Plants | Deborah Silver & Co.

The 2013 Espaliers

It is no secret that I am very fond of espaliered trees. Espaliers? These are trees or shrubs which are pruned to a 2-dimensional shape. Though the practice dates back many centuries, a French monk, Fr. Legendre, published a book in 1684 entitled “Palmette Legendre”. He detailed his method for drastically pruning fruit trees so they could be grown against the monastery walls. This made it possible to grow many more trees, and harvest more fruit, in a small space. The French word espalier is derived from the Italian word “spalliera”, meaning “something to rest the shoulder (spalla) against”. These fruit trees rested their shoulders against the wall.

Fr. Legendre discovered that fruit trees that were subject to this kind of hard pruning, and enjoying the warmth generated by the wall, produced better yields. The growth generated in the third dimension would be cut back to the fruiting spurs. The first espaliers were pruned to encourage long horizontal arms. It seems that horizontal branches bear more fruit than vertical ones. This horizontal shape is known as a cordon, and is quite similar to how grapes are pruned.

Eventually, many different styles of pruning emerged. Some styles are just as decorative as they are utilitarian. The tree pictured above has been trained into a classic fan shape. All of the primary arms radiate outward from the trunk in the shape of a fan. This shape is great for a wall that is both tall and wide. Blank walls in the landscape are a perfect spot for an espalier. The pattern of green, light and shadow that the tree creates provides interest in a spot that is otherwise empty. Should I under plant an espalier, I like like a short growing plant. Part of the beauty of an espalier is being able to see the entire shape, from top to bottom.

Espaliers are traditionally created from fruit bearing trees. Though apples prefer a sunny location to fruit well, a pear tree is fairly tolerant of a shady location. I am partial to pears. Their glossy leaves are beautiful, and they seem more resistant to fungal problems. Many fruit trees require another tree for cross pollination. If you want to grow an espalier for fruit, be sure you grow a pair, or pick a variety that is self pollinating. All fruiting trees are beautiful when they bloom in the spring. An espalier fruit tree in full bloom is especially gorgeous, as the white flowers dramatically detail the geometry of the shape.

These four espaliers are Kieffer pears, trained in the candelabra form. It is easy to see here that an overall form has been determined for the large branches. Once a horizontal branch reaches the width desired, the young branch is turned towards the sky, and tied to a form. That branch will require support until it gets enough to stand on its own. Pear wood hardens off quickly. If you are training an espalier, be sure to make any change in direction when the branch is still very young. Barely visible at the top of this picture is a horizontal fish line. The branches are tied to this to keep them vertical, and keep them the desired distance from neighboring branches. We have secured the branches in this manner for display only. Once they are planted against a wall, galvanized steel eyes will need to be installed in the mortar. The branches will be tied to those eyes using a flexible and expandable landscape tie.

Though a fruiting tree is a traditional subject for an espalier, lots of trees and shrubs readily take to this kind of pruning. Pictured above is a white rose of sharon, trained into a fan. The picture is not the best. Imagine many branches emerging from the soil in a line., rather than a mass. Any branch which emerged from the ground outside of the line-either to the front or back-was removed. The fan is created with many branches, rather than just a select few. This shape of this shrub reminds me of fan coral. It will be a solid mass of green, in leaf-and a solid mass of white in flower.

A Belgian fence is a series of espaliered trees that are planted equidistant from each other. Each interior tree has a single trunk which comes up up out of the ground about 18″. Years ago, that trunk was pruned down to 18″. A pair of emerging side shoots were trained at a specific and repeating angle. The collection of trees produces multiple diamond shapes. Ideally, each diamond is the same size as its neighbor. Maintaining the diamond shapes requires faithful and regular pruning. The larger and simpler the diamonds, the easier the care. This group of trees are Calloway crab apples. They have a beautiful cinnamon colored bark, and flower and fruit like all crab apples.

The large espaliers in this picture are lindens-old lindens. The cordon espaliers in front of them-Bradford pears. Both species are ornamental, and tolerate hard pruning. These trees may also be allowed to fill in between the horizontal layers. This would result in a solid thin wall of green. They could be grown against a wall, or as a freestanding green wall. Any espalier which is grown as a fence will need lots of support and direction in the early years. Big bamboo stakes are prefect for this. The bamboo you see on the foreground trees was attached to keep all the branches in place during shipping.

This espalier has been grown in a goblet shape. The change in direction from a horizontal to vertical is a gently curve, as opposed to the right angle of a candelabra style. As the main arms are fairly well established, we only needed to secure the tops of the branches to keep the tree representing its intended shape.

These fan espaliers are apples and pears of various varieties. A whole orchard could be grown in a relatively small space. Training espaliers is an art form, but a form that can be learned. As slowly as trees grow, you would have time for your knowledge to grow. A large caliper espalier is an investment, mainly due to the years it took to get it to size. This particular grower does not sell any trees unless they are at least 7 years old. Over the course of that 7 years, he waters and feeds, and keeps the yellow bellied sapsuckers from drilling holes in their trunks. He has trees that have had a major arm die back-heartbreaking this. But once an espalier is established, they are no more care than any other tree or shrub. Some nurseries and garden centers carry 1-2 year old plants. This makes it easy to give one a try.

Posted on: March 13, 2013 11 Comments

Filed Under: Plants, Woody Plants, Detroit Garden Works Tagged With: espaliers, espaliered trees, espaliered fruits

Winter Green

The color green has not nearly so much significance to a gardener as living green does. I have never taken the time to record how many different plants I have on my property, but suffice it to say that there are lots. Each of the plants have a certain shade of green associated with them. Taken as a whole, a garden is a green tapestry. Only a fraction of the possible colors of green represent in my garden today. A good portion of the garden is still dormant. My roses, shrubs and trees are bare. The perennials are buried under snow whose crust has frozen solid. My isotoma fluvialitis is entirely brown. What’s to look at? The living green in winter is a certain kind of green we call evergreen. Given that our winter is still holding on in March, this is the perfect time to be thinking about evergreens, and how they endow the winter landscape.

That group of plants that manage to stay green over our winter-not such a big range, but impressive in their delivery. The ability for spruce, douglas fir, white pine, boxwood, and rhododendron to stay green over the winter is an extraordinary story of adaptation. Evergreen trees and shrubs do not shed their needles and leaves at the end of the season. They shed interior needles on species specific schedules during the growing season-but definitely not during the winter. Evergreen trees has evolved such that the individual needles have very little in the way of surface area. Those needles are vastly better adapted to resist the drying from winter winds, and survive without photosynthesis going on, than a big fat juicy leaf of a hydrangea. Hydrangeas, and many other deciduous plants, shed that juicy liability in the fall. The needled and broadleaved evergreens-they tough it out.

My urban property has but one large spruce. I am sure it has been here at least 40 years. Maybe 60 years. This tree is green, winter and summer. The winter green is moody and dark, unlike the summer emerald green. I am never more appreciative of that green than I am right now. I barely notice this tree in the summer. In the winter, I see it coming from blocks away. The evergreens that define my winter garden-I could not be more appreciative.

Yews are needle leaved evergreen shrubs. Their dense and dark forest green needles provide such beautiful structure to a garden. In the spring, the new growth is lime green. In the depths of the winter, the color is almost black. Watching the change in color given the season is to understand how plants deal with stress. A yew floating in much too much water-the needles will be yellow. A yew that dies makes a spectacular issue of that demise. Orange needled yews-I am sure you have seen them. Yews in the thick of enduring the winter-the needles are almost black. The color green teaches, should you be watching.

Evergreens provide a stalwart backdrop in the winter for the snow covered branches, and the wispy tufts and remains of the perennial garden. This black green backdrop of hedged yews brings a magnolia into clear focus. Were this view open to the street, the delicate tracery of the branches and the overall shape of this tree would be lost. Specimen evergreens need ample space around them-appreciative space. Hedging evergreens whose repetition defines spaces help to create winter interest.

Broad leaved evergreens are a glutton for punishment. Rhododendrons feature broad leaves with big surfaces that suffer much more damage than needled evergreens. Those big leaves react to winter weather graphically. Those big leaves are sitting ducks for serious cold and vicious wind. The rhododendron outside my home office window tell me whether the day is cold. In cold weather, rhododendron leaves curl and drop down. In very cold weather, the droopy outline of the leaf is rolled in on itself- much like a pencil. In much the same way as I curl up on a cold day, their curling and dropping mechanism helps protect them from extreme cold. In the picture above, the leaves are hanging, dangling, from the stems. This is a winter profile, generated by adaptation. Once the leaves fan out, I know the temperature has moderated. Rhododendrons prosper far better in warmer zones than mine, but my few plants grace my garden with green all winter.

Boxwood-no other evergreen shrub describes a landscape better. Most of our suppliers winter their boxwood in tunnel houses. How so? A boxwood out of the ground, in a pot, is an evergreen needing protection from the winter. Boxwood in containers require special care, as their roots winter above ground. Lots of water prior to the freeze is a good idea. A wilt pruf spray- not a a bad idea. Evergreens in pots at the front door is a very good winter look.

Boxwood in the ground prospers in my yard. The evergreens, both big and small, both needled and broad leaved, define a landscape both summer and winter.

If a winter season is unavoidable, the evergreens help to make it a little easier to bear. They organize a space when snow has all but obliterated any of the details. Once established, evergreens are long lived, and low maintenance.

This day would have been ever so much more bleak, without the evergreens.

Posted on: March 7, 2013 6 Comments

Filed Under: Winter, Plants, Woody Plants, Landscape Design Tagged With: evergreens, evergreens in the landscape

Notes From A Hort Head

Good friends came to the shop late in the day a week ago Saturday-they had a mind to shop our sale, and go to dinner afterwards. We liked the idea. They bought a round of handmade Italian terra cotta pots, given our once a year sale. What would they plant in them? Boxwood, and more boxwood. Rob and I got into a rather spirited discussion about boxwood species and cultivars. M interrupted the both of us with this: LISTEN TO THE HORT HEADS GOING AT IT!

I was amused, and then pleased. Me, a hort head? Well yes, I guess that would be me. My earliest days gardening was entirely about the horticulture. Plants, soil, zones, weather and more plants-I doted on the White Flower Farms catalogue and the national weather service bulletins on TV. Mind you, this time in my life was pre computers. The print plant and seed catalogues were about all I had, beyond my own digging and experimenting.

I grew up into garden design via the plants. Any plant-I was interested. I read all that I could. I learned the names. The latin names-that too. I sprung for small starts of every manner of wild flowers. Rock garden plants-those were great too. Peonies-species peonies. Itoh hybrid tree peonies. Lactiflora peonies. Any peony-I was sure I had to have it. The 5 acres I owned in Orchard Lake had 300 peonies the day I sold it. Iris-loved those too. I grew every iris I could get my hands on. Species from Turkey. Louisiana iris. Japanese iris. Bearded iris. I could go on, but my hort headedness is not really of so much interest. What is really interesting are the plants.

The winter in my zone is long-the better part of 6 months. Every gardener in my zone needs a mechanism by which they cope. January is not so bad. The remnants and memories of the holidays sustain. February-brutally colorless and cold. March-still winter-although in late March comes the crocus, and the hellebores. But March is not the glory that is spring. Last spring was a torment, between the way too early heat, and the heartbreaking and lengthy late freeze. I so hope for better this coming spring.

I had reason to shop for plants for an event. Mark’s greenhouse sported two full benches of cyclamen. Both the standard and miniature cyclamen were in full bloom-breathtaking. Faced with all of those flowers, I loved what I saw, and grieved for the long winter that lays ahead. There is no spring in my immediate future. And I do miss the flowers. I filled my cart, and installed them in my window sill. The leaves typically are dark green with striking white markings, but some newer cultivars sport leaves with big blotches of silvery white.

My windowsill is not a bad spot for cyclamen. They like cool, even downright chilly temperatures. Therre is something very cheery about all of this pink, red and white.

Cyclamen persicum is also known as the florists cyclamen. This species, not hardy in my zone, has been intensively bred for winter bloom. If you are longing for spring, these cyclamens might help you weather the winter storm. Be careful not to overwater. Buy blooming plants that show clear signs of sending up new flowers. I keep them on the dry and cool side, and fertilize every 3 weeks or so with a balanced fertilizer-at 1/2 strength.

Once the leaves start to yellow, I know the plants are asking for a rest period. I will confess I have never tried to keep them over to a following winter. I am not that good a grower. That they help me winter my flowerless storm is enough.

There are cyclamen that are hardy in my zone. Cyclamen hederifolium generally prospers in lower light and dry shade. I would try them in a few locations before making a big investment. They can be haughty, demanding, picky, and unfriendly. Perfectly sited, they prosper. Thriving colonies make you and your garden look good. For years I had a patch in dry shade that was as lovely in leaf as it was in flower.

The flowers are so similar to the florist’s cyclamen that I can not tell them apart. Were I a cyclamen head, I am sure I could spot the differences. They are diminuitive and charming in the garden, but they are really great on my winter window sill.

Not too shabby, this.

Posted on: January 18, 2013 9 Comments

Filed Under: Color, Plants Tagged With: florists cyclamen, cyclamen hederifolium, cyclamen coum, cyclamen

The Garden Designer’s Roundtable: Plants and Memory

A memory can be triggered by many things. The smell of lilacs in the spring. The fragrance of a rose. A mass of daisies, blooming. Plants that bring memories flooding back to me mostly have to do with my mother’s garden. Roses-oh yes, so many roses. A gingko tree, grown from seed to a spectacular size. Tomatoes, lettuce, and herbs in pots. Orchids, hanging from the trees. And the zinnias she grew from seed. I never see a zinnia without thinking of her.

But my memories of her aside, the big old evergreen trees that it has been my pleasure to meet make me feel zero at the bone. Zero at the bone? A feeling which is primeval. Elemental. For me, giant old trees evoke memories that are not tied to specific events. They may provoke memories of which I am only dimly aware.

I am sure this sense of belonging to the primeval forest is why it is so difficult to take down a big tree. Even a damaged or sick old tree. This client was very attached to a pair of old and weary Norway spruce planted just a few feet from the foundation of the house. Taking them down was not an option. Planting more of them at the road, a fitting tribute. I always admired her reluctance to interfere with with a chain saw. The landscape had an aura that would not have been possible without those old trees.

These trees may be many years away from evoking a memory of the primeval forest, but the impulse was there to plant them.

Giant old trees whose life spans many gererations of people are as rare in urban areas as they are revered. Old large properties that have never been clear cut to make way for neighborhoods provide homes for old trees. The steward-gardener who takes great pains to look after them is a person for whom those trees evoke a memory. In my area, there are old cemeteries whose old trees are spectacular. Many cities have parks, and for good reason. Exposure to an old, natural or archetypal landscape is comforting, and thought provoking.

The Estivant Pines nature sanctuary on the Kewenaw Peninsula in the upper peninsula is a protected home to many old pines. Pictured in the Michigan Nature Association blog, this is the trunk of one of the largest and oldest of those pines. The preservation of these old trees is the result of the work, patience and determination of many-all of whom have a memory that is important to nurture.

This post is but one of many featured at the Garden Designer’s Roundtable today on the subject of memory and plants. My special congratulations to Andrew Keys, whose book Why Grow That When You Can Grow This has just been published on this very topic. If the book is as exuberant and sassy as he is, it should be a great read!

Andrew Keys : Garden Smackdown : Boston, MA

Genevieve Schmidt : North Coast Gardening : Arcata, CA

Jocelyn Chilvers : The Art Garden : Denver, CO

Lesley Hegarty & Robert Webber : Hegarty Webber Partnership : Bristol, UK

Mary Gallagher Gray : Black Walnut Dispatch : Washington, D.C.

Rebecca Sweet : Gossip In The Garden : Los Altos, CA

Susan Cohan : Miss Rumphius’ Rules : Chatham, NJ

Susan Morrison : Blue Planet Garden Blog : East Bay, CA

Thomas Rainer : Grounded Design : Washington, D.C.

Rochelle Greayer : Studio ‘g’ : Boston, MA

Posted on: November 27, 2012 16 Comments

Filed Under: The Natural World, Plants, Woody Plants Tagged With: the Garden Designers Roundtable