Landscape architect Anna Boeschenstein curated a tight palette of native plants to unify and adorn this garden’s four terraced “rooms.”
Behind a contemporary residence on Grove Avenue, on a downhill slope that tapers to a wedge at its lowest point, Anna Boeschenstein turned a problem into a solution. She had been hired to design a garden on the site’s substantial 12-foot drop in elevation, with intimate space for entertaining small groups and a more expansive space to accommodate a crowd.
“The owners asked us to create a jewel box garden, like the ones they had seen in Charleston, South Carolina, where every inch is designed to the greatest effect,” she recalls. Boeschenstein, owner and founding principal of Grounded in Charlottesville, took advantage of the elevation change to engineer four terraced garden “rooms” that descend the slope. Each has its own personality and purpose.
Tapping into the modernist vocabulary she learned from her father, Warren Boeschenstein, a professor emeritus of architecture at the University of Virginia, Boeschenstein transformed the challenging space into a contemporary bijou. She describes working within a tight plant palette, curating a collection of hearty native plants and then “massing species to make the small site feel cohesive.” Showing similar restraint and intention in her material choices, she limited herself to bluestone for paving, seating, walls and steps.
The back of the house opens onto a small, secluded deck with a stone fireplace, both designed by Richmond’s Josh McCullar Architects. A flight of stained wood steps leads from the deck to a studio where the homeowner paints. There is no view from the studio, the homeowner notes. “I prefer to walk into the garden and discover what’s in bloom.”
Below, a bluestone patio fulfills the owner’s request for a small sitting area or a dining area for four people. The patio edge doubles as a wall of seating for the next level down.
The centerpiece of the site is an airy grove of six ginkgo trees. Called a bosque, the term is derived from the Spanish word for “forest” and refers to a formally planted grid of trees, often of a single species. Here, each gingko rises from the informal gravel surface like an arrow, its straight shaft ending in a slender crown. Eventually, the treetops will converge into a canopy, but for now they are freestanding. Boeschenstein included uplighting for the trees, making them even more enchanting at night — fulfilling the owner’s desire for a larger garden space where she envisions placing a long table for a large dinner party.
The bosque yields to a precise rectangle of grass on the next tier, which greens up each spring around the same time that a border of glorious pink Sarah Bernhardt peonies bursts into bloom around it.
Finally, Boeschenstein planted a rain garden at the lowest level, where stormwater from the entire property collects. Hidden behind an impressive American holly, grasses chosen for their ability to tolerate consistently moist soil encircle a storm drain that empties into the city’s stormwater management system, “so that the neighbors don’t get runoff from our property,” the owner explains.
Taken in full, the site’s problematic pitch becomes almost imperceptible. Boeschenstein has replaced it with a cascade of distinctly different garden rooms, each giving way to a new experience on the level below.
