Separation of functions vs. multifunction: changing room concepts

Building design
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Green plants on a white concrete fence, photographed by Danist Soh.

Separation of functions or multifunction – this is nothing less than a religious war in architecture. Where once the strict separation of living, working and leisure was seen as progress, today the opposite is considered the ultimate. But is multifunctionality really the panacea for our cities or just a new dogma that nobody questions? And how far are Germany, Austria and Switzerland really on this path?

  • The dilemma between separation of function and multifunction has characterized urban planning in German-speaking countries for over a century.
  • Multifunctional spatial concepts are celebrated as the answer to urbanization, climate change and digital transformation – but implementation is often tough.
  • Digital tools and AI are changing the way we plan, combine and operate functions.
  • Smart mixed use promises more sustainability, shorter distances and more resilient neighborhoods – provided the technology plays along.
  • Architects and urban planners are facing new technical and regulatory challenges.
  • Debates about social justice, gentrification and conflicts of use are intensifying.
  • International role models show that multifunctionality is far more than just a fashionable term – but also not a sure-fire success.
  • The architecture of the future is becoming more digital, more flexible and more networked – but also increasingly political.

From CIAM to co-working: separation of functions as a model – and its erosion

The separation of functions is an old acquaintance in urban planning. In German-speaking countries, it has been elevated to an urban planning dogma at the latest since the Athens Charter of the CIAM in the 1930s. Living here, working there, leisure somewhere in between – this was the formula that was considered rational and hygienic. The consequences are well known today: Dormitory towns on the outskirts of cities, monofunctional industrial estates, deserted inner cities after office hours. German post-war modernism perfected this separation and created a spatial order that is now a dead end. The situation in Austria and Switzerland is similar, albeit less radical. The separation of functions has always been an expression of a belief in progress, a striving for efficiency and – not to forget – control. Those who separate the functions can manage, control and monitor them better. The fact that quality of life, social mix and ecological sustainability fell by the wayside was ignored for a long time. Only urbanization, climate change and, last but not least, digitalization have called this legacy of modernity into question – and initiated a paradigm shift that everyone is talking about today: multifunctionality.

But it’s not that simple. Multifunction is not a law of nature, but a complex interplay of planning, politics, technology and social expectations. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, the separation of functions has long been recognized as a problem, but it still shapes building regulations, development plans and ownership structures. Neither the building codes nor the investors have really changed. As a result, a lot of multifunctionality remains wishful thinking, nicely visualized in competition renderings, but rarely a reality on the building site. They do exist, the lighthouse projects: mixed quarters, vertical mixed use, hybrid buildings – but they remain the exception, not the rule. The question is: why?

The truth is that multifunctionality requires not only courage, but also know-how and new tools. The technical and legal hurdles are enormous. Fire protection, noise protection, usage permits, property rights – all of this has to be rethought if living, working and leisure are to take place under one roof. In practice, multifunctionality often fails due to the petty paragraph fetish of German administrations. In Austria and Switzerland, the situation is more moderate, but here too the fear of conflicts of use and liability issues prevails. So there is no lack of vision, but rather a lack of implementation competence and political will.

However, the global discourse shows that the future belongs to multifunctionality. For years, international cities such as New York, Singapore and Copenhagen have been focusing on mixed-use urban districts that combine living, working, education, leisure and even agriculture. The advantages are obvious: shorter distances, less traffic, lively neighborhoods, better use of resources. But for this to work, it takes more than a few coworking spaces and hip cafés on the first floor. It needs a new planning culture that doesn’t fear complexity, but shapes it.

And this is where the dilemma begins: separation of functions is easy, multifunctionality is exhausting. It requires architects, planners and investors to think and act flexibly, to moderate different interests and find innovative solutions. It also requires users to embrace new things. The comfort zone of the old, clearly separated city is comfortable – and that makes multifunctionality a real challenge.

Multifunction as a savior? Between desire and reality

Multifunctional space concepts are currently being traded as the great promise – for sustainability, social mix, economic efficiency and even for solving the housing shortage. Sounds good, but is it true? In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, there is often great disillusionment when concepts are supposed to become reality. The typical hurdles: conservative building regulations, recalcitrant approval authorities, a lack of investment incentives and, last but not least, the famous German thoroughness that wants to regulate everything down to the last detail. Multifunction also means: compromises, vagueness, gray areas – and many people don’t like that. Yet it is precisely in the vagueness that the potential lies, because multifunctional spaces can adapt to changing needs, can be offices during the day and event spaces in the evening, can combine residential and commercial or culture and production.

However, the reality is often different. In many projects, mixed use is restricted to the first floor, while the upper floors remain monofunctional. The fear of noise, odors, conflicts of use and loss of value dominates the discussion. As a result, multifunctionality often remains a fig leaf that merely conceals the old patterns. In Switzerland, people are more willing to experiment, as projects in Zurich and Basel show. Hybrid buildings are actually being created here, in which living, working, culture and commerce intermingle. In Austria, the focus is on district development in which a mix of uses is considered from the outset. But here too, lighthouses are few and far between.

What is missing is a broad social debate on the opportunities and risks of multifunctionality. The classic arguments against mixed use are well known: too loud, too dirty, too complicated. But these objections are often pretextual. In reality, it is about power, control and vested interests. If you allow several functions under one roof, you lose control – and that is scary. The advantages are clear: multifunctional districts are more resilient to crises, they promote social interaction, they save space and resources. And they are better able to respond to the challenges of climate change.

Digitalization could actually become a game changer here. Digital tools and simulations make it possible to identify and manage conflicts of use at an early stage. New forms of building management, smart sensor technology and AI-supported systems make it possible to allocate functions flexibly and use space in line with demand. What is still considered an experiment today could be standard tomorrow. However, technology does not solve all problems. It also creates new dependencies, data protection issues and social divisions. Multifunctionality is not a sure-fire success, but an ongoing process of negotiation.

In the end, the question remains: do we really want the multifunctional city – with all its contradictions, challenges and opportunities? Or do we secretly long for the clear, orderly world of functional separation? The answer will determine what our cities will look like in the future – and how we live in them.

Digitalization, AI and the new spatial logic

Digitalization has radically changed the relationship between function and space. Where rigid floor plans and fixed usage zones used to prevail, the digital transformation is opening up completely new possibilities for flexibility and control. Intelligent building technology, IoT sensors, mobile working environments and smart home solutions make buildings and neighborhoods dynamically usable. Suddenly, a room can be an office in the morning, a yoga studio in the afternoon and an event venue in the evening – digitally controlled, data-supported and user-oriented. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, this potential is only slowly being recognized. Most buildings are still analogue monocultures, and digitalization is often limited to building services or marketing.

But the pioneers are showing where the journey is heading. Digital twins, BIM-supported planning and AI-based usage control make it possible to simulate, optimize and combine functions in real time. The classic room typology is dissolving and new hybrids are emerging. Anyone who still thinks in categories such as “office”, “home” or “store” has already missed the future. The boundaries between private and public, between work and leisure, between production and consumption are becoming blurred. Multifunctionality is becoming the new normal – but only if the technology is used wisely.

This requires architects and planners to have considerably more technical knowledge than in the past. Anyone designing multifunctional spaces must not only draw floor plans, but also understand digital processes, integrate sensor technology, anticipate user needs and comply with regulatory requirements. Digitalization brings new stakeholders into play: software developers, data analysts, facility managers. Architecture is becoming an interface discipline that links technology, design and operation. Those who don’t keep up will be overrun by developments.

But digitalization also harbours risks. Algorithmic control can lead to new forms of exclusion, for example if certain user groups are excluded from digital processes or if commercial interests dominate the mix of uses. The risk of digital gentrification is real: if only the wealthy and tech-savvy users can take advantage of multifunctional offerings, new social divisions will arise. If you really want to make multifunctionality sustainable, you have to take these risks seriously and take countermeasures from the outset.

An international comparison shows that cities such as Singapore, Copenhagen and Toronto have long since made progress in terms of digital multifunctionality. There, entire districts are used as digital test laboratories in which functions are controlled flexibly and in line with demand. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, on the other hand, skepticism still dominates. Fear of loss of control, data misuse and regulatory proliferation are slowing down development. But the pressure is growing. If you don’t think digitally, you stay analog – and that is no longer an option in the 21st century.

Sustainability, conflicts of use and the long shadow of functional separation

Multifunctional space concepts are often presented as the ideal path to sustainability. Less land consumption, lower energy requirements, more social mix – it sounds like a win-win situation. But is it really that simple? Practice shows: Multifunction can be more sustainable, but it doesn’t have to be. It depends on how it is implemented. In Germany, Austria and Switzerland, there is often a lack of binding guidelines, planning security and clear sustainability goals. Many projects remain stuck at the self-marketing stage. A green label and a few trees on the roof are no substitute for a genuine mix of uses. Ecological benefits can only be achieved if multifunctionality is consistently conceived and practiced.

Conflicts of use are a major issue. Where many functions come together in a confined space, collisions are inevitable. Noise, smells, traffic, safety issues – all of these need to be identified and moderated at an early stage. Digital tools can help to predict and defuse conflicts. But they are no substitute for social negotiation. Multifunctionality is always a compromise. It requires flexibility, tolerance and the willingness to leave familiar comfort zones from all those involved. This is uncomfortable, but necessary if the city is to become more sustainable.

Another problem is the ownership structure. Multifunctionality requires new models of space allocation, operation and financing. The classic condominium or retail store no longer fit into the new logic. Cooperative models, cooperatives, mixed forms of private and public ownership are needed. There is more willingness to experiment in Switzerland and Austria than in Germany, but even there the old patterns still dominate. If you want multifunctionality, you also have to start with the structures – otherwise everything will stay the same.

Climate change is increasing the pressure to act. Multifunctional districts can help to make cities more climate-resilient by using space more efficiently and pooling infrastructure. However, this only works if the concepts are considered holistically. Individual measures are of little use. A new planning culture is needed that integrates sustainability, social justice and technical innovation. Politicians are called upon to finally create the conditions – through new building regulations, funding programs and the promotion of experiments.

Multifunctionality has long been a central topic in the global discourse – not only for ecological reasons, but also for social and economic ones. The future of the city is hybrid, mixed, flexible – but it is also conflictual, stressful and full of contradictions. If you want multifunctionality, you have to be prepared to embark on this adventure. Separation of functions is a thing of the past – but multifunctionality is far from being the norm.

Visions, criticism and the future of spatial concepts

The debate about separation of functions and multifunctionality is far from settled. Critics warn of users being overburdened, of a dilution of identity and of the loss of quiet and protected spaces. They argue that multifunctionality can lead to arbitrariness, that it transforms the city of short distances into a city of constant overload. It is true: Not everyone wants to or can live in a hybrid, constantly changing environment. Multifunctionality also brings new risks: commercialization, social exclusion, loss of community. Those who preach multifunctionality must not ignore these risks.

At the same time, multifunctionality opens up undreamt-of opportunities. The city can once again become a place of encounter, exchange and innovation. Multifunctional spaces can enable new forms of coexistence, make the city more resilient to crises and use resources more efficiently. Digitalization is a double-edged sword: it can create new opportunities, but also cement new inequalities. The future lies in the clever combination of technology, design and social innovation.

For architects, urban planners and developers, this means that they must be prepared to break new ground, take risks and assume responsibility. Technical knowledge is no longer enough – creativity, moderation skills and the courage to work against resistance are required. If you want to design multifunctional buildings, you have to deal with political, social and ecological issues. Architecture is becoming more political, planning more complex, responsibility greater. This is exhausting, but also exciting.

An international comparison shows that the German-speaking countries are neither pioneers nor laggards. They are somewhere in between, caught between tradition and innovation, between fear and new beginnings. The big question is whether they will make the leap – or continue to cling to the separation of functions until the pressure from outside becomes too great. The signs point to change, but the road is rocky.

There are plenty of visions for the city of the future. Multifunctionality is not a panacea, but it is an important building block. It can help to overcome the major challenges of our time – if it is implemented cleverly, flexibly and inclusively. The future of spatial concepts will be more digital, more sustainable and more complex – but it will also be more contradictory. Those who are prepared for this can create a new city. Those who cling to old patterns will be overtaken.

Conclusion: separation of functions is a thing of the past – multifunctionality is the future, but not a sure-fire success. If you want to take advantage of the opportunities, you need courage, know-how and the will to break new ground. German-speaking cities are at a crossroads. Now is the time to decide whether they want to shape change or manage it. The future is mixed, digital and complex – and that’s a good thing.

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Large Landscape Gardens: Fundamentals, History, and Significance

Building design
A landscaped garden and park complex designed around the theme of the Grand Landscape Garden
A street with flowers planted along a concrete wall—an example of urban greening. Photo: rumanamin/Unsplash

Anyone who enters a large landscape garden experiences nature as a work of art: vast lawns that gently give way to groups of trees, winding paths that continually draw the eye in new directions, bodies of water that reflect the sky, and sightlines that stretch across hills and valleys. The large landscape garden is one of the most influential inventions in European garden design—a design philosophy that, since the 18th century, has fundamentally redefined the relationship between people, nature, and space, and continues to shape open-space planning to this day.

  • What defines a grand landscape garden and how it differs from other types of gardens
  • How the landscape garden emerged historically and which intellectual movements shaped it
  • Which design principles and design elements underlie the landscape garden
  • What plant selection and vegetation techniques are characteristic of large-scale landscape gardens
  • How care, maintenance, and historic preservation are organized for historic landscapes
  • The significance of the landscape garden for contemporary urban development and open-space planning
  • What common misunderstandings and mistakes occur in planning and maintenance
  • How large-scale landscape gardens are being reevaluated in the context of climate adaptation and biodiversity

Definition and Classification: What Is a Large Landscape Garden?

The large landscape garden, known in English-speaking countries as a “landscape garden” or “English landscape garden,” is a type of open space that deliberately eschews the formal, geometric garden design of the Baroque and Renaissance periods and instead takes an idealized natural landscape as its design basis. It is characterized by meandering paths and shorelines, freely shaped bodies of water, irregularly arranged groups of trees and shrubs, expansive lawns, and a carefully staged sequence of spatial impressions. The word “large” refers not only to the area—which in fact often spans several hundred to over a thousand hectares—but also to the conceptual aspiration: the garden as a reflection of a complete, internally coherent landscape.

The large landscape garden differs fundamentally from the Baroque palace garden in its design logic. While the Baroque garden controls and organizes nature through symmetry, axes, parterres, and topiary (the pruning of trees and shrubs into geometric shapes), the landscape garden simulates the random, the organic, and the picturesque. This simulation, however, is by no means random: It is based on precise design decisions and the deliberate use of topography, vegetation, water, and architecture to create specific moods, visual relationships, and spatial experiences. In this sense, the landscape garden is a highly refined art form that conceals its methods.

Typologically, the large landscape garden can be distinguished from smaller landscape-style home gardens, 19th-century public parks, and modern city parks, even though all these types have emerged from it or been influenced by it. The decisive difference lies in scale and intention: the large landscape garden is a total work of art that reinvents an entire landscape, whereas the 19th-century city park primarily served social and hygienic purposes, and the landscape-style private garden merely borrows formal elements.

Historical Origins: England, the Enlightenment, and Criticism of the Baroque

The roots of the grand landscape garden lie in early 18th-century England, where a combination of philosophical, literary, and political currents gave rise to a new aesthetic of nature. The Enlightenment, with its trust in reason and the observation of nature, stood in productive tension with the contemporary longing for the sublime and the picturesque—that is, for landscapes that evoke awe, vastness, and irregularity. Poets such as Alexander Pope, philosophers such as Anthony Ashley Cooper, the third Earl of Shaftesbury, and painters such as Claude Lorrain and Nicolas Poussin—whose landscape paintings served as direct models—shaped the aesthetic program of the new garden style.

The gardens at Stowe (Buckinghamshire), Stourhead (Wiltshire), and Rousham (Oxfordshire) are considered key early examples. At Stowe, Charles Bridgeman, William Kent, and finally Lancelot “Capability” Brown—who would become the most influential landscape architect of the 18th century—worked in succession. Brown earned his nickname “Capability” from his habit of identifying the “capabilities” of a site for improvement. His style, characterized by meandering lakes, gently undulating lawns, clusters of trees, and belts of trees along the edges, became the epitome of the English landscape garden and influenced hundreds of gardens throughout Great Britain.

At the same time, a theoretical debate developed about the picturesque, led primarily by William Gilpin, Uvedale Price, and Richard Payne Knight. These authors criticized Brown’s style as too smooth and too orderly and called for a rougher, wilder garden aesthetic more closely aligned with painting. This debate is important for understanding the grand landscape garden because it shows that the style was not a uniform doctrine but a dynamic field of aesthetic debate.

The landscape garden style reached Germany in the second half of the 18th century, initially through travelogues and publications, then through direct commissions of English gardeners and the work of local designers such as Friedrich Ludwig von Sckell, who laid out the English Garden in Munich, and Peter Joseph Lenné, who had a decisive influence on the Potsdam park landscape surrounding the New Garden and Sanssouci Park. Prince Franz von Anhalt-Dessau created the Wörlitz Park, the first significant landscape garden project on German soil, which is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. In these German gardens, the English landscape style is often combined with Enlightenment-era educational programs: temples, inscriptions, monuments, and symbolic structures transform the garden into a walk-through total work of art with a moral and political message.

Design Principles and Design Elements of the Grand Landscape Garden

The grand landscape garden employs a range of design elements that, when combined, create its characteristic spatial experience. The most important element is the staging of visual relationships: the path through the garden is a sequence of images that the designer has deliberately composed. Axial views open up onto temples, bridges, or bodies of water; groups of trees and shrubs frame vistas and block unwanted views; hills and depressions create moments of surprise when, after an ascent, a sweeping view suddenly opens up.

Water plays a central role. Natural or artificially created lakes and ponds with irregular, curved shores are a hallmark of the style. Capability Brown was famous for transforming rivers into expansive lakes through damming, which gave the impression of natural bodies of water. The reflection of the sky and the surrounding vegetation on the water’s surface significantly enhances the sense of depth in the space. Bridges, islands, and shoreline plantings complement the body of water as design elements.

Vegetation is conceived not as individual plants but as mass and volume. Solitary trees—that is, freestanding individual trees with distinctive shapes or sizes—provide focal points within the lawn. Groups of trees and shrubs of varying sizes and compositions structure the space and create a layering of foreground, middle ground, and background reminiscent of landscape painting. Belts of trees and shrubs along the garden’s edges enclose the grounds from the outside and create the impression of a self-contained world. The lawn itself, referred to in the original English as “lawn,” is not merely leftover space but a design element: it connects the groups of trees and shrubs, guides the eye, and gives the garden its sense of expansiveness.

Architectural features—such as temples, grottoes, ruins, bridges, obelisks, and similar structures—complete the picture. They are not functional buildings but rather convey meaning: they allude to ancient models, literary themes, or the client’s worldview. Ruins, whether genuine or artificially created, are a particularly characteristic element because they symbolize transience and the superiority of nature over human creation—a central theme of Enlightenment aesthetics.

Plant Selection and Vegetation Design in the Landscape Garden

The use of plants in large landscape gardens follows different principles than in formal gardens. The focus is not on the individual plant with its botanical characteristics, but on the effect of the mass of plants within the space. For woody plantings, native tree species were and continue to be used predominantly; in Central Europe, these include oak, beech, hornbeam, linden, ash, maple, and alder, supplemented by introduced species such as plane tree, horse chestnut, and various conifers, which have been widespread in European landscape gardens since the 18th century.

Creating woody plantings in the landscape garden style requires thinking in terms of long time frames. A tree planted today as a solitary specimen will not fully unfold its spatial impact until decades later. Capability Brown is said to have remarked that he worked for posterity, not for the present. This temporal dimension is a fundamental difference from architecture: the landscape garden is never finished; it changes continuously through the growth, aging, and loss of trees and shrubs. Professional care and maintenance must guide this process without destroying the original design concept.

The lawns of historic landscape gardens were originally maintained through grazing by sheep and cattle, which also served an ecologically valuable purpose. With the invention of the lawn mower in the 19th century and the increasing mechanization of maintenance, maintenance practices changed fundamentally. Today, those responsible for maintenance face the challenge of balancing the preservation of the historic character, the demands of visitor use, and the goals of promoting biodiversity. Extensive meadow management with infrequent mowing, the creation of wildflower strips, and the promotion of old-growth wood in groups of trees and shrubs are strategies that are increasingly being incorporated into modern maintenance concepts for historic landscape gardens.

The introduction of exotic woody plants, particularly rhododendron species and conifers from North America and East Asia, was a significant expansion of the plant repertoire in the 19th century. Many historic landscape gardens today contain significant collections of these species, which have since acquired historical value in their own right. At the same time, Rhododendron ponticum has become an invasive problem in Atlantic-influenced regions of Great Britain and Ireland, threatening the ecological integrity of historic sites. This tension between historical authenticity and ecological responsibility is a central theme in today’s preservation of landscape gardens.

Maintenance, Preservation, and Management Concepts for Historic Sites

Historic landscape gardens pose special challenges for heritage conservation because their heritage value lies not in solid materials but in a living, ever-changing composition of vegetation, topography, water, and architecture. The challenge lies in preserving the spirit of the original design without freezing the growth of the vegetation or reducing the site to an artificial state. Maintenance concepts for historic landscape gardens must therefore be based on a careful historical analysis that evaluates sources such as original plans, paintings, engravings, travelogues, and plant lists.

In Germany, historic garden conservation has established itself as a distinct discipline situated at the intersection of landscape architecture, historic preservation, and garden history. The Florence Charter, a document adopted in 1981 by the International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS), defines principles for the preservation of historic gardens and parks. It emphasizes that the historic garden is a living monument that requires continuous care, and that restoration measures must be based on documented sources.

Practical maintenance tasks in historic landscape gardens include the regular inspection and care of tree and shrub populations, the preservation and restoration of water features and ornamental structures, the maintenance of lawns and paths, and the management of visitor flows. The latter is a particularly complex task in heavily visited sites such as the English Garden in Munich or Sanssouci Park in Potsdam, where user needs, historic preservation, and ecological goals must be balanced. Foot traffic, soil compaction, and damage to the root systems of old trees caused by visitors are real threats that are mitigated through route guidance, signage, and, if necessary, temporary closures.

Significance for Contemporary Open-Space Planning, Climate Adaptation, and Biodiversity

The large landscape garden is not a museum relic, but rather a reference model that remains highly relevant for today’s open-space planning and urban development. Its fundamental principles—the linking of open spaces into contiguous green spaces, the use of topography and water as design elements, and the creation of spatial diversity through the alternation of open and enclosed areas—are reflected in modern concepts such as the Green Belt, Green Infrastructure, and the 21st-century city park.

In the context of climate adaptation, this type of landscape garden offers specific advantages. Extensive stands of trees and shrubs create cooling effects through evaporation and shading, which are increasingly in demand in overheated cities. Extensive lawns and water bodies help regulate the urban water cycle by absorbing, temporarily storing, and gradually releasing rainwater. The topography of many historic landscape gardens—with hollows, depressions, and ponds—corresponds in its basic structure to the principle of the “sponge city” (a concept of water-sensitive urban planning), which is currently being discussed as a response to increasing heavy rainfall events.

For biodiversity, large-scale landscape gardens—with their stands of mature trees, extensive lawns, bodies of water, and wooded edges—serve as valuable habitats. Old oaks, beeches, and linden trees, with their hollows, cracks, and dead branches, provide habitat structures for bats, woodpeckers, beetles, and numerous other species that can hardly find a place in intensively used urban landscapes. Promoting deadwood, adopting a more extensive approach to lawn care, and creating riparian buffer zones are measures that can enhance the ecological value of historic landscape gardens without compromising their character.

At the same time, open-space planning must critically reflect on what the grand landscape garden historically also was: an instrument of land acquisition and social segregation. Many of the most significant English landscape gardens were created through the enclosure and transformation of common land—a process that displaced villages and dispossessed farmers. This socio-historical dimension is essential to a complete understanding of the type, even if it does not negate its aesthetic and ecological value.

The Grand Landscape Garden as an Enduring Design Model

The large landscape garden established a design philosophy that extends far beyond its historical context of origin. The idea that open space is designed not through geometry but through reflection on spatial sequences, visual relationships, movement, and atmosphere remains a fundamental principle of landscape architecture to this day. Anyone planning a city park, a park complex, or a large-scale open space works—consciously or unconsciously—with techniques developed in 18th-century English landscape gardens.

The strength of this typology lies in its adaptability. The large landscape garden can serve simultaneously as a recreational space, a nature conservation area, a climate buffer, a cultural heritage site, and a source of urban identity. It requires its planners and caretakers to think in the long term, to understand ecological processes, and to exercise aesthetic judgment that transcends short-term trends. This combination makes it a challenging yet rewarding field of practice for landscape architecture.

The great historic gardens—from Stourhead to Wörlitz to the English Garden in Munich—are not only testaments to a bygone era of garden art, but also living laboratories where one can observe how vegetation, topography, water, and architecture have interacted over the centuries. Anyone who walks through these gardens with a knowledgeable eye learns more about open-space planning than from many textbooks. The grand landscape garden remains what it has been since its inception: a design model of extraordinary depth and durability.

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Building design

Photo: Screenshot Instagram/ecpodcast

Museums are not the only ones using podcasts to introduce themselves. Conservation science is also discovering this medium. Students at the University of Amsterdam have now launched a conservation podcast The new podcast format “ECPodcast – by and for Emerging Conservation Professionals”, which five Master’s students at the University of Amsterdam have developed in recent weeks, is just over two weeks old. The series […]

Museums are not the only ones using podcasts to introduce themselves. The restoration sciences are also discovering this medium. Students at the University of Amsterdam have now launched a restoration podcast


Studierende der Universität Amsterdam haben jetzt einen Restaurierungs-Podcast gelauncht Foto: Screenshot Instagram/ecpodcast
Students at the University of Amsterdam have now launched a restoration podcast
Photo: Screenshot Instagram/ecpodcast

The new podcast format “ECPodcast – by and for Emerging Conservation Professionals”, which five Master’s students at the University of Amsterdam have developed in recent weeks, is just over two weeks old. The series provides insights into the “Conservation & Restoration” course at the University of Amsterdam. In the first episode, Mané van Veldhuizen, Anthi Soulioti, Willemijn Bolderman, Terri Costello and Liz Hébert talk about their specializations and report on their recruitment test. They have now been at university for a year. The second episode is already online – here the students talk to Professor Ellen Hendriks, who is involved in the program’s application process: How did Covid-19 affect the selection week? Just listen in: www.ecpodcast.de