Chinese Garden Design History • Suzhou Gardens Moon Gate | Chinese Landscape

Chinese Gardens: History, Design, and Meaning

Chinese gardens have been shaped and refined for more than three thousand years. Some were sprawling imperial parks built by emperors to show power and wealth. Others were private spaces created by poets, scholars, retired officials, soldiers, and merchants who wanted a quiet retreat away from the noise of daily life. Every garden was designed as a small, ideal world, a place where nature and people could exist in complete balance.

These gardens bring together many forms of Chinese art. Architecture, calligraphy, painting, sculpture, literature, and plant design all play a role. They are considered a reflection of Chinese aesthetics and philosophy, expressing deep ideas about life, beauty, and harmony. Famous examples include the Chengde Mountain Resort and the Summer Palace, both royal gardens, as well as the Classical Gardens of Suzhou in Jiangsu Province. All are recognized as UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Traditional features often appear in these gardens, and one of the most well-known is the moon gate, a circular opening that frames views like a living picture.

Most Chinese gardens are surrounded by walls, creating a peaceful, enclosed space. Inside, you will usually find ponds, rock formations, flowering plants, and trees. There are also halls, pavilions, and covered walkways. Paths often twist and turn, and corridors bend in zigzag patterns, guiding visitors from one scene to another. Every angle is planned so that each step reveals a new, carefully arranged view, much like turning the pages of a painted scroll.

History of Chinese Gardens

The first known Chinese gardens appeared in the Yellow River valley during the Shang dynasty, from 1600 to 1046 BCE. These early gardens were large, enclosed spaces used by rulers and nobles for hunting game or growing fruits and vegetables. Writings from the time, carved into tortoise shells, show three different characters for the word “garden”: you, pu, and yuan. You referred to a royal garden that kept animals and birds. Pu meant a garden for plants. By the Qin dynasty, from 221 to 206 BCE, yuan became the general word for all gardens. The older form of the character depicted a walled enclosure containing a building, a pond, and a planted tree or orchard.

One of the most notable gardens from the late Shang dynasty was the Terrace, Pond, and Park of the Spirit, built by King Wenwang west of his capital at Yin. It is described in the Classic of Poetry, which tells of the king walking through the park as deer grazed and cranes with white feathers stood near the pond, which was full of wriggling fish.

Another early royal garden was Shaqui, or the Dunes of Sand, built by the last Shang ruler, King Zhou, who reigned from 1075 to 1046 BCE. It featured an earthen terrace used as a viewing platform in the middle of a vast square park. Historical accounts in the Records of the Grand Historian describe its most infamous feature: the Wine Pool and Meat Forest. A large pool lined with polished sea stones was filled entirely with wine. In the center stood a small island with trees whose branches held skewers of roasted meat. King Zhou and his guests would float around the pool in small boats, drinking the wine by hand and eating meat from the branches. Later Chinese historians and philosophers often pointed to this garden as a symbol of excess and poor judgment.

Origins and Early History of Chinese Gardens

In 535 BCE, during the Spring and Autumn period, King Jing of the Zhou dynasty built the Terrace of Shanghua, a complex of richly decorated palaces. A few decades later, in 505 BCE, construction began on the Terrace of Gusu. This garden was built into a mountainside, with layers of terraces connected by covered walkways. A lake at its base held dragon-shaped boats, and from the top terrace, visitors could see all the way to Lake Tai.

Early Chinese garden design was shaped by legend. One story from the 4th century BCE, recorded in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, told of Mount Penglai, a sacred peak on one of three islands at the eastern end of the Bohai Sea. These islands were said to be home to the Eight Immortals. The land was free from pain and winter, trees bore jewels, and fruit granted eternal life. Food and wine never ran out, and the palaces were made of gold and silver.

When Ying Zheng unified China in 221 BCE and became the First Emperor of the Qin dynasty, he sent expeditions to find the islands and bring back the elixir of immortality. They failed, but he recreated the vision in his own palace garden near Xianyang. There, a large lake called the Lake of the Orchids held an island modeled after Mount Penglai. After his death in 210 BCE, the Qin Empire collapsed, and the garden was destroyed. Still, the idea of using islands and mountains to represent the Immortals’ paradise remained. Many later gardens included one island with a single mountain, while others followed the “one pond, three mountains” design, known as Yichi Sanshan, representing Penglai, Yingzhou, and Fanghu.

Under the Han dynasty, the capital moved to Chang’an. Emperor Wu built an imperial garden that blended botanical and zoological collections with hunting grounds. Inspired by another version of the Immortal Islands legend from the Liezi, he constructed the Lake of the Supreme Essence with three islands representing Penglai, Fanghu, and Yingzhou. This was the first recorded example of the complete Yichi Sanshan layout, which became a standard for imperial gardens.

During the reign of Emperor Shun in the 2nd century CE, General Liang Ji built one of the era’s most elaborate private gardens. Funded by his wealth from two decades in the imperial court, it featured artificial mountains, deep ravines, forests, rare birds, and tamed wild animals. It was one of the earliest gardens designed to be a perfected imitation of the natural world.

Chinese Gardens in the Age of Poetry and Retreat

After the Han dynasty collapsed, China entered a long era of political unrest. During this time, Buddhism spread quickly after Emperor Ming introduced it in the 1st century CE. By 495, the Northern Wei capital of Luoyang held more than 1,300 Buddhist temples, many converted from the homes of believers. Almost every temple had its own small garden.

As the imperial court lost stability, many former officials left public life and built private gardens as places of retreat. These spaces were designed for peace, reflection, and literary gatherings. One of the most famous was the Garden of the Golden Valley, created in 296 by Shi Chong, an aristocrat and retired court minister. Located northeast of Luoyang, it was filled with springs, bamboo groves, fruit trees, cypress, medicinal plants, and a mix of fields, ponds, caves, and farmland. Shi Chong hosted a banquet there for thirty renowned poets, an event later recorded in his own words and celebrated in the Poems of the Golden Valley. This collection helped establish a lasting link between Chinese gardens and poetry.

Another major influence came from the poet and calligrapher Wang Xizhi, who hosted the famous Orchid Pavilion Gathering in the 4th century. At this country retreat, poets sat along a winding stream where cups of wine floated downstream. Whoever had a cup stop in front of them would drink and then write a poem. The design of a garden with flowing water for this kind of game, called liubei tang or “floating cup hall,” became a favorite feature in both imperial and private landscapes.

The Orchid Pavilion’s legacy reached the Sui dynasty, when Emperor Yang built the Garden of the West near Hangzhou. Like Wang Xizhi’s retreat, it had a winding stream for floating wine cups and pavilions for composing poetry. Emperor Yang also staged performances there, sending small boats with animated figures drifting down the water to tell scenes from Chinese history.

Tang Dynasty Gardens: The First Golden Age

The Tang dynasty, from 618 to 907 CE, marked the first great era of classical Chinese garden design. Emperor Xuanzong created one of the most celebrated imperial gardens of the time, the Garden of the Majestic Clear Lake, near Xi’an. He lived there with his famous consort, Yang Guifei, turning it into a place of luxury and romance.

During this period, poetry and painting reached unprecedented heights, and gardens became an essential part of life in the Tang capital, Chang’an. Many were inspired by legendary tales and ancient poems. Some, called shanchi yuan, featured man-made mountains and ponds based on myths about the isles of immortals. Others, known as shanting yuan, had miniature mountains and pavilions for viewing the scenery. Even small homes often had courtyard gardens with clay mountain models and tiny ponds.

Scholar’s gardens, or wenren yuan, grew in importance. These spaces inspired poetry and painting, while also being shaped by them. A famous example was the Jante Valley Garden of poet and painter Wang Wei. He restored an abandoned villa on a river and lake and divided it into twenty distinct scenes, each with its own name, such as the Garden of Magnolias, the Waving Willows, the Kiosk in the Heart of the Bamboos, the Spring of the Golden Powder, and the View-House beside the Lake. Wang Wei wrote a poem for each location and hired an artist to paint them on his villa walls. In retirement, he spent his days boating, playing music, and writing poetry in this personal retreat.

Horticulture advanced rapidly in the Tang dynasty. Gardeners introduced, transplanted, and grafted many plant species. They valued plants not only for use but also for beauty, and numerous works on plant care and classification were published. Chang’an, a thriving and cosmopolitan city, welcomed diplomats, traders, monks, pilgrims, and students from across Asia. These visitors shared detailed accounts of the city’s gardens far beyond China’s borders. The wealth and stability of the Tang period led to a surge in garden building across the country.

The last great garden of the Tang era was the Hamlet of the Mountain of the Serene Spring, or Pingquan Shanzhuang, created by Grand Minister Li Deyu near Luoyang. It was immense, with more than a hundred pavilions, but it became famous for its rare and unusually shaped rocks and plants, gathered from across China. These rocks, later known as Chinese scholar’s rocks, were prized for their ability to suggest mountain forms and eventually became a defining feature of classical Chinese gardens.

Song Dynasty Gardens: Imperial Grandeur and Private Retreats

The Song dynasty had two eras, the Northern Song and the Southern Song, and both became known for remarkable garden design. Emperor Huizong, who ruled from 1082 to 1135, was not only an emperor but also a skilled painter of birds and flowers. As a scholar, he blended features of private scholar gardens into his imperial landscapes. His first major project, the Basin of the Clarity of Gold, was an artificial lake surrounded by terraces and pavilions. Every spring, the public could enter the grounds to watch boat races and lake performances.

In 1117, Huizong began work on a new imperial garden. He gathered rare plants and striking stones from across China, especially the prized rocks from Lake Tai. Some stones were so massive that he ordered all the bridges between Hangzhou and Beijing dismantled so they could be transported by water along the Grand Canal. At the garden’s center, he built an artificial mountain over one hundred meters tall, complete with cliffs and ravines. He called it Genyue, or the Mountain of Stability. The garden was completed in 1122. But only five years later, Huizong was forced to flee Kaifeng when the Jurchen-led Jin dynasty invaded. When he returned as a prisoner, the pavilions were burned, the artworks stolen, and only the mountain remained standing.

While imperial gardens drew the most attention, smaller gardens in cities like Luoyang were also admired. The Garden of the Monastery of the Celestial Rulers was famous for its peonies, attracting the entire city when they bloomed. The Garden of Multiple Springtimes was known for its mountain views. The most celebrated garden in Luoyang was the Garden of Solitary Joy, built by poet and historian Sima Guang. Covering about 1.5 hectares, it had a central Pavilion of Study holding five thousand books. To the north was an artificial lake with a small island and a fisherman's hut. The east side held a garden of medicinal herbs, while the west featured a man-made mountain topped with a viewing platform. Visitors could explore the grounds by paying a small entry fee.

After Kaifeng fell, the Song court moved the capital to Lin’an, now Hangzhou in Zhejiang Province. Soon, more than fifty gardens lined the shores of West Lake. Suzhou, another city in the province, also became known for its garden culture. Scholars, officials, and merchants built residences with private gardens, some of which survive today, though most have changed over time.

Surviving Song Dynasty Gardens

The oldest garden in Suzhou still standing is the Blue Wave Pavilion, first built in 1044 by the poet Su Shunqing. In the Song period, it featured a hilltop viewing structure along with lakeside pavilions, including spaces for reverence, poetry recitation, and watching fish in the water below. Although altered many times over the centuries, its original layout can still be recognized today.

Another Song-era garden that survives is the Master of the Nets Garden, also in Suzhou. Created in 1141 by Shi Zhengzhi, a high-ranking official of the Southern Song, it included his library, the Hall of Ten Thousand Volumes, and a nearby retreat called the Fisherman’s Retreat. Between 1736 and 1796, the garden was heavily renovated, yet it remains one of the finest examples of a Song scholar’s garden.

In Wuxi, a city beside Lake Tai and at the base of two mountains, historian Zhou Mi recorded thirty-four gardens during the Song dynasty. The most famous were the Garden of the North and the Garden of the South, both owned by Shen Dehe, a grand minister to Emperor Gaozong. The Garden of the South was a classic mountain-and-water landscape, with a lake holding an Island of Immortality, topped by three massive boulders from Lake Tai. The Garden of the North was a water garden with five large lakes linked to Lake Tai, along with a terrace offering sweeping views of the surrounding mountains and water.

Chinese Gardens in the Yuan Dynasty

In 1271, Kublai Khan founded the Yuan dynasty, bringing China under Mongol rule. By 1279, he had defeated the last forces of the Song dynasty and united the country. He chose the site of present-day Beijing for his new capital, naming it Dadu, meaning Great Capital.

One of the most celebrated gardens of the Yuan period was Kublai Khan’s summer palace at Xanadu. Around 1275, the Venetian traveler Marco Polo visited and left a detailed account. He described a walled park stretching about sixteen miles, filled with rivers, streams, fountains, and green meadows. It was stocked with animals that were safe to keep, which the Khan raised to feed his hunting birds. He reportedly kept over two hundred gerfalcons along with other hawks. Each week, Kublai Khan visited to check on them and sometimes rode through the park with a leopard on his saddle. If he spotted prey, he would release the leopard to catch it, and later feeding the game to his hawks. Polo’s account would later inspire the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge to write his famous work Kubla Khan.

When building Dadu, Kublai Khan expanded the artificial lakes first made by the Jin dynasty and raised the island of Qinghua. The flowing shapes of the lake and gardens contrasted sharply with the rigid layout of the palace complex that would later become the Forbidden City. That contrast can still be seen today.

Even during Mongol rule, private gardens by scholars and artists thrived in other regions. One example is the Lion Grove Garden in Suzhou, built in 1342. Its name came from unusual limestone formations brought from Lake Tai, some resembling lions’ heads. Centuries later, the Kangxi and Qianlong emperors of the Qing dynasty visited many times and used it as inspiration for their own summer retreat, the Garden of Perfect Splendor, at the Chengde Mountain Resort.

Chinese Gardens in the Ming Dynasty

In 1368, Zhu Yuanzhang and his Ming forces seized Dadu from the Mongols, ending the Yuan dynasty. He ordered the destruction of the Yuan palaces, leaving little trace of the former capital’s grand structures.

One of the most celebrated Ming gardens still standing is the Humble Administrator’s Garden in Suzhou. Built between 1506 and 1521 by Wang Xianchen, a retired government official, it became his personal refuge. Although altered over the centuries, the garden’s heart remains intact. A wide lotus-filled pond sits at the center, ringed by pavilions and covered walkways positioned to frame different views of the water. An island known as the Fragrant Isle, shaped like a boat, sits in the pond. The garden also uses the classic technique of “borrowed view” or jiejing, framing distant mountains and the well-known silhouette of a pagoda as part of its scenery.

Another Ming garden in Suzhou, the Lingering Garden, was built during the reign of the Wanli Emperor between 1573 and 1620. In the Qing dynasty, twelve tall limestone rocks were added to represent mountain peaks. The most famous of these is the Auspicious Cloud-Capped Peak, a striking stone that became the garden’s focal point.

The Garden of Cultivation, also in Suzhou, was created between 1621 and 1627 by the grandson of Wen Zhengming, the renowned Ming painter and calligrapher. Designed around a central pond, it features the Longevity Pavilion to the north, the Fry Pavilion to the east, a dramatic rock garden to the south, and the Humble House, the owner’s study, to the west.

Chinese Gardens in the Qing Dynasty

The Qing dynasty was the final imperial era in China, and it produced some of the most well-known gardens in the country. The Summer Palace and the Old Summer Palace in Beijing stood out as symbols of wealth and refined taste. European visitors often wrote about their beauty.

One detailed account came from Father Attiret, a French Jesuit who served as court painter for the Qianlong Emperor between 1738 and 1768. He described the Jade Terrace on the Isle of Immortality in the lake of the Summer Palace as an island with a small palace containing a hundred rooms and salons. The design and setting, he said, were beyond what words could fully convey.

Building and maintaining these gardens cost a large share of the imperial treasury. Empress Dowager Cixi is remembered for taking funds meant to modernize the Beiyang Fleet and instead using them to restore the Summer Palace and build the marble boat-shaped teahouse on Lake Kunming. Both the Summer Palace and Old Summer Palace suffered destruction during the nineteenth century, first during foreign military expeditions and later in the Boxer Rebellion. Restoration work continues today.

The Qing emperors also created another vast garden complex between 1703 and 1792 in the mountains about 200 kilometers northeast of Beijing. Known as the Chengde Mountain Resort, it spanned 560 hectares and featured seventy-two separate scenic areas, each designed to recreate landscapes from across China in miniature. Unlike the Summer Palace, much of Chengde has survived in good condition.

Private gardens also flourished during the Qing era. In Suzhou, the Couple’s Retreat Garden, built between 1723 and 1736, and the Retreat and Reflection Garden, completed in 1885, remain preserved examples of the refined scholar garden tradition.

Design of the Classical Chinese Garden

A classical Chinese garden was never meant to be taken in with one glance. The layout was planned so visitors moved through a sequence of framed views, each one revealing something new. You might see a pond framed by willows, a cluster of bamboo, a flowering plum tree, a jagged rock, or a faraway mountain peak or pagoda. In the 16th century, writer and designer Ji Cheng advised builders to hide anything ordinary and highlight only what was beautiful.

Early Western visitors sometimes thought these gardens felt crowded and disorderly, with structures in different styles and no clear pattern. But others, like Jesuit painter Jean Denis Attiret, saw the design as deliberate. Living in China in the mid-1700s, Attiret called it a “beautiful disorder,” an intentional lack of symmetry that felt natural yet refined. He noted that no single spot revealed the whole garden. Instead, you had to explore it step by step, discovering its beauty in pieces. This irregular style often contrasted with the strict, straight-line layout of the homes beside them. For example, in Suzhou’s Couple’s Garden, the residence follows a perfect north–south axis, while the garden breaks that order with winding paths, angled pavilions, and hidden views created by rock formations.

These gardens could be grand or small. The Humble Administrator’s Garden in Suzhou covers over ten hectares, with a pond taking up a fifth of the space. But Ji Cheng once designed a garden under one hectare for Wu Youyu, the Treasurer of Jinling. A walk from the entrance to the final viewpoint was only four hundred steps, yet Wu said it held the essence of the whole province.

Most classical gardens were enclosed by white walls, which set off the colors of plants and trees. A pond often sat at the center, with structures built around it. In Ji Cheng’s design for Wu Youyu, buildings filled two-thirds of the land, while the rest was green space. In scholar gardens, the main structure was usually a library or study, linked by covered walkways to smaller pavilions for viewing different features. These buildings divided the space into separate scenes, each with its own mood. Plants, rocks, and trees were arranged like miniature landscapes. Gardeners also used “borrowed scenery,” where a view beyond the walls, like a distant mountain, felt like part of the garden itself.

Architecture played a major role. Classical gardens were filled with halls, pavilions, bridges, towers, and galleries, each built to frame a view. The Humble Administrator’s Garden alone has forty-eight structures, including residences, gathering halls, eighteen viewing pavilions, and many towers and bridges. None of these buildings were meant to overpower nature. Instead, they blended with the landscape, becoming part of the scenery they were built to showcase.

Structures in Classical Chinese Gardens

Traditional Chinese gardens included a variety of buildings, each with its own purpose and meaning. The ceremony hall, or ting, was near the main gate and used for family events or celebrations, often with a small courtyard inside. The main pavilion, or da ting, served as the reception space for guests, banquets, and holiday gatherings like New Year and the Lantern Festival. It usually had a veranda running around it for shade and cooler air.

Near the residence, the flower pavilion, or hua ting, opened into a rear courtyard filled with plants, blossoms, and a small rock garden. The four-direction pavilion, or si mian ting, had folding or movable walls that opened up wide views in every direction. The lotus pavilion, or he hua ting, was built beside a lotus pond so visitors could enjoy the blooms and their scent. The mandarin duck pavilion, or yuan yang ting, was split into two sections: the north-facing side for summer, overlooking the lotus pond, and the south-facing side for winter, looking onto a courtyard of pine and plum trees. The pine stayed green year-round, while the plum’s blossoms signaled the start of spring.

Beyond these main buildings, gardens were dotted with smaller pavilions, also called ting, for shade, shelter from rain, enjoying a view, reciting poetry, or catching a breeze. Some were built where the sunrise could be seen, where moonlight reflected on water, where autumn leaves were at their brightest, where rain tapped on banana leaves, or where wind moved through bamboo. They might be attached to other buildings or placed alone at a viewpoint, beside a pond, or on a hill. Most were open on three sides.

Pavilions were often named to describe the scene or feeling they offered, such as the Peak-Worshipping Pavilion in the Lingering Garden, the Hall of Distant Fragrances in the Humble Administrator’s Garden, or the Pavilion of the Moon and Wind in the Master of the Nets Garden. Other examples include the Pavilion in the Lotus Breeze, the Listening to the Rain Pavilion, the Watching the Pines and Appreciating Paintings Hall, and the Spot of Return for Reading. Names like Between the Mountains and the Water Pavilion, Pavilion Leaning on the Jade, Soft Rain Brings Coolness Terrace, and Lasting Spring and Moon Viewing Tower captured the atmosphere they were meant to create.

Many gardens also featured two-story towers, called lou or ge, usually set at the edge of the grounds. The lower level was made of stone, while the upper level was whitewashed and about two-thirds the height of the floor below. These towers gave visitors a higher view of the garden and the surrounding landscape.

Design Features of Traditional Chinese Gardens

Some classical Chinese gardens include a stone pavilion shaped like a boat, set directly in the pond. Known as xie, fang, or shifang, these structures often have three connected sections. At the front is an open kiosk with winged gables, the center holds a small hall for private gatherings, and the rear features a two-story building that offers wide views of the water.

Courtyards, or yuan, are another defining feature. These small enclosed spaces offer stillness and privacy, making them ideal for quiet thought, painting, tea, or playing the guqin. Narrow covered corridors called lang connect the different buildings. These passageways protect visitors from sun and rain while also dividing the garden into distinct areas. Instead of running straight, they bend and zigzag, tracing the pond’s edge, curving around walls, or climbing artificial hills. Small windows in unusual shapes, such as circles, hexagons, or vases, are often set into these walls, giving carefully framed glimpses of trees, blossoms, and garden scenes.

Windows and doorways in Chinese gardens are designed as part of the landscape. They may be round like a moon gate, or shaped in ovals, octagons, and other forms. Many have detailed ceramic frames, each intended to frame a view as if it were a painting.

Bridges are another signature element. Like the galleries, they often take winding or zigzag forms, including the well-known Nine-Turn Bridge. Some are stone or rough timber paths raised above the water, while others are brightly painted or lacquered, adding a lively touch to the scene.

Gardens may also include small houses designed for retreat and meditation. These might be rustic fishing huts or more refined structures used as libraries or studios, known as shufang.

Rock gardens, or jiashan, hold a special place in classical Chinese garden design. In Confucian thought and the I Ching, mountain peaks symbolized virtue, stability, and endurance. Islands with tall peaks are also linked to the legend of the Isles of the Immortals, which made them an important motif in many gardens. The first recorded rock garden, called Tu Yuan or Rabbit Garden, was built during the Western Han dynasty between 206 BCE and 9 CE. By the Tang dynasty, rocks themselves had become art objects, valued for their shape, substance, color, texture, and even qualities like softness or transparency. The poet Bo Juyi cataloged the most prized Lake Tai stones, which were naturally sculpted limestone shaped by erosion. These Taihu rocks became some of the most sought-after features in traditional gardens.

Mountains, Water, and Symbolism in Chinese Gardens

In the Song dynasty, most artificial mountains were shaped from earth. Emperor Huizong, who ruled from 1100 to 1125, went to extreme lengths to bring massive stones to his imperial garden. He even dismantled bridges along the Grand Canal so the rocks could be moved by barge, nearly bankrupting the empire. By the Ming dynasty, piling rocks to form mountains and grottos had become an art at its peak. In the Qing period, many felt Ming-style rockeries looked too unnatural, so designers began mixing rocks with earth to create more realistic landscapes.

Artificial mountains often have a small viewing pavilion at the top. In smaller gardens, a single scholar rock can stand in for an entire peak, or a line of stones may represent a mountain range.

Water is just as important as mountains. A pond or lake usually forms the heart of a Chinese garden. Main halls and pavilions are placed beside the water so visitors can see it from different angles. Many gardens feature lotus ponds with pavilions built for viewing the flowers in summer. Goldfish are often kept in these ponds, with platforms over the water for watching them.

In Chinese philosophy, especially the I Ching, water symbolizes lightness, movement, and connection. It carries the nourishment of life through valleys and plains. In garden design, water balances the mountain, representing dreams and endless space. Designers often shape ponds so the far edges are hidden, making the water seem infinite. The fluidity and change of water contrast with the permanence of rocks. It reflects the sky, changing constantly with the light, and even the slightest wind can ripple or blur the reflection.

The inspiration for many waterside features also comes from literature. Liu Yiqing’s Shishuo Xinyu, written between 403 and 444, describes Emperor Jianwen of Jin strolling along the banks of the Hao and Pu Rivers in the Garden of the Splendid Forest. Imperial and private gardens, especially those in Jiangnan and northern China, often borrowed scenes, names, and ideas from this famous work.

Water, Plants, and Seasonal Beauty in Chinese Gardens

Smaller Chinese gardens often center on a single lake, with a rock garden, plants, and small structures arranged around its edge. In medium-sized gardens, one lake may be fed by streams crossed by bridges, or a long lake may be split into two sections by a narrow channel with a bridge above it. In larger gardens, such as the Humble Administrator’s Garden, the main feature is a wide lake dotted with symbolic islands representing the Isles of the Immortals. Streams feed into the lake, creating new scenes along the way. Visitors can see the water from many spots, including stone boats, covered bridges, and pavilions set beside or over the surface.

Streams in these gardens are never straight. They wind through the space, disappearing behind rocks or into dense plants before reappearing. Father Attiret, a French Jesuit missionary and painter for the Qianlong Emperor between 1738 and 1768, wrote about one garden where the canals were lined with irregular stones arranged so skillfully that they seemed completely natural.

Plants are as important as water, rocks, and architecture in a Chinese garden. They show nature in its most lively and changing form, balancing the hard lines of buildings and the stillness of stone. Their colors, shapes, scents, and sounds change with the seasons. The rustle of bamboo in the wind or the patter of rain on banana leaves brings movement and life, keeping the garden in constant transformation.

Symbolism of Plants and Flowers in Chinese Gardens

Every plant in a traditional Chinese garden carried a meaning. Pines, bamboo, and plum trees were called the Three Friends of Winter. They stayed green or bloomed during the coldest months and became symbols of endurance. Artists such as Zhao Mengjian painted them together as a set. Pines stood for long life, strength, and loyalty in friendship. Bamboo, with its hollow stems, symbolized wisdom, modesty, and a constant search for knowledge. It also bent in storms without breaking, showing resilience. Plum trees marked renewal and the return of spring. During the Song dynasty, the winter plum was a favorite for its early pink or white blossoms and sweet scent.

Peach trees were tied to legends of immortality. In the tale of Xi Wangmu, the Queen Mother of the West, her orchard’s peach trees took three thousand years to flower, another three thousand to bear fruit, and three thousand more to ripen. Anyone who ate the fruit became immortal. These mythical orchards appeared in many paintings and inspired garden scenes. Pear trees stood for justice and wisdom, but the word for pear also sounded like “separate” in Chinese, so cutting a pear was thought to bring bad luck to friendships or romances. At the same time, because pear trees lived for many years, they could also represent lasting bonds.

Apricot trees were linked to the lives of scholars and officials. In the Tang dynasty, those who passed the imperial exams were honored with a banquet in the Garden of Apricot Trees. Pomegranates, with their many seeds, were given to newlyweds to wish for sons and many descendants. Willow trees symbolized friendship and the joy of life. Guests were often given willow branches as a token of goodwill.

Certain flowers held special value. Orchids stood for nobility and, in poetry, for unattainable love. Peonies, especially during the Tang dynasty, were symbols of wealth and beauty. The poet Zhou Dunyi praised the lotus, seeing it as a symbol of purity and a person of integrity who rises above the mud to bloom. Chrysanthemums were loved by the poet Tao Yuanming, who grew them outside his hut and wrote of picking them by the eastern fence while gazing at distant southern mountains in quiet peace.

Design Principles and Borrowed Scenery in Chinese Gardens

Garden builders in China worked to keep the landscape looking as natural as possible. If trees or plants were trimmed, it was done with care to keep their original shape. Twisted, old-looking dwarf trees were especially valued for creating miniature landscapes with a sense of age and character.

In the 16th century, Ji Cheng wrote The Craft of Gardens (Yuanye), which called “borrowed scenery” the most important part of garden design. This meant using views from outside the garden to make the space feel larger and more connected to the world beyond. Distant mountains, nearby trees, or even a pagoda on the horizon could become part of the garden’s composition. One famous example is the view of the North Temple Pagoda in Suzhou, seen across the pond at the Humble Administrator’s Garden, often softened by morning mist.

Borrowed scenery could also come from smaller details: the curve of a stream, the movement of fish, the sound of rain, the glow of moonlight, the color of a sunset, or a layer of fog over the water. Ji Cheng advised placing pavilions near temples to catch the sound of chants, planting fragrant flowers along walkways, creating perches to attract songbirds, designing streams with pleasant water sounds, and planting banana trees so rain would tap softly on their leaves. For him, this type of “borrowing” had no strict rule. It was simply about responding to the beauty of the moment.

Time and season were also part of the plan. Designers thought about which scenes would look best in spring, summer, autumn, and winter, as well as how the garden would appear at night, in the morning, or in the afternoon. Ji Cheng described moments such as standing in a quiet spot above the city to see mountains framing the horizon, sitting in an open pavilion with a light breeze drifting in, or watching spring water flow toward the marsh from the front gate.

The final chapter of Yuanye explained borrowed scenery as the essence of Chinese landscape design. Nature itself, always changing, was the true partner in creating a garden. The designer’s role was not to control it completely, but to work with it, allowing both the garden and its surroundings to shape the experience.

Concealment and Surprise in Chinese Gardens

A traditional Chinese garden is never meant to be taken in at a glance. Its design hides most views until the right moment. Visitors move along winding paths or through covered walkways, each turn or doorway revealing a fresh scene. A grove of bamboo might block the view until you round a corner. A moon gate or a carved lattice window might frame the next scene in a way that makes it feel like a painting. Openings can be round, geometric, or shaped in unusual ways, each breaking the view into smaller, more intriguing parts.

This idea of gradual discovery ties closely to Chinese art and literature, which in turn have influenced garden design for centuries. The landscape painting style known as Shanshui began in the 5th century and shaped how people thought about scenery. The name means “mountains and water,” but the meaning is broader. These paintings were not exact depictions of nature. Instead, they showed how the artist felt about a place.

The painter Shitao, who lived from 1641 to 1720, wrote that he wanted to create landscapes untouched by anything ordinary. He aimed to give viewers a sense of awe, as if looking at places no human could reach, like the mythical islands of Bohai, Penglai, and Fanghu, where only immortals live. He believed this feeling could be created with jagged peaks, sheer cliffs, narrow bridges, and deep chasms, all brought to life through the skill of the brush. Garden makers tried to evoke the same feeling with their rock formations and miniature mountains.

The garden designer Ji Cheng, in his book Craft of Gardens, wrote that a designer must study real mountains and forests to create artificial ones that still feel alive. He believed the work should have the spirit of nature, shaped both by inspiration and by careful effort. Describing an autumn scene, he spoke of creating a quiet place that draws the mind away from daily life. The viewer should feel as though they have stepped inside a painting, wandering among peaks and valleys in a world apart from the everyday.

Gardens in Chinese Poetry and Culture

Chinese gardens have long been tied to poetry, especially the style known as Tianyuan, meaning “fields and gardens.” This form of writing reached its height during the Tang dynasty from 618 to 907, with poets like Wang Wei leading the way. Many famous gardens took their names from poetic lines. In Suzhou, the Surging Waves Garden and the Garden of Meditation both draw their titles from classic verses. Inside these gardens, pavilions, and scenic spots often carried inscriptions of poetry carved into stone or written on plaques.

At the Couple’s Retreat Garden, the Moon Comes with the Breeze Pavilion was built for viewing the moon. It bears a line by Han Yu that reads: “The twilight brings the autumn, and the wind brings the moon here.” In the same garden, the Peony Hall honors a verse by Li Bai: “The spring breeze is gently stroking the balustrade, and the peony is wet with dew.”

Wang Wei, a poet, painter, and Buddhist monk, began his career in government before retiring to Lantian. There, he built one of the earliest wenren yuan, or scholar’s gardens, called the Valley of the Jante. It featured twenty scenes, arranged like a scroll of paintings, each paired with a poem. One of these scenes illustrated his verse: “The white rock emerges from the torrent; the cold sky with red leaves scattering. On the mountain path, the rain is fleeing, the blue of the emptiness dampens our clothes.” Though the garden itself vanished, its image survived through art and poetry, inspiring generations of scholars and garden builders.

The importance of gardens in Chinese life can also be seen in Cao Xueqin’s classic novel Dream of the Red Chamber, which unfolds almost entirely within a garden setting.

Classical gardens served many purposes. They were venues for banquets, festivals, and family gatherings, as well as private retreats for reflection. They offered a peaceful setting for painting, calligraphy, music, and reading ancient texts. They were places to drink tea, to write poetry, and sometimes to enjoy wine. Beyond leisure, a garden was a mark of refinement, a way to show the owner’s taste and education. It was also a place built with meaning, carrying a quiet philosophical message within its design.

Taoist Influence on Chinese Classical Gardens

Taoism played a major role in shaping traditional Chinese gardens. After the Han dynasty, many former officials built private retreats away from the capital. Some had lost their positions, while others wanted to avoid the stress and corruption of political life. They followed Taoist beliefs that encouraged leaving behind worldly concerns to live in harmony with nature.

In Taoist thought, enlightenment came from understanding the unity of all creation. Nature already had balance and order built into it, and people could reach deeper awareness by observing and reflecting on it. Gardens were designed to feel like untouched landscapes, evoking the sense of wandering through a peaceful, ancient world where humans and nature existed as one.

Rocks and water were key elements in this philosophy. They represented yin and yang, opposite forces that rely on each other. Rocks were solid and unchanging, yet over time, flowing water could carve them away. The weathered stones from Lake Tai, often used in garden design, were chosen to show this natural relationship.

Garden design in the Ming period embraced the idea of “borrowing scenery,” meaning views from outside the garden were intentionally framed as part of the composition. Winding paths and zigzag bridges guided visitors between scenes, demonstrating a Chinese saying: “By detours, access to secrets.” Every turn offered a new discovery.

Landscape historian Che Bing Chiu described these gardens as a search for paradise. For scholars, they were a way to imagine the home of the Immortals or to reconnect with the “golden age” of the past. In 2007, Zhou Ganzhi, president of the Chinese Society of Landscape Architecture, explained that classical gardens perfectly merged nature and human creativity. They did not just copy nature, but refined it, bringing out its beauty through careful design.

Influence on Japanese Gardens

Chinese classical gardens had a lasting impact on Japanese garden design. Cultural exchange began before 600 CE, when ideas reached Japan through Korea. In 607 CE, Prince Shotoku sent a mission to the Chinese court, starting centuries of influence. Japanese scholars traveled to study Chinese language, politics, and culture. Early envoys like Ono no Imoko described the emperor’s gardens to the Japanese court, inspiring new approaches to landscaping in Japan.

During the Nara period and later in Heian, the Japanese court built large Chinese-style gardens with lakes, pavilions, and boat promenades for the aristocracy. Smaller gardens were also made for meditation and quiet reflection.

In the late twelfth century, the monk Eisai brought the Rinzai school of Zen Buddhism from China, which inspired the minimalist Zen garden, such as the famous one at Ryōan-ji. Eisai also introduced green tea, first used to keep monks alert during meditation. This later evolved into the Japanese tea ceremony, which became a central tradition in garden culture.

Garden designer Muso Soseki created Kyoto’s Moss Garden, which included a recreation of the Isles of Eight Immortals, a feature rooted in Chinese mythology. By the Kamakura and Muromachi periods, Japanese gardens took on a more restrained and distinct style, moving away from the Chinese approach while still carrying traces of its influence.

Moon Gates in Chinese and Bermudan Gardens

A moon gate, known in Chinese as yuèliàngmén, is a round opening in a garden wall that serves as a walkway. It is a classic feature in traditional Chinese gardens. The shape and tile designs carry symbolic meaning. Sloped roofs on a gate suggest the half moon of summer, and the tile ends often hold small talismans for protection.

In the late 1800s, moon gates found their way to Bermuda, around the same time the island began importing Easter lily bulbs from Japan. Bermudan moon gates differ from the Chinese style. They are often freestanding or connected to a short wall instead of a tall garden enclosure. In Bermuda, it is considered lucky for newlyweds to walk through one together.

Moon Bridges and Their Symbolism

A moon bridge, called yuèqiáo in Chinese, is a steeply arched pedestrian bridge. It began in China, later became popular in Japan, and now appears in gardens across East Asia. In Japan, it is also known as sori-bashi or taiko-bashi.

Many moon bridges today are decorative, but the original design was practical. The tall arch let people cross canals while leaving enough space for barges to pass underneath. This shape saved space on the banks since it did not need long ramps. Some moon bridges are so steep that steps or rungs are built into the walkway.

They can be made from many materials and built in different ways. One rare method, called the woven-arch style, weaves crossbeams through the main supports to add strength. This can be seen in the 12th-century Chinese Rainbow Bridge and the 1913 moon bridge in the Japanese garden at the Huntington Library in California.

In garden design, a moon bridge is often placed over calm water so the arch reflects below. The bridge and its reflection create a perfect circle, symbolizing the moon. In Chinese culture, the words for “full” and “circle” together mean “perfection,” so the design also represents purity and harmony.