One of my favorite spots on my frequent walks in the Brooklyn Botanic Garden is its Japanese Hill and Pond Garden, which has been a feature of the site almost since its opening.
In fact, when it opened in 1914, it was the first of its kind in a public garden in America, although there was a vogue for them on private estates. Brooklyn’s garden was the work of Takeo Shiota, who had already done numbers of those private gardens.
The Japanese Garden is lovely any time of year, but perhaps at its most beautiful in early spring when several varieties of flowering cherry trees are in bloom, as they were on my most recent visit.
Much of the land for the Botanic Garden was an ash dump, with a small pond fed by a brook from the north end of the garden; Shiota made the pond, reshaped as needed, into the centerpiece of his work. Its irregular shape is such that it can never be seen all at once: it keeps offering new perspectives.
Shiota based his plan on two types of traditional garden, a hill-and-pond garden meant for dramatic distant views, but also a stroll garden meant to be explored on foot. It includes a number of structures: a viewing platform that faces a red ‘torii’ gate signifying a temple behind it, a small temple or shrine, and a number of bridges and gates.
From the entrance, at the viewing platform, a path wanders along the pond’s shore, counter-clockwise, offering a constantly changing view of water, blooms and fixtures (not to mention occasional glimpses of the surrounding city).
Takeo Shiota, the landscape architect, is an unusual figure. He was born in a small rural village in Japan and came to the U.S. at 26, in 1907. Unlike other Japanese landscapers of the period, he had no formal training or apprenticeship; instead developed his art by wandering Japan on foot for several years, studying both gardens and the landscape.
The image above was our One-Clue Mystery this week, recognized by PortMoresby and George G
Of course, the compact and varied garden in Brooklyn isn’t like any actual natural landscape in Japan; it is a creation of a tradition called shizen, the art of making a garden look as if it grew that way on its own.
Shiota’s garden has some non-traditional features, too: On the far side of the pond, water enters via a waterfall that feeds this grotto at its feet. Unlike the rounded stones that are usually used in Japanese gardens, this one is made of jagged Manhattan schist, and slightly resembles an Italian grotto—possibly because the workers Shiota hired were Italian. The grotto forms an echo chamber to amplify the sound of the waterfall.
As loved as the Japanese Garden was at first, and as much loved as it is today, it has had hard times. In 1937, an anti-Japanese arsonist burned the Shinto shrine, which wasn’t rebuilt until 1960. Shiota himself, who continued to have an active career after his Brooklyn success, was interned in a camp in South Carolina during World War II and died there in 1943.
In the 1950s and 1960s, the garden went through hard times, along with the Brooklyn Botanic Garden as a whole, although some work was done. In 1999, a $3 million restoration brought the Japanese Garden back to Shiota’s design and to good condition, including a major dredging of the pond.
The 1999 restoration also made a major change: a program was started to replace many of the plantings with species native to Asia; Shiota had had to work with limited access and used the closest North American equivalents he could find.
If you live within range or come to visit New York, be sure to include the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Sadly, it is no longer mostly free of charge as it was when my family treated it almost as our backyard. Still, children under 12 are free, and there are combination tickets for the Garden and the next-door Brooklyn Museum.
Beautiful photography!