Messages page 4

Issues of taste

To some of the readers of this book the prospect that words of love could fall from the bough of a tree sound sublime. I have no doubt, however, that to others the very idea may sound appaling. The visitor who quakes at the thought of execrable verse chasing them through the trees has nothing to fear, however. As should be clear by now, the Key is the central controlling element within the Living Garden. No Key, no message. Others may object to the very idea of hearing voices or seeing images in the landscape - the very aesthetics of Living Books and the experience of visiting a garden. Such a reader is, of course, not compelled to visit a garden or make use of the scheme. They would anyway be unlikely to create their own Living Book (why should they?).

A principal of the Living Garden is that as broad a range of people as possible should be able to both create and recall Living Books, (if they so choose). Unlike a gallery, the Living Garden does not define or serve the purpose of acting as an arbiter concerning issues of taste, aesthetics and value. If a graphic designer wanted to create a Living Book using a sophisticated authoring tool which exploits Pantone colours, new fonts, whatever, they may do so. But if others decide to make messages or diaries based on images of their children, send messages of love, or even if they just want to reproduce images of (non ironic) ceramic flying ducks from their living room, they may do so, too. Simply because one person might find the idea of, say, a Valentines card (itself a product of social and technological change with the introduction of the postal system) `tacky', is not sufficient reason to deny this activity to others who may enjoy it. In a conventional parkland, one may be aware, viewed from a distance, that a picnic or game of football is taking place - without necessarily having to take part in that activity yourself. In a similar manner, the ability of the Key to make the recall of a Living Book a private moment, combined with the layout of the garden (which provides enough `breathing space' between Viewers), means that messages are not inflicted on others. A keyholder may still choose to share an experience with another, but again, there is no reason why this should actually impinge on the rest of the garden.

One of the roles of the Living Garden is to provide a mechanism which (through the Key, etc) provides literal and metaphorical `space', which is free at the point of use, and not determined by the aesthetics of anyone other than the creator of a message.This seems to me a central point to the Garden. Dialogue and messages are increasingly seen as commodities for the `communication industries'. If there is no market for some form of communication then, increasingly, it is seen as having no value. Not only is there a very real price on a telephone conversation or sending a letter, but the `value' of other forms of communication is starting to be determined by `branding' issues - whether something has been published, broadcast or exhibited, for example. If you are not judged to be `famous', you cannot sell your personal or `world view', and if you are too poor to rent or pay for a channel of communication - ultimately if there is no `market' for what you want to say - then your voice is stifled. The banking analogy introduced at the start of this book seems particularly apt here, as the question is: `what "commodities" do we value most in our society; just what are we trading in life?'

Ritual

The social ritual involved in the Living Garden - in terms of handing over and passing on Keys, and in visiting a garden - is just as central to the scheme as are the gardens themselves. The fact that a garden is a physical location, rather than some virtual world which can be switched off, will itself act as a constant reminder that the transactions which the garden supports are, literally, seen to have a place; that the `intellectual property' of social communication is perceived to be as valuable as a trade in commodities on the stock market, the intellectual currency of the art world, the actualité of television or - indeed - the fiscal commodities dealt in by high street banks.