Watch how choreographed snow plows will transform piles of slush into a winter wonderland in Buffalo's Front Park.
Landscape architecture is largely rooted in the ideals and creations of one man: Frederick Law Olmsted. One of the visionaries behind Central Park, Olmsted was, in his time, a kind of tolerable radical, a person who inspired big ideas and plenty of opposition but in the end mostly got his way. He introduced concepts to Americans (public parks and parkways, for example) that would, over time, come to define how we think about public space.
One of his most lasting contributions is his style of integrated design—the way in which he worked with the existing landscape to create places that were organic, albeit modified, expressions of their natural state.
In the 1990 film Edward Scissorhands, a misfit cum avant garde landscape architect (in the form of a young Johnny Depp) descends on his neighbors' manicured, mid-century lawns, prompting them to reconsider not just their landscaping but their lives. And when, in 2008, Fritz Haeg attacked our front yards armed with eggplants and kale his message was clear: Landscapes need not be places of conformity.
Images from Olmsted's Blank Snow, courtesy of Sergio López-Piñeiro