In his initial post, Sean wrote:
"The 170ish par 3 5th is another lovely hole with what should be a world famous bunker to carry. In the old days this must have been a daunting tee shot. I think this pic and the previous one demonstrate what I mean about greens flowing into fairways creating false fronts and making it difficult to distinguish yardage."
I have read Colt's explanations of creating plateau greens and "hummocky" ground. The purpose was to challenge the "artist in approach." From my reading, Colt used the features to present a physical test, a test of touch, such as negotiating a ball over rolling ground to its final position very near the pin -- not as a deception!
Also, he writes of seeing better players challenged by such plateaus on links courses.
I can't recall mention of depth perception or visual trickery / deception.
Perhaps Paul can supply us with further information.
The reason I find the thought expressed in the sentence so interesting is that's how many of us would think of it, but at least in 1912 Colt didn't think of it that way. Would club golfers?
Today two relevant things have changed:
1. Equipment defeating Colt's intent of challenging the "artist in approach" -- just fling it right onto the green -- must figure depth perception right, whereas with ground game the challenge perceived is more of, "How hard do I have to hit it to get it up that hill?" And / or....
2. How golfers perceive design elements -- more likely to see intent of visual deception. Perhaps it's just a function of change #1, but there's a larger idea here of designers designing not simply for the physical or even "mental" challenges but also for the emotional challenges, the notion of including an element for purposes of deception, joy, surprise, etc. Standing with club in hand and not being sure where the ball needs to go, despite having the flag and green in full view -- that's deflating, isn't it?
(I suppose there is a "physical" challenge here: how good one's eyesight is. But that's not what I meant by the word...)
This is something I tend to associate with MacKenzie, this idea of creating a course, a hole, a bunker, a feature, not only using an understanding of how the golfer will play / avoid / conquer it, but also how the golfer subjectively will see it (versus how it really is) and how it will affect him. For example: bunkers that look bigger than they really are, to give the golfer who negotiates it the feeling of satisfaction, of achievement -- as Mac writes, "to give the player thrills."
Or in this case the mental and emotional affect of a plateau green.
Mark
Well said by Mark many, many moons ago. We talk a lot about the strategy or lack of strategy on a hole, but isn't there another dimension we talk about much less often? We don't talk much about how sometimes good holes can be mysterious and unpredictable. Or as Mark says, holes that are "emotional challenges, [that have an element]... of deception, joy, surprise, etc. Standing with club in hand and not being sure where the ball needs to go, despite having the flag and green in full view -- that's deflating, isn't it? "
I'm not sure such holes are "deflating" as much as litmus tests. Some people will find a hole with hard to predict outcomes to be maddening and enough alone to dismiss it as a a bungled design. Others will find such holes fascinating and, if done well, the mark of good design. I suspect that dynamic hasn't changed much since Colt and Simpson worked on Sunnie about a century ago.
Some of the holes there still evoke for us moderns that "other" design dimension, as Mark noted. Avoiding the discomfort (anxiety?) they instill is maybe why so many modern designers stick so closely to the tried and true rules of strategic golf architecture. They want each hole to tell a clear, coherent story. (I mean, you gotta say something about the hole in the sales brochure. Right?)
Surely part of the greatness of Colt, Simpson and MacK, however, is that they had the courage to step outside that framework from time to time and go to a different place.
Bob