Date: April – May 2025
Activity: Concept and design
A NATURAL ANAMORPHOSIS
Concept and Design
In 2025, I participated as a volunteer in the Radicepura Garden Festival, an experience I had long desired. Initially, I had hoped to propose my own project, but I did not meet the competition’s criteria. Nevertheless, I decided to take part. I wanted to learn and gain first-hand understanding of what it means to create a garden within such a complex and inspiring context.
During the setup phase, my attention was repeatedly drawn to a large installation at the center of the exhibition area: Anamorphosis, a work by the French artist François Abelanet. It consisted of thirty-three inclined tanks arranged to form an octagon, visible only from a specific elevated vantage point. From that point, the shape appeared regular and symmetrical. But approaching it, everything became distorted: the diamonds at the bottom were tiny (2 m²), while those at the top were much larger (up to 15 m²). It was an optical illusion based on anamorphosis—a technique that allows a distorted image to appear coherent only when viewed from a precise spot—in this case, a raised platform about three meters high.
This installation has been a festival icon for years, and it was there that I wanted to intervene, introducing a living, ephemeral, spontaneous element within that fixed form.
A reflection on Order and Chaos
The theme of the 2025 biennale was Order and Chaos. Although the Anamorphosis installation was not created with this intent, it was inevitable for me to approach it through that lens.
In my work, the order I seek appears when I select seeds, draw a layout, or choose a precise moment to sow. But the moment those seeds touch the soil, another kind of order begins: that of nature, which decides what sprouts, when, and how it blooms. A process that may seem chaotic to human eyes because it escapes prediction. Yet for nature, this is simply the way it functions.
This tension between control and unpredictability, between intention and spontaneity, guided me. What we perceive as disorder is often just a deeper order we have yet to understand.
Choosing the species
My initial reference was clear: a spontaneous wildflower meadow, inspired by the work of Nigel Dunnett, which I had the opportunity to explore a year earlier in London (Superbloom). I selected three pre-mixed seed blends, aiming for a balance between annuals with vibrant blooms and perennials with a more solid, lasting structure. I wanted to create a light, dynamic landscape with staggered flowering, visual contrasts, and a variable, vibrant rhythm.
I focused on variety in color—from white to yellow, through pink, blue, and touches of deep red—and in form: the delicacy of a cornflower next to the commanding presence of a zinnia. In total, over 40 species, chosen to provide biodiversity, visual impact, and seasonal adaptability.
From concept to model
To make my proposal concrete, I decided to model the entire installation in 3D. I did not have a detailed plan, so I began taking all the measurements myself, tank by tank.
I did this every morning at dawn, before the start of daily activities, so as not to take time away from group work and the other installations. It was a long and meticulous process: each tank…
A small personal victory
When my proposal was accepted, I felt a full, absolute joy. We hadn’t even sown the seeds yet, but I had been trusted—and that was already an achievement. In such a visible, symbolic space, I had been given the opportunity to share a vision. Mine.
In the end, I did not participate as a designer selected through the competition, but I managed to create my own project in one of the most complex and powerful areas of the festival. It was a small victory, an external confirmation that I was on the right path. After a major life and career change, it was exactly what I needed.
