The ANNOTICO Report

The NEW Getty Center perched just above Sunset Blvd  west of the San Diego Freeway (405) in Brentwood (adjacent to BelAir/Los Angeles is a monstrous thing of beauty, housing an enormous wealth of art. ( Apparently, a lot of it "looted" from Italy.)

But this is about the first, and older, and miniscule in  comparison Getty Villa located on Pacific Coast Highway, overlooking the Pacific Ocean, in Pacific Palisades, at the southern tip of Malibu, perhaps 6 miles west from its successor.

In 1973, Jean Paul Getty planned an ambitious folly: a precise replica of Villa dei Papiri, a grand home destroyed in Herculaneum. Italy, near Pompeii in AD 79, that would house his collection of Roman and Greek antiquities that would be surrounded on the 64 acres, by an ancient Roman garden from the Italian coast 2,000 years ago: an intimate inner courtyard with a reflecting pool; a formal outer peristyle garden with covered walkways, hedged paths and a long, rectangular pool; a walled garden; and an herb garden. Every plant on the plan was chosen to be as faithful as possible to the Villa dei Papiri's.

In my future visits to both the Center and the Villa, I will certainly now give far more attention to the Gardens.
 

Getty's constant gardener
Richard Naranjo knows the elaborate Italian flora of J. Paul Getty's villa better than anyone. He planted it, spent his life tending it -- and is sprucing it up for a second act.
Los Angeles Times
By Christy Hobart
Special to The Times
January 12, 2006

[Excerpted and Rephrased]

....The Landscapers had to track down and plant the flora, from the common (oleander, bay laurel and boxwood) to the unusual (Serbian bellflower, butcher's broom and medlar trees) — all under intense scrutiny. J. Paul Getty wanted every detail executed precisely, "Not just the building, but the surroundings and the feeling,". "Getty was extremely interested in the gardens."

Because the building already had been erected, It was a massive and creative undertaking just to get the soil needed into the enclosed courtyards, the grown trees, and the 3,500 boxwood plants.

J. Paul Getty died in 1976, and since he lived the greater part of his latter life in England, (and was afraid of flying) never made it back to see the finished villa. Getty's burial in Malibu lacked the expected pomp and grandeur. The bodies of Getty and two of his sons, George and Timothy, were moved to the villa for reburial. In a shaded spot near a bench where Getty often sat, looking out to the Pacific, awaited a mausoleum.

When the NEW Getty Museum was opened, The Villa was closed for a nine-year renovation. It is scheduled to reopen Jan. 28.

Richard Naranjo, the Manager of Grounds and Gardens at the Villa, has been there from the beginning, and those 30 years have been a learning process, since few people knew what flora existed 2000 years ago at Herculaneum, and it was ESSENTIAL that he know so that the replication be ACCURATE, as per Getty's demands.

Naranjo takes great delight in taking people on tours of the grounds, and in pointing out the rich "obscurities" that will escape almost everyone's glance.

In the herb garden ("It really should be called a 'kitchen garden,' " Naranjo notes), he climbs a short, steep, chamomile-covered knoll. His footsteps release a wonderful flowery scent until he stops at an unimpressive looking tree with shriveled fruit hanging from its branches.

"I'm very proud of this," he says, touching a limb. "It's a medlar. It's very typically Roman and it's very hard to find." The fruit, he says, is somewhat bitter. Although it is appropriate in this garden, these particular type of olive trees are not. "They should be a fruiting variety. But I knew people would walk on the dropped fruit, then track them into the museum floors."

He points out capers growing on the stone wall, and basil plants. "I always thought that cilantro was from Mexico," he says, shaking his head as he moves on. "But it comes from Italy. The Romans used it for medicinal and spiritual reasons. Same with ruta. I thought crushing it and putting it in the ea! r was just a Mexican remedy for earaches that my mother knew, but the Romans used it too."

A love and understanding of plants are in Naranjo's blood.Trees seem able to talk to him, to tell him if they're lacking a certain mineral, or which of their branches should be pruned. But his deep knowledge of specific flora — those that grow, and have grown for thousands of years, in the Mediterranean — was learned at the Getty, talking and reading about plants.

Trips to the Mediterranean with Getty Museum principals to visit ancient Roman ruins, museums and gardens were part of the job.

"One of my best memories," he says, looking out from the main garden to the ocean beyond, "was when I went hiking in the hillsides around Mt. Vesuvius to see how the native plants grow there. It was awesome. We took pictures of the flowers and cataloged them."

Now, as neighbors above the villa complain about their view of the site — additional buildings, new drivewa! ys, amphitheater and all — it's Naranjo's job to "come up with some plants to put up there to block it," he says gesturing to the hillside dotted with olive trees, Italian stone pines, sycamores and Arbutus unedo, strawberry tree.

Change is inevitable when a small operation grows to become one of the richest cultural institutions in the world. "Since the Getty Center was built," Naranjo says of the Brentwood landmark, "it's all become very corporate."

Naranjo's most challenging times were when he was interjected between a feud between  artist Robert Irwin and architect Richard Meier in 1994, as building of the Getty Center was getting underway, Irwin who was in charge of the lower gardens, and had never done a garden relied heavily on Naranjo,

Meier, on the other hand, who was designing the rest of the Getty Center gardens, was always critical of my gardening techniques, Naranjo says, laughing. "He'd tell management, 'I think ! he's butchering these trees.' But I was cutting them back, training them for structure. And Richard [Meier] didn't understand the idea that some plants are deciduous. He thought they were dying."

Years later, Meier saw Naranjo and grabbed him. "He gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. I was really surprised," Naranjo says. "He said, 'This place is beautiful. These trees are beautiful. That's just what I had in mind!' "

"He did a phenomenal job in terms of the project," Meier says. "His dedication and involvement were absolutely wonderful. We did have slight disagreements on the spacing of the trees," he admits, before adding, "they've grown in nicely."
 
 
 

Christy Hobart can be reached at home@latimes.com.

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