
Reminiscent of New York’s Central Park and so many classic Olmsted parks, Laurelhurst Park follows the Olmsted firm’s naturalistic design principles, with curving paths and unfolding views. Many consider the park to be a perfect example of the City Beautiful movement. In 1919, the park was named the most beautiful park on the West Coast by the Pacific Coast Parks Association. Thanks to the efforts of the Portland Historical Landmarks Commission, in February 2001, Laurelhurst Park was named to the National Register of Historic Places.
In The Landscape Architect’s Guide to Portland, Oregon, Jeff Schnabel of the American Society of Landscape Architect describes the history of Laurelhurst Park.
“Laurelhurst Park was acquired in 1909 from the estate of twice-elected Portland Mayor William S. Ladd. In 1911, acting on recommendations in the Olmsted Plan, the city bought 30 acres of Ladd’s 486-acre Hazel Fern Farm, including the pond. In 1912, Emanuel Mische, Portland’s park superintendent from 1908 to 1914, designed the park based on his experience as the longtime horticultural expert for the Olmsted Brothers landscape architecture firm. Inspired by the Olmstedian ‘natural’ landscape approach, his plan included several distinct sections: Concert Grove, Firwood Lake, Children’s Lawn, Plateau and Broad Meadows, Picnic Grove, and Rhododendron Hill.”
Imagine this: a glorious sun dappled afternoon, an expansive stretch of green with clusters of people here and there— individuals quietly sitting in reverie or absorbed in their summer novel, loving couples doing what loving couples do, small family groups, food and beverage in hand, toddlers and dogs at play. The soft cacophony of voices, some tender, others shouting in joy. Down the winding path, under a grove of towering trees, a mix of evergreens, Douglas fir and sequoia, and huge sycamores, a choral group gathers, some warming up their voices. Crows, robins, wrens and sparrows join in with their animal chorus, fly from tree to tree and settle on the ground, searching for seeds, worms and crumbs left by the human visitors. There are the ever-present squirrels, already collecting stashes in this time of change as late summer verges on early fall. I catch sight of a gorgeous Northern flicker taking flight from a low hanging limb as I climb uphill. Then I espy a hummingbird hovering above the valley below, then another. I become aware of an aerial dance of multiple hummingbirds. I know that males defend their space and combat can ensue. This mini spectacle appeared to be a choreographed peaceful affair… visible for but a few brief moments. Though there were any number of park visitors around, I had the impression I was the only one privileged to view the aerial dance of these charming busybodies.
In another corner of the park, visitors sit on the occasional benches placed around a pond, aerated to prevent algal blooms. In the middle of the pond is a small partially wild landscaped island. Today, the pond gathers the usual suspects of waterfowl— mallards and their kin. Some expecting handouts, even though there are signs asking visitors not to feed the birds. There is a large group gathered at rows of picnic tables nearby. Many of those assembled are wearing name badges. Some sort of company picnic, or maybe a reunion of sorts and so many have not seen one another for such a long time, thus necessitating the name badges? I didn’t inquire. On top the low-lying ridge nearby I hear distant dull clanging sounds of metal against metal, and I marvel at the fact that some are still using the archaic horseshoe pits up there. How cool is it, I say to myself, that playing horseshoes has come back into fashion. Though it doesn’t surprise me, as so many sentimental games from times of yore have become popular again.
At this moment I wish I were hovering, like those hummingbirds I encountered, or perhaps more like the dragonflies over the pond weeds. I want to take it all in from treetop level, or lower, at about 100 feet. To soar and hover, to joyfully dance and hum my way across this landscape. I see pastoral green expanses where visitors congregate and flit in and out, from brilliant sunlight to deep shade and places in between. I see picturesque, winding paths, where some humans seek solitude, and I dance around and over an irregular body of water. I climb up, up, upward to the treetops and see birds and insects unseen from eyes of humans and dogs down below.
This was once a dairy farm where cattle roamed at the edge of a newly built and expanding city. Yet, humans intervened, bought and protected this space. Then other brilliant humans designed and sculpted this landscape. To protect it, to preserve it and to transform it into this beautiful park that has been enjoyed by thousands, probably hundreds of thousands of my fellow humankind. I humbly offer my praise and deep gratitude to members of the Olmsted family—Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr. for his bold vision, his ability to read the land and his sense of deep time, and his artistry that he then conveyed to his stepson John Charles Olmsted, who brought that same vision to the Pacific Northwest, including my home city of Portland. The same vision and artistry that the father had offered to Manhattan, Brooklyn, Boston and Buffalo and so many other places. I also offer my thanks to Olmsted acolyte and Portland Park superintendent Emanuel T. Mische, who so ably carried out the Olmsted vision and designed this beautiful park, Laurelhurst Park, a park that has stood the test of time and then some. I give thanks for this picture-perfect park on this fine late summer afternoon. I count myself lucky to live nearby.
As a landscape historian, Laurence Cotton is active with the Olmsted Network. As a biographer of Frederick Law Olmsted, Mr. Cotton frequently travels across the U.S. and Canada, presenting his PBS film Frederick Law Olmsted: Designing America and delivering a talk about the Olmsted legacy– father, two sons, and Olmsted Brothers landscape architecture firm– across North America. 2022 saw the release of a new film Stewart Udall: The Politics of Beauty. In addition to filmmaking and public speaking, Laurence Cotton also serves as a historical lecturer on board small ship cruise vessels that ply the rivers, lakes, and coastlines of North America, delivering talks on regional history and natural history. Though originally from Boston, Laurence has resided in Portland for 30 years and has developed a passion for interpreting the legacy of John Charles Olmsted in the Pacific Northwest.