Phil and I first saw Marc Rosenquist's sculptures in his and Gail's garden a couple of months back and we immediately liked them. Gail said we should have one in our garden, so we went to look two weeks ago. It's in the picture below, though you can't see it, slightly to the left of center, at a focal point where the paths meet, a center of energy in the garden. (I'll tell the story of how it got to that spot in the garden in the future, when Gail sends the images of Mark and me maneuvering it into place, ...
... which wasn't easy. The piece is cast bronze, measures about 44 inches high and 36 inches across at the base, and must weigh in excess of 300 pounds). When I first saw it, a classical image of a beehive came to mind, thus the appropriateness to a naturalistic, pseudo-ecological garden, to use William Martin's (click 'Wigandia' if you don't know him) phrase, as adopted from someone (he thinks) in the UK. But the more I look at it in the garden, the less I think of a beehive. It's really quite abstract. Consider Marc's original name for it, 'Pay Dirt'.
Doesn't really look like this one, does it?
No. Abstract is better. Let it be suggestive of something else if you wish, or see it on its own terms.
It appears and vanishes as you walk around the garden. From some points of view, very prominent, from others, almost invisible.
All these photos were made in the bright light of morning, on a very hot July 5. Below it takes on a dark solidity in contrast to the brightly backlit Filipendula rubra 'Venusta', Panicum virgatum 'Shenandoah', and Calamagrostis acutiflora 'Karl Foerster'.
Or viewed from the other side, through Molinia caerulea 'Transparent'.
It appears to take on a blueish cast seen with the glaucous foliage of Rudbeckia maxima.
Or maybe R2D2 hiding in the bushes?
It's totally invisible from the path on the western side of the garden.
Even when it's not visible, the pictures provide useful context for an object that isn't garden, in the garden.
In hiding...
Completing the circle of the garden path, approaching the starting point, where it's only a few feet from the path... I have to say I feel this piece was made for this garden. Ironic, because Marc cast it 20 years ago, when this garden was a rough cedar wood.
And the rest is context.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Sunday, July 04, 2010
A talk with Beth Chatto
I'm late mentioning two new podcasts from Gardens Illustrated. I found myself in my own pond in waders this weekend, so I picked this photo as appropriate to the time.
In these two podcasts, Beth Chatto, the English model for gardeners devoted to using the right plant in the right place, to learning about where a plant originates, how it lives in community with other plants, and how to put that knowledge to use in the garden, talks with Alan Titchmarsh in a diverting conversation of a little over an hour. She describes the beginning of her interest in gardening through her husband's obsession with the origins of plants, and how her garden and nursery developed as an outgrowth of that passion. Click here for Part 1, and here for Part 2. You can download copies of the podcasts by right clicking on the links and selecting Save link as from the list (if you're on a PC). Or simply go to the Gardens Illustrated website.
In these two podcasts, Beth Chatto, the English model for gardeners devoted to using the right plant in the right place, to learning about where a plant originates, how it lives in community with other plants, and how to put that knowledge to use in the garden, talks with Alan Titchmarsh in a diverting conversation of a little over an hour. She describes the beginning of her interest in gardening through her husband's obsession with the origins of plants, and how her garden and nursery developed as an outgrowth of that passion. Click here for Part 1, and here for Part 2. You can download copies of the podcasts by right clicking on the links and selecting Save link as from the list (if you're on a PC). Or simply go to the Gardens Illustrated website.
Labels:
Alan Titchmarsh,
Beth Chatto,
Gardens Illustrated
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Extensive gardening: making the best of necessity
Gardening a large area of over an acre, only on weekends, and on unpropitious heavy wet clay, allows no time for intensive gardening, for achieving perfect edgings, astonishingly designed set pieces, carefully manicured, intensively maintained lawns and perennial borders. My gardening is of the extensive kind, much more like farming, and the limited time I have available, what with the exigencies of variable weather, often means moving from one problem to the next, and learning to live with some roughness around the edges. Who said naturalistic gardening is not labor intensive? Here are some photos showing what's happened in the past week, along with visible signs of necessary extensive maintenance.
Never having attended to planting at the top of the stone wall, I needed to kill bindweed and poison ivy that had become entwined with the existing plants. No getting around general destruction. Roundup (used very judiciously, in targeted areas, shown below) killed all growth at the edge, though I did manage to save one large Sanguisorba tenuifolia. Now to wait and see if it killed the roots of these two pestilential plants.
Selective cutting of the meadow grasses has begun (below). I do this after the wildflowers have gone to seed, and to reduce competition with preferred grasses and perennials--panicums, Filipendula ulmaria, Japanese and Siberian irises, Silphium perfoliatum. When time permits and materials are available, I want to add a small, one-person path wandering through this area, giving access to the pond side off to the left, and keeping the feet above the ever present wet from fall through early summer. Here is another example of extensive maintenance: the cuttings are left on the ground, to decompose in place, and over time, to increase the organic content of my mostly mineral clay. No time for nasty neat.
View across the garden. A 30-foot-long planting of Filipendula rubra 'Venusta' is in bloom on the right; the pink color looks rather faded in the bright afternoon light, but I grow this plant mostly for the sharply angular, almost chartreuse foliage, and for its vigor in my difficult soil. Sanguisorbas, Joe Pye Weed, Iris virginica in the foreground, further back Rudbeckia maxima, Lysimachia ciliata 'Firecracker', more irises. Most of this will be burned in late winter--another labor saving practice, and it's good for the grasses.
Looking across the pond, obscured by plant growth, toward the miscanthus bank, with the strip of intentional devastation caused by glyphosate. In the foreground is Panicum 'Heavy Metal' and 'Cloud Nine', more Silphium perfoliatum, Ligularia Japonica about to bloom at the front. The miscanthus makes a very good, though quite large, ground cover, helping keep undesirable plants under control.
More views of the filipendula, since it's the floral "star" of the moment. I'll like it much better when the pink fades to more subtle copper tones.
We've had increasing heat, without much rain, which is sending these Silphium laciniatum rocketing skyward (these are about eight feet tall now). They must have put on three feet of growth in the past week. These plants always flop when they get too tall. I'm hoping the lack of water will make them strong enough to stand on their own this year. We'll see; thunderstorms are predicted for today.
The silphium with more Rudbeckia maxima and Vernonia fasiculata. The ground surface shows where I've cut a path for walking through the plants (wide enough for one lone person). Yet another project is to add a gravel surface to make the path permanent.
Close-up of the silphium ...
Never having attended to planting at the top of the stone wall, I needed to kill bindweed and poison ivy that had become entwined with the existing plants. No getting around general destruction. Roundup (used very judiciously, in targeted areas, shown below) killed all growth at the edge, though I did manage to save one large Sanguisorba tenuifolia. Now to wait and see if it killed the roots of these two pestilential plants.
Selective cutting of the meadow grasses has begun (below). I do this after the wildflowers have gone to seed, and to reduce competition with preferred grasses and perennials--panicums, Filipendula ulmaria, Japanese and Siberian irises, Silphium perfoliatum. When time permits and materials are available, I want to add a small, one-person path wandering through this area, giving access to the pond side off to the left, and keeping the feet above the ever present wet from fall through early summer. Here is another example of extensive maintenance: the cuttings are left on the ground, to decompose in place, and over time, to increase the organic content of my mostly mineral clay. No time for nasty neat.
View across the garden. A 30-foot-long planting of Filipendula rubra 'Venusta' is in bloom on the right; the pink color looks rather faded in the bright afternoon light, but I grow this plant mostly for the sharply angular, almost chartreuse foliage, and for its vigor in my difficult soil. Sanguisorbas, Joe Pye Weed, Iris virginica in the foreground, further back Rudbeckia maxima, Lysimachia ciliata 'Firecracker', more irises. Most of this will be burned in late winter--another labor saving practice, and it's good for the grasses.
Looking across the pond, obscured by plant growth, toward the miscanthus bank, with the strip of intentional devastation caused by glyphosate. In the foreground is Panicum 'Heavy Metal' and 'Cloud Nine', more Silphium perfoliatum, Ligularia Japonica about to bloom at the front. The miscanthus makes a very good, though quite large, ground cover, helping keep undesirable plants under control.
More views of the filipendula, since it's the floral "star" of the moment. I'll like it much better when the pink fades to more subtle copper tones.
We've had increasing heat, without much rain, which is sending these Silphium laciniatum rocketing skyward (these are about eight feet tall now). They must have put on three feet of growth in the past week. These plants always flop when they get too tall. I'm hoping the lack of water will make them strong enough to stand on their own this year. We'll see; thunderstorms are predicted for today.
The silphium with more Rudbeckia maxima and Vernonia fasiculata. The ground surface shows where I've cut a path for walking through the plants (wide enough for one lone person). Yet another project is to add a gravel surface to make the path permanent.
Close-up of the silphium ...
No time for raking gravel back into place after storms or other disasters, thus the borders of rock (native, of course) to keep all in place. Eventually there may be ground covering plants bordering the path, but only as time permits, and only if nature cooperates. I don't mind the grasses.
Another vigorous plant that helps with spotty maintenance. Eupatorium cannibinum, a European eupatorium, seeds itself around, eventually making large masses if left to itself, but easily pulled out if not wanted. It obscures a multitude of sins. Here it's just coming into bloom.
Another useful plant, for the water's edge, that makes a lovely mass of color, shape and texture--Pontadera cordata. It's vigorous enough to outcompete the weeds.
Much of my approach to extensive maintenance, in case you haven't noticed, is to use large, rather highly competitive plants, which just happen to be well suited to my conditions. Here the plants appear to be eating the house.
Miscanthus, willows, river birch - they cover a lot of ground.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Light and shadow
Late Sunday afternoon, the day before the longest day of the year, the play of changing light and shadow makes photography difficult. But it's a glorious time to be in the garden.
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