The power of the perfect lawn

A lawn can feel like a little oasis, our very own patch of nature. But throughout history, lawns have been powerful symbols of orderliness — and wealth. 
When France’s King Louis XIV — also known as the Sun King — moved to Versailles in 1661, he commissioned a famous French landscape architect, Andre Le Notre, to design the gardens at Versailles palace.
Le Notre understood that the gardens, which included meticulous lawns, were political: They were a way for the king to communicate that all was in order and under control.
The planner notably created a “tapis vert,” literally a “green carpet” that linked the palace and the gardens.
The lawn was not for walking on, or picnicking on, or for grazing animals — as grassy meadows had been in medieval times. Now it was purely ornamental, a status symbol, a symbol of power and conquest.
“If you look closely at the grass” in a classic meadow, said Ian Thompson, a retired landscape architect who taught at Newcastle University in the UK, “there’s all kinds of other plants in there … you would find things like daisies and violets and clover and strawberries in there, for example.”
But the lawns of Versailles are a pure grass that has conquered these flowers and weeds. These pristine stretches of grass show a command of nature, of a wilderness that can be hostile and dangerous. 
In 17th-century Europe, ideas about humans’ relationship with nature were changing. French philosopher Rene Descartes argued that nature, as represented by the body, is chaotic and is separate from the mind, from the higher reason of man.
The lawn was therefore a symbol of the rational mind colonizing the irrational body. The idea has endured for centuries.
Louis’ lawn was adapted in part across the English Channel. The 18th-century English aristocracy liked to incorporate meadows and thickets of trees into their more “natural” gardens — even if still highly stylized and mowed. 
This curated country landscape was in turn appropriated by the French Queen Marie Antoinette, who wanted to create a mini English garden at her palace.
So, too, in America, the English garden — as opposed to the king — ruled.
President George Washington ordered the creation of a bowling green and deer park at his vast residence and slave plantation at Mount Vernon. He is said to have imported English grass seed for the job.
Thomas Jefferson, the third US president and author of the Declaration of Independence, also cultivated a grass area called “the lawn” at his home.
A couple of decades later, home turf was all the rage, with the first horse-drawn lawnmower patented in 1830. 
Initially restricted to the backyard, these stretches of well-maintained lawn were soon proudly displayed in front of US homes. 
Like the earlier gardens of the French royals and English gentry, by the 20th century the American front yard became a kind of exhibition space, a symbol of one’s mastery of nature.
But it had to remain uncluttered and pristine.
“It’s basically a piece of grass with nothing on it,” said Jenny Price, a writer and environmental historian, of the American lawn. “This is a very class-oriented thing, generally [people] do not approve of putting anything in your front yard. No chairs, no lawn ornaments, no anything.”
She added that the controlled lawn demands a lot of irrigation and pesticides. But in an age of climate change and water scarcity, lawns are again giving way to trees and diverse species.
“We are going back toward the flowery meadow,” said Ian Thompson. “And actually the suburban garden is one of the places which, you know, can be a sanctuary for wildlife. I think this is all to be encouraged, really.”
This article was adapted from an episode of the DW podcast, “Don’t drink the milk: The curious history of things,” by Charli Shield and Rachel Stewart, edited by Sam Baker.