“The garden is the smallest parcel of the world and then it is the totality of the world.” In his writings on heterotopias, or worlds within worlds, Michel Foucault alludes to the idea of the garden as a microcosm of the world. In doing so, he draws on the longstanding tradition of the garden as an art form that seeks to echo the relationship between humanity and nature. Gardens have changed constantly throughout the ages, in each case reflecting the world and the environment in which they existed. But a garden is more than just an exercise in intellectual symbolism: it has always been a practical, useful space, too.

So what does a contemporary garden look like, and what does it say about the modern-day challenges of climate change and biodiversity loss? Jardin sur l’eau takes a fresh approach to this question: the garden is closed off to humans and becomes an island for waterfowl to breed. It is neither a biotope nor a protected area. Here, the garden is unconstrained by rules. It is a place of pleasure and desire. From a human perspective, the garden is a symbolic statement; from a non-human perspective, the garden is a practical, useful, protected space for biodiversity to thrive on Lake Geneva’s shore.