Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Some Like It Potted




As the weather warms, many gardeners focus their attention on creating colorful displays in pots, window boxes, and other planters. Indeed, for city dwellers or those who live in apartments, containers may provide the only outlet for their horticultural passions. When it comes to selecting outdoor containers, I generally operate under two assumptions; bigger is better and less is more. Small pots have numerous disadvantages. In the heat of the summer they dry out quickly, making it almost impossible to keep up with watering. They also limit the choice of plant material and thus the potential impact of any given composition.

For the purist faux containers will probably always be unacceptable. But for those who would rather not lug heavy stone urns into the garage every winter or for whom budgetary restrictions prohibit purchasing wrought iron, I find fiberglass imitations to be every bit as satisfactory. In recent years the introduction of fiberglass and plastic simulations of stone, clay, and iron has produced a wide selection of lightweight and frost resistant alternatives. The quality of these reproductions has arguably rendered the originals functionally obsolete.

Last fall, an interior designer, who was relocating to Palm Beach, generously gave me two enormous, ornate urns that were copied from a pair found at an English manor house. Because they are made of fiberglass-reinforced clay, I can leave them outside all winter. Even without plantings they add a pleasing sculptural element to the field and garden.

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As with the garden proper, the success of a planter is largely dependent on the quality of the soil one uses. Container plants tend to be heavy feeders. Recently, potting soil manufactures have taken the guesswork out of this problem by adding time-released fertilizers to their products. Many claim to feed for up to three months. Ever the cynic, after searching for a date on the package, I found myself wondering “three months from when”? If in doubt, water regularly with a diluted liquid fertilizer.

Choosing plants for your containers has become more interesting in recent years. Many nurseries and box stores now carry a wonderful selection of annuals and tropicals for both sun and shade. When assembling your own compositions, however, don’t be led astray by the luscious photographs in many of today’s gardening magazines. Though it requires a skilled eye, it isn’t difficult to make a pot look beautiful for a photo shoot. I always wonder how these artful arrangements will look in a week or so when the delphiniums or other perennial showstoppers have finished blooming. In reality many of these designs are nothing more than glorified flower arrangements. Unless you plan on reworking your pots every few weeks, I would avoid using such photos as a template.

In general, I advocate a simple approach to selecting plant material for containers. Most importantly, I choose specimens that will provide at least three months of flower or foliage impact. Because most plants that tolerate cool weather flounder in the summer heat, I redo my urns three times a year. Here in the Northeast the first planting takes place in early April, the second after the fourth of July, and the third before Halloween. When planting a large urn for the summer months, I usually build the design around a tall, central focal point, often tree formed or topiaried. Hibiscus and Oleander are good choices, but there are many others as well. I surround this central element with mid-height flowering plants, usually restricting my choice to two varieties, perhaps lantana and dwarf dahlias. Finally, I add trailing plants like scaevola , ivy leaved geranium, and helichrysum to soften the edges of the container. As with a garden, I always consider color scheme before making my final choices.

The urn pictured at the top of this page, which I planted for a client last week, is filled with blue pansies, pale whitish-pink osteospermum and a single gold sword yucca, all of which can tolerate light frost. The yucca, which is hardy, can be transplanted to the garden if I choose to replace it in the summer. While many garden catalogues suggest using dwarf flowering shrubs in containers, I usually avoid hardy shrubs and perennials because for the most part their season of bloom is simply too short. On the other hand, one of the great advantages to planting urns is that it’s easy to empty the container and start from scratch.

Here in Seekonk, the gardens are really getting underway.























Every fall I plant a few hundred daffodil bulbs so that I can enjoy the flowers in the garden and still have enough to cut a few for the house.



I was most excited to see that the Rheum Palmatum var Tanguticum that I planted near the pond made it through its first winter. This plant, which is an ornamental rhubarb, has enormous leaves with a beautiful red reverse. I thought it would look particularly striking reflected in the water and am looking forward to seeing it reach it's full size this season.

Happy Spring!



Saturday, April 4, 2009

The Color Wheel Goes Round And Round



A number of years ago a client asked me to design a large perennial border at her home in Darien, Connecticut. While there was nothing unusual about her request, I was somewhat taken aback by her choice of color scheme. The client, a prominent New York physician with very particular taste, indicated that her garden should be composed of exclusively red and yellow flowers. This was in the mid-90’s and at the time I was designing in mostly pinks, whites, blues, and soft yellows. Only rarely did I incorporate reds or oranges and then purely for shock value. In fact most well known gardening catalogues like White Flower Farm featured predominately pastel hues. This of course predated the resurgence of interest in tropical plants like dahlias and cannas, most of which had fallen out of fashion following the Victorian era.

Always up for a challenge, I set to work on my client’s garden. With her approval I expanded the palette somewhat, eventually incorporating orange and dark purple. And in addition to flowering plants, I added a number of species with brightly colored foliage, including a low hedge comprised of alternating groups of dwarf, red and yellow leaved barberry (a plant that unfortunately is now listed as an invasive). To my surprise I was exceedingly pleased with the outcome. So much so, in fact, that some years later I installed the hot colored garden at my home here in Seekonk.

I realized in the course of designing the Darien garden, and in subsequent years of practice and observation, that the relative success of a design is not necessarily dependent on the color scheme one chooses. After all, color preference is decidedly subjective. It is crucial, however, to consciously decide on a color scheme and adhere to that selection. And while there are many rules, color wheels etc. that may be used as a guide, the truth is that almost any number of colors can be combined successfully. Lately I’ve been fantasizing about creating an orange and magenta garden, but haven’t found the right location yet.

When it comes to color choice, I often ask my clients to consider the mood they would like to create. Pastels or monochromatic color schemes tend to produce peaceful landscapes. Alternatively, hot or contrasting colors command attention and generate visual excitment. It should come as no surprise that Zen gardens, which are made for meditation, are characteristically devoid of color, relying exclusively on the muted tones of sand and rock.

At my home in Seekonk, I am orchestrating an evolving color scheme. The entry garden is composed of welcoming colors; pale yellows, pinks and blues. On the other side of the house the plantings surprise and titillate with a contrasting palette. Reds, oranges, and yellows dominate and their juxtaposition is visually stimulating. Leaving this burst of color behind, a short flight of stairs leads down to a blue and white garden. Its atmosphere is restful and somehow the colors seem to make the air feel ten degrees cooler. It is here, soothed by the sound of water splashing in the lily pond, that guests tend to gather on hot summer days.

Here in Seekonk the daffodils are just starting to pop and many of the perennials are showing signs of growth. The new beds that lead out into the field are edged and raked smooth in preparation for seeding annuals next month. I've started dividing some of my perennials, the roses are fed and once it stops raining I'll trim the butterfly bushes and caryopteris. Even though I didn't mulch the gardens last fall, so far I haven't noticed any casualties, which is a big relief. The handful of goldfish, that I tossed into the farm pond last spring, have multiplied at an alarming rate and I can only hope that the resident great blue heron decides to dine at my table soon.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Water, Water everywhere....



In recent years water features have gained popularity in mainstream residential landscaping and rightly so. Almost no other element adds as much sensory pleasure to the outdoor experience. Whether it’s the sparkle of light on its surface or the cooling sound of splashing on a hot summer’s day, nothing else soothes the senses like moving water. Then of course, for the more horticulturally minded, there is a whole range of beautiful aquatic plants and marginals (plants that grow in mud or very shallow water) to choose from.

Here in my Seekonk display gardens, I have two man-made water features. The first, which I installed with the aid of a landscape contractor ten years ago, is a ten by twenty foot rectangular pool. The pool, which is planted with white water lilies, serves as the centerpiece of my Blue and White garden. The coping for this pool is pressure treated lumber capped with boards that I removed from the old paddock fencing that once bisected the property. The second water feature, which I installed last year (also with the help of a landscape contractor), is twenty feet in diameter and roughly circular. Sited on the other side of the house, it is centered in a patch of field in which I had originally planted a number of apple trees. Unfortunately, a few winters ago, all but four of the trees were girdled by voles and subsequently died. I refer to this newer feature as my “farm pond”. My hope is that, as it matures, it will look like one of those marshy wallows found in cow pastures. Unlike the rectangular pond it has no coping. Instead the open expanse of water is surrounded by a shelf of mud, retained with a combination of steel fencing and filter fabric topped with pieces of turf. The pond is set into a slope and, as the grade rises, the soil becomes drier, allowing me to grow a whole range of marginal plants including Japanese iris, a particular favorite.

The current popularity of residential water features may be attributed in part to the availability of inexpensive, preformed, plastic pond liners and sheets of synthetic rubber, which make the construction of backyard ponds both affordable and relatively simple. Unfortunately this ease of installation has led to the proliferation of water features that resemble miniature golf courses follies. On a garden tour a few summers ago I encountered a fifteen-foot naturalistic, rock waterfall in the center of a completely level circular driveway. Now I’ll admit that every garden relies on a bit fantasy. Still, I often wonder, when I come across this type of water feature, if the homeowner finds the effect convincing. And while I certainly understand the appeal of gazing out the window at a babbling brook, the fact is that on a flat, suburban lot it’s practically impossible to create a naturalistic water feature that doesn’t look like a Disney Land exhibit. Even odder are the rock edged, kidney-shaped, prefabricated pools one often finds set in the ground near an otherwise conventional front door. Here again, the incongruous size, shape, and location of the pond are at once peculiar and unconvincing.

This is not to argue that people, who live in a city or the suburbs, should deprive themselves of the joyful sound of splashing water or the allure of water lily blossoms. Instead of constructing an obviously faux steam or waterfall, why not install a water feature that looks unabashedly man-made? Forgo the kidney-shaped liner edged with rocks and build a circular or square pond framed with a brick or bluestone coping. A pump can still be used to create a jet of splashing water. Lilies and other aquatics will grow just as well and the goldfish will never know the difference. In fact, the overall affect will be more believable and therefore more visually satisfying.

On the home front, here in Seekonk the weather is windy and cold. Nevertheless, the crocuses and snowdrops are blooming and the daffodils against the house are about to open. I’ve re-edged and cleaned all of my beds, cutting back the grasses and perennials along with the thyme in the checkerboard patio. I’ve also pruned many of my shrubs and even some of the sturdier roses, though I’m still waiting for warmer weather before I trim the buddleias, hydrangeas, and caryopteris. I’ve also started some annual seeds under grow lights in my basement in hopes that by May 15th they’ll be ready to plant out of doors. Last week the field was cut and, as is always the case in early spring, I’m hopeful that this year the garden will be more beautiful than ever.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Mass Appeal


The other day I was giving a consultation to a new client, who had questions about the layout of her backyard. As we strolled toward the perimeter of her sizeable property, she paused at a new planting of large rhododendrons and other shrubs that she had moved from the front the house. Her goal, she explained, was to screen out her neighbor’s adjoining yard. I thought her decision was a good one, but questioned the placement of the shrubs. Instead of massing the rhododendrons together, they were spread throughout the bed. The spaces between them were filled with single specimens or pairs of various other smaller bushes. Upon reflection I realized that I often encounter this type of planting. In fact I have dubbed it the “one of these, one of those” approach to landscape design. And while I understand the thought process that leads to such arrangements, the outcome rarely produces either a satisfactory screen or a visually pleasing composition.

With the exception of the Amazonian rainforest, a unique environment in which the diversity of plant species is high but individual density is low, most ecosystems are composed of species growing in large contiguous groups. In Bennington, Vermont for example, the woodland floor is literally carpeted with hundreds of white trillium in the spring. And in the fields of the northeast, swaths of yellow goldenrod herald the onset of fall. Perhaps even more quintessentially autumnal are the stands of brilliantly colored maples, birches, and oaks, their leaves showing to great effect against groves of dark-needled pine. These species occur en masse for one simple reason. Natural resources are limited and rival species must compete with their neighbors for sunlight, water, and nutrients. In cultivation hedging provides an excellent example of this phenomenon. A single hemlock placed in the middle of a yard will eventually become a towering tree with branches that discourage the growth of other plants in their vicinity. A row of small hemlocks, however, planted four feet apart can easily be trained into hedge. Because the hedge is composed of a single species, its members do not adversely compete with each other. Conversely, if a hemlock were planted four feet from a maple, eventually one of the trees would assume dominance to the detriment of the other.

In addition to satisfying cultural requirements and general ease of maintenance, incorporating mass plantings in a residential landscape design is aesthetically advantageous. Undoubtedly, a number of hydrangeas in full bloom have a more dazzling affect than that produced by a single bush. As a component in the landscape, large groupings also create a more restful composition. Plantings comprised entirely of dissimilar species appear busy and visually confusing. This is because, whether consciously or unconsciously, the viewer must continually assess the differences in height, color and texture. That is why rolling fields, which read as a simple sea of green, tend to have a calming effect on the viewer. And why large perennial borders are often seen to best advantage when backed by a hedge, which provides a continuous green foil for the garden’s various colors and textures.

Of course there are times when a lone specimen can be used to great advantage. As a focal point in the landscape, a single tree or shrub captures the viewer’s attention. In a perennial or shrub border a single specimen creates visual excitement. Of course, a planting composed entirely of competing focal elements would be as jarring as a sentence punctuated with too many exclamations points. Likewise, pairs work much in the same way as parentheses. Whether flanking a doorway or the breadth of a property, a pair of identical plants highlights the elements it frames.

Though it maybe challenging to narrow your selection of plant material, particularly when confronted by the range of choices at the local nursery, the next time you are designing a new planting take a cue from nature. Instead of selecting “one of these and one of those”, try incorporating a large mass of a single species.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

A Matter Of Proportion


After a slew of relatively warm days, winter has returned to the northeast with somewhat of a vengeance, burying my newly sprouted crocuses and daffodils beneath six inches of snow. The snowfall has also delayed work on a pair of beds I plan to install here in my display gardens. The beds will flank both sides of a grass path, which leads from a wooden arch to a large urn standing in a field that abuts the wildlife sanctuary. I haven’t yet decided what to plant in these beds, though peonies are on the top of my list. This spring I will probably fill them with annuals grown from seed, which I’ll plant directly in the ground. Masses of Zinnias, Sunflowers, and Cosmos will provide plenty of cut flowers for the house this summer, while affording me the benefit of another season to make a more permanent choice.

The other day, as I was standing in the field deciding on the exact width and length of my new beds, I recalled a conversation I often have with new clients. The topic concerned the layout of foundation beds, the planting area that customarily frames the façade of the house. In truth, more often then not, I find that most foundation beds are both oddly shaped and inappropriately proportioned. Invariably these beds are too narrow. Moreover, their confines are crowded with ungainly shrubs that have been ruthlessly pruned in an attempt to keep their branches within bounds. Trees and shrubs, that were originally planted to create a flattering frame, block windows and conceal architectural details, making the house appear smaller and less welcoming.

Of course there are no set rules. The width of foundation beds ultimately depends on the size of the house and the yard. For most residential properties, however, I find that a ratio of one-third bed to two-thirds lawn is generally a good starting point. To further ensure that that the foundation beds are large enough, it is helpful to allow room for two or more tiers of plantings. The back tier might include evergreens to provide year-round interest. The middle tier could contain groupings of lower, flowering shrubs to add bursts of seasonal color. If there is still space, a front tier might be planted with low-growing ground covers to border the lawn.

Allotting on average four to six feet for each of these tiers requires a bed that measures at least 12 feet deep. Even this depth, however, might prove to be to narrow. Often a width of eighteen to twenty feet is more suitable if the house and property are large. And if flowering trees or evergreens are used to accent the corners of the house, they should be spaced to ensure that, as they mature, their branches won’t encroach on the house. Installing foundation plantings should make your home seem larger and more gracious. Trees or shrubs that hide portions of the facade will have the opposite effect.

Equally important when laying out your beds is determining their shape. In my experience many homes are framed by beds that curve about the property with no apparent rhyme or reason. In fact, cutting a bed actually creates two shapes, the silhouette of the bed and the resulting outline of the lawn. In many cases I find that, while the footprint of the beds might seem reasonable, the resulting lawn area is rather peculiar, as if someone had arbitrarily dropped a puzzle piece on the ground and filled it with grass. If after laying out the beds, the resulting lawn is not a pleasant shape, the overall affect won’t be pleasing.

In general, a few gracefully proportioned arcs are more visually satisfying than a number of random crenulations. As a rule of thumb, the curves of the beds should be easy to follow with a conventional lawn mower. If they aren’t, the curves are probably too numerous or tight. Once the layout of the beds is finalized, it’s time to focus on plant selection, but more on that topic another time….

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Compositionally Speaking


Merce Cunningham, the renowned twentieth century choreographer, famously compared his dancers to tubes of paint. While this comparison may not have flattered the egos of his company members, it served to clearly illustrate his philosophy regarding composition. His goal was to focus the audience’s attention on his choreography, not on the personalities of the individual dancers. Many a garden could benefit from the application of similar principles.

If we take our clues from nature, it is not usually the individual elements, but rather the overall composition that creates an inspiring visual experience. The viewer takes pleasure from the pale green of rolling fields backed by a darker mass of undulating forest, not from concentrating on a patch of grass or a single tree. It is the effect in its entirety that creates a pleasing landscape, not the analysis of its disparate elements. Of course, few of us have the luxury of working on such a grand scale. Nevertheless, the same principles can be applied on the residential level. And as with a dance, the outcome is more satisfying when the stage isn’t cluttered with competing soloists.

I often find myself disappointed by the photos of display gardens presented in seed catalogues. Though I might be impressed by the health and size of the plants, I’m inevitably disenchanted with the composition. Twenty different types of dahlias in full bloom make an impressive sight, but they might just as well be stalks of corn or some other crop. It is the judicious selection and arrangement of plants that make for a visually pleasing garden, not merely the size and quantity of the flowers. When designing a landscape, I consider what the various elements will contribute to the composition as a whole, instead of allowing myself to be charmed and distracted by their individual characteristics.

Of course, it is hard to deny that certain plants are natural scene-stealers. Delphiniums and Roses are arguably the highlight of my June garden. Still, their colors and forms are selected to enhance rather than detract from the impact of the garden’s design. Were this not the case, I’d probably be tempted to bring the flowers inside and enjoy them in a vase. The luxury of having a cutting garden is that it allows one to grow flowers like vegetables, as a crop to be harvested, but more on that topic another time.

This spring, as you make your first foray to the local nursery, take a moment to consider whether the plants that have caught your eye are likely to harmonize with your existing design. Try to avoid impulsively purchasing plants simply because they look pretty in their pots. Ask yourself if your choices will contribute to your overall composition or if your selections are likely to remain a collection of soloists vying for your attention. If the latter, perhaps some editing is in order.

On the home front it’s snowing here again. …..sigh!

Friday, February 13, 2009

A Year In The Garden, First Installment

Welcome to the launch of my blog, A Year In The Garden.

For the past ten years I have been designing and cultivating the display gardens here at my home in Seekonk, MA. They have served both as a resource for my clients and a personal, creative outlet. There have been many successes and a few failures. But without exception, I have relished the opportunity to explore new ideas and the chance to experiment with a wide variety of ornamental plants. In many ways my property is like a laboratory and much of the knowledge I have gathered here has made its way into lectures and designs for my clients.

In the coming weeks and months I hope to use this forum as a written and pictorial diary of my gardens here in Seekonk. I also plan to share design ideas, plant suggestions, horticultural tips, and a range of do’s and don’ts that might help you, the reader, avoid many of the mistakes that I commonly encounter when first visiting my client’s homes. My posts will be inspired by what is currently taking place in my garden so, if you live in the northeast, you will probably find them timely.

Here in Southern New England we have been blessed with snow cover since December. Sheltered from the road, the snow pack at my house has stayed fresh and white making this one of the prettiest winters that I can remember. In addition to its aesthetic value, the snow has been a wonderful insulator, protecting my plants from harsh winds, and severe drops in temperature. Now that it has started to warm a bit, I’m anxious to get outside. Yesterday, I started cutting down the grasses that I left standing last fall and the catmint (nepeta) that kept the leaves from blowing into the front garden. In the coming days, as the weather allows, I’ll begin trimming some of my evergreens, and cutting back the long stems on my smoke bush (Cotinus coggygria ) and trumpet vine (Campsis radicans).

This time of year it’s fun to leaf through the many garden catalogs that continually fill my mailbox, but I have learned to exercise restraint. In general I never order anything from a catalog that I can buy from a local nursery. Mail order plants tend to be very small and hardly worth the money when compared to the stock one can purchase locally for the same price. After many disappointments, I’ve made it a rule to order only bulbs (tulips, daffodils, lilies etc) and tubers like dahlias. Though hope springs eternal and even I have been known to throw caution to the wind when a particularly tempting catalogue crosses my path. This year I ordered a few plants from Bluestone Perennials and I’ll be curious to see what arrives at my door.

If you do decide to order perennials or shrubs from a catalogue, I suggest you request a specific delivery date. There’s nothing more frustrating than having plants arrive when the ground is still frozen. I’m in a particularly cold spot and prefer that my hardy plants don’t arrive before the end of April. Dahlia tubers can’t be planted here before mid- May so I request a delivery accordingly. Most annuals and half-hardy perennials won’t put on much growth until the soil really warms up so there is no point in having them suffer through the cool nights of late Spring. There are of course some exceptions, but more on those another time…..