In praise of propagators

    There is something magical about stepping into  a greenhouse on a cold day. That warm fug with its earthy whiff of healthy growth. A place apart, where the seasons are tricked, and we can grow what nature denies us.   
    This year is the first time I have an enclosed growing space (apart from the conservatory) for a long time. Not since I had polytunnels on my nursery, which was years ago now. As a teenager I shared a greenhouse with my father, of which I have very clear memories, especially of a Humex Big Top propagator, which I ended up taking with me to the nursery.
    Propagators have certainly come on – an interesting illustration of how technological advance lets us get away with using far fewer resources. The Big Top was a great deep tray of fibre-glass which had to be filled with sand in which soil warming cables were buried; its top was aluminium and sheets of (all too easily broken) glass. The one I have just bought is simply some aluminium hoops covered in a PVC sheet with zips. Seed trays sit on a foil sheet, in which heating cables are enmeshed. The whole thing struck me at first as rather flimsy, but actually it is well designed, and quite robust, and provides a very good heat. Everything the Big Top would have done at a fraction of the weight.And you can pack it all up at the end of the spring and put it away in a drawer. The Big Top just sat there taking up an awful lot of space.
    There is something deeply fascinating about a propagator. A bit like one of those perspex boxes they put premature babies in, a plastic bubble which generates new life. I love the sensation of opening it up in the morning, the thrill of seeing what has germinated, the excitement of watching the almost hourly advances in the growth of tomato and pepper seedlings. The draught of humid green-smelling air of the greenhouse within the greenhouse.
    It isn’t even a proper greenhouse, but a Belgian Filclair Serren PVC polytunnel, superior to polyethylene, but designed with some rather irritating draught gaps at the bottom – so some additional work needed. The growth rate on salad crops sown in January has been very impressive – but soon to be replaced by tomatoes, aubergines and peppers.
    Glasshouses in some ways are dinosaurs – all that heavy, fragile and energy-hungry material. Polytunnels have replaced them to all intents and purposes for unheated or minimally-heated work. Its common to hear people say that they don’t look so nice. True. But then isn’t that just nostalgia to some extent?

Blogged with the Flock Browser

They do things differently here - News from Mexico 2

Now in a stunning town (Zacatacas), UNCESCO heritage site, old Spanish silver mining place - It is all rose-red stone, beautifully restored, clear desert light, fantastic baroque cathedral - a uniquely Mexican take on Baroque. Were in Cruz's home town of Fresnillo y'day. Like the wild west, about 1/4 the men wearing cowboy hats, women in spangled/sequined denim, shops full of amazing cowboy boots - alligator skin with incredible pointed toes, elaborately embroidered and tooled, loads of big old dusty pick-ups, music blaring out of shop fronts, one group of ?Mennonites/?Amish looking around - huge aryan and pink compared to everyone else who is so dark and well just how you imagine Mexicans to look like. Clear bright light, dust. Warm in sun - just, but you can imagine this place to be roasting later on.

Met Cruz's family. His mum and 2 of his (6) bros and 1 (of 2) sisters, glad I was introduced, as bros,. had faint  air of menace about them - big men in black leather biker jackets. Drove out into the desert to see his childhood home, dusty little villages and then miles down a dirt track which gets worse and worse and eventually seems to disappear (I'm doing all the driving and worried  about trashing the hire car), to a collection of little one-storey adobe houses - his is now abandoned. Humble beginnings all right. But the landscape - a vast panorama of distant hills, one of those landscapes of truly epic proportions which is so American West and so utterly un-European, mile upon mile of dry scrubby trees and cactus. Breathtaking.

The lectures - well this is Lateeen America. If el jefe of the Architects Association wants to answer his mobile phone in the middle of your lecture he goes right ahead. And things never start on time. A general air of make-do, and lots of people who have to be made to feel important.

Y'dy in Fresnillo we started 1 1/2 hours late as nothing could begin until the mayor arrives. Whole occasion a bit surreal - vast old stone theatre, freezing cold. Audience mostly students, local dignitaries, some young architects, green campaigners and (groan) some drafted-in schoolkids. Cruz was not interpreting for 'political' reasons - an awful lot of my being here is in fact to do with the politics of what he is doing rather than what I am actually saying. Which is fine, because I am so happy and honoured to be able to participate. All part of 'Green Day' so various other speakers, inc. Cruz. Anyway - interpreter - Sexy Senorita with Big Hair, and thick coating make-up (and spangled denim). Learnt her English in West Virginia (!!!!) so found my accent very difficult, and to begin with my heart sank when she could not translate 'landscape'. But she was really inspired, and we got on really well, and given how late the mayor was, we went through the whole thing twice beforehand. She made a really good go of a difficult job and it was all just about ok. But I've insisted Cruz interprets from now on.
   

Blogged with Flock

News from Mexico

Cruz is to lecture next. I concentrate on the screen, trying to figure out the Spanish powerpoint presentation. Then I look over towards him.In one hand he has a microphone, in the other a gun. Definitely, no doubt about it, a small silver pistol. I soon put 2 and 2 together and realise that it is his laser pointer, but the effect is well – striking to say the least. Saw some in the market later, and thought about getting some as presents for those who work in the further education biz , but then realised that a case of them would be a surefire ticket to Guantanamo. Which almost happened at the next airport security – Cruz had left it in his hand baggage and nearly missed the flight.

Lots of exciting new plant introductions seem to come from Mexico, so it is interesting to get an invite to do a lecture tour there, and see if they do anything with their local flora. Thanks to Cruz Gaali, an irrepressibly enthusiastic PhD graduate from the landscape department at Sheffield University. Cruz had organised a whole series of lectures to teaching institutions, professional bodies and public events - on public planting design. I am away that my main role is to show people that “Cruz is not mad”, that in Europe and in other countries landscape designers and horticulturalists are creating nature-inspired, sustainable and bio-diverse plantings. As opposed to the standard Mexican public space plantings: beds of brightly coloured annuals, and clipped trees. And clipped trees. Clipping trees is clearly as Mexican as drinking tequila or going on strike (February is when everyone goes on strike). Even shrubs in the middle of  dual carriageways are clipped – squares and blobs for the most part, with the occasional basket, or possibly even….. is it a handbag? Private gardeners of course are far more adventurous – mariachi bands in greenery are a favourite. Needless to say there are more Mexican natives in a British garden centre than in a public park in Mexico.

Just done lecture no.3, in a tent in what appears to be a clearing in the jungle, but is in fact part of the best tropical zone public park I have ever been in. It is the tip of a wedge-shaped wilderness area which penetrates almost to the town centre of Uruapan in central western Mexico – it functions as a tidied-up, horticulturally enhanced bit of monsoon forest, with paved walkways and seating and other amenity areas around dramatic whitewater streams, waterfalls and water channels. A lovely way for people to experience natural environment in a very controlled way – very important in a society where very few appreciate wild landscapes or see native plants in a positive way. There is so much water, in channels, fountains and cascades that in some ways it is like a 1930s Villa d’Este. It is spotless.

There are nine of us crammed onto a long table on the stage, speakers and various Important People, who have to make introductory speeches for ‘Green Day’. Most important of all is ‘Il Presidente del Ayunciamento’, ie. the mayor, who I sit next to – as foreign mascot person for sustainable public horticulture I am clearly very important. I love that word ayunciamento – its where we get ‘junta’ from – I always think of sinister Pinochet type generallissimos. This guy has the well-oiled urbanity of the professional politician; I wouldn’t buy a second-hand car off him. He speaks, the event is opened, we all stand. Ohmygod, they are going to play the national anthem. No, they don’t. Whew! Then we have to get down from the stage while they get the powerpoint ready. This, as always it seems in Mexico, involves around 6 young men clustered around the computer and projector, huffing and puffing, pulling cords out, pushing them back in, arguing, gesticulating – it is clearly some sort of male bonding exercise.

The photographers of the local press descend, Il Presidente del Ayunciamento and I put our arms around each other’s shoulders and smile. He then departs. Lecture begins, and with Cruz interpeting, goes very smoothly – although he clearly has his own agenda, often elaborating greatly on what I say. Just as well I trust him. Occasionally the PA system flips over to a local radio station. No-one stirs. Clearly a normal occurrence.


 Anyay, come the end – we all get a basket of presents (avocadoes, coffee, local delicacies, big bottle Kahlua-type liquor). Last place delivered us a dubious-looking little plastic character in local costume and a handful  of slightly-leaking miniatures of the local mezcal. Oh, and a big certificate from Il Presidente to commorate our participation.

Blogged with Flock

WORKING FOR THE COUNCIL

    I have always found the idea of doing public space planting a more attractive one than designing private gardens. Thousands of people see your work every day, its part of the public realm, a part of the landscape, not hidden away. You have to accept some heavy constraints though: limited funds often mean that projects are small scale and maintenance is still a major issue. And you just have to accept that work does receive a fairly frequent mulch of plastic bags, beer cans and take-away wrappers.
    In Bristol I’ve been working with the city authorities for some years now, usually creating two new perennial-based plantings each winter. I’ve done a few small beds in parks, but they tend to get lost in the great expanse of grass and trees. Far more effective is planting at key sites on commuter routes: traffic islands, roundabouts, junctions. There are real advantages to working on these, as they tend to be pretty vandal proof, and slug proof too.
    Working on these sites involves co-ordinating with contractors. Usually an 8.00 am start, parking on a  pavement and sometimes running the gauntlet of traffic wearing a day-glo safety jacket. Once wearing one of these jackets you realise you have joined a working class brotherhood  who look after their own – great trucks screech to a halt to let you cross the road for example, and it also gives you just about enough authority to stop the traffic if you want to. Crossing roundabouts is something of an art form – much better if there is enough of a grass apron to drive onto. Driving off again though is pretty hairy I can tell you.
    The plants used are resilient perennials which can look after themselves as much as possible, and once established, compete with weeds. Geranium is one of the obvious genera to concentrate on; in the mild and moist Bristol climate, many are in active growth for almost all the year. They are such a useful group that I almost have to make a conscious effort not to overuse them.  Clump-forming and late-flowering composites: helianthus, rudbeckia, solidago, aster, are useful for later-season and strucutral interest.
    Ideally plants will be allowed to spread and self-seed. The aim is a closed canopy of vegetation. Whether this happens is very much to management which is out of my hands. I have run an afternoon training course however, and found the team (from Continental Landscapes) had a better ability to spot the difference between weeds and seedling perennials than I expected. If regenerating perennials are left, the ground will eventually be covered with the vegetation you want, leaving little space for invasive weeds. However on some sites, ‘over-maintenance’ prevents this happening. Ornamental grasses too can be mistaken for weed grasses – so any species used need to be very clearly intentional.
    One new approach I have tried is plug planting, of species which flower in the first year. This is not necessarily designed for permanence as some species used are short-lived, but instead gives more intense colour more quickly. Examples of species used are Achillea ‘Galaxy Hybrids’, Malva moschata, Lychnis chalcedonica, Rudbeckia hirta, Physostegia virginiana, Stipa tenuissima. Planting is at random at 30cm spacings.

For Bristolians, sites I’ve done some planting on so far are:
Snuff Mills,
Three Lamps Junction
Wells Rd. Oxford St. just up from the above.
Broadwalk Arcade, Knowle.
Redcatch Park
White Tree roundabout
Malago Lane, pedestrian island
Eastville Park, one bed near public conveniences at far western end.
St. James Barton
Novers Lane roundabout
Stapleton Rd./Rawnsley Park (something to look at while you wait for your crack dealer)

noel@noelkingsbury.com

Blogged with Flock

'Girly Gardens' and Kim Wilkie links

I have a contribution to one of the discussions currently on the marvellous and stimulating Thinking Gardens:

http://www.thinkingardens.co.uk/girly.html

Its part of an ongoing discussion about gender and the garden.


Also, the Vista Debates at the Museum of Garden History are now being made available as podcasts from the Gardens Illustrated website. The December Kim Wilkie session and an interview with Tim Richardson about the debates can be found at:

http://www.gardensillustrated.com/podcast.asp

Blogged with Flock

We have only just started

    It never ceases to surprise me how little the question of planting design is really understood, or expressed, or articulated. Few since Gertrude Jekyll have really spelt out principles clearly.
    A few years ago I came across a dissertation at Vienna's University of NAtural REsources and Applied Life Sciences (German 'Bodenkultur' sounds so much more pithy!)* in which the author had read all our books and critiqued us for failing to develop a language of planting design, in particular no agreed terminology.
    Many in the landscape design, and some in the garden design business may be surprised by this. But such surprise probably indicates that all they do is spray in 'green cement' in great monocultural blocks and leave it at that. Real planting design involves so much more, with a palette which is enormous, each element of which has a will of its own, and will react differently in each location. Makes painting seem a doddle by comparison. As does the Burle Marx approach, which to me now, feels more and more like Victorian bedding meets modernismo.
     My feeling that we have only just begun to really think seriously about planting design is strengthened by a visit to Piet Oudolf to look at drawings and pictures of recent projects. There was a point at which his public design work seemed like it might just get stuck in the distribution of monocultural blocks over a wide area. But then he started varying it with scatterings of specimen plants, that repeated like a rhythm, and then varying the rate of scatter, adn then using the scatter and intermingle approach to produce a whole level of transformation effects within plantings. As a consequence he is taking planting design to new heights of sophistication. His drawings are artworks in themselves and essential in order to understand what is actually going on beneath the richness of his plantings.
    The analogies to music seem so obvious, I find myself grasping for words to describe what Piet does, and always seem to fall back on musical ones. An analogy that Nori Pope really articulated. It is high time we found a common language to describe how we distribute plants across space. And started thinking a bit more analytically  about what we do.

* If anyone wants to see this (auf Deutsch) please ask.

Reply/correspond to : noel@noelkingsbury.com

Blogged with Flock

You will soon have to learn German!

    The long process whereby one of the world's leading horticultural journals has been dumbed down to yet another magazine (albeit a very good one) seems to be complete. A member of the editorial staff admitted to me last week (regretfully and somewhat defensively) that The Garden is "no longer a journal of record". In other words no longer something you turn to reference or to back up a statement or argument.
    The whole process which began, I cannot remember when, 'The Journal' became 'The Garden' is complete - magazinification. I am all for breaking down the doors of elitism but I personally feel the process has gone too far. The Garden now seems to operate on the same principles as garden TV, that we are all beginners, that none of us want to know about the latest science, research results, innovative techniques or read what experts write (as opposed to in house journalists). There also seems to be an assumption that we are all interested in design. Hello! This is the Royal HORTICULTURAL Society - we are first and foremost gardeners. Design certainly has a place in the journal but I suspect many gardeners would like to see less snazzy decking and more horticultural know-how. Besides which, other magazines do the design side so much better. The Plantsman has taken over some of what The Journal used to do, but only partially. Can't we have something in-between.
     What `I think many of us object to is the assumption that a journal cannot cater for both beginners and experts alike, and that many people new to gardening or with little knowledge might actually be interested and stimulated by more in-depth 'expert' pieces.
    It is a relief to turn to Germany's 'Gartenpraxis' - apart from the fact that it is in German!, and therefore a bit of a slow read (though a dictionary on my computer helps a lot). It seems to combine a huge range of material, popular stuff and latest research, pieces by experts, and where to go on your holiday next to see good flowers and gardens. There seems to be an assumption in Germany that people should not be talked down to, that technical knowledge is something to aspire to. Is 'dumbing down' a peculiarly English phenomenon?
    The slow decline of The Garden is, I suspect, part of the commercialisation of the RHS. How many members want to be part of  a business as opposed to a society is an interesting question.

Blogged with Flock