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A Big Loss

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASmall yards-don’t most people have them?  I would not ever describe my property in terms of its acreage.  I have a city lot, 105 feet on the short side, and 125.76 feet on the long side.  I am a steward  of 13,230 square feet.  One city lot and a half.  Just to put this in another perspective, the building that houses Detroit Garden Works is 9870 square feet.  The building that houses my manufacturing company Branch is big enough to easily house Detroit Garden Works, and plenty big enough to house my entire house and property – comfortably.  Though my landscape and garden has its overwhelming moments, it is not big.  as in sea to shining sea big.  The loss of a maple upwards of 80 years old in the front yard of the small urban property pictured above was a big loss.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe loss of a big tree that had organized, for better or for worse,  the entire front yard landscape of this small urban property, was a very big loss indeed.  The landscape had lost some of its reason for being.  Exposed for all to see from the street?  A pair of kousa dogwoods near the front door that were struggling from the shade of the maple.  A lack of any substantial landscape statement whatsoever on the right side of the front door.  A pair of yews flanking either side of the front door that tolerated the shade were all of a sudden overpowering and gloomy.  An architecturally noteworthy house looked lost at sea.  Unbalanced.  Utterly symmetrical architecture asks for an equally strong landscape.  The big bump in the front yard was asking for an answer.  The landscape-listing to one side.

pair-of-carpinus.jpgSmall properties advertise their problems in a big and graphic way.  It was not my idea to replace the tree in the front yard.  Why would I propose to repeat an idea that did little to enhance this small property in the first place?  I thought that a pair of carpinus that would flank and frame the front door, and a boxwood hedge on the right side that would answer the existing boxwood hedge on the left would bring some order to the landscape.  My clients were great gardeners, and keen about the landscape.  They liked informal, but orderly schemes.  They had long been retired, and were not so interested in a landscape that would require a lot of lifting and hauling.

front-door.jpgWe removed the struggling dogwoods.  They were so poor, I doubt anyone noticed.  The yews got transplanted.  In their stead, a pair of climbing hydrangeas.  The big leaves are a welcome leafy texture; they were not in any way bothered by the northern exposure.  Deep shade has few takers.  Hydrangea petiolaris is slow to get going, but it is amazingly shade tolerant.   The pachysandra may be the most ordinary ground cover on the planet, but it tolerates, and thrives, in tough conditions.  Lush and green on the ground plane is a good thing.

front-door.jpgWe kept the climbing hydrangea away from the front porch light fixtures-regular pruning keeps this climbing plant in bounds.  Few other vining plants can clothe a wall so elegantly.  We added a few pots to the front porch area-why not?  Though my clients were not able to handle big digging, they were able and willing to look after those pots.

winter.jpgThe columnar carpinus grew. They framed the view to the front door from the street.  They divided the the public part of the landscape from the private and personal part of their home-the front door.  Most happily, every other plant within their range was able to thrive.  The porch had a little light.  I do think that the nurturing of visually thoughtful relationships between shaded and sunny spaces in a landscape is crucial to good design. I believe it is even more crucial to small properties.  The sun and shade can provide lots of atmosphere in the smallest space.

view.jpgDirectly underneath the carpinus -dappled shade.  The pachysandra did not mind this irregular light.  It grew lush and thick. On the house side-a small sun zone.  Sun is inviting in a garden.  The light attracts the eye.  The interplay of sun and shade can provide so much interest in a very small space.  From the sun to the shade and back to the sun-this creates a visual rhythm in a landscape composition that lacks physical space.  Good design in small spaces asks for every base to be covered.  How long does it take to cover every base on a small city lot?  I am not there yet, so I can’t answer.

front-door.jpgThe loss of a very big and old tree presented an opportunity to celebrate a small front yard landscape in an entirely different way.  A change up in a small environment is a pitch no gardener sees coming.  I would encourage you to quit wringing your hands, and swing away.  As it turns out, my clients loved being freed from a maple that entirely dominated their landscape.  They were happy to have the opportunity to make the front porch details more important.

coleus-topiary.jpgI did plant their pots differently every year.  But no matter the scheme, I always planted non stop begonias.  Mr. B had a way with them that was extraordinary.  They grew for him.  I have never seen better.  Though he was always self effacing about his success growing them, I knew he brought his head, heart and experience to bear with them. The new landscape configuration was not maintenance free.  No landscape thrives without attention. But a thriving landscape gave him the go ahead to devote his efforts to growing on the plants in his pots.

yellow-begonias.jpgI want to say that his pots gave him immense pleasure and satisfaction. No matter what day I would drive by, the pots always looked perfectly tended and beautiful.  We took care of maintaining the rest.  I will say they had a rich and involved gardening life long before I met them.  I worked for them for many years, before they sold this property, and moved to the east coast to be close to their children.

walk-to-the-door.jpgThe changes we made in this landscape were over a period of twelve years.  I was happy for my part in this.  Their thoughtful thirty years gardening before me, and my twelve years of revisions made for an updated design that worked for them.

hornbeams.jpgThey sold this property several years ago.  Ill health and age triggered a change.  I understood this.  Landscapes and lives evolve.  They day they lost that old maple-a big loss.  The day they gave up this house and landscape, and moved away-a big loss for me.  Small properties, such as they are, have a big story to tell.  A big hearted landscape design on a small property- all about a story.

 

Where Would You Like To Sit?

I took a picture of my tripod outside the shop today.  I shortened the telescoping legs as much as I could.  This height put my camera just 24 inches above grade.  What is my idea here?  The perspective from which you view a garden, or a landscape, much influences how it should be designed.  My driveway is set at the same grade as my basement.  This means that even though I have a 1 story ranch, I see my driveway from a deck which is one story above that basement.  I don’t really spend time in my drive.  I load the dogs, and drive to work.  I unload the dogs when I come home from work, and walk up the basement steps to get into the house.  But  Buck and I frequently sit on the part of the deck that overlooks the drive.  This means we are looking down on that landscape.  This garden is an overlook garden. 

My tripod set at 24 inches tall records a different view.  The view I see when I am seated in my garden.  This post is not only a discussion of those factors that influence landscape design; it is my prelude essay to talking about choosing and planting containers.  The questions I ask first up, whether it be a consult for a landscape, garden, or containers-how will you view it?  Will you be looking from a second story window?  Will you be sitting next to it on a lounge chair on the terrace?  Will you be looking as you drive or walk by?  Is this a space you view from a window, or a place where you sit and spend time?  

Small containers are perfect on an outdoor table.  When you are seated, the presentation of a container and a planting is close to eye level.  The view of an 8 inch diameter pot when I am standing-a bird’s eye view.  Small pots, containers and urns need to be elevated for good viewing-and placed where you are likely to sit. 

Seated on a bench, I have a great view of these handmade Italian Terra cotta pots from the side.  I also have a great view of a pair of machine made Italian terra cotta pots.  What do I make of this?  Those places where I sit in my garden, those containers need to be every bit as beautiful as what is planted in them-I have a view that asks for that.  I sit in my rose garden.  I have faced down my arborvitae with boxwood; I need a landscape element at eye level that is beautiful.  Arborvitae tend to get thin and straggly at the bottom.  Were I viewing the arborvitae from the second floor, I would be less concerned with their habit at ground level. What is all around me in that part of the landscape where I spend time needs to stand up to close observation.  Places where I am looking from afar, or looking down-I need serviceable containers that feature the plants.  Any fabulous pot or garden ornament needs to be places where it can be seen-regularly.

Though I might be seated in a garden, I would not want every element at the same level.  A change of level provides great interest.  This two-tiered planter welcomes other elements at its feet.  It also permits a view through to an element further away.  The Cotswold stone pedestal is a visual stopper; it is solid and weighty.  The mix of the delicate steel legs and solid stone,  the objects set at different levels is visually interesting.  Every element here is providing company to what I see when I am seated. 

When I stand in my garden, the sky, and the trees of my neighbors comprise a large part of my view.  When I am seated, the sky is eliminated from my view.  The view as pictured above represents a much more intimate garden experience.  Landscapes that involve mountains and sky make for a much different, less personal experience.  

I have been made much more aware of the importance of what goes on at eye level, thanks to my corgis.  Their legs are barely 8 inches long.  They experience the world at a level that I never do-unless I am lying down on the lawn in my yard.  The world is entirely  different from this perspective.   

I love how I am seeing every container in this picture from the side. Low to the ground makes for clear observation of the details.  In the landscape industry, some trees are designated “park grade”.  This means they will suffice visually at a great distance.  A poorly grown tree will not survive visual scrutiny up close.

Many changes of level are represented here.  Were I to photograph the same spot while I was standing, the changes of level would not read nearly so well.  The idea here?  Any place you view your landscape standing up should be tall and taller-and then very tall.  Create an interesting great view at eye level.  The pots you choose for your front porch need to read from the street, and read when friends come to call.  This means large pots, planted rather tall.     


All of the dogs are greatly entertained by each other, and by what goes on near the ground.  It is a landscape they recognize-a world friendly to them.  There is a lot going on here-at their eye level.    What goes on in your landscape needs to engage your eye-wherever that eye of yours might be.  Well done landscapes engage on many different levels.

July 4th

The last stop, on my 4th of July holiday overnight?  A visit to the Gilmore Car Museum in Hickory Corners Michigan.  Don’t forget, Buck was on this trip too.  As any machine that moves and moves fast is of great interest to him, our friends knew he would really enjoy it.  I am a Detroit girl, so of course I like cars-but I was not really prepared for what I saw.    

There are over 200 cars in this privately maintained collection. All of the details of how Donald and Genevieve Gilmore came to collect cars, and then open this museum can be accessed via their website- www.gilmorecarmuseum.org. Situated on 90 acres of land, there are 10 restored or reproduction old barns, all maintained in pristine condition. 

They house all manner of motorized vehicles, each one a visual treat.  Most of them I had never seen before.  Though their forms were incredibly varied, all of them had one thing in common.  They were sculpturally interesting objects in their own right.  I cannot imagine the design skill, thought, ingenuity, inventiveness and science that went into the manufacture of these objects. So many different fields of expertise are represented in each vehicle; many people and many processes had to come together in a very precise way.  It is equally as amazing that these vehicles were made in numbers.  This museum is a visual education in the history of the automotive industry.  

This model A Ford was dated 1903.  But for a few dings in the paint on one side panel, it looked brand spanking new.  The woven wicker baskets on each side-gorgeous.  I don’t have much to say about the individual vehicles, as I know so little about them, but I did have my favorites.     

1963 Chrysler turbine

Checker Motor Co cabs

hardtop Metropolitan

 Ford Cobra, courtesy of Carroll Shelby

DeSoto detail

This 1947 DeSoto was my favorite. 


This was an in depth look at a uniquely American phenomena, and an appropriate way to spend a few hours in celebration of Independence Day.

The grounds were every bit as uniquely American style as the automobiles.  The museum sits on a giant tract of land.  As far as I could see, mowed grass, and a few maturing shade trees-mostly sycamores. 

This is a vast landscape, mostly devoted to wide open spaces.

It poured hard for 20 minutes while we were there; what a pleasure to watch the rain.

This dose of Americana-inspiring.

Monday Opinion: Sharing

Gardener/readers write me on and off, astonished about the degree to which I am willing to share my knowledge and process.  Why wouldn’t I?  I was raised to believe that sharing with others was good.  If you are like me, you grew up with a Mom who encouraged sharing.  Share a toy.  Share you seat on the bus.  Loan your sister your prized sweater. Share the letter your teacher sent home with you with your Mom – this would be a Mom talking.  Share your questions, hopes, fears, and aspirations.  That call to share had another call attached to it.  Share, with the idea that you might help.  If you are able to share such that you can help others, help them.  I arrived on this earth endowed with plenty of infantile selfishness-it took a Mom to temper that.  Did I really want to share my prized baloney and mustard sandwich on white bread with a classmate who had no lunch?  Not until I was instructed that sharing was a very special kind of giving.  A kind of giving that was part and parcel of being a decent human being.  My Mom assured me I would feel good about it.  And that what I got out of the giving was in the end,  irrelevant. This also from my Mom.   I may have had no relationship whatsoever with that kid who had no lunch.  I may not even have known her name.  But if I could get by with a half a sandwich, which of course I could, it was incumbent upon me to share the half I could do without with another.  It was the right thing to do.  And it did, incidentally,  feel good.  Now, the sharing seems effortless.  I am by no means the exception.  I believe that people come by the instinct to give and share, naturally-don’t you?

The right thing to do-what is that?  Every gardener, and landscape designer, comes face to face with this question over the course of a project.   I like to share the design process with a client, just like nature reveals herself to me.  In a genuine design relationship, lots of things are shared.  Needs, dreams, concerns, budgets-there are lots of topics to cover.  The client’s issues are invariably more important than mine.  A beautiful design that does not work for a client is not necessarily a beautiful design.  It is a design the heart of which fails to engage a client.  This is a polite way of describing a dust bin.  Just my opinion, this.

In the shop, we try to share the best advice we have available.  A client with whom we do not share our knowledge is a client who has not gotten from us what they should.  No matter my willingness to share, there are those times where we fail. I take that failure personally.  We should be able to give timely and sound advice.  That given, there are those times when what gets said doesn’t get heard-or what was heard bears no resemblance to what was said.  This happens all the time.  Communication is the art of life, is it not?  Some things that go wrong in the garden can be squarely attributed to the nature of the season.  Other things that go wrong might be attributed to a casual share, without any depth, or an insincere communication.

I have this communication problem on occasion with my garden.  I may plant what I want, without listening to what has been shared with me by nature-about my weather, my zone, my seasons, my soil-you get the drift.  I am eminently capable of being insincere with nature, as I don’t really want to answer to her.  What I do not hear can come back to haunt me.  Yes, usual sharing implies another who is engaged, and listening.  Nature does neither.  Nature has no need for a relationship with me. I am a small part of a much bigger scheme.  She has no time for me.  The entire burden of a successful relationship with nature depends on me.  How tiresome is this?  A gardener of the true sort establishes a fluid truce with nature-this is a kind of sharing.  Sharing, with the primary responsibility clear from the start.   Sharing as I usually experience it as a designer is a person to person pursuit.  That sharing works some times-other times, not.   Most people have shared something at one time or another that has not been heard.  Operas have been written and performed for centuries about this.  It is tougher than it appears, sharing in a real and thoughtful way.

The most difficult moment in the landscape design process comes at the beginning.  You have a design to present.  You have a conceptual plan to share.  Taking enough time with this part is essential. The design is a collaboration-there is the sharing of information that goes back and forth across the table.  That sharing may take a lot of time to transform into a final plan.  Once there is agreement on the big issues, there are lots of details to share.  Secondary but so essential to sharing-patience.  Patience is not my long suit, but I try.  Patience can also be overrated.  Knowing how to bring an unfounded worry to a close is a way of sharing that is caring.

The second most difficult moment is that moment when a project is done.  You will no longer be there every day, working on this part, but watering and tending that other part that is finished.  Some clients can see instantly that moment when an installation becomes their garden-they say thank you much, and push off on their own.  Bye Bye.  Other clients are less confident.  You may need to drive by, regularly.  Sometimes it’s important to keep on sharing until there is no more need.  Am I good at this?  Sometimes.  Other times, I call the memories of my Mom in- to give me a hand.

I would share anything I know about horticulture or design with anyone.  What I know is just my experience-nothing more, and nothing less.  Is my knowledge special?  Not particularly.  What works for me is different than what works for lots of other gardeners.  As much as things in the garden fail, lots of things work.  Designers would do well to keep that in mind.  There is no one way.  There are lots of ways.  Do I worry that someone else might duplicate my work from something I shared with them?  No.  My eye is my eye-this part of me is not transferable, nor can it be replicated in every detail.  Lucky, this-for everyone involved.  Anyone who might try to replicate my work will eventually be frustrated and unsatisfied.  Hungry.  Every person with a sincere interest in the landscape needs to rely on their own vision to finish a garden, or a landscape, or a moment.  Every landscape I design and install needs a client to eventually sweep the scene with what is all their own.  Having had good advice and design help, eventually being left on one’s own is a very good place to be.    There is so much satisfaction to be had from one’s own invention.  Some create gardens on their own.  Some create landscapes via a relationship with a designer. All sincere paths to good design are good paths.

Whether you are a landscape designer, or landscape architect, or a passionate gardener,  I will respect you enough to assume that you are a creative person whose job it is to imagine a project, and research anything you need to bring that project to fruition.  I assume you are able. There are no shortcuts.  Take the time, and do the work you need to do.  The work you put to any project will, in the end, reward you.  What someone has shared with you is not necessarily the gardening gospel.  It is a point of view.  And not necessarily your point of view.  Trust your eye.  If you cannot trust your eye,  look outward.  Most importantly, look inward.

I have a big interest in good gardening outcomes.  World wide, there are so many beautiful landscapes and gardens that support that idea.  Your computer is a means by which you can learn.  What is out there being shared?  Garden Design by Carolyn Mullet-I read her facebook page every day.  The time she takes to share-extraordinary.  Her editing, and choices of a topic to share-equally extraordinary.

What comes of your exposure to the work of others is that germ of an idea that might inform your own garden.  Respond honestly and passionately to the work the work of your designer.  In the interest of a better outcome-share what you can.  Listen when you have a mind to.  The aura created by that sharing all around – beautiful.