The Lost Lessons of Frederick Law Olmsted

Frederick Law Olmsted—famous for designing Central Park and Stanford University, and for his work in Washington D.C.—isn’t a name commonly associated with golf course design. The so-called “Father of Landscape Architecture” didn’t initially want anything to do with golf, but the sport’s growing popularity made his involvement inevitable.

In the late 19th century, Olmsted designed many parks and other landscape developments throughout the United States. During the same period, American golf was beginning to take root. With few to no formal courses to play, early golfers took to any open space they could find. One of these locations was Franklin Park in Boston.

It was one of nine parks in a chain of greenspace known as the Emerald Necklace, which was designed by Olmsted in 1885. Expansive rolling lawns, with large specimen trees preserved, made it an ideal location for golf. Scotsman Willie Campbell laid out an 18-hole course within Franklin Park in 1896. Olmsted fiercely opposed the course and called for its removal, saying, “Not only are the attractive and harmless sheep driven out… what is worse, the nerves of the visitor are further irritated by the anxiety as to being hit by the hard and swiftly driven balls.”

But the course was popular and profitable, so it stayed. It was redesigned by Donald Ross in 1922 and exists today as the William J. Devine Golf Course.

Another, better-known course arose from similar circumstances. In 1895, Olmsted was commissioned to create a plan for the Village of Pinehurst. He laid out the main village center and set aside open space in order to maintain the rural appeal of the area. Once again, early golfers took advantage of the open spaces, and the rest is history. Pinehurst No. 1 opened in 1897, and Donald Ross created Pinehurst No. 2 just ten years later.

Although Olmsted did not expect golf to be incorporated into his projects, his philosophy bled into the designs of the courses, especially at Pinehurst, where his associate Warren H. Manning oversaw development. Because the area’s sandy soil lacked the nutrients required for typical plants, the majority of the 225,000 plants were native. This approach to the natural landscape is reflected in the Pinehurst courses, with native plants such as wiregrass acting as fundamental components of the designs. The courses also retain the feel of Olmstedian open space because homes are mostly kept away from the holes.

While the Franklin Park and Pinehurst projects did not originally account for golf, the Olmsted family eventually cultivated a closer relationship with the game. After Olmsted retired, his sons Frederick Law Olmsted Jr. and John Charles Olmsted took over the family business, forming Olmsted Brothers. The firm contributed to many of the country’s greatest golf course developments, including Gibson Island, Yeamans Hall, Pasatiempo, and Augusta National.

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Planned communities and resorts for the wealthy became enormously popular in the late Gilded Age and Roaring 20s, helping to drive the Golden Age of American golf course architecture. At these developments, the Olmsteds specialized in land use, determining locations for homes, clubhouses, roads, golf courses, and other sports. They did an excellent job of identifying the land best suited to golf. At Gibson Island, for instance, the Olmsteds located the courses in the flatter land in the valleys and along the shoreline to limit the amount of dirt that would need to be moved.

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The Olmsted Brothers also helped with land management. At Augusta National, Olmsted associate William Marquis devised the complex drainage and water features and helped to design the famous plantings that line the courses fairways. Unfortunately, Marquis also vetoed MacKenzie’s proposed reversible par-3 course, saying the terrain wasn’t suitable.

Because of their involvement with so many great courses, the Olmsteds had an undeniable large and positive impact on the American game. But their work did open up a can of worms by combining golf and real estate.

In the decades after World War II, golf development continued to combine courses with homes, but without the Olmsteds’ light touch. Particularly in the 1980s and 90s, narrow playing corridors with homes packed along the sides became the norm. These courses did not tend to follow the principles of open space and naturalism that the Olmsteds pioneered.

In the late 1990s and afterwards, some golf developers reacted against poor real estate development courses by running in the opposite direction and creating golf destinations in remote or very rural areas. These courses account for much of the best golf architecture of the modern era. They are wonderful and idyllic, but unfortunately they cannot exist in all locations.

Unsuccessful interpretations of the Olmsteds’ approach should not lead us to believe that golf courses cannot be successfully interwoven with other kinds of development. Indeed, this combination is unlikely ever to disappear. So when golf and real estate must co-exist, we would do well to look to the Olmsteds’ body of work for guidance.