Garden Diary: Testing Fence Colors for the Brooklyn Garden

Looking, looking, looking for the right color for the fence ... Not there yet.

Five colors so far, from left to right, Harbor Gray, Heritage Blue (it looked gray on the color swatch), Pewter, Slate, all Behr colors from Home Depot. The last a color I saw on Susan Cohan's blog, Sherwin Williams' Bohemian Black with, in Susan's words, "a decidely plum cast."

Harbor Gray ... too light. Heritage Blue ... too blue.

Pewter ... gets a maybe. Slate ... also a maybe. I really think I'd like to see something closer to my original idea of Charleston Green, though Les disapproves.

Slate again ... and Bohemian Black on the right. The plum cast is much more clearly evident in sunlight ... a good color for the right application, but I think not mine.

[After publishing this post, I've come back to make one additional comment. The black on the right above is the same black shown on the left below. The angle of light (the sun is off to the left behind me) makes them look like different colors ... much lighter below than above.]

So this weekend I'm getting Benjamin Moore's Salamander, a black green with a touch of olive, Behr's Forest (probably too green, though quite dark), and Sherwin Williams Charleston Green. It was interesting to find that, though Sherwin Williams no longer offers Charleston Green, the mix remains in their database of historic colors and can be made up at will.
I really think I'd like the color in the so-far anonymous garden image below, but I may never get it.

But is perfection necessary?

Garden at Federal Twist - 2011 Overview

Overview of 2011 at the Garden at Federal Twist, starting with the blank canvas after burning and cutting in March, to the height of growth in late June and July, the terrible early snow and ice storm in late September that squashed the garden flat (very unusual), to the colorful, abstract decline into fall and winter. Click on the photo.

Garden Diary: Adapting to reality

I'm pleased with the off-center symmetry of the evolving garden, and the interplay of the rectangles, quite pleased, actually. The axis runs off the center of the glass doors (that gold hardware has to go!), and will terminate at the back of the garden, in some way I have yet to determine--though I'm still haunted by Ross Hamilton's Italian ruin idea. (That piece of fence in front of the pool is construction detritus.)

I wish the pool were only 18 inches deep, as well as a foot shorter and two feet narrower, but I have to adapt to this oversized 4- by 9-foot monster (maybe I could make a hot tub ... just kidding). This pool poses a tripping hazard and could be dangerous, so I'll need to give attention to perimeter protection. I'm not sure how I'll do that, but part of the solution will be to add bluestone coping all around as a visual cue. Possibly some planting, pots on the coping, lighting at night ...

First change dictated by the unexpected spatial relationships? I'll have four trees, not six, in the graveled area, near the four corners. The long narrow pool I had planned would have allowed space for a third set of trees in the middle of the garden. But trees around this pool, as built, might narrow the passage sufficiently to cause visitors to walk unconsciously toward the pool, and possible injury. I also left 10 feet of open garden planting area in the back, substantially shortening the paved length of the garden. Best keep this area as open as possible, and direct foot traffic with square stepping stones or judiciously placed planting. Think boxwood and bergenia for starters.

I'm not displeased with this. I can work with it. And should I want koi (I don't), I can have them.

The next image demonstrates why I need a tree canopy, and fast. This is a very exposed site now that the 80-foot mulberry is gone (thanks to hurricane Irene).

I will need screening on both the left and right of the extension to break up the mass of the structure and to provide some privacy to anyone sitting in the bluestone area just outside the glass doors.

I think you can see here that multistemmed trunks, roughly in the four corners of the gravel rectangle, would be almost perfect, so I'm taking Michael's and Les' suggestions for Stewartia or Chionanthus retusus seriously. I'm also open to Billy Martin's Medlars, which I think would be a truly unique solution. Of course, my old favorite Sunburst honey locust (Peter Holt likes them too) remains if all else fails.

You can make out the view into the garden through the doors below even though they remain covered in protective plastic wrapping.

The buildings beyond, again, give you ample evidence of the need for quick cover (instant tree canopy). While this is a historic district, and the fronts of most houses are beautifully maintained with their original brownstone detail from the latter half of the nineteenth century, no one pays much attention to the backs!

And here an even better view of the back facades to be obscured across the block ...

A view from above, though much of the garden is cut off by the parapet of the extension roof ... Useful visual information for those not familiar with the structure of Brooklyn back yards (this is where the privy was when most of these houses were built; plumbing was a rarity in the early days). By the way, Spike Lee grew up in one of the houses off to the right.

The bluestone and gravel look quite blue late in the afternoon shadows, but the actual color is gray. I'm paying attention to these details in selecting the color to stain the fence.

A more true impression of the color of the gravel ... at least until we get a heavy rain.

The budget for all of this? Maddeningly, less than the cost of removing the fallen 80-foot mulberry!

Garden Diary: Trees for my small garden

Michael of The Gardener's Eye suggested I take a look at Luciano Giubbilei's use of limbed up Parrotia perscica in his 2011 Chelsea Flower Show garden, which won a Gold award. These twisting trunks (the image is from Giubbilei's web site) read like a masterful calligraphy, and lend a sense of repose, like motion caught out of time. Giubbilei talks about the garden in this BBC interview.

I really love these, but I can't wait 40 years at my age, and I certainly can't afford such carefully grown, old trees for my Brooklyn garden.

I've considered alternatives to the now final choice of Sunburst honey locust (Gleditsia triacanthos 'Sunburst'). The native grey birch (Betula populifolia), used extensively on the High Line, was an early contender.

It's a small native tree, and its white bark would look good with a high trimmed canopy. Here it is in winter.

As used on the High Line, it's very effective in creating secluded spaces and a naturalistic feeling in an otherwise very exposed and open environment.

It's trunk is attractive and the white color would provide a dramatic contrast in a shady garden (and mine will become more shady year by year).

Even if I trim the trunks high, the clumping form of the birch may take far too much space. And the birches can't match the locusts for stunning color.

Ultimately it's a matter of personal choice, and some chance, I suppose.

Garden Diary: Color ideas for fencing

I've found limited useful information in my Google photo searches, not nearly so much help as I got from the many comments on my last post on garden fence color.

Here is one dark color that works well with green. Of course, this is a wooded setting without the unsightly buildingscape I have surrounding my new garden. Will a color like this highlight the very view I want to de-emphasize? I like this effect, though I'd prefer a color with more gray/charcoal and less green. This is a rather dark color, but it has a surprisingly reflective surface, which increases the contrast with the dark green foliage of the plants.

Here's another similar color, but with more green. I prefer something closer to charcoal or gray.

Now this appears to be a black fence with a very flat, reflective surface. I definitely don't want this.

This putty gray color isn't bad. Not my preference right now, but something in this family may be an option. It would blend well with the surrounding building colors, and might make them less obvious.

I think the next step is to get samples and paint them on for an in situ test.

I've started a garden fence board on Pinterest (link on right side of this blog). If you have other examples, please let me know.

Garden Diary: Brooklyn garden progress

The fence is in.

Now what color? I'm thinking of Charleston Green, a green so dark it's almost black, a color I love in gardens. You see it all over Charleston, South Carolina. My one reservation is that such a dark color will absorb a lot of light, so possibly a stone color instead? I definitely don't want to leave the wood bare. Suggestions welcome.

This was the view toward the new extension a couple of weeks ago.

Now I need the contractor's help with more of the "heavy lifting." I gave him the rough plan below as a guide to installation of a few garden basics:  a 5-foot by 14-foot bluestone paved area outside the glass doors to capture drainage water, a start on the garden pool, a hole roughly 3.5 by 8.5 feet (in which I'll build the pool when spring comes), and a plan to lay geotextile fabric for weed suppression under a 3-inch gravel layer as the base of the garden floor (the gridded area on the plan).

The ground elevation rises a foot or more from the house to the back of the yard (there was an 80-foot-tall mulberry there until hurricane Irene came through last fall, so the high elevation at the back can't be changed). I asked the contractor to "step up" the fence if necessary, and to add timbers to terrace the garden, thus accommodating the changing elevation. I'd actually prefer two 6- or 8-inch rises, front by back, but I'll live with what is necessary to avoid the cost of moving a large volume of soil through the house for disposal. The black dots are likely locations for trees--probably Sunburst Honey Locust, but that still may change.

Next week I'll get my first look at the space from outside. With luck and good weather, the initial paving may be finished too.

No planting plans yet. I've thought over numerous design and planting options (here and here and here), and I believe I'll go with the grove of box woods under the trees with random, modular perennial plantings (exactly what that is will remain to be seen once I've had the opportunity to experience the garden in its formative stage). Of course, there may be new ideas, surprises.

Of course, I need to improve the soil (an entirely different approach from my Federal Twist garden), and I need piles of compost. But that's well in the future.

A Wall Like No Other: Giardino Borghese

We're having quite a mild winter this year ... so far. This morning I even saw hellebore flowers emerging just outside the living room window at Federal Twist. This unusual climate is, in a way, worse than a winter of heavy snow and howling winds, which would be more appropriate and comforting. I can imagine the pleasure of a roaring fire with a nor'easter blowing outside, but these unnatural warm spells make me think even more longingly of spring. We on the Northeast coast of the US know spring won't really come until well into May.

So I'm diverting myself with memories of a spring visit in Italy almost a decade ago. And I'm finding some surprises.

I took these photos at the Borghese Gardens with my first digital camera. In looking through them, and doing a little Internet research, I discovered a garden device I've never been aware of before.

It's kind of like a three-dimensional, paradisaical, stand in for the conventional wall. A way to separate public from private space that's elegant, delightful, and gentle--no hurt feelings because you're being kept out.

Cardinal Scipione Borghese began the Villa Borghese (now Galleria Borghese) and gardens in 1605 as a kind of 17th century party palace, a villa suburbana on what was then the outskirts of Rome. His uncle was Pope Paul V, so he had status, money, good connections and, I imagine, many "friends." The building was designed more to display his artworks (he was a patron of Bernini) than as a residential retreat. He had many other residences for that purpose.

So it was intended as a kind of spectacle, a place for display of art, good taste, the prizes of wealth, and appropriately, a good deal of attention was given to creating a rather spectacular garden setting, something to dazzle the Roman glitterati of the early 17th century.

From very early in its history the public was allowed access to the front gardens of the villa, and that tradition became so well established it continued for centuries. But the other side of the villa was private. The Villa Borghese handles the difference between public and private in a beautiful way. To assure that privacy, linear gardens extended out from either side of the main villa. These were not open to the public, and they prevented access to the private, backside of the villa.

Your can see the layout--like a giant baton--below (courtesy of Google Earth), clearly separating the public side in the lower part of the photo from the private area in the upper half--a much more attractive solution than a garden wall.

To the right is the Garden of Bitter Oranges (Gardino dei Melangoli). The oranges are planted in pots, and at the time I was there--the end of April--they were swimming in a sea of irises. All the gardens immediately surrounding the house are still quite formal and geometric. Interestingly, the surrounding Borghese Gardens were redesigned in the "English" style from the 18th into the 19th century, and clearly imitate an English landscape garden, in contrast to the baroque gardens immediately around the villa.

Functioning like a startlingly ornate, three-dimensional garden wall, the Gardino dei Melangoli blocks public access to the back of the villa, which as you can see below, has no grand staircase, only a simple entrance for private use. Here too the garden is very formal, with box parterres planted with bulbs and annuals for seasonal flower display.

This private garden was also used for display of sculpture, though the grandest sculpture was safely housed inside, where it was protected from the elements.

This portion of the garden, which opens to the larger (now "English" style) garden beyond, is amply proportioned and has wide gravel pathways. The sense of open space on this cool, sunny day was heightened by the feeling of enclosure, awakening a sense of an ancient open glade amid a forest of trees. Quite a contrast to the rather fussy flower plantings of the parterre.

Then at the other end of the villa is another linear garden, which also functions to separate the public from the private sides. This baroque aviary or vivarium was designed by Girolamo Rainaldi. John Evelyn called it "an Elysium of delight" in 1644 and wrote that the vivarium housed ostriches, peacocks, swans and cranes "and divers strange Beasts."

This is the other side of the vivarium. A second one was built later further down from the villa.

These last photos show that view looking out and walking away from the villa proper into the English landscape garden.

And eventually the gardens, located on the Pincio Hill, end at the Spanish Steps, where visitors can reenter the busy urban life of Rome.

Of course, I'd like to take some kind of lesson away from this, something that might further the development of my little garden in Brooklyn (not so far fetched; I recall seeing a brand of chewing gum in Italy with the name Brooklyn Bridge!). I suppose my lesson is that enclosure can actually create a sense of space by calling attention to its limits.

(I should credit Wikipedia for much of the historical information in this post, and for calling 

my attention to the public and private aspects of the original Villa Borghese.)

Roman spring

A recent comment from Ross Hamilton set me thinking about two "aquatic" features I remember with great fondness from visits to Rome ... Ross was writing about suggestions for an architectural feature in a masonry wall I had imagined constructing in my new Brooklyn garden ... "My only thought ... would be to have a screen that has a (large) architectural fragment at its centre, and perhaps at its base, a small pond? A fragment would fit nicely into the Brooklyn sense of place, I think. Think of moss and fern covered ruins in Italy."

I was feeling a little winter tired when I read this, and I immediately recalled two wonderful memories of Rome, even had these photos from my last visit to Rome, in 2003 (so long ago!) ... one at the Forum and another in the Vatican Museums, both of which seem to fit Ross' description of moss and fern covered ruins.

First the Forum, which was actually full of fascinating vegetation in early May ...

At the entrance to the Palatine Hill is this striking composition of ferns, mosses, a few callas, and I don't know what else, water seeping continually down through the mass of vegetation on rock. Is this a vertical garden from antiquity? I've always wondered whether this was created in more recent times, or perhaps started as a spring, its beauty recognized and "cultivated" over the centuries. It's quite large, maybe twenty or so feet tall, as I remember.

Whatever it is, it captured my fancy when I first saw it many years ago, long before I became a gardener, and has remained as a powerful visual memory. If you know anything about this "vegetable fountain," please let me know.

The other similar aquatic feature is in the Octagonal Courtyard in the Vatican Museums, the very courtyard where some of the most famous sculptures in western civilization reside--the Apollo Belvedere, the Laocoon ...

So this is how I interpret Ross' suggestion for my Brooklyn garden. Crazy, I suppose. So very out of place to my mind. Even if something like this could be created in our climate, would it ever seem right? But what a wonderful fantasy!