Sean's profile of Saunton East and West brought this to mind:
That architects for the last 80 years have simply been doing too darn much. They earn their livelihoods, to be sure, but are so concerned about putting and having 'architecture' everywhere that they forget about designing for the game -- a game that, for all our talk and all the technology, hasn't changed much at all in a hundred + years.
The objective has stayed the same; and the men and women who play it haven't changed either -- they are either competent golfers or they're hoping to become competent. And on their journeys -- over one hole or a full 18, after one year or over the course of a lifetime -- they want to be challenged and compete and have fun.
Look at the pictures of Saunton: there is such a refreshing lack of "architecture' -- a slightly preferred/better line off the tee here; a small bunker or two protecting one side of the green there -- but more than enough to 'separate' the competent golfers from the not so competent, more than enough to require the good player to hit good shots and make good choices if he is to score well, and more than enough to challenge (while not discouraging) the beginner.
The tigers will be tigers there, the rabbits can be rabbits (while not feeling that they are being condescended too).
The game hasn't changed, the people who play it haven't changed, the reasons we play haven't changed -- the only real change has been in the fields of play and in the architects who create those fields of play. Somewhere along the way -- and in part with the best of intentions, and with best "ideals" (and ideal golf courses) as a goal -- golf course architecture, as a profession, lost its way.
I think the dark side of a place like gca.com is that we -- and before us, others like us -- may actually be encouraging this trend, encouraging architects to walk even further along that wrong road. We want 'architecture'; we judge and rank designers and their courses by how much architecture (of the "right kind", naturally) they make manifest.
Saunton reminded me that architects (and people like me) put too much emphasis on and expect to see much more 'architecture' than the game actually needs, or has ever needed.
We have gained much with the professionalization of golf course design, but Saunton reminded me that we also may have lost much -- a measure of innocence and simplicity and the joys inherent in both. Like the playwright once said: "man can now conquer the skies in airplanes; but he's lost his wonder at the birds, and the air smells of gasoline".
Peter