Showing posts with label Belgium. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Belgium. Show all posts

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Wim van Wassenhove’s Garden, Belgium

After 4 years of living in Belgium, I realized, to my great dismay, that Belgian gardens have been greatly under-represented on this blog. Isn’t it so often true that we ignore what we have at home and look away for inspiration? In my defense, I think I can explain why this happened.

First, Belgium is surrounded by some of the finest gardening nations in the world – the Netherlands, Germany, France and the UK. The temptation to go beyond the borders is therefore somewhat understandable. But given its illustrious neighbors, one might also naively think that Belgium is the place where these influences come together to create a gardening epicenter. Alas, it is not so. As I discovered soon after moving, the most important criteria in shaping the Belgian landscape are neatness and practicality, resulting in some rather sterile gardens.  What the Belgians seem to love more than anything else are immaculate lawns, tight hedges, and all manner of pruned, trellised, pleached and espaliered plants. I believe nothing delights the average Belgian more than running outside the instant a new leaf grows beyond the planned geometry of the garden and promptly snipping it off.

Although this may sound like mocking, I have gained a lot of respect for the Belgian approach to landscaping. Training plants into geometrical shapes can be a very valuable tool in the landscape, one that I think is under-used in North America. In Belgium, the technique has been greatly refined over the centuries, and is now perhaps best embodied by the innovative work of Jacques Wirtz. Unfortunately, most of his work is in private gardens and estates, and therefore not accessible to the lowly blogger.

A Wirtz hedge in his private garden. More on his work can be found in this nice article in the NY Times as well as a post on Grounded Design, where I found this picture. 

Instead of Wirtz’s iconic work, I will talk about some small, private, and more plant intensive gardens that I visited as part of the Belgian national open gardens scheme. The first was Wim van Wassenhove’s garden. I actually went to this one by mistake, but after spending 2 hours getting there by bus, train and foot, there was no turning back (and I certainly don’t regret it). Van Wassenhove is a landscape designer and nurseryman practicing in the western part of Flanders. Immediately upon entering his garden in the tiny village of Zedelgem, it’s clear that he also has a healthy level of that famous Belgian hedge gene. Neatly trimmed boxwood greets the visitor at the front door, and a tall yew hedge carefully encloses the entire front garden.

The path and hedges leading up to the front door, and the gate to the front garden.  

At the back of the house, hedges are again in the spotlight. The backyard is defined by strong horizontal and vertical lines. The horizontal lines build up in layers, starting with the brick terrace, then the long rectangular pond that parallels the terrace, followed by the dividing line between the lawn and field, and finally the horizon line. As you go away from the house, the lines get increasingly less defined, amplifying the sense of depth. At right angles with these are the strong verticals, represented by neatly trimmed hedges. The hedges are quite narrow, and run in parallel rows that lead the eye out to the larger landscape. Van Wassenhove is, by the way, the designer who told me he uses laser guides to install and trim hedges in clients’ gardens to ensure perfect straight lines.

Moving from the back of the house to the end of the garden reveals the details of the horizontal and vertical structures. The long rectangular pool is a more formal version of the small canal dividing the property from the fields at the back of the garden.  

The central axis is very powerful, but a lot is happening on the sides as well. Neatly trimmed boxwood rectangles are scattered throughout and combined with level changes to create an interesting play of geometrical shapes. The picture is softened by looser plants inserted in between, creating a nice overall balance.

Trimmed boxwood, loose plantings and creatively used sculptures and accents work together to create a balanced and interesting picture.  

In addition to this garden, which is quite ‘designed’ and I think pretty representative of the Belgian style, there is a second flower garden. This secret garden is completely out of the way and separate from the main garden, concealed behind the greenhouses and potted beds used for the nursery. This is very typically Belgian – to hide the loose and flowery bit somewhere in the back, and treat it almost as a play area that shouldn’t interfere with the real garden.


This flower garden looks almost like a nursery itself. It’s set up as several parallel paths with borders in between (instead of potted plants). There is a lot of plant material here, and it is well grown. Obviously van Wassenhove loves his plants, even if he chooses to only use them sparingly in the rest of the garden. I visited in the middle of June, which wasn’t yet the peak for this garden. There were a lot of ‘new perennials’ in the mix (no doubt the Dutch influence next door), but surprisingly few grasses. It seemed like more of a traditional English border, but using modern plants.

Plants such as Knautia macedonica, cranesbill geranium and some roses were the highlights in early June. The purple groundcover in the bottom picture is Phuopsis stylosa purpurea, a plant new to me.  

The last area of the garden was the most naturalized. It followed a small canal, of the kind traditionally used to divide fields in the lowlands. In this narrow, boggy area, named varieties of plants mingled freely with gnarly, pollarded willows and field grasses. It seems that the Belgians can let loose after all, even if only in the furthest recesses of the garden.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Come and gone

Only a few weeks ago, I was anticipating the arrival of a harsh winter in Belgium based on the unlikely discovery of a few speckles of snow in early December. We didn’t have to wait long because only a few days after that post, it started snowing... to the tune of Belgian’s harshest winter since 1946. But almost as suddenly as it came, Belgian's big winter has vanished. We came back on Thursday from holidays in Canada to discover that the almost 2 feet of snow which we left behind has dissolved into puddles and muddy fields, and temperatures are now at a balmy 10C.

Winter may have been short, but it was beautiful. Here are a few pictures of the magical winter landscape not often seen in Belgium, taken on December 18th. The snow had that perfect quality which makes it stick to every surface. It’s amazing how much we can overlook when admiring nature and our gardens – only with snow highlighting every twig, can one fully appreciate the intricate branching structure of trees and the rich woody layers of the forest.




A snowy cover also means that we're irresistibly attracted to any colour not white or brown. Pictures of red berries in winter are so overdone, and yet it's hard not to take (and post) just one more.

Structure and colour - winter is a great reminder of these important elements of landscape.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Winter is coming

Winter in Belgium generally means gray, rainy days with temperatures rarely dipping below freezing. Snow and ice are rare, and cause complete chaos across the country when they do occur.

Well, this year, we’ve been warned: a real winter is coming to Belgium. We could already see the first signs of it this weekend at our local botanical garden in Leuven: tiny specs of snow were nestled between the fallen leaves, even though it was a sunny day. This little evidence may seem pathetic to any Canadian, but in a country where rain is the only usual form of precipitation, it’s an ominous sign.


The sun is so weak now, it’s no wonder it can’t even melt a few bits of snow. It’s dropping ever lower in the sky, and by 2:30pm there was barely enough light to take these pictures. The soft, low lighting did make for some nice effects though, especially in combination with the dried skeletons of once lush plants.


One of the advantages of borderline freezing temperatures and moist air which characterize winter weather here is hoarfrost. It's a beautiful effect, one that I often saw in gardening books while in Ontario and usually thought what a scam! Any garden can look good silhouetted in hoarfrost, but how often does it actually occur? In Ontario almost never, but here (and I suspect in the UK, where most of the books were from) it's a frequent visitor during the winter months. The pictures below are from last winter, but we've already enjoyed a few mornings of it this year. It's just a tiny patch of un-mown roadside on my way to work, but doesn't hoarfrost just make the most mundane thing beautiful?


Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Urban Jungle

I love coming across surprising little plants in unexpected places in the city. It reminds me of the incredible resilience of green things, as well as just how quickly they will take over once humans move out.

It seems that plants can make do with almost any growing condition. Here is Buddleia (Butterfly bush), looking perfectly happy on the narrow ledge of an old building in the center of Leuven. We coddle and fuss over these plants like new grandmas in Toronto, but here in Belgium they can break through concrete.


In a mild and wet climate such as Belgium's, any level or slightly angled surface can quickly be overtaken by vegetation. Moss is ubiquitous on almost any textured surface, while wider ledges can support a veritable garden. The side entrance of this local stone church was in full bloom this spring.


Old stone walls are also plant favourites, as well as tourist favourites. To me, there's nothing more romantic than an old stone wall, partially draped in wild vegetation. To most Belgians, they're really just old stone walls of doubtful structural stability. A friend has one in the backyard of her old farmhouse that I would kill for, and she can't wait to tear it down and repair it. Luckily the one around the old abbey in Leuven is still standing.



Flat ground is of course also a pretty good place for plants. This was an empty lot I spotted while riding my bike a few days ago. It looked absolutely brilliant, a perfect little jewel among cookie cutter houses and uniformly mowed lawns. Isn't it amazing that we spend so much time and effort to prevent this from happening?


Thursday, April 29, 2010

Spring in the forest

This past weekend we enjoyed that special occurrence of perfect weather as spring merged into summer: sunshine, temperatures hot enough for just a t-shirt but not too hot, and still fresh, crisp air. And what better to do on such a perfect day than to spend it outside, in our case rock climbing in Freyr, in the south-eastern part of Belgium. It’s a beautiful area with an unusual topography – rock faces and random pillars rise out of the ground in the most unexpected places, dotting a strip of forest along the banks of the Meuse river.

Our day at Freyr reminded me that the forest in spring is a magical place. Can anything ever match the incredible green colour of new leaves, or spring sun trickling through the emerging forest? Ahh, the poetry... maybe I’ll just leave it to the pictures to hopefully convey the magic.










Monday, April 26, 2010

Trees in flower

Last year, I was amazed by the spring display put on by the many flowering trees scattered throughout Leuven. Their profusion seems to be on a whole other level compared to flowering trees in Eastern Canada – each is literally an explosion of blooms. At other times of the year, this overwhelming bounty of flowers might be garish and unnatural. But now, after many months of grays, browns, and overcast skies, it's the most beautiful sight in the world. Here are a few pictures of what's been blooming in Leuven over the last two weeks.

Old fashioned saucer magnolia in the Leuven Begijnhof.


Cherry tree (don't know the variety) in bud and bloom.


Magnolia kobus, one of the most magnificent magnolias I have ever seen, in the Leuven Botanical garden.



Kerria japonica in the Leuven botanical garden.

Flowering pear trained along the brick wall in the walled garden of the Leuven Botanical Garden. The plants on the south and west walls are in full bloom, with the east wall lagging a little behind.



And random shrubs on the side of the road, still blooming their hearts out.