LES PRIVILÈGES DE LA PROMENADE II
I remember the way to Granada, a city north-west of the Sierra Nevada desert. The city nestles amongst the hills. There is only one road that leads to the hill where the Moorish palace, the Alhambra, was built. Most people come to visit the palace, but I am mainly interested in visiting the Generalife, the garden of gardens. Finally, I will experience this bastion of Vedic principles in the flesh. Every form we know and everything we build is rooted in Vedic mathematics. It originated in northern India and Persia and was then adopted and developed by the Arabs. It enabled them to be the first builders of large and complex vaulted structures. In contrast to our modern understanding, Vedic mathematics depends on the inventiveness of the mathematician. The higher his creative insight, the more he is accorded respect.
The basis of this understanding is a simple square, the Vedic square. The Arabs didn't work with numbers higher than 10. The simple calculation of 8 plus 7 didn't add up to 15 but to 6, adding up the first and second digit of the first sum. By using Vedic squares and by linking different, though related numbers, it is possible to create patterns that we recognise as typically Arabic. These patterns are the basis for the construction and decoration of almost every Arabic building, from tilework to plastering and ceiling decoration. I find it amazing that this mathematics, which appears to have been used by Albert Einstein in his discovery of the theory of relativity, isn't applied more often. All the more so as it fits so well with today's digital developments. However, ask any mathematician about Vedic mathematics and he will stare at you like a stuck pig.
Not only was the Generalife built according to Vedic principles, it soon became a research centre for mathematicians - something which superceded the Alhambra's role as a political centre. Fortunately there are two separate entrances and I don't have to go through the palace first. Within a few metres you realise there is no comparison between the Generalife and the English or Renaissance gardens we know. Examples like Le Clos Normand in Giverny, the Palazzina Farnese in Caprarola, or Sissinghurst Castle Gardens are all built as additions to existing architecture, conceived to enliven the building, to enhance its status or to embellish its position within the landscape.
The Generalife was built independently from the Alhambra. The palace was added later and built following the Moorish principles of the garden. This influence is still reflected in the small square plaster patterns you can find in every room of the palace. Each one reveals a plan of a part of the garden that is then mirrored in the architecture of the room itself. The Alhambra, or red palace - so called because of the red brick that was used for its exterior - comes across as a brutal, square fort. There is nothing to indicate the refinement inside. The same goes for the Generalife, which also conceals its treasures from the outside. Despite its age, it appears that the Generalife is well preserved. The main entrance is a long, narrow, slightly sloped lane of soft cypress trees, planted so closely together that they now form a soft dark green wall. The trees to the right have more distance between them, allowing a glimpse of the seedbeds, fish ponds, compost heaps and outhouses. No European garden architect would ever dream of locating the gardeners' sheds or compost heaps near the entrance of a garden.
The lane stops after 100 metres, more or less. To both left and right are squares of flat stones through which trees and bushes grow. The view looks more like the ruins of an old architectural monument than a beautiful garden, covered in trees that have forced themselves through the piles of stone. There follows an amphitheatre built from narrow, red, partly overlapping stones. Some Italian gardens have theatres as well but these are always separated from the rest of the garden by high hedges and often marble sculptures. Here the stage set consists of red stones, stairs, podiums and the occasional cypress tree in the background. Because the trees are spaced widely enough, you get the impression that the scenery behind them will be part of the stage set for an actual performance.
I'm starting to get excited.
Another square that also belongs to the theatre leads to the 'real' garden. A final flight of steps and then to my left and right the smoothest hedges I've ever seen. They feel like velvet, their colour a soft green. More than 1.5 metres wide and 6 metres high, these hedges are the green walls that divide the garden into its many different rooms. Here and there are small corners where you can sit down, elsewhere passages lead to other rooms. Low, neatly cut box hedges cover the floors with complex mathematical patterns. The squares are filled with perennials, the colours of which contrast with the greenery. Sometimes double hedges make up corridors. Every room is different. The Patio de la Acequia, for instance, is a long room in which water attracts all the attention. Its floor is an extended narrow irrigation channel with inward facing fountains over its entire length and flower beds along its borders. At the end of the garden is the Madïnat al- Zahrã. On every floor of this high tower there is a small pavilion from where you can look out over the entire garden, as well as get a panoramic view of the region. Then you discover the Generalife is built on a series of terraces high on the hill. It's like being on a roof garden. Looking down from the Madonat al-Zahr‹, for the first time you have a view on the overall structure of the garden. You understand why it doesn't really make sense to talk about a 'garden'. I'd rather call it green architecture. Stretching out, in front of you, is a green palace without a roof, divided by living walls. Breathtaking.
Water flows and jumps, disappears and emerges somewhere lower down, sometimes swirling, sometimes tranquil. The subtlety of running and stagnant water has the same architectonic power as the green cypress hedges. In some ponds, the water is almost level with the edge of the tile floor that surrounds it. Again there is a correspondence between these patterns and the basic Vedic square. The fountains work on the principle of water pressure, using the natural water flowing down from the top of the hill. The perfection of the water channel system is such that seventeen fountains release exactly the same amount of water simultaneously.
The Escalere de las Cascades is one of the strangest constructions of the Generalife. A wide staircase, completely covered in sweet smelling plants, reaches a small pavilion on top of a hill, the former residence of the harem's leading lady. The balustrades of the staircase are hollow, allowing abundant amounts of fresh water to run through them. The sound of cascading water combined with the sweet smell turns this part of the garden into a beautiful, almost erotic experience.
It is said that in the Generalife heaven and earth meet. I don't know whether I agree with that. For me the Generalife is a roofless palace, an observatory, a planetarium and laboratory - not just a beautiful garden.
Beautiful gardens are everywhere, the ultimate form of decoration and beauty. They depend on the taste of their designers and the gardeners who maintain them. In the Generalife beauty is a result, not an intention. I consider it an elaborate, architectural Vedic monument.
The many different levels create a multitude of hidden and secret places. Three quarters of the garden is secret. The surprise is that you never see the view you expect. Time and again the outlook is veiled by new, inward facing views, new insights. The beauty here is that this garden was the model for the Alhambra instead of the other way round. The flowers are less important than in a typical garden, it is their smell - rather than their shape or colour - that is significant.
The Generalife is in a league of its own, easily comparable to other wonders of the world like the Pyramids of Gizeh in Egypt, the Nara temple in Japan, the tombs at Angkor Wat in Cambodia or the Maharani Palace in Udaipur.