Russell Page

The garden was entered by the Parisian seed house Vilmorin-Andrieux, with whom Page had collaborated closely since after the Second World War (the work itself was executed on their behalf by William Wood and Sons of Taplow).

Representing France, the theme of a potager was perfect. Two large formal box-edged beds were filled with lettuces, tomatoes, cabbages, carrots, leeks, onions strawberries and herbs, while smaller beds contained flowers: marigolds, salvias and petunias.

The truly remarkable aspect of the design, however, was the fruit trees. Grown against a wall were gridiron-trained pear and apples trees, with low espaliers beneath. Others, rising out of the beds, were trained in the shape of an urn or a goblet.

The idea for the concept came courtesy of Roy Hay, then editor of the 'Gardeners’ Chronicle', whom Vilmorin-Andrieux had asked for advice. The company’s initial response to his suggestion was that Hay wished to ruin the firm. Not only was the firm not ruined but the garden was awarded a gold medal.

Small, boxed in by surrounding buildings, and intended to be viewed mainly from the street, the garden at the Frick presented Page with a variety of design difficulties.

Using spatial illusions and clever planting – including his favourite Iceberg roses – he dealt with all of these challenges to create a serene and balanced space, full of interesting details; an oasis in the city.

He minimised the impact of the high buildings to the north by setting a planter atop the wall, filled with trees that both screened off the buildings behind and provided the illusion of greater depth by suggesting another garden at a higher level.

Trellises placed inside the niches which punctuated the north and east walls allowed further planting: ‘dark green curtains of espaliered cotoneaster and pyracantha, flowering in spring with Japanese quince'.

In the northeast corner, a 30-foot Metasequoia repeats the conical (though this time deciduous) form and masks a disagreeable corner at high level. The other trees are all flowerers that bloom after the first spring flush. Near the fence is a Mains hupehensis, latest crabapple to flower. After it comes Cladrastis lutea, a lovely yellow-wood.For still later, there is a flowered Koelreuteria, and latest of all the Japanese Sophora.

'Yes, it’s a lot of trees for a small space, but they are set so that from the street and from inside the building the eye may wander under a canopy of leaves and flowers through the airy spaces defined by their trunks.’ - Russell Page

Page had been invited to work on the project by Donald Kendall, chief executive officer of PepsiCo from 1971 to 1986 and the force behind the gardens and after whom they are named. Kendall saw the gardens as an outward manifestation of the company’s values: experimental yet stable.

In 1966 PepsiCo relocated its corporate headquarters. Surrounding the newly-built offices, the site, well over 100 acres, was laid out as gardens. Around 6,000 trees were added to an outer ring which buffered the property from land outside. Edward Durrell Stone Jr. (son of the complex’s architect), who was charged with landscaping the grounds, incorporated the eight sculptures in the collection into the overall design.

By the early 1980s the number of sculptures had grown to 28 and the layout needed updating accordingly. This plan presumably produced by PepsiCo, shows the layout of the site (with each piece of sculpture marked) at the time Page began working on the project.

In handwritten notes, Page summarised his initial thoughts:
‘The placing of several large pieces of sculpture has seriously affected the fluidity of the original composition. As things are the landscaping looks too bland and the sculpture too aggressive. The scales of the two elements are too disparate and the total visual effect may not be too bad as you drive past but looks deplorable if you are walking or stationary.[…] In the case of the Purchase Park, the lines and shapes of existing plantings have to be heavily strengthened and be made far more dramatic both in choice of trees and in their placing. The nature of the sculptures and their materials demands contrast in plant forms and textures and a careful study of light and shadow.’

The Lady Caroline Somerset and her husband David, the future Duke of Beaufort, first asked Page to work on the gardens in the mid-1960s. In 1963 they moved to the Cottage (on the estate) and soon set about transforming the garden at their new home.

Although covered in bindweed and ground elder, it had, according to Lady Caroline, ‘bones’: yew hedges, an orchard and walls more than one hundred and fifty years old. She was aware that she wanted the garden to be laid out as rooms, and spent a couple of years establishing the groundwork before enlisting Page’s help.

In 1984 David Somerset became the Duke of Beaufort, and Lady Caroline set about remodelling the gardens closer to the main house. When Steven Desmond visited Badminton in the early 1990s, he was informed by David Somerset that Page’s involvement in the design of these gardens was minimal:

‘The Duke knew Page quite well, and recalls him as a rather lonely man, confident in his own ability. On the back of an envelope, he sketched out the lines of the proposed Badminton garden on the east front of the house, but it got no further than that as mortality intervened soon afterwards.’

Although Page may have died before he could implement them he did in fact draw up a plan for the South Front garden and series of suggested designs for the East Front. These, it would seem, were used as a starting point by designer Francois Goffinet, who took over the project at Badminton (he also continued Page’s work at PepsiCo’s headquarters in America).