Marc Rosenquist's bronze is most prominent in late winter when all the herbaceous perennials and grasses have been burned and cleared away, leaving a flat, largely empty field. Ironically, it becomes even more important in the summer, when the rapid plant growth makes it increasingly hard to see.
As the plants grow around it like a slowly rising flood, its fat, vertical presence becomes the focal point of the garden, a point of reference that plays with one's sense of scale--it's much larger than you think it is--making perception of relative sizes more ambiguous, but at the same time making it easier to judge distances, actually making space more visible. I guess you could say it introduces a perceptual playfulness into the garden.
It's so different from anything else, it exudes a sense of mystery. It seems both alien and at home, dramatically contrasting with the soft plant materials, yet echoing their shapes in permanent form.
The color is very different from the colors of the plants (at this time of year), but it's the same as the color of the house and the stone walls and the bark of the trees pressing in at the edge of the garden.
Mounded leaves of Silphium terebinthinaceum (Prairie dock) and Rudbeckia maxima have similar size and shape, though I think their similarities actually highlight their differences.
Even the lacy verticals of Poison hemlock (Conium maculatum) and Mullein (Verbascum thapsus) share similar visual resonance with the bronze, though they are certainly very different in form.
Do I go too far if I relate the bronze sculpture to my circle of red logs amid tall cedars (Juniperus virginiana)? I don't think so. If you see curves and lines in the abstract, just about anything in the garden relates to this object. Like musical theme and variations, thematic statement and answer.
Likewise the mounds of Miscanthus, daylilies ...
... the rounded box balls ... and across the path, the more generic mounds of mixed perennials with emerging spikes of Filipendula rubra, Silphium perfoliatum, Salix alba 'britzensis' and Thuja in the background.
... even the purplish color of the Lysimachia ciliata 'Firecrecker' relates to the browns of the sculpture.
Moving away from that central point, the rising path beside the pond goes off into the woodland garden ...
... where a turn back shows you the wide prairie field ...
... and in the middle of it all, Marc's sculpture, still visible from a distance ...
That bronze works in so many ways, being a particularly organic shape. The thing is, I always enjoy your tours of a special creation, your garden. Talk about abundance. It's positively brimming, and the starting point is form. Your planting is masterful and you should open to the public!
ReplyDeleteA question. Is your topsoil a great depth, or is their hard pan some way down?
I thank you for your kind comments. I'd like to be masterful at something, though I'm not sure it's planting. I certainly don't do the finely detailed planting plans Piet Oudolf creates; so much seems to be done by guesswork and chance, though I admit to putting a lot of study into how to make this kind of garden. As to your question about my topsoil, I'm not sure I have topsoil in the traditional sense. It's heavy, usually wet, clay. No hard pan, but something similar: many rocks, and an unusual subsurface geology (rock layer) that inhibits recharge of rainfall into the ground. Water tends to pool on the surface in heavy rain, and linger for a day or two afterward. The best drained part of the garden is over the septic leaching field (opposite end from the pond; actually the top few photos are over the leaching field), which has a thick layer of gravel a couple of feet under the surface. I'd like to open the garden to the public so I can get some feedback from people interested in gardens, but I live in the woods, so there aren't many people around. The only option would be the Garden Conservancy Open Days tours, but they don't seem to be interested in this kind of garden.
ReplyDelete(more fool them!) I'd certainly come to visit your garden, if I could.
ReplyDeleteIf you ever plan a trip to the NYC area, let me know. I hoped to travel to South Africa next February with friends, but unfortunately the trip didn't work out. I hope some day to be able to see your amazing flora.
ReplyDeleteJames,
ReplyDeleteI would come and see your garden too. Yes, it may be true that the majority of gardens on the GC tours are more structured than yours but surely yours is more relevant. Have they actually turned you down?
BTW, what is that plant in your fourth picture with the long, cupped leaves?
Ailsa
Clearly, or scarcely, visible, having a target such as Marc Rosenquist's bronze orientates the garden, or orientates the viewer within it. Like a fly that's landed in the web of your garden, it can either lure the eye or fool the eye by camouflage. Good that it will continue to intrigue you James.
ReplyDeleteAilsa, they visited once after a huge storm washed away all the bark paths. Now the paths are permanent gravel. I think they never say no, they just say they need to have a group of gardens in your vicinity. Maybe I'll ask them back, but I do know there is a preference for "estate" gardens or more formal, traditional ones. (On second and third thought, do I really want that?) The plant you asked about is Inula racemosa, which I believe is highly recommended by Wolfgang Oehme. It self-seeds profusely and is great for a prairie style planting. I love it. It's a funny plant, sort of a cartoon plant, with the big floppy leaves and a lot of personality. You never know where they'll come up, but it's easy to pull out the ones you don't want. Later they put up a tall flower stalk with yellow daisy flowers.
ReplyDeleteFaisal, I like your web analogy. Perhaps it waits like a spider. Ha!
ReplyDeletePerceptual playfulness - I like that!
ReplyDeleteBest
R
In the lush growth, it's almost like the tip of a bomb poking through! Or a giant bee skep. The power to me derives from the naturalistic planting and then just this one mysterious striated object that seems to promise the genesis of something new. Seed capsule, egg? I love how this works in your landscape.
ReplyDeleteHi James
ReplyDeleteI think Faisal is spot on. It's about orientation as well. I wondered whether you consider this sculpture masculine or feminine?
Denise, or a rocket bursting through the earth! Bomb? How appropriate to or times.
ReplyDeleteRob, I think I was on your site while you were leaving a comment. I haven't thought about it in terms of gender. Don't consider it either manly or womanly, more as an alien visitor, or an object from outer space, though I suppose if pressed I'd go for feminine.
ReplyDeleteYour sculpture is not dissimilar too http://williammartinswigandiaagardenofthesun.blogspot.com/2011/06/ww2-german-sea-mine.html
ReplyDeleteI like that. You have a German mine in your garden. Denise says mine (ha!) looks like a bomb!
ReplyDeletemine (no pun) is of the sea though! I don't view it as menacing though..more a peace offering!
ReplyDeleteSpeaking as someone who believes that sculpture should used very, very sparingly indeed, I'd say that the bronze object is just about perfect in its place. I wish I had the flair to be able to do that.
ReplyDeleteStructure is important in some garden designs, but in those closest to my heart, the most telling structure must come from the plants themselves. And I love the language your plants are speaking.
I agree sculpture in the garden should take "second place" to the garden itself, and this one does that. It seems almost plant like, with its organic shape, and it works with the shapes and structures of the plants, many of which are large, with their own very dramatic forms.
ReplyDeleteMmmm PMN a fair comment and you probably would not like Little Sparta! The trouble with sculpture is it is often at odds with the garden..I have a scattering in my own garden but they tend to be mere hints rather than bold statements.
ReplyDeleteThe concept of 'garden' is changing though and i suspect once we baby boomers get the hell out of here the garden will be quite a different concept.
Mmmm if you think it should have 'second place' i don't understand why you have it at all..what a strange statement!
ReplyDeleteYour words push me to think about what I said. Perhaps a poor choice of words. I agree that sculpture can be "often at odds with the garden," to use your words. By "second place," I mean not overpowering the rest of the garden, having a sense of belonging, nothing more than that. Not turning the garden into an outdoor exhibit space. Of course, there are very successful gardens with much sculpture, like Little Sparta (which I don't really feel qualified to speak about since I've never been there). But my feeling from seeing pictures and reading about it and IHF is that the sculpture and architecture are absolutely integral to the garden, that perhaps LS isn't even a garden in the traditional sense of the garden, but "garden and more than garden" all at the same time. Or it IS a garden but one with levels of meaning, and with and historical, cultural, political, and aesthetic resonances rarely seen in gardens. It's an attempt to create IHF's own world, a work of art, not a garden containing works of art.
ReplyDeleteAh words!Understood.
ReplyDeleteL.S. is a garden is a garden is a garden. I am however amused that many (Kingsbury and Wareham included) seem to think the garden (read the green bits etc) ain't up to speed. I totally disagree as i can see a garden of great understatement and definition all in one..I like to think Ian created his version of 'garden' in response to the often over contrived English model. I would go further and call it 'ungarden' an area/concept I play with too.
James, Nowhere else in netdom have I found individuals prepared to question/discuss this level of stuff and i must commend you for allowing/facilitating it on your blog. I am now fresh out of words!
ReplyDeletelove all that miscanthus in the garden... very pretty.
ReplyDeleteBilly, glad I can "facilitate" discussion. I'm fortunate not to be in the business, so am free to discuss anything legal. (I never thought I'd find you "out of words.")
ReplyDeleteI love the form of Miscanthus. And it loves my wet clay. One reason I have so much.
ReplyDeleteHey where are the FLOWERS!
ReplyDeleteSadly the many to be found talking stuff up in the garden world are firmly in the biz for the biz..I took a short road to blog 'Gardening gone wild' the other day and quickly realized it ain't wild at all but a consortium of sellers most of which I would rate as quite lame! Sell sell sell...
L.S. is a garden is a garden is a garden. I am however amused that many (Kingsbury and Wareham included) seem to think the garden (read the green bits etc) ain't up to speed. I totally disagree as i can see a garden of great understatement and definition all in one..I like to think Ian created his version of 'garden' in response to the often over contrived English model. I would go further and call it 'ungarden' an area/concept I play with too.
ReplyDeleteIn reality much of Ian's garden is in the Naturalistic style but his version of it not one that is trying to conform or play in the 'prairie' arena.It is a garden that is gentle on the environment..perhaps i will coin a new tag 'Gentlenvironment' ..the way to go..Now i will write 20 books on the subject!
Green is the word that comes to mind when I look at your garden - is no colour allowed.
ReplyDeleteGreen is a color, in fact, many colors. It's a late summer/fall garden; there will be other colors.
ReplyDeletejames do you grow bronze fennel? I would not allow Hemlock in a pink fit..a mouthful will kill a horse and the rank smell of the plant is death itself!
ReplyDeleteI do grow bronze fennel, but in the drier areas. I've never gotten it to grow where the hemlock is. I love the bronze fennel and will give ti another try. But I like my hemlock. Who knows what the future holds. It may come in handy. I don't know the "rank smell" in my garden. Perhaps the growing environment (wet, more moderate temps that you have, I'd guess) make it behave differently here.
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