Coppice Wood

Coppicing is a traditional method of producing long straight woody stems by cutting a tree or a shrub back to the ground.  Many varieties of woody plants respond to this drastic treatment with vigorous growth-from the ground.  Coppice wood was used to provide firewood in European countries where the number of trees were vastly outnumbered by a large population requiring fire for cooking and heat.  Shrubby trees wre planted on the perimeters of farms; regular coppicing produced densely twiggy living fences.   

The new shoots emerging from the stump of a tree grow long and straight.  The juvenile growth is vigorous, and the color is vibrant.  In England, the coppice wood from the sweet chestnut tree is still used to make fencing and fence poles for livestock and poultry.  The sweet chestnut is coppicied on 12 to 18 year cycles, and then harvested to make fencing and gates.  The poles come from coppice wood which is allowed to grow upwards of 30 years before cutting. 

The fresh cut twigs which arrive at the shop in early November are grown by farmers who plant their shrubs in rows or blocks, like crops.  Large fields are harvested in rotation, so every year there is a crop of long straight stems.  Many of our twigs come from varieties of salix, or willow. Every gardener knows that the new or current year’s growth on a red twig dogwood shrub has the best color.  Mature stems become woody, and the color dull.  The new bark of coppice wood is lively.  Newer cultivars of the redtwig dogwood have better and brighter color.  The coppice wood of this redtwig dogwood cultivar is known for its especially brilliant color. 

Once the leaves fall, those twigs which are ready are harvested, sorted by length, bundled and shipped.  Most bunches are 10 stems, except for the curly willow.  The winter color of curly willow stems is subtle, but no so its shape.  The curving and curling stems provide lots of volume-these voluminous bunches are usually 5 stems.  5 stems of this gracefully airy and unpredictably curving willow can endow a winter container arrangement with lots of rhythm and movement.

Coppiced yellow twig dogwood is brilliantly yellow green.  The twigs will be color fast the entire winter.  Used in a winter container, it is not unusual for the stems to root, and leaf out in the spring.  Though but a very few of the leaves are still clinging, the branches are vibrant at a time of year when most all else in the garden has gone dormant. 

Flame willow is a striking coppery orange in color-quite unlike the bark of the trees and shrubs that grow in my garden.  This warm cinnamon color is a standout in snowy and gray weather.  This variety of willow is much more handsome in its twiggy state than it is as a green-leaved shrub. 

Japanese fan willow was cultivated from a fasciated, or flattened natural stem.  Many perennials and shrubs will exhibit this peculiar characteristic.  Some azaleas that exhibit densely twiggy growth were propagated originally from fasciated stems.  Fan willow is noted for its exotic shapes and forms.  No two branches ever look the same.

Curly copper willow exhibits much the same habit of growth as the green curly willow.  However the striking color means it will take fewer branches to make a statement in a winter container.  Our coppice wood has arrived at just the right time.  The cold temperatures outside will help keep them fresh, and the surface of the bark glossy.  Thought the color will survive the winter perfectly intact,  the warm weather in the spring will eventually dessicate and shrivel the stems. 

But there is a place for dry stems in winter containers.  Dead wood branches that have shed their bark can be beautiful in a winter arrangement.  Bleached natural branches are dramatically pale in color, and are visible from a great distance.  

The coppice wood-just one element of many that goes into a beautiful winter container arrangement.

 

 

Through The Lens Part 3

I heard from Bob Stefko a little while ago-he checked out Dirt Simple for the first time. He liked the snapshots I took of him working-I like that. He did admit that the cold made this shoot a real challenge. Funny how this made me feel better.  After a 12 hour day on Saturday, he and I were back to work at 6:30 Sunday morning.  By 8:30 am we had a little sun.  This meant he had to work fast.  Too much glaringly bright light can wash the color and detail right out of a photograph. This means I take pictures of the landscape on overcast days.  For him, it just means more work.


These winter pots feature whitewashed eucalyptus and natural sticks bleached to a plae cream color.  The colors are great with the tawny shingle siding, and the dark blue grey door.  The wood boxes are handsome.  The architect found them-I do not know the maker.  But I do know I like them.  The textures and colors of all of the building materials are so striking. 

The winter pots feature a subtle third element-some curly willow.  These curvy twigs are a great foil to the solid mass of eucalyptus, and the uniformly cut cream sticks.  They make for another layer of interest that is not so apparent until you are closer to the door.

Three handmade English stoneware pots sit on a short wall that separates the driveway from the bluestone walk to the side door.  My pictures from this side, the west side, reveals what happens when I shoot into the morning sun.  The color goes dull, and the shadows really dark.

From the east side, with the sun behind me, the yellow twig dogwood, dark brown bahia spears and lavender eucalyptus look sparkly-richly colored.  The mix of boxwood, and yellow variegated boxwood looks as green as green can be, though these stems have been cut for at least 4 months.   

The red twig dogwood, and Michigan holly stems at this front door are just as richly colored.  Our key to insuring that the Michigan holly holds its berries throught the winter-Vaporguard.  This spray is considerably better than Wiltpruf at limiting transpiration.  With the moisture sealed in the berries, they stay plump, and hold on.  Bob had a challenge photographing these pots.  Tucked between a wall, and the step railing, the range of views was narrow.  I will be interested to see how he interpreted this space visually.   This house has very beautiful stone on the outside-the red makes much of this.

What?  You see snow in mid air here, yes.  How so?  The winter container had thawed some, putting a puddle on the terrace.  You can see that dark spot without any problem.  Bob wanted the entire terrace surface either all wet, or all dry.  We had few options for drying, but we had snow.  We shovelled snow onto the terrace, and swept it around until the entire surface was uniformly wet. 

This mid century modern house designed by Harold Turner, a master builder for Frank Lloyd Wright, is  a gem of a house.  My client-better than any gem.  He insists on utterly simple and sculptural, whether inside or out.  I did bring this sculpture of a concrete hound, thinking it might add a certain something to the photograph.  The photograph would not have much detail of the architecture-nor any detail of this client, and his passions.  This is my favorite snapshot of the shoot.  Man/photographer, man/owner, container, and dog. 

The tiles in this small entry terrace looked great, soaking wet.  The hound seemed like he belonged there.  The pot is a contemporary Italian terra cotta pot from Francesca del Re.  The clay body is loaded with minerals such, and fired at such high temperatures  that these pots are fine outdoors over our winters.  The iron stand is plain-the big idea here is to feature the sculptural aspect of the pot.  A substantial centerpiece of yellow twig dogwood is faced down with a thick and wide noble fir base.  This arrangement features the container.  That hound-he does add a certain something to this scene, does he not?

As we were packing up, my client appeared. He tells me, if this stray dog does not have a home, I will speak for him.  I was delighted to oblige. We left the hound on the terrace, just as Bob photographed it.  Irving offered a tour of the house to our photographer Bob-what a treat.  He has a particular interest in mid century modern architecture.  He got the cook’s tour.  This part of the shoot was not choreographed, or anticipated.  Every client that participated in this shoot was enthusiastic, and accomodating.  Irving-he lives with the idea that he should speak up and out.  No one says welcome better than he does.   I like that idea of his. I like that a great sculpture of a hound got a great home. 

Sunday at 1pm the shoot was done.  What an experience!  Many thanks Bob-it was my pleasure to meet, and work with you.

Christmas In February

 

At the end of the first week of January, I reluctantly took the Christmas light garlands draped around these pots down, and put them in storage.  After all, the holidays were over.  This year I was especially reluctant for the holiday season to end-we had had no snow.  Though the temperature was chilly, we were denied that one ingredient that in my mind makes for Christmas-the snow.   

This photograph with all of the lights blazing taken just before Christmas does seem to lack that special seasonal element-does it not?  I felt we were so ready for the snow-that snow that never came. 

Winters in Michigan are notable for their grey skies, and their abundance of snow.  For whatever reason, our clouds were dry as dust.  It looked for all the world like we had the heat up much too high-and unnecessarily.  We designed a winter display based on the norm for our winters.  The norm went into hiding. 

The collection and placement of these dried stalks of asparagus-Rob had an idea to fragment and diffuse an intense source of C-9 light with those stalks.  This is his version of snow or ice defining every branch distinctly-only that distinction was drawn with light.  Snow on the evergreen boughs in this window box would have added a whole other dimension to this arrangement.  Nature was not interested in cooperating.

I took photographs anyway.  But I so would have loved seeing the front of the shop buried in snow, with the lights running.  Who knows what that might have looked like. 

I took the lights down January 7.  But if you happened to drive by the shop in the past few days, you would have seen those lights going back on the containers.  Lest you think I have gone way over the deep end, Better Homes and Gardens has a photographer arriving Saturday to photograph some of my holiday and winter pots.  The lights had to go back on the pots, as they want to photograph them.   They were insistent that they wanted snow on all of the containers they wanted to photograph.  So the holiday lighting came out of storage. 

 Needless to say, we have been talking about this photo shoot for several months.  This snow squall in late January, just about our only snow this winter, lasted for all of about 3 hours.   2 weeks ago,  it looked like we might have snow showers tomorrow and Saturday.  The Chicago based photographer made some plans to travel-we were at a do or don’t moment.  They have 8 winter pots they want photographed.  Saturday. Who knew the weather would deliver in spades.  

This morning I read that our area has 5 to 8 inches coming tonight.  1 to 3 inches on Friday.  Snow squalls and cloudy skies on Saturday.  Mother nature suddenly has a mind to cooperate mind to cooperate in a big way.  8 inches, no kidding?  We loaded a truck today with props for the shoot, branches, snow shovels and brooms.  We loaded up a blower too.  If every pot is buried, we need to do a little uncovering.  I have already told everyone who works at the shop-do not walk across the lawn and come to the front door-take the side entrance.  The photographer has already asked for fresh snow, and not snow with boot prints.

A photograph of a garden in its finest moment bears no remote resemblance to a real garden.  But a beautiful garden photographed at its finest moment might encourage someone who has never gardened to give gardening a try. This is important to me.  Anyone who paints, photographs, gardens, writes, manages,  composes, sculpts, makes movies, or designs-  they all share this in common. That which gets created implies an audience.  There is a story over which a relationship can be forged.  I am so very pleased that we are about to get snow.  That snow means I will be in touch.

At A Glance: More Normal