And that's the best analogy I've come across lately for how to put a golf course together.
To get the perfect variety of 18 holes, you need some quieter notes, and there are moments where you ought to let one instrument or one hazard shine; and there are others where you throw the whole band at it.
But there are way too many architects who come out with a big band of guys who play loud and over the top of one another, to where you can't even tell how good each of the players really is.
That's an interesting analogy, but, I'm unclear as to how you go about conceptualizing and executing the process when it comes to GCA.
I'm fairly certain that you're not saying that you deliberately "dumb down" holes to further accentuate the better ones.
I had always perceived that you tried to find the best 18 holes available, sort of like the "Constellation" routing at Sand Hills, where about 120 potential holes were distilled down to 18 solid holes.
Is it unreasonable to conclude that on most sites that, "not all holes will be created equal" due to the site's constraints ?
That the process and almost every site produces variety, not just in the configuration of the holes, but in the quality of the holes as well ?
Having said all this, I would ask you this question.
At Pacific Dunes, what holes do you consider "weak" or lessor holes to the "outstanding" holes ?
And, what holes do you consider the outstanding holes ?
Patrick:
Indeed, the property automatically creates a variety of holes, if you know how to use it. But I don't think Lyle Lovett would agree that he is "dumbing down" some of the songs in his concert. Instead, he is simplifying some of them, so you're not overwhelmed and you can relax a little bit and appreciate them more.
Similarly, in golf you have to decide which holes ought to be bunkered heavily, and which don't need it; and which greens ought to be the most undulating, and which others somewhat flatter.
Some architects suggest that you balance these things ... if the hole is long and undulating, you need a flat green to compensate so the shot values aren't too severe. That's not what I saw in Scotland at all, or in many of the great courses. That's over-thinking it, and it doesn't come off as natural (not that all architects care about that).
Let's take Ballyneal as an example, just for a break from Bandon.
The first hole there is really simple ... a diagonal tee shot and a green with severe trouble on the left. There aren't a lot of bunkers to sort out from the tee; I didn't think you needed that on the first hole.
The second hole is also fairly straightforward, but much longer and a little bit blind off the tee; it's hard to get the ball close to the hole on the second, but not because the flag will be tucked behind a bunker.
The third is a pretty little par-3, but it's sometimes very hard to get close, because the green runs away from you.
The fourth is a huge view from the tee [the full on band!], a very exposed tee shot in the wind, and then a big choice to make if you're going to go for the green in two.
The fifth isn't a looker of a par-3, but there's a tiny bunker to attract your interest which the hole might be tucked right behind, and the green is very difficult if you're in the wrong part of it.
The sixth is a very difficult long 4, but it starts out with a blind tee shot and it's only when you get up to the green that you really find out how difficult the hole is.
The seventh is short but full of character; it's got one very prominent fairway bunker and a very wild and beautiful green.
I could go on, but I think you're getting the picture. Sometimes the length and challenge of the hole (or just the orientation) is what makes it memorable; sometimes the view overwhelms everything, so the architecture becomes simpler; and sometimes (as on holes 5 and 7) you amp up the features to command the player's attention, the same way a band leader would let one of his musicians take center stage for a bit. That's not dumbing it down.