garden design


In my last article for the monthly magazine Hertfordshire Countryside, I allowed a smug comment about our mild weather to creep into the text and was rewarded, a few days later, by six inches of powder snow and temperatures down to minus 12 degrees C.  The distances I travel to visit clients have increased enormously since the days when I was based at a Hertfordshire garden centre, so observations of that sort will be kept to a minimum from now on, in the interests of road safety.

These visits see me gardening in an ever increasing variety of climatic conditions: a trip to Cornwall in January was swiftly followed by a garden in the Sologne region of forests and lakes of central France; in a few days time I will be in the Dordogne to help turn a muddy field into a glorious garden for an English ex-pat family.

Frosted Hellebore

Frosted Hellebore

While growing conditions are different at each of these properties, my teaching involves me in the gardens of students from around the world. We have one who lives at 6,000 feet in Colorado Springs, where there are frosts for 200 days of the year. Other challenges include low humidity, fluctuating temperatures, bright sunlight, heavy calcareous soils and drying winds, which often restrict plant growth more than low temperatures. Another student studying garden design with us is currently living in semi-tropical Australia. I am learning as much as I am teaching these days.

Our own garden is still nowhere near completed so perhaps I can be forgiven for dreaming about how it could be. No longer do we have teams of landscapers at our disposal, keen to help out the boss when work is slack. Now, if I need a patio or a new lawn, I have to either lay it myself or pay a landscaper to do it for me, just like any other homeowner. Unlike our clients, I will not be witnessing the creation of an instant garden and this time it is likely to take us several years to sort out. Perhaps that’s how it should be.

Hamamelis

Hamamelis

Many times on the pages I have suggested that if there is not much in the way of flower or interest in your garden at a particular time of the year you should take a look around a garden centre or nursery to see what plants will fill the gap.  In our last garden I used to make a point of counting the flowering plants over the Christmas / New Year holiday and could normally find a dozen or two species. This year we had just two plants flowering outside – Jasminium nudiflorum and variegated Skimmia Magic Marlot – and a couple of Camellias in the unheated, north-facing conservatory. There were a few berries too, from Pyracantha and a Holly planted in the shade of our ancient Sequoia, but this lack of colour and interest must be addressed with some urgency.

One plant I miss from our English garden is Sarcococca. I planted one close to patio doors where its sweet scent could be enjoyed for many months over the winter. We had it hidden behind a black stemmed bamboo so that visitors could smell it but not see it without a bit of effort. Sarcococca or Sweet Box is amazingly easy to grow and thrives even in shade. A suckering evergreen shrub, it comes in a number of varieties from Sarcococca confusa, the largest at up to 6ft tall, to diminutive Sarcococca humilis. Our plant was S. hookeriana var. Digyna, tidier and with pinkish flowers on an elegant little bush. As a Chinese native I have mentally reserved a place for one in our Oriental Garden.

Daphne

Daphne bholua 'Jacqueline Postill’

Fragrance is one of the benefits of many winter flowering plants; our potted Camellias sasanqua and grijsii are both delightfully scented and give pleasure to anyone coming to the front door. A favourite scented plant I have yet to own is Daphne bholua ‘Jacqueline Postill’, ‘Peter Smithers’ or the similar ‘Penwood’. While my heart says to go for the first, the other two are more reliably evergreen and equally perfumed. Any of these will satisfy me however and I trust one will be planted here before too long. I have a Daphne mezereum in the garden but, as so often happens, the plant has been grow in a nursery field and potted before sale, resulting in damage to the root system that prevents it thriving. The scented purple-pink flowers of this European shrub are a joy at this time of the year but I have been singularly unsuccessful in growing it so far.

We already have a fine Witch Hazel, Hamamelis x. intermedia Arnold Promise which, while not flowering for Christmas did not keep us waiting long. H. x. intermedia is a cross between species from China and Japan and this variety was bred in America by the Arnold Arboretum in 1928. The incredibly fragrant, bright yellow flowers appear just a few weeks before Forsythia and so can be thought of as providing a kick-start to spring.  It would be nice to also grow one of the red flowering cultivars and of these Diane perhaps the best.

Iris unguicularis

Iris unguicularis

We have planted a selection of bulbs and both Snowdrops and Winter Aconites are ideal for early flower. Snowdrops spread rapidly and the gardens around the old mill at Chabris have thousands growing in the lawns. Iris reticulate and unguicularis can be relied upon for winter flower while some of our Daffodils also begin to flower in February.

The list of “missing” plants I dream about includes some common plants like Mahonia media, a plant I rarely fail to specify for the gardens of my clients. Again scented, again yellow, I like the story about the naming of the three Mahonia varieties Faith, Hope and Charity, bred at the Royal Gardens, Windsor were I worked under Hope Findlay.

Chaenomeles, the flowering Quince, is commonly grown here but has yet to make an appearance in our garden. With more than 70 varieties to choose from I shall be looking for something out of the ordinary, perhaps Cameo or Geisha Girl in peachy-pink, Lemon and Lime with pale green flowers or C. ‘Toyo-nishiki’ which displays flowers in red, white and pink variations and has large fruit ideal for jam making.

Helleborus hybrid

Helleborus hybrid

I find it hard to accept that we grow no Hellebores and jealously eye flowering plants in neighbours’ gardens. We have always had Hellebores in our gardens, either H. orientalis, the Lenten Rose, or H. niger, the Christmas Rose and used to carefully select seedlings to maintain interesting colours. Now hybrids exist between many species and the range of colours, leaf forms and flowering times has expanded along with their popularity. With plants selling for up to £25 over here I shall be hoping to buy one during a UK trip or beg for seed from a local gardener.

So many people tell me that they rarely venture into their gardens during the winter and this seems such a shame. Those who brave the cold weather should be given some encouragement and reward for doing so in the form of beautiful garden plants. I hope this review may inspire you to add extra colour and scent to your own garden.

“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.”~Marcus Cicero, 106-43 BC, Roman statesman and philosopher.

Winter can be hard on the gardener. We are longing to be outside but are generally stuck indoors while all around us blizzards rage. This is not strictly true in my more gentle part of the world, but I feel you those of you in less equitable climes. While Cicero may have left out a few essentials with which my adopted home is well blessed (art, music, wine, food, anyone?), garden books make it much easier to survive the dreary weather.

Pyracantha with berries

Pyracantha with berries in Chabris

My own collection runs into scores and ranges from antique, leather bound works by eighteenth century radical agriculturist William Cobbett and the plant hunter George Forest, to those great little “Expert” books by DG Hessayan. My first copy of Be Your Own Rose Expert set me back Two shillings and six pence and was bought to assist customers on my parent’s nursery in Cornwall. I have several others in the series, one or two in multiple additions as they were updated to reflect new varieties, new techniques and gardening fashions.

We moved to the Loire Valley from Hertfordshire 16 months ago and have been slowly organising our home, social and business life ever since. There are still unpacked boxes in the loft and buildings awaiting renovation and most of my books are stored out there somewhere.

We did come across a few in the early days and the RHS Encyclopaedia was one of the first to be unpacked. A boxed set of two volumes, this is the third edition that I have owned and is completely indispensible to me. It is not perfect -  in a world where new varieties are released every year it is impossible for a book like this to be completely comprehensive and up to date – but it is about as good as such an ambitious work could be.

It describes over 15,500 garden plants, many with photographs, and lists them in the only sensible way: alphabetically, by Latin name. The large format makes it a pleasure to leaf through in idle moments and for those times when you need to identify an unknown plant, a pleasant hour skimming through the pictures normally results in a find. If you know what you are looking for and just want to check cultivation notes, you can go straight to the plant concerned. Now that my growing is slightly more exotic I welcome one aspect that I used to find irritating: the number of plants in the encyclopaedia which I was not able to grow in southern England.

Before the RHS encyclopaedia was published, my favourite of this type was by the Readers Digest and every so often I still refer to my battered copy of The Encyclopaedia of Garden Plants and Flowers dating from the ‘70’s. At half the price but with only a fraction of the plants, it remains a great reference book with a much more practical edge than the RHS encyclopaedia.

Mahonia

Mahonia brings a little winter cheer to the streets of Angers

Of course if you want practical, the Royal Horticultural Society does practical, and a series of publications approaching plants and gardening at different levels are available. I have various books under the RHS banner on plant pests and diseases, fruit cultivation, herbs, vegetables and many specialist subjects. They are all written by experts in their field, whose authority is beyond question.

A great deal of our time is these days spent teaching gardening, garden design and a range of horticultural subjects, mostly by distance learning. Our Chinese clients think this is an admirable thing to do: to pass on ones knowledge to those coming up behind. We have a surge of bookings for courses during the winter, with gardening amateurs and professionals using their down-time to improve their understanding of the subject. For much the same reason we always have plenty of garden design appointments at this time of the year.

I find teaching is both pleasurable and instructional: you learn a great deal, with personal prejudices challenged and memory stretched by the probing questions and demands of students. The internet gives them such extensive access to information that your task is to explain errors in judgement and interpretation rather than just to dish out facts to be accepted without question. Our courses now include some serious vocational studies like the RHS Diploma in Horticulture however, and facts are facts. These sometimes need to be checked, so I’m glad I still have access to all my old horticultural books from back in the days when I was a student at Pershore College.

Holly berries

Ilex meserveae Blue Angel

Now that we live in France it is fascinating to compare and contrast French gardening books and magazines. I subscribe to ‘Jardins de France’, the excellent revue of the SNHF, the French equivalent of the RHS, while still receiving The Garden from the Royal Horticulture Society in England. I also have a few French gardening books, although many of the best over here are translated from English. Le Guide Clause-Vilmorin du Jardin is the latest version of an encyclopaedia I have been using for many years, since working for the seed company Clause near Paris. It tries to be comprehensive and has sold over 5 million copies, but the use of common names, French common names, drives me crazy!

Before I lose the tenuous grasp I still have on the English language, I am determined to write my second book. “Was there a first”?  I hear you ask, as well you might for all the impact it made in the book shops at the time. At one stage I was considered an expert on bedding plants and this was the subject of my little book. These days I have CAD training to offer to garden designers and while we do quite well from residential courses it is suggested there is a need for a training manual on the subject. The outline is done and the plan is to complete the book this winter. It may have been last winters’ plan as well!

Another profitable way to pass time at this time of the year is with the latest editions of the seed catalogues. We are still sent these automatically by many of our favourite suppliers while others need to be hunted down and paid for each year. New varieties are the stuff of gardening and seed companies understand this. Old varieties are rebranded and presented as something new while, it is true, some genuine novelties appear most years. Planning your new floral displays and the vegetables you are going to eat this summer is one of life’s great pleasures and accompanied by mulled wine around a roaring log fire……or was that the latest Disney Christmas film?

Gardening is full of romantic images like this and it is hard to deny that it seems to fill some great need in the human psyche. Whether you consider gardening to be “the new rock ‘n’ roll”  or a connection with “the good life” with which so many of us have lost contact, the pursuit of gardening is something that links us to each other and with nature in one single, shared activity. If this activity is slowed or even brought to a halt by inclement weather and the passing of the growing season, we can still dream, surely?

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My reader from a cold climate will have noticed that winter is fast approaching. Even here in the Loire Valley most of the deciduous plants are naked after, in many cases, treating us to a final, fiery display of autumn leaf colour.

Our St. Catherine’s Day Magnolia planting was partly in preparation for this season. It is a far too valuable and beautiful specimen to lose. I have been getting in the ground as much as I can from my last delivery of plants so that they would not be frozen in their pots over winter. The soil acts as an insulator from the cold and, in the case of tender subjects like perennial Salvia uliginosa and Artemisia Powis Castle, I have planted deeply to make the most of this property of the soil.

 
Christmas cactus

Christmas cactus in the conservatory for the winter

Some plants have had to stay in pots for the time being. My little collection of winter flowering Camellias has been placed, in cold weather at least, in our unheated and rather leaky, north facing conservatory.

Here too are a pot of Begonia and another of Geraniums, which used to sit outside the door of the Gîte. It will not be the end of the world if they don’t survive the cold but I hope they do.

When the climate dictates I will also move the Tree Fern under cover joining the huge pot of Christmas Cactus which will soon be in flower. Eventually this conservatory could be something really special to greet clients and other visitors when they arrive at the front door. At the moment however, most of the space is taken up by office furniture and carpets awaiting a final home, so it rather lets us down.

Lemon tree under fleece

Lemon tree under fleece

Our two lemon trees, brought from our home in England at great trouble and expense, have been treated to a pair of fleece covers with which they have been enveloped for some time now. This allows rain and some light through, but allegedly protects them from the worst of the frost and cold winds. These plants have not had a comfortable life since being turned out of their lovely conservatory in Bedfordshire and dragged, kicking and screaming, to this country. It’s sad to see them suffer but in the fullness of time a home will be found for them in the new office building: when we finally get ‘round to building it.

Other plants are dotted around the garden waiting for me to dig a bed to accommodate them. These will have to deal with the cold as best they can but the wet is equally a factor in winter plant loses. I have ensured that these pots do not sit on the ground in such a way as to become waterlogged. It is for this reason that when filling a tub or other display container you must add gravel, crocks or other materials inside to keep the drainage holes clear. It is also worth considering raising the pot off the ground during winter to create very free drainage of excess water.

Drainage is an important aspect of the soil as well, but harder to modify. Vulnerable plants can be planted in little mounds of soil to improve drainage, or grit can be added. Underground drainage pipes can be installed in particularly difficult sites but if you garden on heavy clay soil you have to accept that your soil will be cold and damp over winter and plant accordingly. We moved to mid Bedfordshire to escape the clay soil in Harpenden and here in France the soil is wonderful.  This will allow us to over-winter plants not dreamed of in our earlier gardens.

We have two enormous Sequoias in our property, as our regular reader will remember. These give us a few problems, but three great benefits: the dappled shade they provide is ideal for woodland plants and we have created an oriental style garden of Camellias, Rhododendrons, Hamamelis, Japanese Maples and other plants here; the soil nearby is dry, supporting plants which need to keep their roots this way and the overhanging branches act as protection from the frost. Consider placing your own frost-tender plants in the shade of a tree over winter.

Calendula

Calendula as living mulch

 

We have tried one other trick this year to protect some tender plants from the cold. I sowed seeds of Californian Poppies, collected from plants flowering in the garden, around a clump of Salvia argentea hoping that they would act as a barrier to the cold and keep the soil a little drier. I did the same for newly planted Euphorbia giffithii Fireglow and used Calendula in a similar way elsewhere. It will be interesting to see how this turns out.

In gardens in the village some plants, notably large palms and Oleander, have been wrapped up in bubble plastic, while Arum Lilies have been covered in thick layers of straw mulch. I have noticed a few improvised cloches which shield plants from damp in addition to keeping them warmer -  our silver-leaved Salvia would enjoy that sort of protection.

If you must grow tender plants,- and I must even if you don’t – these sort of protective measures will ensure, as much as you can ensure, that your treasures make it through to the next growing season.

25th November – St. Catherine’s Day – when planting is guaranteed to be successful.

I had been saving the planting of my Magnolia grandiflora until today and plan to have a St. Catherine’s Day plant for every year we are here. Last year, our first autumn in France, I planted a couple of fruiting Cherry trees on the eastern garden boundary and the Magnolia is now settling in halfway between the two. The stocky plant has a couple of flower buds waiting to open and makes a nice evergreen punctuation point on that side of the garden.

Magnolia grandiflora

Magnolia grandiflora planted on St. Catherine's Day

There are no beds over there at the moment – I had been leaving that side uncultivated to allow access for the builders when our log cabin goes up. The planting hole was therefore dug out of an area hastily cleared for the purpose and is still surrounded by weeds in this neglected section. It’s had a good feed and plenty of water and I shall be talking to it on a daily basis; and with St. Catherine on my side, how can I go wrong?

 

This planting is also part of my preparations for winter which, despite all the mild weather, must be just around the corner.

 

My recent lecture to a group of visiting UK garden enthusiasts, made me think about my experiences of gardening and garden design in France.  I was also keen to show them slides from the International Garden Festival at Chaumont, which I have been going to for years.

Chaumont is challenging for the average garden enthusiast, but a “must see” event for professionals, being a show committed to the outer reaches of contemporary garden design. Abstract themes have been set each year since 1992 to encourage designers to create the unexpected, to think “outside the box”. There is nothing quite like it anywhere else, although imitators come and go. Every year a number of visitors stay at our B & B or gîte to witness this amazing gardening event.

The list of themes is interesting, but bear in mind that when written in French many of them have dual or obscure meanings in a deliberate attempt by the organisers to illicit a range of responses from garden creators. I’ve talked about this show before, I know, but not provided this list:

¨  1992 Pleasure

¨  1993 Imagination during the economic crisis

¨  1994 Acclimatisation

¨  1995 Unexpected gardens

¨  1996 Too much technique, not enough poetry?

¨  1997 Water, water, everywhere

¨  1998 Ricochets

¨  1999 Only vegetables

¨  2000 Freedom

¨  2001 Carpet bedding etc

¨  2002 The Erotic Garden

¨  2003 Weeds

¨  2004 Chaos: order and disorder

¨  2005 Gardens have memories

¨  2006 Play in the garden

¨  2007 Mobiles: gardens for a world on the move

¨  2008 Gardens to share

¨  2009 Colour

This year’s event was surprising in many ways, with many gardens seeming to lack colour rather than celebrate it. There was much discussion on the use of black (is it a colour?)  and on the nature of gardens (what is a garden?) but fear not gentle reader, there were also plenty of plants to admire. The gardens are left in place to develop and grow from March to October and maintained by students of the horticultural college on the site.

I often take students attending Academy residential courses to Chaumont as a stimulus to debate. Some of the more animated discussions have gone on well into the night, lubricated by more than a little Touraine wine; such is the provocative nature of the festival. Garden designers on our CAD training events have been very enthusiastic in general, but even amateurs with us for the ‘Design your own Garden’ workshops have enjoyed it.

Our most popular course has proved to be the RHS Certificate in Horticulture (level 2), offered by distance learning with course notes on CD and support by post and email. Garden Design and Garden History are also attracting students, mostly British but also a few Americans. A few students live in France as we do, but most do not. We work closely with a distance learning college in Australia which gives us access to a very wide range of professionally written courses.

While we now spend a great deal of my working day teaching the science, art and craft that is horticulture, gardening and design, it keeps our feet on the ground to see the country folk around us working with nature and the seasons.

Many of our neighbours have vast gardens while others work in the fields of the Berry or the vineyards of the Touraine. Gardening tasks are often (I was going to say, religiously) undertaken on Saint’s Days and planting on St. Catherine’s Day (25th November ) is a guarantee of success:  “a la Sainte Catherine, tout bois prend racine” – “on St. Catherine’s day, the trees take root”. We will plant a Magnolia grandiflora this year and have no doubt it will thrive, as did last year’s Cherry trees.

I like to talk to the locals about their customs and traditions and learn much about living in this rural community from them. We find we have adapted to the pace of life and like everyone, keep our eyes peeled for wild food such as mushrooms and walnuts while walking the dog through the countryside each day.

I also like to give something back and have helped identify plants, advised on pests and diseases and suggested horticultural techniques they may not be aware of locally. They don’t always accept my advice and no amount of self-promotion seems to impress them, but I have had some successes. I was recently discussing Cloque du Pécher (Peach Leaf Curl) because I needed a photograph of the disease for one of our RHS Certificate students. Would she be spraying for it? I asked the garden owner. Yes, I was told, but not until after the full moon! I should have known really: the region was once notorious for witch craft.

Teaching the science of horticulture is relatively straightforward: the facts are all in the course notes and students’ answers to test questions are either right or wrong. In addition to the RHS Certificate we also offer an Advanced Certificate and the RHS Diploma: a vocational qualification of some seriousness. Teaching garden design is different. The subject is a wide-ranging mixture of art, craft and science and opinions on garden aesthetics are subjects for debate rather than learning by rote.

Students are expected to work through the Certificate in Garden Design in around 700 hours but in practice you never stop learning with a subject like this. It involves everything from soil chemistry to playground health and safety, in addition to plant knowledge and drawing skills. The course has modules in garden history, surveying, drainage and rockwork. Even after designing more than 1000 gardens I would never claim to know it all and in fact one of the joys of teaching is learning from your students. It’s stimulating, challenging and still great fun after all these years.

Some of our students have asked me to get involved with projects they are working on. A recent design contract in Cornwall came to us from a student.

A few of our students clients have written to us to ask for references and many are amazed that training and qualifications are available in subjects like garden design and horticulture. I come across gardeners and garden designers in the UK and France with little interest, knowledge or experience charging as much as highly qualified professionals. I am proud to now be in a position to pass on what I know to those who wish to do better in the industry I have worked in all my life.

The visit to Courson was a wonderful day out but the International Camellia Society had arranged further trips for the following day and I was invited.
First stop was a tour of the Arboretum Vilmorin, courtesy of a personal invitation from Mme. Natalie de Vilmorin, whose family owns the property. The four hectare arboretum is located on the site of a former hunting lodge of Louis XIV, acquired by Philippe-André de Vilmorin in 1815. He transformed the grounds into a collection of trees and shrubs acquired by plant hunters from around the world. The arboretum contains nearly 2,300 identified species, many rare and large.

Arboretum Vilmorin

Arboretum Vilmorin

 Although flowers were few and far between, to be able to walk amongst so many rarities with such a knowledgable host was a special treat.

We were invited to come again in the spring, an invitation I, for one, will be taking up.

Our second stop, after a meal in the Boulogne-Billancourt suburb, was to the Jardins Albert-Kahn. These were created between 1900 and 1913 by Albert Kahn, a banker and keen amateur horticulturist. There are several styles of garden, ranging from the Japanese garden and village, the undoubted star of the site, to formal French and English gardens. Amazing too, were the garden of blue Cedars and the recreation of forest habitats.

Jarden Albert-Kahn: Japenese village

Jarden Albert-Kahn: Japenese village

It is so easy to lose yourself in this fantastic garden and so difficult to believe you are in the centre of France’s largest city.  Kahn is also famous for his photograph collections, recording the lives of ordinary people from around the world. He sent out photographers to bring back this record and they are regularly exhibited to today’s visitors.

Jardins Albert-Kahn: French gardens

Jardins Albert-Kahn: French gardens

As before, flowers were hard to find and another visit in the spring is a must for next year.

As noted in my previous post, last weekend I was the guest of the International Camellia Society and the RHS Rhododendron, Camellia and Magnolia group, as nice a bunch of people as you could hope to meet in a garden in France.

Friday we visited Les Journée des Plantes at Domaine de Courson, south of Paris. This is my favourite plant fairs and we try to go every year – so much easier now that we live in France, only two hours away by motorway.

Courson - the chateau from across the lake

Courson - the chateau from across the lake

The ICS had its own stand and I took the opportunity to meet them and buy a Camellia, a variegated sasanqua variety called Okina-Goroma, with pink flowers during the winter. I hope to keep this in a pot in the unheated conservatory which covers the north side of our house, to enjoy the flower and scent as you come to the front door.

As usual the range and quality of plants was astonishing and although I bought several, there were many wonderful plants I wanted which had to be left. Last year I regretted not buying a Skimmia japonica Magic Marlot and I made up for it at the stand of Pépinière Tous au Jardin, from whom I also bought a smashing Hydrangea paniculata called Great Star.

Hydrangea paniculata Great Star

Hydrangea paniculata Great Star

The nursery had many fine Hydrangeas and I was pleased to see they won an award for H. involucrata Mihara Kokomoe Tama, together with the Press Award for the best display.

Also on the stand was Mahonia nitens Cabaret, a new variety which is already on my “must have” list for next year.

Mahonia nitens Cabaret

Mahonia nitens Cabaret

It cannot be said that plants are cheap in France, and with my pocket money disappearing fast I had to be quite selective. Guillot supplied me with a couple of Roses, including one from their Generosa range, similar to David Austens modern shrub roses.

We have been meaning to visit the Cayeux iris fields for years but have yet to make it: next June I hope. In the mean time, I have satisfied my desire for their plants by buying three, together with a Hemerocallis called Burning Daylight. From Darmartis I bought our second Lagerstromia, this one a dark pink, purple almost, called Dynamite. They also had variegated Euphorbia Tasmanian Tiger and this was added to the collection in the plant creche.

I had replaced a couple of plants left in the UK: Salvia uliginosa and Phlomis purpurea, bought a couple of grasses and a very pretty strawberry coloured Hydrangea hortensis Mirai before I relaesed I couldn’t afford to eat for the rest of the trip and called a halt to it. I made do with looking at everything the other members of the group had bought, jealously eying the Magnolias in particular.

This show can bring out the worst in you if you are not careful!

I look forward to Courson, the twice-yearly plant fair held at the Domaine de Courson, Essone, in the countryside south of Paris.

If you are passionate about plants the event is blissful, with nurseries from around Europe showing their wares in the park of the chateau. It has a relaxed country fair feel but the staggering range of  high quality and rare plants available to purchase always leaves me with a feeling of shock from overexposure to so many bank account-draining temptations.

This year there is an added thrill for me having been asked to talk to the International Camellia Society (and the RHS Rhodendron, Camellia and Magnolia Group) at their hotel after visiting the show on the Friday. I am busily preparing slides for them, concentrating on my other favourite French gardening event, annual the International Festival at Chaumont.

On Saturday 17th they are off on a trip to a couple of unique gardens, the Arboretun Vilmorin and the Jardin Albert Kahn and I am delighted to have been invited. In fact, wild horses failed in their attempt to drag me away!

Les Jounees des Plantes de Courson is on 16th – 18th of October. You really ought to go.

www.domaine-de-courson.fr

One of the joys of teaching horticulture is the conversations you have with fellow garden designers, growers and landscapers. As part of a residential course on CAD held at our home in France recently, we visited The International Garden Festival at Chaumont where this year’s theme was “colour”.

The artists and designers seemed puzzled by the theme and had difficulty in just letting themselves go. Black was much in evidence. Black isn’t a primary, secondary, or tertiary colour. In fact, black isn’t on the artist’s colour wheel and usually isn’t considered a colour at all. Instead, black appears when you bring ANY colour to its darkest value.

Chaumont 2009 Garden in black

Chaumont 2009 Garden in black

Artists, of course, do use black extensively, there exists a society for black plants and Karen Platt’s nursery near Sheffield, England, specialises in them.

This garden was constructed entirely in black and as we sat outside with our black standard poodle I told anyone who commented that she was the designer!

Europe’s entire production of Ophiopogon planiscapus ‘Nigrescens’ seemed to have been requisitioned for the show while for the red gardens there was no shortage of  Imperata cylindrica Red Barron – Japanese Blood Grass.

Chaumont 2009 Garden with Imperata Red Baron set against Silver Birch logs

Chaumont 2009 Garden with Imperata Red Baron set against Silver Birch logs

On the whole we found the use of colour at the show unadventurous and, at the time, disappointing. My thought is in a country where every roundabout and verge is a mass of colourful plants, the designers felt they had to be clever and come up with something different. In many cases, they failed to impress: pity.

But this is a show that rewards a little thought and looking through the photographs I took during the Garden Design Academy visit has been easily as exciting as seeing them in real life.
Back in Chabris, after a meal and a few glasses of white Touraine, we continued to chat about the use of colour. People have preferences but I have had several clients who have hated yellow, enough to tell me off severely when I allowed a few yellow flowered plants to stray into a planting scheme.

 

My own view is that it is actually hard to go wrong with colour in the garden: Nature didn’t employ a designer to create the wonderful scenes I see all around me (skipping around any religious view s you may have on the subject). But it is also possible to create some fascinating effects at any one time and throughout the seasons with careful design.
Just to prove it is possible I have started to establish a yellow garden, or rather, an area where many of the plants I grow have yellow foliage or flowers. I am particularly pleased that it seems possible to grow several variegated plants in close proximity: yet another general rule successfully broken!

Bee on Caryopteris Summer Sorbet

Bee on Caryopteris Summer Sorbet

Residential courses are held at irregular intervals throughout the year at the Garden Design Academy, Chabris, France. Details on: http://www.gardendesignacademy.com

Chaumont 2009 Garden in Red
Chaumont 2009 Garden in Red

Autumn is a gorgeous time of the year here in Le Centre, bringing mushrooms, the grape harvest, wild game and relief from the heat of summer. It is a time of harvest festivals celebrating everything from Berry green lentils, to apples and pumpkins and, it seems, life in general. And all of this is played out against a backdrop of rich autumn colour from cultivated as well as wild trees and shrubs.

Apple Festival in the Sologne

Apple Festival in the Sologne

France is a good country to see truly spectacular displays of autumn colour. So often the weather is fine at this time of the year, giving the ideal combination of sunny days and cool nights. Here in the Indre, we are surrounded by forests of oak, birch, hornbeam and other trees and nearby chateau parkland hosts fine, old heirloom trees that put on a magnificent display each year.

Autumn colour at the Chateau de Courson

Autumn colour at the Chateau de Courson

But autumn colour is not just for grand spaces – it can be created in your own garden, giving you a display that is every bit as exciting. For many people planting in the garden often revolves around the spring and summer months – but autumn too is a time when the garden can be a place of real beauty.

Between our gardens at home and those we have planted for clients we grow a very wide selection of plants exhibiting autumn foliage colour and I am always disappointed when we are asked for a garden that is largely evergreen. When a garden does not change with the seasons, one misses out on the wonderful transformations that come with a natural landscape.

Acer palmatum disectum with autumn colour

Acer palmatum disectum with autumn colour

Our best area at home features both trees and shrubs with many, such as Sorbus, also carrying berries. With a background of hawthorn and hornbeam hedges, pride of place must go to the Japanese maples, of which we have four sorts including the deeply cut foliage of our old Acer palmatum atropurpureum, currently turning deep crimson. Even more spectacular is Cotinus grace, now a huge bush after five happy years with us and Euonymus europaeus Red Cascade, a variety of our native spindle bush which grows wild in the countryside and gives us both colourful leaves and fruits.
Part of the skill of a garden designer is to exploit plants to enhance seasonal effects. For me, there are two ways to use autumn colour well. The first is to scatter appropriate plants throughout the garden so that the eye is drawn from one plant to the next in a visual journey. This technique sounds simple enough but with so many other factors to consider it can be difficult to achieve without compromising other planting – having carefully created a ‘white garden’ for instance, bright red autumn colour in this same area may come as a bit of a shock. And autumn colour viewed against a background of dead and dying herbaceous plants will inevitably detract from the effect unless you cut back to clear the area around them.
When designing your borders keep autumn in mind and if you have not included something autumnal by the time you are halfway down the bed, now is the time to add something. A deciduous Berberis here, a group of Ceratostigma there, adds areas of red and orange to the scene and creates hot spots of colour throughout the garden. For those with a mature garden consider removing one or two under-performing plants and replace with a clump of ornamental grasses or perhaps a small tree such as Prunus subhirtella Autumnalis, which provides both autumn foliage and flower.

Trees and shrubs for Autumn colour

Trees and shrubs for Autumn colour

If you have the space it may be easier to take the dramatic approach – concentrating plants within a section to create an autumn garden. As leaf colour changes day by day there is little need to select specific shades when a wild mixture of plants creates the most exciting display. Given the time of the year it would be worth constructing pathways to make it comfortable to reach, while a gazebo, summerhouse or other ‘abri de jardin’ would create a cosy spot to view the colours. The Japanese often design viewing points into their gardens: a place to linger and appreciate the scene that has been carefully crafted for visitors.

Rhus typhina Tigars Eyes

Rhus typhina Tigars Eyes

While I have suggested the use of coloured foliage, there are also plants with berries and flowers at this time of the year and your autumn garden might also contain some of these to extend the all too fleeting period of display from the changing leaves. An example of this type of garden might include a tree, Liquidambar in a larger garden, Rhus or Amelanchier if space is limited. Liquidambar with its Maple-like leaves is a favourite here in France, while Amelanchier boasts attractive shrimp-pink new leaves, white flowers and black berries in addition to its bright red autumn leaf colour. Common Rhus is lovely but we have just planted the variety Tigers Eyes which promises spectacular leaf colour from a more modest sized tree.
Next we might add a shrub and Arbutus could fit the bill very well. It is evergreen and at this time of the year carries both Lily of the Valley-like flowers and fruits which resemble strawberries. More flower and scent too, could be added using rose pink Viburnum bodnatense Dawn, which will continue to give pleasure throughout the winter. Down at ground level you could try the Autumn Crocus or Colchicum, with huge pink or white flowers. Waterlily is a double variety which has given us much pleasure over the years.
In between these a few herbaceous perennials: Anemones like September Charm, and perhaps a few grasses. In our last English garden we had a huge clump of Cortaderia richardii, a form of Pampas from New Zealand, but also Miscanthus in several varieties, Pennisetum and others, all adding to the beauty of the garden with their feathery flower panicles.
While our new autumn garden is young you could fill in the gaps with some Pansies, but the allocated space will soon fill and give pleasure for years to come.

AUTUMN COLOUR FAVOURITES
I am always being asked for my favourite plants – a impossible request when I love so many and my choice changes faster than the seasons – but I will suggest a few you might like to try.
Trees for autumn leaf colour
• Liquidambar (Sweet Gum) with maple-like leaves and corky bark, leaf colour in good forms is crimson and gold. Beware of cheap seedling-grown plants which may not colour well; try Worplesdon or some other known variety.
• Quercus rubra (or Red Oak) is a large tree planted extensively in local woodlands. Best colour is on lime-free soil.
• Sorbus aucuparia Asplenifolia has both orange berries and bright red foliage in the autumn. There are many other types of Sorbus, all of them worth considering.
Shrubs for autumn leaf colour
• Acer japonicum Aconitifolium and other Japanese Maples for attractive cut foliage turning crimson. Best in a little shade.
• Cotinus coggygria Grace is a spectacular variety of the Smoke Tree, native to the south of France, with purple-red foliage turning scarlet. The leaves are translucent so if you can, position it to be viewed in the evening sun.
• Deciduous forms of Azalea colour richly with yellow, orange and crimson forms according to variety. Bright flowers in the spring, often sweetly scented. If you have the space and soil which is not chalky, grow lots!
Autumn flowering plants
• Hebe Great Orme. A superb evergreen shrub whose pink and white flowers are produced over a very long period, often to Christmas.
• Kaffir Lily, Schizostylis, a South African bulb flowering in shades of pink and ideal for a warm spot.
• Anemone hybrida Honorine Jobert with pure white flowers and yellow stamens, looking lovely next to Maples in our garden.
• Miscanthus sinensis Zebrinus. A late flowering grass with gold bands decorating the leaves. Great in cut flower arrangements.
Plants with berries / fruits
• Pyracantha is a spiny shrub often trained against walls or used as a hedge. Stunning crops of yellow, orange or red berries. The birds will thank you for it.
• Pernettya: highly decorative berries on small evergreen bushes, but only for acid soils.
• Malus. Crab Apples in a wide range of forms, but generally ideal for a small garden. I’m fond of yellow fruited Golden Hornet.
• Cotoneaster. There are low ones, tall ones, variegated plants and weeping forms. For a large space Cornubia is unsurpassed and for yellow berries match it with Rothchildianus

Ask me tomorrow and I would come up with a completely different list of favourites but I hope this brief look at the possibilities will inspire you to celebrate autumn colour in your own garden

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