From Where I Stand — The ILCA held its “Summer in the City” Design
Tour on July 16, 2022. This event was almost four years in the making with a big ‘ol pandemic slapped right in the middle of it. It was originally scheduled for June of 2020, which meant planning had to begin in early 2019. Our Design Committee had no idea what the world and urban America were about to experience over the next 36 months. Design Tours looks deceptively simple to plan. After all, landscape professionals service thousands of sites a year. One would assume that we just need to combine a bunch of those sites together, tell people where to park, say a few words, and move on to the next one. In reality, allowing 100 people onto a functioning landscape, often at private residences, to wander around, snap photos, and touch plant material is not as welcoming as it sounds for many homeowners. Our Design Committee does an incredible job selecting sites and getting the company of record to walk the tour group through the design, installation, and maintenance challenges. We also hold these in the dead of summer, when the plant material pops. Just keeping people hydrated and upright for eight hours is a challenge. At the end of the day, our hope is that landscape professionals get to peer behind the curtain of a property and appreciate the art and science of a beautiful space. We cluster everyone together so they share the experience communally. We could easily toss a map of sites out to the ILCA members and tell them to stop by on their own time. Instead, our committee opts for a field trip style. Like everyone staring at a painting, all collectively share their nuanced impressions of the work. When we made the decision to attempt an urban tour in 2019, we knew we were in for a challenge. Instead of pulling up in an air-conditioned coach bus, we would ask 100 landscape professionals to walk in one group to eight different public sites in the 4th largest city in North America. We had to embrace the complications posed by the general public, ambient noise, and soaring temperatures. To overcome those complications we had to get creative. The Design Committee fanned out and established one-on-one relationships with the caretakers of these spaces. Education Manager AnneMarie built a robust app with audio, video, interviews, articles, and site photos to overcome the crowds and noise. We dragged a wagon filled with water bottles and fresh fruit to keep people from falling into the shrubs. Lastly, each attendee got a knapsack of sponsored items like suntan lotion, granola bars, sunglasses, a refillable water bottle, and more. The one challenge we did not anticipate were the fears and anxieties many have towards the City of Chicago. In my conversations leading up to the tour, many people expressed concerned about doing a tour of public gardens in broad daylight. To hear some concerns, you’d think Chicago was some post-apocalyptic hellscape being patrolled by Robocops. Perception, coupled with the endless doom scrolling of news outlets, created the impression that Chicago is beyond repair. I told them to register, and prepare to be amazed.
I have been blessed in my personal and professional travels to visit 40 of the top 50 largest cities in the United States. None of them are as beautiful as Chicago. Some are larger, more picturesque, crazy-fun, or historic, but none offer the total package that is Chicago. I lived in the Lakeview and Uptown neighborhoods for 12 years. My kids were born there. My father still lives in the South Loop. The city runs deep in my blood, and when I hear the old girl attacked, I feel the need to defend her. I love big cities, especially Chicago because of their vibrancy and energy. Look, this isn’t Sesame Street. When I lived there, I didn’t walk down the street signing “Sunny Days” while waving to the mailman and the grocer. Cities balance a fierce independence with a collective interdependence. It is freeing to simply put your head down or slide in some earbuds and get lost in the enormity of a big city. In that same breath, the greatest experiences of a big city are when we gather — the street festivals, parades, Cubs and Sox games, beer gardens, museums, and, of course, parks and public gardens. You are surrounded by economic, cultural, and geographic diversity. In short, a city is one big party and everyone is invited. In the same breath, I am not Pollyanna. Uptown had daytime crime, open air drug dealing, ambivalent police officers, feckless politicians, and gang violence. I have had police tape on my front door and encountered a bullet-ridden body in my alley. At this point, I am sure many would ask, “Well, then how can you possibly defend Chicago and feel safe there!?!?” That brings me back to the Design Tour. As we gathered the landscapers, designers, garden stewards, and experts who would serve as site docents, all had the same universal challenge — they needed to maintain gardens for the public that could also survive the public. The central challenge for public gardens is to create respite and beauty for millions of site visitors while not succumbing to those who wish to do the gardens harm. These gardens, like the city where they thrive, have to be resilient. None of these site stewards is naive to think children won’t break branches, dogs won’t uproot plants, discarded food scraps won’t burn turf, and vandals won’t sign their crimes. It is not possible, nor their job to stop damage. It is their job to overwhelm these occasional stains with beauty, durability, and purpose. Now, you may be saying, “that’s a nice metaphor,” but a kid snapping a hawthorn branch is a lot different than getting stabbed. I respect the claustrophobia and anxiety that big cities present to some. But, let’s be honest, that’s not the fault of a big city. Those are self-inflicted wounds. If some are waiting for the day where cities of eight million people no longer have crime and crowds, you are going to be waiting a long time. It’s like waiting for a garden to eliminate its weeds and ignoring its beauty until it does. The only way past a fear is through it, not dropping an iron curtain between Chicago and its suburbs. Chicago, like any big city, is its own wilderness. I didn’t grow up in a big city. I grew up in a suburb where I felt comfortable and didn’t need to lock my car, house, or bike. Living in a big city took some getting used to. The biggest takeaway from my
Hot Town Summer in the City
The Landscape Contractor July 2022
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