In a landscape, the unity of the parts, its shape, is less than its overflowing; there are no real edges, all surfaces tremble and they organize themselves opening to the outside. 

The things into the landscape have a presence that goes further their surfaces, and this special emanation opposes to every true judgement. I see this tree and due that its shape appears, I concede to it one autonomy; but as I can’t finish with the in-definition of its branches, I can’t truly distinguish it from the environment into it co-exist. Its individuality it’s erased for the benefit of the ensemble… The things and places never exist as irreductible entireties and, in this case, it’s difficult to fragment a landscape because everything expands, everything flows and fuse. The space is full of this overflowings.

Michel Corajoud, Le paysage, c’est l’endroit ou le ciel et la terre se touchent (1981) 

Michel Corajoud, Henri Ciriani, Borja Huidobro, Parc de la Villeneuve de Grenoble (1974)