Each volume of Golf Architecture: A Worldwide Perspective aims to present a wide range of architectural opinions spanning many topics. Canadian architect Geoffrey Cornish, a past president of the American Society of Golf Course Architects (ASGCA), made a pertinent observation: ‘After forty years, I have come to the conclusion that each golf architect thinks that their way of doing things is the best way!’ The opinions expressed within this collection will do nothing to alter that impression.
While architects have reported depressed and saturated markets in some regions, new frontiers such as Mauritius, Eastern Europe, and China continue to open up and make great strides. China in particular represents a state of affairs that could have scarcely been entertained by the people in Chairman Mao’s Little Red Book.
The golf architecture industry remains vibrant in Australia, and New Zealand’s star is on the rise. The amount of Australian projects to have materialised during the last decade, or tabled for upcoming construction, has brought about a sense of ‘just when will the bubble burst?’ In fact it has passed the stage of speculation such that within the next ten years, a reconnaissance of the Mornington Peninsula in Victoria, Australia will reveal an astonishing sight: golf courses, one after another, punctuated by housing and wineries. It is already a sight to behold.
It is a pleasure to draw attention to the insightful essays written about four esteemed architects of yesteryear: A.W. Tillinghast; C. H. Alison; Harry S. Colt; and Seth Raynor—by Rick Wolffe and Stephen Goodwin, Tom MacWood, Brian Phillips and George Bahto, respectively. Indeed, a measure of the respect paid to golf course architects is the growing list of bodies that honour them. Scotland’s Royal Dornoch was for the longest time viewed as the end of the northern trail for golf tourists, yet twenty minutes further north is the fine links of Brora Golf Club, designed by the five times Open champion James Braid, and home to the Society that bears his name. In North America, the William Flynn Society, Mackenzie Society, Friends of Seth Raynor, Donald Ross Society, Tillinghast Association, Stanley Thompson Society, and Walter J. Travis Society, continue to flourish with expanding memberships. To further demonstrate the interest and usefulness of such initiatives, preliminary discussions are underway to establish a society dedicated to Perry Maxwell. Twenty years ago, barely any of these bodies existed.
Other writers have commented on specific courses, regions or countries. The three R’s—restoration, renovation and remodelling—receive much airplay throughout this volume, and there is a healthy amount of specialist subject matter by the writers.
Underpinning the majority of writing, however, is a sense of the overwhelming impact of recent advances in equipment technology, and how it directly affects golf architecture and its practitioners. While the effects of technology simmers below the surface of many of the essays, architect Tony Ristola has made it the focus of ‘The Test of Time’, elucidating the extent of the issue. Historically, influences outside the control of course designers have impacted heavily on their work: the arrival of the rubber-core ‘Haskell’ ball around the turn of the twentieth century caused a rash of new course upgrades; the introduction of steel shafts in the mid-1930s marked another landmark event necessitating much remedial course work; and following an extended period of relatively minor ball improvements, architects were forced to factor in the effects of aluminium, graphite and titanium-shafted clubs to their designs.
Additionally over the last ten to fifteen years, there has been another non-design issue for architects to grapple with. Once, professionals and low-handicap amateur golfers faced a perplexing decision—to opt for a golf ball that flew long distances, but was devoid of feel and spin characteristics, or sacrifice valuable distance and select a ball with an enhanced feel. Well, choosing between a ‘rock’ and a ‘marshmallow’ has become a non-event: the market is now flooded with golf balls that accomplish both ideals. To what degree this has influenced the design and placement of hazards guarding greens, perhaps prompting unconscious fortification by architects, is unclear. Interestingly, though, one of the most significant technological advances—gutta percha balls superseding featherie balls—had no effect on the industry in 1848 for the simple reason that no industry existed.
While the distance-producing ‘spring-like’ effects of drivers continue to be widely reported, including snippets of information concerning the ruling bodies’ management of the co-efficient of restitution (COR) determinations, too little attention is being paid to the golf ball. In too few circles does one hear references to a ‘tournament’ ball, yet the logic behind adopting such an initiative is compelling: tournament courses would be less likely to appear second-rate under the might of the tour heavyweights, and many would be spared from post-tournament overhauls. Some critics argue that whatever happens on the professional tours is of no consequence to everyday amateur golf, or the management and maintenance of our golf courses. That is false. It is just plain impossible not to be swayed by what happens on tour, the influence and force is irresistible. Worse, outcomes of professional events shift the emphasis away from the all-important minor works required by nearly all courses as a function of their ageing. While it is only natural to admire the deeds of Ernie Els following his scoring binges of twenty-nine and thirty-one under par at early 2003 tournaments, invariably there is fallout followed by arguments presented for the need of costly course changes. But why should club golfers be left to pay for the changes through club levies? It is no coincidence that many of the world’s greatest courses remain off-limits to the various tours for fear of the costly aftermath. In short: a tournament ball would solve a lot of problems.
Golf, like everything else, has ready access to computer technology. Reflecting a contemporary approach to golf course architecture, Josh Taylor and Chris Brands have co-authored an essay that investigates the role of Computer Aided Design, and in the process debunks some misbeliefs about its usage and long-term viability.
The budgets to build golf courses are now alarmingly high, a far cry from the fee of four pounds that lured Old Tom Morris to Royal County Down in the late 1890s. Of course, that was in the era prior to earth-moving equipment, which in part explains the prevalence of ‘blind’ shots encountered over many of the ancient rabbit warrens of Britain. Nostalgia runs wild, but pleasingly, an increased tolerance for the occasional blind shot has been noted of late. As the famous saying goes: ‘Ah! But it’s only blind once.’
In some regions of the world, the conventional method of building golf courses appears light years away. Ronald Fream, a US architect who works in both recognised golfing regions and far-flung outposts, has presented a marvellous collage of photographs, which would only rarely appear in an architecture journal or magazine. These images pay homage to the labour-intensive construction methods employed in countries not usually associated with golf nor viewed as wealthy economies. Fream’s images help to present a worldwide perspective on the industry.
Meanwhile in the developed golfing countries, the state of play does bring about one wicked pressure: the average new course built is of an appreciably higher standard than only fifteen years ago. The architectural bar has been raised, along with player expectation. Naturally, this costs a great deal of money. Equally over this period, much helpful agronomic and turfgrass knowledge has been applied to aid the design, construction, and maintenance of courses. Clearly, the dual industries of turfgrass technology and golf course architecture will be working closer together in the future. Recognition of this future is outlined in the essay by Australian David Goldie, a Thirteenth Beach Golf Links ‘turfie’ who shares his experiences of working at the Old Course, St. Andrews, and Harbour Town, USA—two courses at opposite ends of the maintenance spectrum.
Granted, golf courses are more expensive to build and maintain today, but golf clubs must be vigilant not to shoot themselves in the foot with arrogant pricing policies. Golfers have long memories when it comes to their hip pockets, and they’ll vote with their feet. A case in point was one high-profile Australian public course whose management was so confident it was delivering the ultimate golfing experience, that it tripled the green-fee virtually overnight. Rank and file members were disgusted, and a once thriving golfing centre became bereft of golfers. After acknowledging the error of the fee hike, its traffic of regulars has now returned. As a rule, architects, clubs and developers are progressively being mindful of the importance that courses need to be playable, affordable and enjoyable. Once these fundamentals have been achieved, any course boasting the additional features of ‘challenging’ and ‘inspiring’, will surely attract golfers of all playing abilities to lose themselves in the experience. And they’ll come back time and again.