Garden Rant

Re-Wright

You may remember I posted here about the gorgeous conservatory designed by Frank Lloyd Wright for Darwin Martin’s estate in Buffalo. After being demolished, it has recently been rebuilt. If you’re interested, you can read more about it in this month’s Garden Design, in an article written by no other than fellow Ranter Amy Stewart.

As Jim/Art of Gardening relates in his post, Amy’s article is fascinating because it includes the correspondence between Wright and Martin, who had one of those great dysfunctional relationships that can only happen between architect and client, and that can only rise to such heights when the architect in question is one of our favorite egomaniacal geniuses.

I can’t link to the article, but it’s in the May GD. (Sorry, I know you can’t read it from the tiny image above.)

P.S. Buffalo gardens have been making the rounds in many garden magazines lately, largely because of all the visits we got last summer during Garden Walk. There is a six-page spread on a Buffalo garden in the May/June Garden Gate, as well. Again, no linkie! These guys don’t put their stuff online.

Regarding bulb comix, property values, and evil red mulch

HT Peter Hoh for drawing my attention to this amazing vintage comic book website which includes, incredibly enough, a 1956 comic book promoting Dutch tulip bulbs. It will not take you long to click through this hilarious work of literature yourself, so I’ll just briefly explain that the action involves one businessman on a commuter train telling another about how he planted bulbs on his property and was then able to sell his house immediately.

It’s all very silly, but two points seem to be stressed. One: it’s necessary to plan a bulb planting. Like so (from the book):

Simple! We’ll make a rough sketch of our grounds, and draw in the locations for the various flowers! We can use tulips along the path, hyacinths in the foundation planting, daffodils around the trees … Wait, let me get a pencil and paper!

We’ve moved beyond—well, we’re including more options than—daffodils in a circle and tulips in a row these days, with swaths, rivers, scattered three- and fivesomes, and many other planting schemes on the table. I suppose some people use a pencil and paper to plan bulb plantings, but I suspect most don’t think it necessary these days.

The concept of curb appeal, though, hasn’t changed. I saw this scary suggestion from a realtor in a recent article: “Remember, how you maintain your yard is how people will think you maintain your house inside.” Yikes! But I’m not so sure. I’m actually quite doubtful creative landscaping will go too far toward selling an otherwise slow-moving property—and speaking from personal experience I know that we paid no attention, and did not, in fact, realize what was planted around the house until it came up again the next year. At which point, we got rid of most of it. You will still find realtors and nursery professionals repeating the curb appeal via landscaping mantra everywhere, but I think the house and the location are what get the sale done.

I’ve waited until now to mention the blog where Peter found the comix link, the delightful Kiss My Aster, where I found plenty of funny stuff, like this: I hate red mulch. It will go down on my tombstone. Is it supposed to emulate Redwood trees shredded and mulched in your garden? Because that's plain sick.

Indeed.

Gardening by phone

If only it were that easy. Every spring, I listen—I can’t help it, unfortunately; the walls are too thin—as my next-door office neighbor begins her annual round of phone calls to various landscaping and yard service in the area. They start out calmly and somewhat optimistically. This, this, and this need to be fixed so the garden and yard will look right for the coming summer.

Then the tone gets a little more aggressive. Then it gets frantic. It almost seems as though the entire property were being done over each year. Shrubs are replaced. Turf is ripped up and replaced. Stonescaping is considered. The yard gets flooded. Trees come down. I have never been to this property, but in my mind it has become an apocalyptic cycle of constant destruction, rebirth, and destruction.

We were discussing this in Austin; indeed, Pam/Digging is a garden designer. I don’t want to generalize, therefore; I know there is a better world of garden design services out there. But—quite often—gardens I see that were completely done by a designer make me think “What did they do? What’s attractive/inviting/fun/interesting about this?” Often area gardens where outside contractors are continually used are always in a state of flux, and the owner is usually in a state of semi-unhappiness. Recently, four Buffalo gardens were featured in a magazine called (not very originally) Great Backyards, but still I was impressed to see it in Target, and other big chains. While many of the gardens featured had designers listed, the Buffalo ones had the owners listed as the designers. I think in Buffalo we have had to find our own way to deal with our tight, urban properties, because often what we hear from the professional community just doesn’t seem quite right. I know that happened to me twice when designers came: their suggestions involved major hardscaping changes/additions just for the sake of major hardscaping changes/additions. Yet, often I do feel I'd like some expert help.

Pam and Susan seem to have the right idea; they listen, they make suggestions, they guide, and they arrive at solutions that are largely carried out by the homeowner (or their helpers). I can hardly wait for some great garden coaches to come to Buffalo. When I listen to the anxious directives coming from the office next door, coaching makes more sense than ever.

Who needs gardening at the garden show?

Oh, I suppose, some practical ideas that could be executed in real gardens are expected, but that’s not why I go. Here are my requirements for an enjoyable afternoon at the typical North American garden exposition, generally held in late winter:

1. Color and scent everywhere. By this time, we Northeasterners need as many breaks from the dull gray weather as we can get.

2. Spectacular displays. Lacking that, really silly displays are almost as good.

3. A garden celebrity or two (in as much as we have them) is also a great addition, though I’m not terribly fond of sitting in sterile conference rooms listening to speakers, no matter how cool they are. Nonetheless, had the Renegade Gardener made an appearance anywhere around here (he did not) I would have sat in.

So, for my money (figurative speaking; I had a media pass), Canada Blooms, Toronto’s big garden show, satisfied on all counts and more—they even had a very civilized “wine garden,” where you could try a line-up of offerings, including icewine and some biodynamic vintages. After the needlessly harrowing drive from Buffalo to Toronto (always several inexplicable traffic hold-ups, and of course the all-new, all-stressful border experience), a drink is exactly what I needed.

A feature garden.

Once soothed by some unoaked chard, I and my companions (gardening friends Cheryl and mentee Ron) could take in the show.

Of course, you have to have a theme, and CB’s was really a fun one: Flower Power. Bright pinks, green, and yellows were the dominant colors, and flowers in these hues had been fashioned into all kinds of symbolic and sculptural forms by creative TO florists. I didn’t see all the featured display gardens, and I have no idea who won which prizes, but what I did see was mostly interesting and creative. There were lots of sustainable strategies everywhere and some attractive—even subtle—water features.

The gardens were fine, but I think CB excelled most in its very literal expression of its theme: cut flowers were everywhere. This was very welcome, as most garden shows focus on forced spring bulbs, hothouse hydrangea, azaleas, and whatever perennials they can muster at this difficult time. No one uses these flowers in their gardens in the way that garden shows do, so their presence to help simulate real gardens can be tiresome in a way that the frankly fantastic use of exotic blooms isn’t. Anyway, that’s how I see it.

Home Depot's sea of tulips.

Psychedelic floral creations aside, the main purpose of our visit was to talk to Barbara Damrosch about her revised Garden Primer. More on that Wednesday.

Topiary is … back?

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of cutting and shaping; that much becomes obvious about every six weeks when I look in the mirror and anxiously place my “I have to get in THIS WEEK” call to the salon.

But just as I’d never try to trim my own hair in a million years, I wouldn’t know how to begin to attractively sculpt a sizable bush or hedge in my own garden. That’s why I don’t have any. When we moved in nine years ago, there was a row of yews in front of the house that I’ve since replaced with hardy rhododendrons, which don't need to be clipped into boxy or rounded shapes—though I wish someone would tell the landscapers at my office park that. Someday, I’ll replace the rhodies with a native shrub that flowers, berries, and is supposed to be messy looking.

Designers who put together display gardens at garden shows tend not to be as fond of messy as I am. That must be one of the reasons organizers of Canada Blooms, the big Toronto garden show, are mentioning that “ironic animal topiary” is making a somewhat limited comeback. It’s all in service of that scary gardening sub-category known as “whimsy.” (I’ve noticed that anytime I mention sculpture or anything art-related in a blog post, by the time it gets to Garden Voices, it will be tucked into that category.) The one place where they do this type of thing terribly well is—of course—across the pond, where we saw a few minor examples in the summer of 2004. (One, in need of trimming, is shown at top. It’s from Knightshayes, in Somerset.) Among the American examples is a fine topiary garden in Portsmouth, Rhode Island, as photographed by John Pfahl for his book, Extreme Horticulture.

I must say, if I had to have that type of small leaved, dense, all-green shrub, I’d probably want to trim it into something, just to keep it from being boring. But I doubt I could get it to look like anything recognizable. The Christopher Lloyd fans among us will remember that among his eccentricities was the maintenance of a magnificent group of yew topiary animals. I believe there are several reasons this tends to go over well in England—the main one being, of course that the clipped shrubs look good through the winter. I also think that this triumph over nature goes right along with the planned exoticism of the blazing tropicals Lloyd favored. Even if the empire has shrunk, the carefully tended remnants of it can still be celebrated, far away from their native habitats. Which is fine with me; I’ve never thought there was anything particularly natural about a garden.

That’s why I love a good garden show, the more over-the-top the better. I am hoping for some exotic and outrageous displays in Toronto—a detail from last year is shown above—and will be reporting on them, as well as my interview with Barbara Damrosch, next weekend.

Garden Show Idea: Run a Pole Through Flower Pots

New England Flower Show Preview Party

Live-blogging the New England Flower Show

Still plenty of trend talk in gardening’s off-season

The T-word floods the internets as all the garden show speakers make their pronouncements. Here’s Dan Benarcik, a horticulturist at Chanticleer Garden in Wayne, Pa., and instructor at Longwood Gardens, Kennett Square, who is speaking at a show in Pittsburgh, March 8:

Three major trends in public horticulture are influencing gardens today, according to Benarcik. They include the return of tropical plants and Victorian bedding plants as seasonal displays, and a newfound awareness of colors and textures in foliage in addition to flowers. The third is an up-and-coming trend toward plant architecture, or selecting plants for their distinctive structure.

On the other hand, Jeff Lowenfels says from Alaska that besides organic methods, the next big thing is “programs selling specialty flowering plants, which are nationally promoted under a brand name in magazines and other media. The most noticeable of these is the Proven Winners program, which has been around for several years. There are four or five big growers who distribute to thousands of nurseries, such as ours in Anchorage, a few dozen hybrid plants developed especially for the home grower. Local nurseries get plants as plugs and grow them until they are sold. Each plant is given a special label with instructions, the trademarked program name and a great picture of the plant. Most are sold when they are in bloom.”

I dunno, I do like some of the Proven Winners cultivars, but sometimes they just seem a way to charge more for plants. Disturbingly, Lowenfels next warns that due to droughts in Georgia, Oregon, and Minnesota, there will be far fewer plants available for sale this spring

Ah yes, the Color Marketing Group. I love them. They pick the hot colors and then distribute gorgeous images that illustrate the colors. They also brought us avocado green and harvest gold in the late 60s. (My mom is shown with her gold fridge, above.) Fortunately for us, they’re stressing “colors of nature,” stressing that colors need to be “green” whether they’re actually green or not. "Anything that looks like something that helps save the environment will be big," says CMG spokesperson Amy Larrabee. They also predict a heavier use of red, partially inspired by the Beijing Olympics, and concur with British designer Rachel de Thame, quoted by Amy a few posts back: pink and lavender are returning into favor. Too bad I am already well on my way to replacing those colors with yellow/orange, and purple/blue. Lavender always ends up looking muddy in my space.

And then, of course, the usual talk of outdoor living and containers, especially vegetables in containers, continues. I know several people who do really well with heirloom tomatoes in containers.

I don’t know what trends I’ll be following this spring (other than the usual one of trying to keep my garden from looking like crap), but I am interested in trying for 1. More native plants. Regardless of what Michael Pollan might think about that, I’m interested in them. 2. More verticality. I think more tall plants and vines are needed in my narrow, urban space. 3. Less one-of-a-kinds; more groups of the same plant for coherence. 4. And I must find room for a small bar, or some kind of place to stash entertaining accoutrement. I guess that's trendy.

Grass walls, not glass walls

Though I've often whined about the 9-5 life that stops me from spending nearly as much time in my garden as I'd like, once in a while I do benefit from my job. Like now, as we complete our first GREEN issue (yeah, not exactly first out of the gate on that one). In spite of the depressing realization that our house will never be passive solar, geothermal, or sustainably insulated, I've enjoyed finding out about the many ways others are finding sustainable living and working possible.

For example, there are several straw bale structures in the Buffalo area, including a house and a greenhouse. That seems kind of amazing when you think of it. Buffalo. Straw house. The two concepts don't seem quite compatible, but apparently they are. And of course I thought of Michele's greenhouse yearnings.

A straw bale greenhouse has been built on the West Side as part of a youth agriculture training project. The top and front of the greenhouse are polycarbonate, bringing in the sun, while the straw bale walls keep the heat in. (Oh, yes, I'm sure it's all way more complicated than that, but you can google the rest for yourself.)

What attracts me is that it's an earthy, steadfast way of defying the vicissitudes of nature and making things grow as the icy blasts rage outside. I love our 1905 Lord & Burnham glasshouse complex, but I also know how much grant money and reconstruction is necessary to keep the thing in one piece. One of the houses always seems to be out of commission. This, on the other hand, seems much less of a lift financially (130 bales at $4 each is all it took). I do wonder if clear walls as well as a clear roof are necessary for the crops, but I guess we'll all know when the new greenhouse is put to work this spring.

Photo at top by Meg Knowles, who also has produced a documentary about the Growing Green youth agriculture program and its greenhouse.