Separating the Artist from the Architect

By Jeff Mingay

It’s become fashionable for contemporary golf architects to praise their famous predecessors, and to claim their own courses are inspired by the classic designs of yesteryear. Almost every golf course designer in the business today, with the notable exception of Tom Fazio, professes to be a disciple of MacKenzie, Ross, Tillinghast, Thompson, et. al.

Yet, ironically, very few modern courses exhibit the drama and creative genius of Cypress Point, Seminole, Winged Foot and Jasper. Golfweek magazine’s most recent ranking of “America’s Best” courses tells why. Of the top-10 layouts on Golfweek’s list of the 100 Best Classical (pre-1960) layouts in America, at least six were designed and constructed by men continuously on-site throughout construction: George Crump at Pine Valley (#1), Alister MacKenzie and Robert Hunter at Cypress Point (#2), MacKenzie and Perry Maxwell at Crystal Downs (#6), Hugh Wilson and William Flynn at Merion (#7), Donald Ross at Pinehurst (#8), and Henry and William Fownes at Oakmont (#9).

Just outside the top-10, in eleventh place, is the National Golf Links of America, which was carefully crafted over a period of some years, beginning in 1911, with the perpetual on-site presence of pioneer golf architect Charles Blair Macdonald and his trusted associate, Seth Raynor.

Similarly, at least eight of the top-10 on Golfweek’s list of the “America’s Best” Modern courses (those built after 1960) were developed by a group of contemporary architects notorious for spending an extraordinary amount of time on-site, fine-tuning the details of their designs. Those courses include Sand Hills (#1) and Cuscowilla (#10) by Bill Coore and Ben Crenshaw, Tom Doak’s Pacific Dunes (#2) and its neighbour, Bandon Dunes (#4), laid-out by Scotsman David Kidd, along with four Pete Dye layouts, led by Whistling Straits in the #3 spot.

Detailed fieldwork, or a lack thereof, ultimately determines the overall quality of a golf course.

The most important aspect of golf course design is the routing of holes. By spending more time on-site, the architect is presumably able to acquire a more intimate knowledge of the property than otherwise and, in turn, make the best use of natural features. If so many contemporary golf course designers were truly inspired by MacKenzie’s or Stanley Thompson’s uncanny ability to use native landscapes to great effect, we would undoubtedly have at least a few more modern layouts featuring back-to-back par 3s, consecutive par 5s or short par 4s (a la Highlands Links, Cypress Point and Pacific Dunes).

The inherent characteristics of most properties with decent topographical interest rarely provides for the type of formulated routings so often used these days. To consistently attain 7,000 total yards (or thereabouts) and a total par of 72, anywhere and everywhere, preconceived ideas have to be forced onto properties which undoubtedly suggest alternate, more natural sequences for golf holes.

More time on-site also allows the architect to continually study the design, and provides countless opportunities to make revisions to angles of play, putting contours, green surrounds, hazard positions and bunker styling, which inevitably results in a more interesting golf course. The character and diversity of the aforementioned features separates the best golf courses from the rest, and the artist from the architect.

Rod Whitman, who learned his ultra-hands-on approach to golf course design and construction from Pete Dye and Bill Coore, once told me, “It’s the guys with dirt under their nails who will never build the worst courses and have a better chance to build the best.” Whitman realizes the creation of subtle contour, nuances, and the desired aesthetic effect requires the personal touch of the artist. In 2001, he spent more than 150 days on-site throughout the development of Blackhawk Golf Club in suburban Edmonton, Alberta, continuously reflecting on his plan and making daily revisions, while observing construction and personally riding bulldozers. This spring and early summer at Blackhawk (2002), smaller equipment, including old-fashion rakes and shovels, will be used to caringly finish the putting surfaces and style the bunkers.

Whitman’s type of unwavering commitment to individual projects limits a golf architect’s potential workload and earning power, and also keeps one away from family and the comforts of home more than wanted. Nonetheless, designing in the field, providing that personal touch, is the only way to build golf courses to compare to the world’s best.

Appears in the June 2002 issue of GreenMaster magazine