Clara: Julian, I saw the garden you designed for the hotel. It’s remarkably bold.
Julian: Thank you. I was hoping someone would notice the restraint.
Clara: Restraint? Those purple shrubs are visible from the car park.
Julian: Exactly. A garden should make an entrance. Yours, I noticed, makes a very quiet exit.
Clara: The client asked for something peaceful. I’m pleased you recognised the effect.
Julian: Naturally. The lawn is so uninterrupted that one almost expects a landing aircraft. Very restful.
Clara: And your flower beds are certainly memorable. I imagine the guests will remember them long after they’ve forgotten the hotel.
Julian: That’s the advantage of strong design. It leaves an impression.
Clara: Sometimes an impression is all that remains.
Julian: You’ve always had a gift for making absence sound intentional.
Clara: And you have a gift for making excess sound courageous.
Julian: I suppose we simply serve different clients. Some want a garden to be noticed; others want it to be lived in.
Clara: Quite. Though I did hear the hotel has asked you to remove half the shrubs.
Julian: A temporary adjustment. The manager felt the entrance was becoming difficult to find.
Clara: How unfortunate. You’d designed such a memorable entrance.
Julian: I’m sure your next project will be equally memorable, in its own very discreet way.
Clara: I hope so. The client has specifically requested somewhere people can sit.
Julian: A chair can be a powerful design statement.
Clara: Especially when the garden leaves room for one.
Fiction note: Clara, Julian, their clients, the hotel, and all events in this dialogue are fictional.