gardening | Deborah Silver & Co.

Thirty Years

It was 30 years ago last night that Rob and I were hosting an opening preview celebration for Deborah Silver and Company’s new venture – Detroit Garden Works. This brand new company would make fine, whimsical, intriguing, memorable and shockingly beautiful ornament for the garden available to keen gardeners of all persuasions. Ha. It was a good thing we had ideas and determination, as it would take all of that and then some to make this wish come true. By “then some”, I mean the 10 years after the opening that it took to get the shop centered, fully off the ground, and firmly in the black. We fought for it. Sincerely.

My landscape design/build firm, Deborah Silver and Company, opened for business in 1986, a decade earlier. Though the vast majority of my landscape design work revolved around the instinct to sculpt ground and install beautifully designed landscapes and gardens to life on the surfaces of that sculpted ground, I felt like a certain element was missing. An interest in art and sculpture meant I had an interest in ornament for the garden. What do I mean by that? Any object which represents a significant memory or a point of view about what is beautiful or emotionally important can imbue a landscape with atmosphere. A landscape with atmosphere is all I have ever hoped to make. Though I was keen to include this ornamental layer in my landscape design and installation projects, precious little was available.

Rob joined the landscape company in 1992, after completing his degree in landscape architecture at Michigan State University. It became clear early on that his landscape design work was austere, complex, yet casually offhand. Years later, he knows how to make a subtle and gracefully constructed arrangement look as if he dashed it off in a moment. No matter how long he labors over and reworks anything he does, it will be perfectly convincing. He is a proponent and champion of a sparse look that always hovers just over and on the right side of weedy. That early mix of modernism and mess confounded me, and drove me crazy. No design project of his ever came to a definitive close. Clients wanting direction that had parameters in mind got his tinkering with no boundaries. How did we resolve those early years, co-designing ? He had a romance going on with the garden like no other person I had ever met. I reserved judgment. This is one of the better decisions I have ever made. I truly admired his point of view. A commitment to that took me a long way. The idea that we would open a shop devoted to fine quality ornament for the garden was an idea we came to share. That he would do all of the buying for the store is that one decision that keeps us here 30 years later.

In the fall of 1992, Rob had a winter trip planned to Czechoslovakia to ski. I financed a side trip, a very casually weedy trip, to scout European ornament that might be of interest to us, and to our clients. 2 pallets representing the sum total of his shopping arrived months later. It was exhilarating. We knew the right collection of pots or sculpture could organize a landscape. An antique garden ornament saturates the immediate environment with a sense of another time and place – history. Vintage farm troughs recall that time when agriculture was so much a part of every life. Vintage ornament of an agricultural history satisfies that longing for connection to nature. Contemporary sculpture in the garden can evoke an appreciation of form, mass, and texture in a very direct and abstracted way. I wanted the perfect bench, the most striking container, and topiary forms that would work while they were being beautiful-for my landscapes. I knew that Rob would take this on.

Now, Rob buys for Detroit Garden Works. He attends the flea markets, fairs and factories. He has relationships with garden antique dealers, both in the US and abroad. He makes a point of visiting nurseries and specialty growers everywhere he goes. He makes it a point to meet the people who make things for gardens. He gives them the time and space to speak to their craft. What eventually makes its way to Detroit Garden Works in the spring of each year is a very carefully curated collection that has been assembled with a discerning eye.

His shopping is always about the stories of the people. The antiques dealers with a long history of collecting. The person who carves words into the oak boards that comprise her garden furniture pieces. The people whose pottery is still making pots going on two hundred years later. The artisan who is creating their own special brand of ornament. The dealer who has taken the time to make very fine quality reproductions of classic garden ornament. The armillary sphere maker whose attention to the science, physics, and fabrication warrants a closer look. I greatly admire how he takes the buying to heart. That big heart of his has made Detroit Garden Works a destination for gardeners of every persuasion.

Detroit Garden Works is in the business of offering beautiful ornament for the garden. Still. It could be antique. It could be vintage, and funky vintage. It could be of a French, American or Italian flavor. It could be of English origin, through and through. It could be new, with a particular point of view. It could be fun or funny. It could be contemporary. It could be arts and crafts or mid century modern inspired. It could be Belgian in origin-old, vintage, or new. It could be none of the above, just sitting here waiting for that one particular gardening client to lay claim to it. When you come here, you’ll see.

Posted on: March 30, 2026 51 Comments

Filed Under: the garden, garden sculpture, Parties and Events, Garden Ornament, Detroit Garden Works Tagged With: pergolas and arbors, garden containers, garden pots, Garden Ornament, Garden Design, Garden Furniture, Detroit Garden Works, gardening

The Collectors

I may not know all of their names, but I recognize their faces. Those people for whom the world turns on an axis determined by a garden, a landscape, or a property – firmly entrenched at the center of their universe. That landscape may be a dream, or a work in progress. It is most assuredly a life’s work. That landscape is visionary, and very personal. I would not call it a hobby, or even an avocation. I would call it a passion for nature that runs deep, and most of all, wide. That emotional landscape is the foundation upon which all else in life rests. Their interests are varied. Some collect seed. Some collect heirloom vegetables. Some collect memories of nature. Some dig, and find the smell of soil the most intoxicating perfume they have ever had the pleasure to experience. That experience of the garden is constellation wide. There is the smell of grass, the sounds of the birds, the sight of the first clump of crocus coming into bloom. Some click with and collect a specific plant. Some take great pains to prepare seed beds for a favorite species. Some see themselves as stewards. Some are all of the above, and more.

These two have been clients of Detroit Garden Works for many years. Most recently they bought the house and property next door to them. For the property, not the house. The second half of a bowl shaped parcel of land defining their landscape was part of an adjacent property. They chose to purchase that property which would make their landscape whole. The reuniting of the two pieces of land-the act of a collector.

They came to Detroit Garden Works today, and left with 2 full flats of hellebores. The discussion about which varieties would be appropriate for their garden was lengthy, and interesting. I so admire that the two of them see themselves as stewards of a large property. The lengths to which they go to look after it, and develop the landscape is astonishing. Their garden making is not a project. It is a way of life.

A smile upon the face of a collector is music to my eyes. This is not about commerce – this is about a world view. A world view that I recognize and admire. They have differing points of view about lots of issues. The one hates looking at weeds. The other hates pulling weeds. Somehow they work it out. It is obvious they have a long standing and serious romance with their garden that sustains the both of them.

The two of them weighed down with a collection of hellebores did my heart good. It is a sure sign that great plants have a strong and committed audience.

They collect earth, nature, garden, shade plants, landscape, hellebores -they grow vegetables and trees. They grow it all, in their own style. They enable us to thrive. Rob and I treasure them. Plain and simple, they are family. This is the best part of our hellebore festival. It brings out the collectors.

Posted on: March 21, 2015 32 Comments

Filed Under: Plants, Detroit Garden Works, Spring Tagged With: helleborus, helleborus x hybridus, gardening

The 2013 Garden

It doesn’t seem possible that almost 365 days have gone by since I took this picture in January of 2012. I recollect that we had almost nothing in the way of snow cover last winter; this modest January snow was a welcome relief from the winter grays. But what interested me most was how the snow illustrated the pruning practices of this particular gardener. This privet hedge has been sheared flat, and just above the previous year’s growth, for at least the past 3 years. It is a paradox, or at the least ironic, that pruning a branch results in a proliferation of growth via multiple shoots at the site of the cut. Eventually this yearly shearing will result in a mass of shoots on top so dense that light and air cannot penetrate to the interior. A hedge deprived of light and air to the interior will decline. I try to prune my deciduous hedges to look like a slice of swiss cheese. In and out, low and high-plenty of places for light to penetrate. Although I shouldn’t presume a gardener is in charge here, even the most experienced gardener makes pruning cuts that they wish they hadn’t. A slight snow in January will tell all.

February is typically a very snowy month in my zone. That snow cover is insulation against temperature extremes that can heave plants out of the ground . A February with no snow is a worry. Plants go dormant for the winter, in order to avoid injury. A cover of snow keeps my plants snugly dormant. No unwanted mid winter wake up. Given how brutal our winters can be, I favor plants that are tolerant of a wide range of winter conditions. I save my lust for plants not hardy in my zone for my containers-so much less heartbreak.

This March I did some major pruning. Jack from Guardian Tree in Ann Arbor headed back my out of control Princeton Gold maples. He topped my arborvitae at 14 feet. And he removed an old maple in serious decline from girdling roots. Years ago I planted parrotias and magnolias around this maple, knowing the day would come when it would no longer be viable. I was glad not to have to watch large portions of the the tree fail to leaf out. The understory trees will thrive, given more light, and better access to water and nutrients.

April is all about the spring light. Not so warm, this light, but there is the promise of the gardening season to come. The maples leafed out with abandon. Jack had cut the maples back so hard I was worried it would be years before they looked good. My worries were unfounded. He will be back this coming March. The maintenance of a hedge of trees requires a regular commitment. In April I was glad I had gone ahead and had the trees pruned.

Late April belongs to the magnolias. The bark, the sculptural habit, and large glossy leaves would be enough to include them in any small garden, but the flowers are swoon worthy. This April day, the green maple flowers and magnolia petals peppered the driveway. I parked in the street. This was a perfect early spring moment.

In May, the garden sings. Every plant is covered with fresh new growth. The grass is green beyond green. A pair of old Palabin lilacs on standard flower as if they were young bucks. The gorgeous shades of green is the story of the May garden. There is no garden marvel quite like the spring. All of that will to grow that results in so much fresh growth is energizing. Spring is the best tonic any gardener could hope for. Late May-the peony buds swell and open-operatic.

June is the time that the roses hold forth. I would not do without them, no matter how small my garden. Some years are better than others, but they always enchant me. The color and the perfume-heavenly. My roses have grown in this spot for 15 years or better. The most I do is to prune in April, and July, and I dead head until mid-August. I do not mind the fussing. They reward me many times over. My little urban garden-infused with romance in mid June.

In July, the roses are still representing. The big pot has been planted, and the boxwood has been pruned. Every day the four of us go to the rose garden. The corgis know exactly what I mean when I say “Let’s go see the roses”. They get there long before I do. I treasure the late day in this garden. The temperature has cooled off. The arborvitae shield the hot summer sun. I am done working for the day. This is my idea of a garden which is a sanctuary.

In late July, the Limelight hydrangeas come into bloom. Though we had a cold and rainy summer that was not so friendly to my container plantings, the hydrangeas were stellar. They were laden with flowers. The foliage was a very healthy green. The herniaria carpeting the ground plane of this garden loved the cool and rainy summer.

August was notable for the street trees that were cut down by the city. They were rotted and hollow-I worried they would fall and hurt someone. As sure as I was that they needed to come down, I regretted their demise. Big trees are a treasure-their loss is not to be taken lightly.

September was a great month for my garden. My container gardens finally picked up speed. The weather cooled. The grass grew like crazy.

October-one realizes the garden is waning. The season will come to a close. Parting from the garden is hard.. Buck shut down the fountain in mid October-over my protests. I did not want to let go. He knows when it is time to say goodby. How the moss grew in the still water!

Early December-an ice storm. The ice coating every surface is beautiful, and alarming. There was nothing to be done, except to hope for the best, and endure. No matter my worries, plants do a good job of protecting themselves from harm. They have lots of coping mechanisms for which I am grateful. So many things that govern a garden are out of my hands. But in the end, the will to live and prosper is a powerful force indeed.

This gardening year may not have been my most favorite ever, but I appreciate what I had. There is much to learn and live by, via the garden.

Posted on: December 28, 2013 13 Comments

Filed Under: Garden Stories Tagged With: the gardening season, a year in the garden, the gardening year, gardening

The 2011 Garden: 24 Moments

I took this photograph in January of 2011. How different my garden looks today. In fact, my garden looks different most every day. I tried very hard to pick only one picture to represent the garden each month-that was too much pressure. Given that I have 23 pictures dead ahead, I will quit typing, but for this. My garden gives much back to me. I could not do without it.