Lists to Learn From

[Sean_A]

Good post, Sean.  One question about width, though: isn't there a difference between a design that uses width to allow for the wind and one that uses width to take advantage of the wind?

There isn't any inherent value in width, is there? In force-gravity design, width is there to supply a relationship to the green (e.g., hole location of the day, the side upon which the green opens up or how the green is angled -- these are all gravitational issues).  In force-wind design, width is there to supply a relationship to the wind, for example to use the wind to "steer" his tee shot to a certain position or to position his ball for the next shot, which he would like to hit into the wind along a certain vector (see Tom Doak's comments on Rawls re quartering winds).

EDIT: is my wind-force point in the paragraph above the point you are making with N Berwick?

Mark

Mark

You are probably right that width in and of itself isn't inherently valuable.  I think of width as necessary requirement to allow for wind/hilly (my idea of gravity force to a lesser or greater degree)/firm sites.  I would also add centreline bunkers requiring width to really be well utilized if options is the goal.  This is where I make a distinction in types of centreline bunkers.  Bunkers stretching the width of the fairway are what I would call cross bunkers because they must be crossed (and they cross the fairway) to get to the green.  The way centreline bunkers are used on this site usually implies the options of right, left or over.

As to your question concerning width and taking advantage of the wind.  I am not sure I know what you mean.  Off the top of my head I would think taking advantage of wind is to create width in the design.  Some of the more interesting aspects of width and wind could mean awkward cross winds.  We saw this a lot at Birkdale where the pros seem to be battling cross opposite to the turn of fairways.  I spose you could say this sort of design doesn't take advantage of the wind in terms of "helping" the player, but if this opposite wind to fairway turn isn't done too much I think its ok.  Perhaps Birkdale goes a bit overboard with this.  This makes me wonder about Hoylake.  I've always found the 10th and especially the 12th to be very difficult because of the wind crossing a fairway turning AND sloping the other way.  I know its a championship course, but I wonder if more space were created up the poor angle of approach right side?

Ciao

[Matt MacIver]

I submit that to complete (or at least accelerate) your education one ought to see what NOT to do, whether that's tight fairways, high rough, forced carries, no options, etc.  I'm not going to list the courses, but I would think a good progression would be to study 20 great courses, then 5 "bad" and then the other 5 greats. 

[Mark Pearce]

There isn't any inherent value in width, is there? In force-gravity design, width is there to supply a relationship to the green (e.g., hole location of the day, the side upon which the green opens up or how the green is angled -- these are all gravitational issues).  In force-wind design, width is there to supply a relationship to the wind, for example to use the wind to "steer" his tee shot to a certain position or to position his ball for the next shot, which he would like to hit into the wind along a certain vector (see Tom Doak's comments on Rawls re quartering winds).

How is width there to allow the good player to steer his ball?  Do you mean that the width allows the good player to aim at one part of the fairway and allow the wind to steer it to another?  Isn't that taking the challenge away from the player?  I remember a couple of years ago seeing a junior match between the North of England and East Lothian at my club where there was a very strong cross wind on the 9th hole, a par 5.  To hit the 30 yard wide fairway some players were aiming 30 yards left of the left edge of the fairway, a line straight at an area of copsed oaks and deep, deep rough.  A ball landing at their aiming point would be irretrievably lost.  Those brave enough to take that line and hit a ball without draw, which would ride the wind, were rewarded by a hit fairway.  Those without the nerve to take that line tended to end in deep (but most likely findable) rough on the right of the fairway.  The very best players could consider aiming less far left and aiming to draw the ball against the wind.  I suspect the conditions that day would have been impossible for me or you.  A 60 yard wide fairway (and that 9th hole used to have a 60 yard wide fairway, or at least short rough) would have not posed the same challenge to their skills but I might have fancied my chances of hitting it.

I think, in fact, that there is inherent value in width.  Going back to the discussion some of us had with Adrian Stiff on the GCA rankings thread, width helps make a course playable for the weaker player.  Great design uses width to make a course playable for the 24 handicapper that Adrian settled on as the player that should be able to enjoy a "great" course but also to challenge the better player to place his drive to allow for the best approach shot (which the 24 handicapper, delighted to have hit the fairway, is not even considering).

[Mark Bourgeois]

Mark

Those who have seen my global assault upon car parks will attest to your remarks.

As regards the relationship of wind to width, sure, good design can and should "allow" for wind.  Per Reply #51:

Note well: some *allow* for the wind but the wind is not fundamental to their defense.  Every course is harder in the wind, but unlike force-gravity courses, force-wind courses literally are incomplete when becalmed, or even when played in the “wrong” wind.

So, yes, there IS some inherent value in width.  I reckon what I am saying is that "good" architecture, be it force-gravity or force-wind, allows for playability in wind.  (Really, in all sorts of conditions.)  It accepts the possibility.

BUT: "great" force-wind architecture goes beyond simply allowing for playability under many conditions, it finds a way to utilize the wind.

In your example, players were "negotiating" the wind.  Wouldn't a better force-wind design (was this a force-gravity design?) be one where they crafted shots and chose routes to gain a positional advantage?

Width is necessary but insufficient: I played TOC earlier this year in a steady 25-mph wind, with the same ball.  Does that fact alone make it great force-wind architecture?

All that said, still not sure about a list that is a simple bifurcation into force-gravity and force-wind design.  Even if those were the right functional distinctions, shouldn't aesthetics count, too?

Maybe what we are working towards is a sort of taxonomy, albeit a messy one, along the lines of the following "sub" syllabi:
Force-wind
Force-gravity (might need the most entries, given coverage of bunkering, green complexes)
Aesthetics
Realized Success / Noble Failure Pairings
???

Meanwhile, press on with the course descriptions.  These may provide insights on the appropriate taxonomy -- which maybe just ends up a sort of list of 30 design "elements."


Links at Hope Island (force-gravity, realized success / not sure the noble failure pairing) -- how (and how well) links design principles can be applied to non-links settings.  This course in fact may be called an "anti-links" in many ways: cart-only, uninspiring ground, inland, and in a sub-tropical climate.  Called by Ran Morrissett "one of the dozen most strategic courses built in the past 60 years...," of particular note is the placement of more than 120 bunkers to influence line of play: "The author is unaware of any course built since WWII where so many bunkers were centrally placed within the confines of the fairway."

Specifically, holes surrounded by short grass: 4, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 16, and 18 (of course!).

And yet some holes have their strategy influenced by a solitary greenside bunker: 2, 6, 7, 10, and 16, this last an excellent example of risk-tempting, driveable length.


St. George's (force-gravity: use of "topographical angles") -- a master class in the imaginative uses of topography in all three dimensions.  Ian Andrew holds it to be the "best routing of the Canadian course with its brilliant use of the bisecting valleys."  Called by Ran Morrissett a "scintillating piece of property with the perfect amount of roll for a golf course," nevertheless Tom Doak has written that few architects, himself included, likely would have routed the holes so ingeniously as did Stanley Thompson.  On many holes, the driving or landing zone is perched precariously on a ridge or near a dropoff that runs diagonally (rather than lengthwise or crosswise) such that the golfer is constantly challenged to place his ball properly, or suffer awkward lies.  Ingeniously, the design tempts the golfer to challenge the ridge or other topographical feature in order to open up an easier second shot, the 2nd and 14th being but two famous examples, and deservedly so!

Mark

[Philippe Binette]

Here's my list to learn from:

Old Course at St. Andrews: strategy
North Berwick: fun
Garden City: simple
Royal Melbourne: scale and beauty
Oakmont: difficulty

if you spend 10 days on each of these courses and you get it, you should be able to translate your knowledge into form...

The get it part is important... Some have played those courses 100s of times and still don't get it

[Peter Pallotta]

Philippe - a no-nonsense answer there, and a helpful one. Thanks.

Mark - excellent last few posts. I DO NOT want to stall any momentum, so please see this as just an aside, from way off to the side. 

As you say, width is a necessary but insufficient requirement.

I think it is insufficient for one major reason, i.e. for strategic/playability purposes, that width needs to be coupled with good and interesting and challenging greens and green complexes.

But the hard part is how to 'quantify' (wrong word) the success of that relationship, or how to 'qualify' (wrong word) the nature of that relationship on any given hole or on a golf course as a whole.

What 'weight' (wrong word) does one give to width and what weight to greens/green complexes? If a course has fantastically interesting and challenging greens coupled with only some modestly wide fairways, is that 'better' (you know) than its opposite?

What are the blatant and hidden assumptions about an 'ideal' (wrong word) relationship between wide fairways and good greens?

Peter 

[Mark Bourgeois]

What about the first part of this excerpt from Tom Doak's writeup of Commonwealth?

Commonwealth (Lane and Morpeth) -- "the genius of Commonwealth is its adherence to one simple rule -- that each green should be oriented or tilted in such a way that it cradles an approach from one side of the fairway, but shoulders away shots from the incorrect line of attack."  The other secret to success is they left construction to a professional, the value being the ability to construct "natural-looking" greens and bunkers.

As the equivalent of a sophomore, if not a sophomoric, student of architecture, I sure ain't qualified to answer your question.  The challenge of this exercise is for a bunch of amateurs to put together some sort of list.

I have noted with interest that the professionals who have been generous with us on this thread make short, pithy posts whereas I drone on. Hopefully this isn't a fool's errand!

Mark

[Peter Pallotta]

Mark -

I think I've been misunderstanding you. I thought we were looking not so much for a list as for another KIND of list, i.e. for a guideline/mechanism for best learning about architecture.

For me, I think the study of one architect's courses is the ideal way -- but I admit that this is a temperamental bias, i.e. that's the way I tend to study anything I'm interested in, by picking one great and reading everything he's/she's written over and over again, and to the exclusion of everyone else. I can't say that it has "served me well" because I'm not sure what that means.

No, certainly not a fool's errand, but a momumental one....and look who's here trying to help, not the sophomore but the sophomoric!

Peter

[Mark Bourgeois]

Peter

Well, the idea is to come up with a list of courses that would offer some sort of architectural payoff, an education.  I would call that a different kind of list than virtually every one you will find out there, the notable exceptions being the lists of Patric Dickinson, Tom Doak, and Ran Morrissett -- but arguably the focus of those is not exclusively "architecture," although obviously to various degrees it plays a significant role

For example, Ran writes learning about architecture is intended as only a secondary or incidental benefit of studying the courses on his list:

The courses included are ones from which the author believes there is much to be learned. Many of the courses are not 'championship' courses (whatever that means) or necessarily the best conditioned courses, but they share a single important characteristic: they are inspiring to play, be it by yourself, with your dog, family or friends.

Enjoyment is the primary theme of these descriptions, but when taken together, these course profiles hopefully trace the history and improvements/setbacks in golf course architecture.

The thing about a lot of lists out there is, what's the point?  What's the intrinsic value to playing the list of courses on Golf Magazine's world top 100?  You might learn about architecture, as an incidental thing, or you might not.  You could miss some things, while learning some things over and over.  Additionally, a list is just a list, there's no meaning in it or lessons to be learned (unless it's a narrow list, like "best use of strategic bunkering").

 In contrast, a syllabus of courses who have distinct architectural lessons to recommend themselves sounds like a quest worth pursuing.

So I think -- I hope -- we are in agreement: a guideline for best learning about architecture.  There are any number of ways to go about that.

One way as you suggest is to go deep on one architect.  And it's a great way: you may not be aware, but last year was declared the "IMY." International Mackenzie Year.  (Probably no one is aware 2007 was the IMY because its declarer neglected to tell anyone other than himself.)

A year to read what he wrote, what others wrote about him, to play and to study his courses.  As the IMY sojourners are painfully slow to learn, the governing body of the IMY has been forced to declare 2008 "another IMY year" and probably will be forced to do same for 2009. Perhaps a comet will be sighted and an IMD (International Mackenzie Decade) will be declared.

Another approach is the Great Books method: study 30 or so courses each of which can make a unique contribution to learning about architecture.  Not necessarily the "greatest" or even successful designs, these courses offer lessons.

The hard bit in coming up with the list is trying to figure out what those lessons should be and which courses teach them best given one lacks the knowledge to develop the syllabus and hasn't played the courses.  The alternative is to come up with a naive list, and hope some sort of lessons come forth. But a list without rationale is experience without meaning.

IMHO the better approach is to at least attempt a syllabus of courses to study and what to study about them, even though that attempt will fall short.

What's interesting about this is that the process of creating the list offers an education itself, which could be why we're three pages into this thread and still in the process of "negotiating meaning."

Mark

[Mark Bourgeois]

Process-check: courses that have been mentioned along with rationale so far:

Addington (Abercromby) -- defines shot values starkly, illustrates the false distinction between "penal" and "strategic."

Alwoodley, Royal Melbourne, ANGC (NLE) and Meadow Club are perhaps the four designs that represent Mac's efforts to work out TOC's deep architecture.

Ballybunion (Simpson) -- "one of the most brilliant routing plans ever conceived," as it "cuts back and forth between the coastline and the dunes so that not all the most spectacular holes on the course are all encountered in a line."  (A modern architect would save the coast for a big finish.)  Several all-world holes and the subtle but excellently conceived greens add a dimension to the test most GB&I links lack.

Casa de Campo (Dye) -- "the prototypical Pete Dye course: chock-full of outstanding holes with a spectacular bent to them, tremendous selection of tees to temper the difficulties of the course for any level of player, a routing with a near-mathematical symmetry to the angles of the doglegs and location of the principal hazards, and a picture-postcard set of par-3 holes"

Commonwealth (Lane and Morpeth) -- "the genius of Commonwealth is its adherence to one simple rule -- that each green should be oriented or tilted in such a way that it cradles an approach from one side of the fairway, but shoulders away shots from the incorrect line of attack."  The other secret to success is they left construction to a professional, the value being the ability to construct "natural-looking" greens and bunkers.

The Creek (Macdonald and Raynor) -- "a bit short in length, but long on character"

Cruden Bay -- from Ran's writeup: "Some holes are pure linksland, one is on top of a ridge, one is in a bowl, one falls off a ridge and others are sandwiched between the ridge and the North Sea. There are blind shots, consecutive par threes, and two drivable par fours.  The result? A course that inspires golfers the world over. By letting the land dictate the course, Simpson and Fowler came up with an absolute winning 'formula.' They delivered on what Tom Doak points out is the most basic element of good routing: that the holes follow the same path a person would take if he were to walk the property before the course was built."

Desert Highlands (Nicklaus) -- the first desert course to carry the concept of the "desert course" to completion: it is theoretically impossible to integrate a golf course into a desert environment.  Nicklaus's "unique design" of double-wide fairways and transition bunkers are responsible for the success.

Durban Country Club (Waters and Waterman) -- "unlike any links course you've seen, Durban's best holes are set across the very tops of the dunes, as well as through the valleys between them." The first five holes, the 8th and 17-18 are "absolutely outstanding and, in some cases, unique holes which everyone should see in their lifetime."

Forest Highlands (Morrish and Weiskopf) -- "the fairway clearings are ample, giving the course a scale to complement the scenery around it...despite their their unusually small number, the two-shot holes are the class of the course...meanwhile the short and long holes complement each other well."

Garden City: simple

Huntercombe - A look at the architectural bridge between Victorian and Modern architecture.  Also, a study in how the features cab be transferred to nearly all traditional golf sites.

Kington, Pennard --  Width is essential, plus, there obviously needs to be a fair amount of land movement. Pennard is a course which depends wholly on gravity and wind force much more than any championship course could.  Kington is also a excellent choice.  There is one caveat though.  Often times, archies build in safe guards for wing and gravity.  Meaning containment mounding/bunkering is used to hold shots up.  Both Kington and Pennard are unrelenting in being anti-containment.  So I would say both are extreme examples and perhaps this is why they are not often seen as great courses.   

Kennemer, Muirfield (Colt) -- Ideal wind-force routing is an "Olympic Triangle" routing: should include beat, reach, and run legs (relative to prevailing wind).

Links at Hope Island (force-gravity, realized success / not sure the noble failure pairing) -- how (and how well) links design principles can be applied to non-links settings.  This course in fact may be called an "anti-links" in many ways: cart-only, uninspiring ground, inland, and in a sub-tropical climate.  Called by Ran Morrissett "one of the dozen most strategic courses built in the past 60 years...," of particular note is the placement of more than 120 bunkers to influence line of play: "The author is unaware of any course built since WWII where so many bunkers were centrally placed within the confines of the fairway." Specifically, holes surrounded by short grass: 4, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 16, and 18 (of course!).  And yet some holes have their strategy influenced by a solitary greenside bunker: 2, 6, 7, 10, and 16, this last an excellent example of risk-tempting, driveable length.

Noble Failure: Meadow Club
Realized Success: Alwoodley, Royal Melbourne West or, perhaps, El Boqueron

Meadow Club is a very good course, with much to recommend it.  But in some ways it shows the limits of Mackenzie's principles given things like terrain, local climate -- and lawyers.  Especially lawyers! (The problem, in a word: trees.)  In my mind, the design illustrates Mac's efforts to get down to the ur-TOC.

Noble Failure: Noordwijkse
Realized Success: Sacred Nine
This may not be the right twinning, but the former is low VORP and the latter is high VORP.  Noordwijkse is located on what must have been utterly fantastic dunesland.  It's not bad, but when you look across the fence on 5 (I think) at the property next door, and then head into a forest(!), your heart breaks at what might have been.  What might have been? Maybe for the Realized Success we need a dunesland course not the Royal Worlington.  Or maybe we twin it with Royal Worlington and, say, Ballybunion Old.

North Berwick: fun
North Berwick an excellent example of wind-force design.  Though it is on a tight property (which makes it all the more unusual for wind force design), there is ample room to let the wind perform its tricks in both helpful and not so helpful ways to the golfer. 

Oakmont: difficulty

REDACTED Old Course at St. Andrews: strategy

Painswick - Accepting the limitations of the land and maximizing what the land has to offer.  Why the "vital statistics" don't matter.

Pasatiempo (Mackenzie) -- "true to Mackenzie form, it plays much longer than the 6,400 yards on the scorecard; I wish I knew how he managed that." (From the writeup; Pasa not in Gourmet's Choice.)

Pinehurst - How a championship course can test the top players, but 24 cappers needn't lose a ball

Portmarnock: " Portmarnock is not only Ireland's finest course but one of the four best tests of golf in the British Isles. The majority of Portmarnock's holes are tucked in the folds between the dunes or separated by sharp ridges of rough. What makes the course fearsome, aside from its length (7,093 yards), is the combination of heavy swirling winds and the formidable rough—a thick growth of seaside grass, creeping willow, ferns, yarrow and countless wild rosebushes." -- Herbert Warren Wind.

Prairie Dunes -- could be studied for gravity (Maxwell Rolls!), but the locals will tell you the course needs a wind from a certain direction and of a certain speed to present the intended test.

Rawls (Doak) -- "the strong prevailing winds had a lot to do with the final design. Fairway bunkers jut prominently into the line of play, forcing players to judge whether they can make the carry in the wind conditions of the moment. Wide fairways give the player a chance to drive to one side, and use a quartering wind to help stop an approach shot instead of sweeping it away. Downwind approach shots will likely run quite far after they land, so players must place their tee shot to play around any hazards at the front of the green, instead of having to carry them. The varying winds mean that the length of tee shots will vary from day-to-day, and ensure that the course plays differently from one day to the next." (Note: these are Doak's comments on the Rawls website.)

Royal Melbourne: scale and beauty

St Enodoc - A study of short 4s amongst other things

St. George's (force-gravity: use of "topographical angles") -- a master class in the imaginative uses of topography in all three dimensions.  Ian Andrew holds it to be the "best routing of the Canadian course with its brilliant use of the bisecting valleys."  Called by Ran Morrissett a "scintillating piece of property with the perfect amount of roll for a golf course," nevertheless Tom Doak has written that few architects, himself included, likely would have routed the holes so ingeniously as did Stanley Thompson.  On many holes, the driving or landing zone is perched precariously on a ridge or near a dropoff that runs diagonally (rather than lengthwise or crosswise) such that the golfer is constantly challenged to place his ball properly, or suffer awkward lies.  Ingeniously, the design tempts the golfer to challenge the ridge or other topographical feature in order to open up an easier second shot, the 2nd and 14th being but two famous examples, and deservedly so!

Sandwich - The only Championship course I know of that takes big hitting and still retains an element of "luck" due to how the land was used.

Tobacco Road - Modern architecture doesn't need to be boring or conventional to be good

Woodhall Spa - How penal bunkering can make or break a course.  How flat terrain can still be made relevant.

Mark

[Peter Pallotta]

Mark - thanks very much for this. I've cut and pasted it into its own file, and saved it. And everything is much clearer to me now - the method in the madness and all that...

Also, while I didn't know that 2008 was IMY (a failure of the governing body), I had a feeling that you...I mean, someone...was honouring it.

Thanks again, Mark
Peter

[Mark Bourgeois]

George Pazin started a very good thread a while back asking for five "must-study" courses. (Click here for the link.)

Included was the excellent exposition by Ian Andrew.  Intriguing to consider how the force-wind / force-gravity / aesthetic framework is supported by his comments -- but also to ask how the framework might be advanced:

1. St. Andrew’s (nature) – the contours make the course

If you could only study one course it would be St. Andrew’s. There are too many lessons to explain, but the one that is most important is the value of a contour on and off the green. St. Andrew’s features some of the boldest undulations on any putting surface, and positional play is important to accessing many of the pins. It shows how great greens can dictate strategy right back to the tee. The wonderful knolls, knuckles, rolls, humps, and hollows found around the greens require additional creativity to deal with. They take a player’s full imagination to overcome and there is nothing more fun than that.

2. Pinehurst #2 (Ross) – the difficulty of short grass

Whether Ross created the fall away greens and chipping areas is a moot point, all that matters is what effect it has on play. Short grass can be a more effective hazard that a bunker, it’s easier for a weaker player, but far more daunting for a better player. The advantage to a weaker player is they can play to their strengths, the disadvantage to a good player is they are faced with too many options. Bad decisions are often a bigger factor than poor execution. They may not need to be a severe as Pinehurst’s greens, but the effect is still the same.

3. San Francisco (Tillinghast) – scale and grandeur

I admire Tillinghast’s ability to think on a grand scale. This is likely the hardest of all the skills to explain or to aquire. San Francisco is as big and wide a golf course that I know, it features some of the most elaborate and bold bunkering that I have ever seen. The delight is how the architecture fits the property through Tillinghast’s use of additional clearing width and large open spaces. It takes a very clever architect to understand how to expand the scale of a golf course without overwhelming everything around it. This is one of the few cases where it works to perfection.

4. Merion (Hugh Wilson) – greatness on a small property

Merion may be the best routing in golf. On such a small property Hugh Wilson was able to find a flawless layout. The fun of the golf course routing is that it has a number of unconventional aspects to it: all par fives are in the first four holes, there is a long run of shorter holes from 7 through to 13, all climaxed by a grinding finishing 5. It works so well for two reasons; the first is that Wilson has simply used the best available holes and not been influenced by convention. The second is the rhythm of the course, it works almost like a three act play. The player is given a firm introduction to the course and it’s challenges in the opening 6, he is given an opportunity to try and be much more aggressive or to even score if he dares for the next 7, and the final act is survival. Merion gives the player all they can handle in the final 5 to see how good they really are.

5. National Golf links of America (MacDonald) – understanding strategies of the great holes

Many people believe there are no new ideas to bring to the game, that everything has been done, and the newness is more the ability of the architect to adapt old ideas to new situations. Charles Blair Macdonald adapted the great holes and strategies to create the National Golf Links of America. The lesson is simple; to be a great architect you must study and understand the ideas of the great holes before you can design them yourself. Macdonald’s adaptations are some of the finest, and some of his more innovative uses of them are well worth studying too.

6. Riviera (Thomas) – asking the player to work the ball

George Thomas probably combined strategy and beauty as well as any architect. He was a master strategist, who rewarded a player for positional play, but liked to make the player work to get the ball into position. There is no course quite like Riviera, where a player is continuously encouraged to hit either a draw or fade off the tee. Where the course excels further is the continuous balance back and forth so that no player has an advantage; many of the holes call for fade from the tee and then the draw on the approach, the next hole will often ask for the exact opposite strategy so no player can gain an advantage. He expertly used a combination of Eucalyptus trees, bunkers, slopes of the greens, and the baranca to make the player shape their shots. Riviera is a remarkably well balanced test of shot-making.

Mark

[Peter Pallotta]

Mark - I've been reading that post trying to find new elements to advance/broaden your framework. But Ian's list actually helps identify elements that need NOT be part of a framework.  Note the striking differences between (and/or uniqueness of) the courses Ian mentions, e.g. the grand SCALE at San Francisco compared to the intimacy of the Merion site; the demands for specific SHOT-MAKING at Riviera compared to the relative openess and freedom of choice at TOC;  the very unusual PACE and RHYTHM of Merion's routing (with all Par 5s in the first 4 holes); the relative absence of HAZARDS at Pinehurst; the crucial role of CONTOURS at TOC.

What I'm trying to say is that Ian's list (perhaps not by accident) suggests that 6 of the world's great courses (all courses worth studying from an architectural perspective) don't have much in common in terms of the oft-used CRITERIA for judging (and ranking?) golf courses.  Which suggests to me that none of the elements I've capitalized above are in and of themselves NECESSARY REQUIREMENTS of great golf course architecture.

Which, if that makes any sense and if it holds any water for you as a theory, is noteworthy I think.   Which is not to say that someone can't add to your framework, Mark -- but to say that the framework you articulated in the last post is looking better all the time, not despite but because of a certain vagueness (i.e. a lack of specificity, and a lack of specific/concrete rules)

Peter

[Tom_Doak]

In the back of THE ANATOMY OF A GOLF COURSE, I also provided lists of courses worth studying for their routing, their bunkering, and their greens.  That list is 17 years old now, so it omits a bunch of modern courses, but it might have been the best place to start.

[Mark Bourgeois]

Thanks, Peter and Tom.  Tom, I am going through those lists and reading the synopses on each course mentioned.  The latter helps as it provides guidance on what exactly each course offers of architectural merit.

Here are a few possible additions (or further illuminating comments on those already mentioned):

Portmarnock (force-gravity): "Portmarnock is not only Ireland's finest course but one of the four best tests of golf in the British Isles. The majority of Portmarnock's holes are tucked in the folds between the dunes or separated by sharp ridges of rough. What makes the course fearsome, aside from its length (7,093 yards), is the combination of heavy swirling winds and the formidable rough—a thick growth of seaside grass, creeping willow, ferns, yarrow and countless wild rosebushes." -- Herbert Warren Wind.

"[W]ith only low dunes and an occasional fir tree to offer any respite from the winds that howl across its plain...an ingenious routing plan changes the direction of play continually, requiring an adjustment on every tee, and while there is a bit more roll to the fairways and tilt to the stances at Portmarnock, there is again rarely the intrusion of a terrible bounce into trouble..." -- Tom Doak.

(Doak's description indicates a force-wind "purebred.")

Shinnecock (force-wind): Shinnecock is "one of the greatest examinations in using the wind, as the two prevailing winds (which are 90 degrees opposed), combined with frequent changes in direction in the routing, ensure that you'll have your fill of the wind from all quarters." -- Tom Doak

Royal Dornoch (force-gravity): With its "slick greens and tricky approaches" (Gary Wolstenholme), Dornoch's tumbling terrain "plays as if it were long, even in little or no breeze" (Richard Goodale). "Since [Tom] Morris had moved green sites from hollows to plateaus, golfers could not rely on gravity to get their ball towards the hole.  Chipping and putting skills became more crucial...The playing angles and micro-undulations in the fairways are exquisite." -- Goodale / WAOG.

[Note: echoing Portmarnock's possible status in the force-wind world, Royal Dornoch, along with #2 and Royal Melbourne Composite, sounds like one of the world's great "master classes" in force-gravity design.]

Winged Foot West -- "The greens are small and steeply banked, and every one but the last is flanked by deep bunkers to both sides...there is nothing intrinsically unique about the course in contour or scenery; it seems like one ought to be able to build a course just like it on any piece of parkland..." -- Tom Doak.

[Note: this description offers an intriguing notion for how to assess the "architectural lessons" of a course.  WFW for gravity sounds like Rawls for wind: courses that offer their respective lessons in gravity and wind "pure," which is to say unadorned with features that serve to "camouflage" the core lesson.]

At WFW, Tillinghast built "some of the most heavily contoured putting surfaces in his portfolio, and configuring them in ways designed to favour approach shots played from specific fairway angles, thus creating somewhat more driving strategy than might be apparent at first glance." -- WOAG

Mark

[Mark Bourgeois]

I continue to think about Adam Clayman’s comments – not least of which because I will have no opportunity to play many if not most of the courses that appear on the list!

So here’s the moral justification for such a list: the annotations, rationale and structure to the list provide the lessons, the courses the examples.  As the lessons are what we are after, the golfer may find them in any number of courses -- but he needs to know what to look for.  Additionally, while the experience is necessary for the meaning, the “experience” may carry a certain elasticity: reading, studying, and / or watching a tournament via television may enable us to learn something.

Mark

[Carl Rogers]

This thread sounds like the beginning of a book or dvd narrated by (who??), say Clint Eastwood.  As a member of a related design field (building architecture), life long golfer and frequent reader of this site, I can say that there will be no agreement.  So just accept that, agree on what you can agree on and create a fully documented and photographed text with a lot of topographic work also.

Or the beginning of a formalized university design cirriculum...

I have learned a lot from this site but only at an anecdotal level.

[Mark Bourgeois]

Mark,

Building on your post.  What core principle do we start with and then which 10 courses should be analyzed in light of that principle?

JC and Peter,

Getting back to the "timeless truths" idea, which I think is really interesting, how would you try to get at those, if you could only come to them via playing? One thought I had was to play just one course containing a fair number of template holes repeatedly until the idea you were playing templates sort of faded away and you were out there just trying to play the hole. Then, once the playing of the template holes sunk into your bones, you went off and played the originals. You played them enough times for those holes to sink into your bones.

I assume you would / could draw some sort of conclusions but would those amount to "timeless truths"? For example, what if you played a bunch of Eden holes and came away with the "truth" that designers should have a par 3 hole with a bunker front left and a bunker front right? Is that the lesson of the Eden? Seems like that's missing something. How deep do you need to dig to get at a universal principle?

[Peter Pallotta]

Mark - thanks for bumping this; it was a pleasure to re read your thoughts/ideas, and to watch them evolve. I will have to give this some time and thought, but your mention of coming to an understanding "via playing" only got me to thinking this: that in the game itself, the playing of the game, there are only so many things you can do with the golf ball - hit it so it moves left, moves right, or stays straight; hit it high, or low; hit it short or long. So inherent in the playing of the game are a series of 'combinations' (from basic to complex, and from the obligatory to the preferred) that the architecture can create/enhance or limit. For example, a certain kind of architecture can create the combination (by creating the need) for a shot that moves right, and is hit high and long. If that is the only kind of 'combination' possible or desirable (the only combination that can secure a par and make a birdie possible) it is not so much bad as it is limited. On the other hand, there may be architecture that creates and allows for a) a short, low, straight shot followed by a second and then a third short, low, straight shot, all of which leads to a putt for par; or b) a shot moving right and low and long, followed by a shot moving high and left, leading to two putts for par -- and, in offering two combinations, adds the element of choice/thought to the mix...and thus, by definition, is less limiting. Elements like width, angles, contours, wind and elevation work together as the materials (and the underlying principles of their use) from which these combinations emerge, and so perhaps "in the playing" only is where we can experience the relationship between principles-materials and combinations.

But alas, I am rambling -- I'll leave this to bumble along in my head for a while

P.S. In short, the core truths/fundamental principles that great architects understand and make manifest in their courses are the varied relationships between what the golf ball can do and what the architecture allows/invites it to do.  

Peter  

[Jason Topp]

I also appreciate seeing this thread.  In answer to the original question, I am thinking along the lines of pairing up courses in similar environments that take very different design approaches.  Pairing them in this manner would provide a good test of the general preferences expressed on this board.

Cliffside - Torrey Pines v. Pebble Beach
Links - Troon v. Prestwick
Desert - Desert Highlands v. Estancia v. Desert Forest
Sandbelt - not sure of the best comparison
Heathland - Swinley Forest v. Wentworth West
Mountainside - Stoneeagle v. Reserve
Eastern inland clubs - Oakmont v. ?
Long Island - NGLA v. Shinnecock
Parkland  - Merion v. HVGC
NC Sandhills - No 2 v. No 8
Florida  - Old Corkscrew v. Hideout ( I am sure Seminole could be paried with something.  I just do not know what)
Flat ground - Talking Stick North v. Shadow Creek
Links like - Kingsley v. Arcadia
Tall Trees - Sahalee v. Harbour Town

[Bill_McBride]

Jason, why not Pacific Dunes vs Pebble Beach?  I think they are more comparable in terms of cliff top holes directly above the beach.  Especially if you toss in the Bandon Dunes holes!

[Jason Topp]

Jason, why not Pacific Dunes vs Pebble Beach?  I think they are more comparable in terms of cliff top holes directly above the beach.  Especially if you toss in the Bandon Dunes holes!

That would work also but I wonder whether or not the total amount of cliffside available at Torrey Pines is similar in length, if not appearance, to Pebble.  I also thought the ground conditions at Pebble might be more comparable to those at Torrey Pines. 

I was thinking of adding Pacific Dunes v. Bandon Dunes which is an interesting comparison and one where individual preferences vary significantly at least when I visited several years ago.

[Alex Miller]

What about a list that move chronologically through the still existing important courses? That is highs AND lows, because what are we really learning about the greatness of some courses if we can't see that they are special.

Curriculums start somewhere as should this list. Another way to construct it could be quickly working from bad to good (4-5 courses) that show the impact that different features have on making a golf course great: strategic bunkering, routing, interesting greens, variety of approach shots, playability, etc...

I'm afraid I wouldn't know where to start on either of these suggestions, but we are talking about a list of 30 courses! Surely there's room for a few duds for comparison. If there's a refusal to play anything below a Doak 8 then you're missing a lot of golf architecture.

[Sven Nilsen]

What about a list that move chronologically through the still existing important courses? That is highs AND lows, because what are we really learning about the greatness of some courses if we can't see that they are special.

Curriculums start somewhere as should this list. Another way to construct it could be quickly working from bad to good (4-5 courses) that show the impact that different features have on making a golf course great: strategic bunkering, routing, interesting greens, variety of approach shots, playability, etc...

I'm afraid I wouldn't know where to start on either of these suggestions, but we are talking about a list of 30 courses! Surely there's room for a few duds for comparison. If there's a refusal to play anything below a Doak 8 then you're missing a lot of golf architecture.

Alex:

Seems like this is what they did with Golf's Grand Design.  Perhaps someone can provide a list of the courses chosen by Whitten et al. for the documentary.  (I don't have the book, but I'd guess they go into a bit more detail and cover more courses therein.)

Sven

[Phil McDade]

I also appreciate seeing this thread.  In answer to the original question, I am thinking along the lines of pairing up courses in similar environments that take very different design approaches.  Pairing them in this manner would provide a good test of the general preferences expressed on this board.

Cliffside - Torrey Pines v. Pebble Beach
Links - Troon v. Prestwick
Desert - Desert Highlands v. Estancia v. Desert Forest
Sandbelt - not sure of the best comparison
Heathland - Swinley Forest v. Wentworth West
Mountainside - Stoneeagle v. Reserve
Eastern inland clubs - Oakmont v. ?
Long Island - NGLA v. Shinnecock
Parkland  - Merion v. HVGC
NC Sandhills - No 2 v. No 8
Florida  - Old Corkscrew v. Hideout ( I am sure Seminole could be paried with something.  I just do not know what)
Flat ground - Talking Stick North v. Shadow Creek
Links like - Kingsley v. Arcadia
Tall Trees - Sahalee v. Harbour Town

Jason:

At the risk of inciting a riot.....

Sand Hills vs. Ballyneal

From all that I've read (haven't played or seen either), they represent two somewhat different takes on the genre.