To capture the essence of a garden demands both a keen eye and a subtle sensibility, the hallmark qualities of Sam Abell's acclaimed photography. Not for nothing is this volume entitled "Seeing Gardens," for its landmark images have as much to tell us about "how" we see as "what" we see. To Abell, a scatter of pears ripening on a Moscow windowsill evokes an orchard just as surely as his portrait of a 600-year-old Japanese garden summons up an ancient tradition of artfully cultivated wildness. Each pebble, pond and twisted pine in that garden is carefully placed to create an idea of unstudied nature as resonant as reality itself.

As befits a book that melds two visual arts, "Seeing Gardens" lets its 150 pictures speak for themselves with a spare text that offers context rather than commentary. The book is at once thoughtful and elegant, and the anecdotes, recollections and aesthetic philosophy amount to a brief but telling memoir of Abell's three decades of interpreting gardens. His photographs include planned gardens in a variety of cultural settings; found gardens, created by nature but given form by the artist's frame; and the many allusions to gardens in daily life. Whether in the pruned symmetry of a line of plane trees along Lake Como's shores, the pristine shape of a wild water lily in the blackwater mirror of the Okeefenokee Swamp, or the leafy print of a vivid floral fabric, Abell discovers gardens everywhere. The gift of this book is the gift of seeing gardens in a new, intimate andinvolving way.

Amazon.com Review
In his 1990 book Stay This Moment, National Geographic photographer Sam Abell wrote, "There are few fresh photographs of gardens because photographing beautiful things is difficult." Now, almost as if in answer to himself, Abell has produced Seeing Gardens, with 150 quiet, intensely gorgeous full-frame images from around the globe that stand as a testament to his ability to do exactly that: photograph beautiful things in a fresh and inventive way. In his simple, elegant text, Abell provides insights into how he came to take many of his better known images, such as National Hotel, Moscow, Russia, which features a handful of pears resting on a windowsill with the Kremlin in the background. Perhaps never before have Abell's sumptuous photographs been placed in a more apt context--that of the garden, both in a literal sense, like his stunning images of temple gardens in Japan, and in a figurative sense, including his shot of a blue neon sign that simply says "FLOWERS." --Walt Opie