Continued...
All of which brings us back to Mr. Charles Blair Macdonald.
It is both interesting and amusing to ponder how that cantankerous old gent might view such copycat facilities, for his groundbreaking brand of replica work was strictly about stylistic adaptation. This creative interpretation of classic holes was, in fact, common among the game’s legendary designers, from A.W. Tillinghast’s Redan at Somerset Hills, to Devereux Emmet’s frequent repetition of various personal favorites. Indeed even that apple of the modern imitator’s eye, Augusta National, was itself somewhat an adaptation, offering several holes whose strategic features were lifted proudly by Dr. MacKenzie from classic British originals.
But Macdonald and his protégées, Raynor and Banks, were surely the champions of this creatively imitative approach, leading a field which frequently blended time-proven templates and strategies into the unique contours of the local terrain.
Architect Brian Silva recently revived this methodology at the Black Creek Golf Club near Chattanooga, Tennessee, a visually striking layout which echoes both the Macdonald/Raynor aesthetic and their essential design philosophy.
“Only four holes – the Redan, Biarritz, Short and Punchbowl – are direct lifts from Macdonald and Raynor,” Silva explains. “The others are all original in strategy and character, but detailed on the ground in the Macdonald/Raynor style.”
The result is perhaps the finest form of modern replica work, a layout which likely brings the golfer far closer to the Macdonald/Raynor experience than a theme course brings one to Augusta or St. Andrews. “Reproducing the feel of the land, the climate and other factors is tough,” Silva notes. But clearly, when duplicating style rather then exact specs, a capable architect can achieve a great deal.
Another such designer is George Bahto, Macdonald and Raynor’s biographer and restorer of their courses up and down the East Coast. In 2001, Bahto completed his first original project, the Stonebridge Golf Links in Hauppauge, New York, a 6,245-yard layout featuring both pure replicas and a number of original holes intended to capture the Seth Raynor flavor.
“My goal was to honor Raynor’s architecture,” says Bahto, “not to put my own footprint on things. I believe that Stonebridge offers the public-course player an opportunity to experience the design philosophies of Macdonald and Raynor that he might not otherwise get, especially around the greens which are modeled after some of my favorite Raynor originals.”
And on this last point in particular, Stonebridge certainly seems to have succeeded, even with purists.
“If George wasn’t creating those greens as a tribute to Raynor,” observes noted writer/historian Geoff Shackelford, “golfers might think the architect was nuts. But he was remaining faithful to the old style and, as Raynor did, he was able to subtly inject some of his own ideas to make play more interesting.”
Perhaps the most novel undertaking of this type is even more recent, at McCullough’s Emerald Golf Links near Atlantic City, New Jersey. There, on a former landfill, New York-based architect Stephen Kay created a 6,535-yard layout featuring holes modeled primarily after classic British and Irish originals. Like Silva and Bahto, Kay’s versions are intended less as exact copies than creative replicas, though fans of the Open Championship may recognize such mainstays as the Postage Stamp at Troon, the 10th at Turnberry and the Long 14th at St. Andrews. Interestingly, many more of Kay’s holes are based on less-famous originals from places like Royal Portrush, Nairn, Prestwick and Gleneagles.
But for the true fan of Golden Age design, all of this pales in comparison to the course’s centerpiece: a replica of the 18th hole at C.B. Macdonald’s long-lost Lido Golf Club, in Lido Beach, New York. This epic original was itself based upon Dr. Alister MacKenzie’s drawing of an optimum par four which won a 1914 design contest sponsored by the British magazine Country Life. Providing three distinct lines of play with starkly varied degrees of danger, MacKenzie’s plan was somewhat altered by Macdonald to fit the Lido’s narrow site. At the Emerald Golf Links, however, Kay enjoyed a wide enough corridor of play to copy the full magnitude of the original, with the result being a hole stretching a staggering 160 yards in width!
But is it truly a faithful replica?
“We tried our best,” says Kay, “but we only had MacKenzie’s drawing to work with. We measured and scaled everything, including the size and shape of the green. The only difference was the steepness of the contouring. MacKenzie’s four- and five-foot contours would be too severe for modern green speeds.”
An additional difference is the defense of an island section of fairway. In MacKenzie’s drawing, it was surrounded by beach (his ideal hole naturally being a seaside affair), a hazard for which Macdonald substituted thick rough and reeds. At the Emerald Golf Links, Kay approximated the beach by constructing a three-acre waste bunker— and therein lies the crux of the issue: If a replica cannot match the precise playing characteristics of its chosen original, will the golfer find it disappointing? If it is framed against an industrial park instead of the Pacific Ocean, or routed across the Nevada desert instead of Scottish coastline, is the experience substantially diminished?
Speaking strictly in terms of dollars and cents, we can answer this with a cautious no. For replica courses of both the copycat and adaptive variety have succeeded in generating both significant attention and a steady clientele, and their ranks are proliferating— though hardly at an eye-popping rate.
Aesthetically, the criteria are different. Given the acknowledged difficulty of reproducing the unique characteristics of the chosen original, we can perhaps liken copycat or theme layouts to the lithographs of famous artworks one so often encounters; a thoughtful interaction may convey some sense of the real thing, but the overall experience is seldom likely to be confused with it.
Stylistic adaptations, on the other hand, would appear to fare better. For the best of such works manage to convey – with a little imagination, anyway – the sense of playing an additional design by a legendary architect, not some almost-accurate modern facsimile. But what of designers less regimented than Macdonald and Raynor, whose styles are tougher even to identify, much less convincingly duplicate?
Thus at the end of the day, the copycat variety may well enjoy a brighter future, for the concept can be repeated ad infinitum and seems to fill a legitimate niche. One might wonder at what point the novelty of attacking Pebble Beach in suburban Houston begins to wear off, but as architect Silva observes: “Most golfers can’t play at Augusta National. Straight replica courses provide an alternative experience, and there’s probably some real value in that.”
SIDEBAR
Stephen Kay might well be forgiven if his replica of the Lido’s 18th doesn’t precisely match C.B. Macdonald’s original, for Kay was working without benefit of a photograph. But recently, golf historian Craig Disher discovered perhaps the only surviving aerial of the Lido, dated 1942.
As the highlighted section indicates, Kay’s work was pretty well on the mark.