Present Dreams, Future Memories

My great-aunt was once a great traveler. With her husband, her children, her friends or alone, she has been all over the world. Now that she is widowed with children long grown and an illness that prevents her from going very far from home, she entertains herself by “re-taking” her trips in her mind. She recounts every action and impression from arrival to departure, and it seems to me that her memories of her travels are a sustaining force for her.

I think about traveling nearly all the time–not only planning and scheduling work-related trips, but also dreaming about and researching the places, specifically gardens, that I would like to visit. While it is educational and inspiring to look at photographs of gardens in books, walking through an exceptional garden is enlightening. So much is revealed: the relationship of the garden to its building, the visual and physical connections between the garden rooms, the proportions of the spaces and even the greater historical and cultural context of the garden to its country and time.

Les Quatre Vents

Les Quatre Vents is in La Malbaie, about two hours north of Quebec City, Quebec. Francis Cabot owned and developed the garden, and he is also the founder of the Garden Conservancy, an amazing organization that promotes and preserves American gardens and sponsors the Open Days program of which I have written in prior posts. Les Quatre Vents possesses a sense of mystery for me. There is a book about it, The Greater Perfection, but it is out of print and sells for hundreds of dollars. Further fostering its unattainable quality, the garden is only open to the public twice a year. I had tickets for the tour this past June (which were bought in November of 2009), but I was not able to make the trip. I have regretted it since.

La Chevre d’Or

Admittedly, my reason for wanting to visit this garden arises somewhat irrationally from a single compelling image of the garden. I just love the way the hedges embrace those little statues and the contrast between the clipped formality of the space and the wild Mediterranean setting beyond.

From my research, it seems as though the garden is part of a hotel, the Chateau de la Chevre d’Or in the Cote d’Azur region of France. Of course, I may be staying at the cheap place down the hill and visiting the garden for the day.

Villa Lante

Not the most original of my garden travel dreams, but from what I have heard and read, Villa Lante is awe-inspiring in its design and execution and the best of the Renaissance gardens. As with looking at paintings from five- and six-hundred years ago, I imagine I would be stunned by the beauty and craftsmanship of the statues, water features and parterres.

With planning and determination, I should be able to take these trips and others in the near future. And if I am fortunate to be as sharp as my great-aunt (and I do not consume too much wine in my travels), I should be able to “re-take” them for many years to come.

It’s the Little Things

Lately I’ve been working on the designs for small gardens—some are pieces of a larger whole, and others are just, well, small. The most important principles that I follow for petite spaces:

• Dividing the area into even smaller “garden rooms” makes the space seem larger. Understandably, clients sometimes have a difficult time buying this concept. But it’s one of the oldest tricks in the book, and it really does work.
• Details are magnified, so each is element must be carefully considered. Of course, this is a recurring theme for me, no matter the size of the garden. Hedge heights, paving details, furnishings—nothing is arbitrary.

This garden on South Main Street in Southampton illustrates the importance and effectiveness of these guidelines. It’s a long, narrow lot—maybe 75’ wide by 150’ long—with an historic house filled nearly to the brim with the owner’s art and antiques. The garden is a charming reflection of the architecture and interiors, if a little fussy for my personal taste.

This little vignette is on axis with a window of the house. The owner's meticulous attention to detail is apparent in his consideration of the interior-exterior relationship and his selection of paving, planting and furnishings.

A brick path runs along the side of the house from the entry gate to the garden. The rectangle of lawn relates to the pergola and is enclosed by tall privet hedges, with a lower boxwood border.

The pergola is beautifully detailed, with climbing wisteria and white canvas.

The proportions of the swimming pool (about 15' x 35') are just right for the scale of the garden.

With gravel seating areas, benches and pots at either end, the pool is as decorative as it is functional (for adults, anyway.)

Many of the trees and shrubs are pruned into mounds, keeping the small space tidy.

Along the north side of the house, what might otherwise be dark, dreary, forgotten space is treated with as much care as the other garden rooms. An interesting combination of brick, bluestone and gravel form the path, and combinations of chairs and pots are strategically located in relation to the doors and windows of the house.

Art IN the Garden

As I alluded in my last post, I have recently moved. After seven years in New York, an opportunity unexpectedly presented itself, and I decided to take it. So, here I am, in a big house in a small town, close to my family and far from my work. But those stories may require a whole new blog, and I just wanted to explain briefly why I have not been keeping up with this one. Now, back to the program…

Over the last several years, I have been to Paris several times, both for work and personal endeavors. Most recently I took a last-minute two-day trip, primarily to meet a client at a job site. But I had a whole extra day, so I went looking for inspiration. It’s Paris, though–inspiration is around every corner. I don’t want to wax poetic about a city that has received centuries of more eloquent words than mine, but being there fills me with a sense of pride to be a theoretical descendant of the designers that envisioned such a beautiful place.

A recurring theme in Paris is the incorporation of art–sculpture, specifically–into their garden spaces. They are usually bold yet simple pieces that heighten the experience of the thoughtfully crafted spaces and carefully manicured plants.In the Tuileries, a curving sandstone sculpture stood in the cross-axis of the pleached allees of lindens. The contrasts between the crisp lines of the tree canopies and the undulating form of the sculpture are even more apparent in the dark shadows cast on the light gravel.

The sculpture is at the end of the allee

A closeup of the sculpture and the shadows

At the Palais Royale was another example of the organically-shaped sculpture juxtaposed with the crisply pruned trees. These were not my favorite pieces, because they are obviously taken from the despised Drawing Class 101 exercise of accurately shading a crumpled piece of paper.

Palais Royale

In fact, I did that very drawing exercise while studying drawing and painting in Paris in 2006. At that time, this odd sculpture was in the Jardins du Luxembourg.

Jardins du Luxembourg

The most impressive aspect of any of these spaces is that they are all public, and that the French obviously consider both art and gardens to be central to the experience of their capital city. And just in case there were any doubts to their dedication, there are these charming reminders:

Beautiful Day in Brooklyn, Part 2

Just a few blocks from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden lies my own little peaceful haven. Hidden between rows of brownstones, my garden is so quiet that I can hear the breeze rustle the leaves, the water gurgling from the neighboring fountain and the opera singer practicing from some unknown window above. And I am very proud that the design adds to that atmospheric magic.

When we moved in, the space was nothing more than dirt and concrete. With generous contributions of materials from my landscape contractors, I have planted almost every bush and flower with my own hands. I didn’t get it right the first few times… I tried hydrangeas (too needy, not enough impact), azaleas (not enough sun), Big Daddy hostas (overwhelmed everything else) and various other plants that shriveled or wilted or were devoured by the giant finger-sized slugs. But finally, finally I got it right.

It’s a “green” garden, for the most part, with a lot of evergreen boxwoods, rhododendron and English ivy. They provide structure and a sculptural setting for my beautiful pot. The plants went in long before my careful search for this piece proved fruitful. I even made paper mockups to make sure the size was right. But until it was placed, I had no idea just how perfectly it fit–not only in size, shape and color but some indescribable feeling.

Verde Vase from Mecox Gardens (www.mecoxgardens.com)

The few flowers that are present are very unassuming, more of a detail than a statement. I especially love hellebores, or Lenten roses. They bow their little heads, hiding their unusual blooms from most observers.

Chartreuse Lenten Rose

Black Lenten Rose

Pink Lenten Rose

And remember those rejected azaleas? Well, one of them got thrown into a large terra-cotta pot, just to get it out of the way and with every expectation of death. Lo and behold, it has survived and even thrived. (No flowers, but who needs flowers?) By pruning out the dead branches, it has taken on a bonsai-like shape, and the moss that has grown on the pot lends to that effect . I love it, maybe irrationally so.

Looking back towards the building in which I live, the copper bay windows of the apartment above become a very strong element in the overall atmosphere of the garden. The paving consists of concrete hexagonal pavers–the same ones that form the old paths in Prospect Park nearby. I like to think that one of the guys who helped build those paths fifty years ago took some of the leftovers home to make his own terrace. To break up the monotony and add some character, I popped out a few of the pavers and planted creeping phlox.

And a sad ending to this selfishly long post… I am moving next month. It makes me sad that I will not get to see the garden grow into its full glory, but I am excited about my new garden endeavors with more space and time. And I still get to keep the pot.

Beautiful Day in Brooklyn, Part 1

A perfect spring day in New York is something to behold, especially when it is contrary to every weather report from the past week. (Are those guys ever right?) This morning I decided to take advantage of the mid-50ish-degree temperature, bright sun and cool breeze and head over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden.

From the Eastern Parkway entrance, the Great Lawn is bordered by brilliantly hued azaleas all in full, glorious bloom. And going against my designer’s instinct and inclination, the reds, magentas and pinks did not clash at all–just blended into one flowing band of fluorescent color. The Hinoki cypress are a nice counter to the azaleas, both in structure and color.

Just beyond the Great Lawn is the Lilac Grove, which is smelled before it is seen. The combination of the purple, lavender and white lilacs underplanted with the blue muscari is even better than I imagined it would be. It’s just so much, with the fragrance and the color and the forms. My pictures do not do it justice.

And a reason to go back in the next week or two, the sure-to-be-stunning Bluebell Wood. The field of strappy leaves is beautiful now, with the spots of sunlight and shadows in the shapes of branches overhead, but I’m sure the royal blue flowers will be an impressive show.

Wainscott Cemetery

A little history… When I was young, my grandmother would take me to the old cemeteries in the small south Georgia towns nearby, sometimes to “visit” our relatives but mostly just to look around, reading the headstones and admiring the beautiful sculptures. And some big history… About 200 years ago, cemeteries started to be designed as strolling gardens–places for the living as much as the dead–and the precursors to modern parks. Mount Auburn in Cambridge (which is amazing and highly recommended) was one of the earliest examples and was designed by the famous landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, later of Central Park (and Prospect Park) fame.

So with no hesitation and a lot of respectful interest, I often visit cemeteries, and yesterday I stopped by one of the many old examples that dot the East End. There wasn’t much to the Wainscott Cemetery–just a few rows of very old headstones with some newer ones mixed in. I did learn that “Hedges” is one of the old family names in the Hamptons, though, so Hedges Lane is not named after the ubiquitous privet hedges! That, and the sharp, sulfur-colored lichens on the dull gray headstones were the most interesting elements.

A Good Gate

While on the same East Hampton Open Days tour, I visited a house on the illustrious Lily Pond Lane. However, rather than the immaculately-kept, glittering example of a millionaire’s mansion, this place was like Grey Gardens. The house itself was swallowed in vines, and the garden felt more like a series of ruins than “garden rooms.” It was sort of thrilling, actually–like seeing into someone’s life after the heyday is looooong past.

The anti-climactic ending to this little tale is a picture of an interesting garden gate. Well-designed gates are harder to find and to achieve than a layperson might think. It’s all about proportions and the details of the woodwork. In addition, there are these awful state and local codes that dictate how far the pickets must be spaced, how tall the gate may be, etc. (often destroying any chance at the aforementioned proportions.) This gate, though, could pass code and looks good.

Oh, okay. One photo of the house to satisfy curiosity.