The Toronto Botanical Gardens: Piet Oudolf's Entry Garden Walk

Piet Oudolf has done many high profile projects all over the world, but one that you may not have heard much about is the Toronto Botanical Garden.  That’s not really surprising since it’s a tiny project for Oudolf.  But for me, it’s a garden close to my former Toronto home and therefore close to my heart, and I have greatly enjoyed following its development since Oudolf was first commissioned for the job around 2005. In collaboration with local firm Martin Wade Landscape Architects, he managed to transform an utterly nondescript piece of land (I can’t even remember what it looked like before), to a fresh and complex garden.

The Piet Oudolf Entry Garden Walk at the Toronto Botanical Gardens, in January 2013.

First, I should explain something about the Toronto Botanical Garden, or TBG. You see, it’s not yet what you might think of as a botanical garden.  To date, the physical gardens cover only a few acres, and are actually only the entry gardens from the parking lot to the TBG building.  The TBG grew out of the Civic Garden Center, which was where the gardening community of north Toronto got together and hosted flower shows, garden club meetings and friendly educational events.  One day, an enthusiastic committee decided that it was time to get more serious and launched the Toronto Botanical Garden initiative.  They campaigned and raised funds, renovated the building, established a strong educational programme, and commissioned the entrance garden.  But the entrance garden is only a small start.  The TBG also sits at the head of Edward Gardens, a large former estate park that follows one of Toronto’s many creeks south through the city.  There is a lot of land available here, and if the TBG is ever to become a true botanical garden, this is the place it will have to grow into. But for now, we have an entrance garden, a Piet Oudolf one nonetheless!  



The garden showing its full glory in early fall 2012.

Martin Wade Landscape Architects were the main drivers of this project, and were responsible for the general layout and several of the individual gardens.  Oudolf’s contribution was the Entry Garden Walk, a long narrow walkway squished between the parking lot, the road, and the main building.  This garden consists of two fairly wide borders that flank a long straight path, with some small lateral shifts worked in for interest. Oudolf really had his work cut out for him in trying to achieve a satisfying and complex garden in this very exposed and narrow space. The plantings are done in his typical flowing prairie style, as one might expect, and were designed around the same time as the Lurie Garden in Chicago and Battery Park in New York.  

 

The narrow borders of the Entry Garden Walk.

The plant palette is recognizably Oudolf and suits the site and climate very well. It’s an open sunny site, and Toronto has hot dry summers and cold snowy winters.   Grasses like Deschampsia cespitosa (Tufted hair grass), several varieties of Panicum and Pennisetum,  and perennials like Echinacea (both white and dark wine colours), Perovskia (Russian sage),  Knautia macedonica, different lobelias, salvias, asters and many others are right at home here.  Although small, it’s a garden I have learned so much from.  Every time I visit, I notice a new and wonderful plant, which I must immediately add to my parents’ garden.  Some pleasant discoveries have included Calamintha nepeta ssp. nepeta,  which requires absolutely no care and always looks great, and Limonium latifolium (Sea lavender), with gorgeous, delicate sprays of flowers over much of summer.  But although I have used many of his plant selections as inspiration, I have not been able to copy Oudolf’s incredible sense of design.  Proof of this is that every time I go to the TBG with my parents, they stop to admire all sorts of plants and ask if we can’t add them to the garden. When I have to tell them they’re already there, I realize they just haven’t noticed them because they don’t look as good.  They might be growing as well, but they just don’t shine in the same way.

The garden in summer (early August), fall (early October) and winter (early January).



The Oudolf garden at the TBG has evolved a lot over time. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find older pictures to show the garden soon after installation, and all the pictures here are from 2012, six years after the garden was planted. You’ll just have to take my word for it that the composition has become much more intertwined and complex as the years have gone by.  Reading the TBG website, I have also learned that the maintenance of the garden included absolutely no deadheading for the first 3 years in order to allow plants to self-seed and form a “sophisticated meadow”.  Now the plants are selectively deadheaded or weeded.

 

The evolving sophistication of the garden.  Plants are interweaving on all possible planes.

Oudolf has also added some unexpected elements to his design, in partnership with Martin Wade. For example, against one glass wall there are three espaliered crabapples, Malus ‘Donald Wyman’, which are planted at an angle.  While this may be a common technique in Europe, it’s not something often seen on this side of the pond, and for a long time the TBG got a flood of comments about when the trees would finally be straightened out. 

 

The angled Malus trees planted against an etched glass fence are most noticeable in the winter.  In the summer, they form one layer of greenery together with the rich underplantings and a row of paperbark maples, Acer griseum.

At the entrance to the building, there are also several boldly shaped hedges of mixed Fagus sylvatica (European beech), Fagus sylvatica forma purpurea (Purple beech) and Cornas mas (Cornelian cherry) grown within large metal frames. A very neat concept, which immediately added structure to the entrance area before the hedges were grown.


Decideous hedges grown within wire frames make a dramatic entrance to the TBG building in all seasons.

Well, that is just Oudolf’s part of the garden, and it’s taken me a lot longer to describe than I thought for such a small garden.  I’ll get to the rest of the TBG entrance gardens in the next blog – although small, they are home to some bold new design approaches and interesting plantings. 

Grugapark, Germany

I visited the Grugapark just outside Essen in south-west Germany based on Noel Kingsbury’s list of recommended gardens. As the list is very short and select, and includes Hermannshof and Westpark in Munich, I had high expectations. Unfortunately, this was the first garden that disappointed in Germany – it definitely doesn't deserve its place of honour alongside the other names.

The first difficulty with Grugapark was finding it – following Google directions, we first ended up at an impressive hospital in the middle of a forest with absolutely nothing else around it... surreal. A lot of broken German and driving in circles later, we finally found signs for the park, but it was still a while before we hit on a real entrance.

Grugapark is an extensive public park, mostly of the classical public park variety - old trees, neat lawn and asphalted walks. A nice enough place for city people to air out. Some sections of the park were originally built for some kind of garden show. Of these there are some model gardens left over, that suffer from all the classical ailments of model gardens –impersonal, out of place, predictable.


But never mind, because what I really wanted to see at Grugapark were the large naturalistic perennial planting areas. These were roughly in the middle of the park, somewhere between a very old fashioned rose garden (which, though not cutting edge gardening, did smell divine), and various sports fields.


The first perennial planting area was a sort of sand dune habitat, with a lot of sand, a few plants that didn't seem to want to be there, and a lot of weeds that did. A weedy sand beach... not the best look. Unfortunately, this highlighted the main problem with the rest of the perennial garden, namely the maintenance. There were large bare patches of ground throughout, and unhappy looking plants trying to battle it out with the weeds. I think Noel Kingsbury himself
remarked on the lack of upkeep of public plantings in Essen in a recent blog.


Garden maintenance is an interesting issue, and has been the subject of a few blogs lately. I think it’s great that many people are considering lighter approaches to maintenance, and working with the natural balance and spontaneity of the garden. However, the very definition of a garden is a place created by humans, and some human presence is necessary to maintain the intent of the work. Sometimes very little is needed to do that, but somebody should still be on hand to guide the natural balance from time to time, and edit appropriately if that balance is not found. Otherwise, a garden can end up just looking disheveled and sad.



The good news is that some sections at the Grugapark perennial garden managed to achieve balance on their own, which was interesting to see and learn from. For example, the aster plant family really thrived in the local conditions. Many varieties flourished together, and nicely covered the ground while outcompeting invaders. Unfortunately, my visit during the first week of September was a bit too early to see most of them in flower. And grasses, the usual tough subjects, were also doing well, but I didn’t find their use particularly inspiring. They were planted relatively sparingly and often seemed lost in the large open space.





Lastly, as often happens in life, the things we really look forward to can sometimes disappoint, but the unexpected can often provide a pleasant surprise. In the case of Grugapark, I most enjoyed a marsh and pond area on the far side of the garden. This section was mostly naturalized vegetation, hence circumventing the maintenance challenge altogether (the easiest solution – if you don’t have funding for maintenance, don’t make a garden that needs it). The lake was framed by a few very simple decks with chairs to sit on. A geometrical network of boardwalks sitting right on the surface of the water provided a way to walk across the small pond. Most interesting were a number of swamp cypresses (Taxodium distichum) planted directly in the water. Not all of them were doing well, but some planted on slightly shallower ground were thriving. All in all, a very simple human made framework that highlighted the natural beauty of the setting and helped people enjoy it.

Hermannshof, Germany - Part II

Hermannshof is a fantastic, public experimental garden hidden in the small town of Weinheim in south-west Germany. The aim of Hermannshof is to showcase “successful examples of new directions in planting design, especially in the naturalistic planting style”. There is too much interesting stuff happening in this garden for just one blog, so this is part two. Last time I tried to give a little tour of the North American perennial garden, which uses many of the very striking flowering perennials we've come to know and love through the New Perennial movement. Although the North American perennial garden is open and uses a mix of both perennials and grasses, it’s a perennial flower garden rather than a prairie inspired garden. The separate prairie inspired gardens are the topic of this post.


The prairie gardens are found at the entrance section to Hermannshof, and are based on the tall and mixed grass prairies of North America. But signs are quick to point out that the gardens are not meant as a re-creation of a prairie, but rather an artistic interpretation of the prairie idea, which seems to so captivate European gardeners.


I found it very interesting to contrast these gardens with the previous North American perennial sections. Grasses make up the bulk of the planting, with flowering plants mixed in but at a pretty low percentage. The colour is predominantly green in early August, though it would be very interesting to see it later in the year as grass seed heads and fall colours become more apparent.


The planting seemed extremely informal and relaxed, but I think that belies its complexity. Flowering perennials were mixed in with layers of grasses in intricate ways. In some instances, there were large colonies of certain flowers, such as Echinacea angustifolia below. In other cases, many different single plants could be found in a small area. I wonder how much of this is controlled and how much is self-seeded, and what they do for maintenance in this garden.





In early August, the height of the plants was already impressive. Walking down some paths, you felt completely swallowed by the vegetation. The best 'garden' experience in my mind.



Although the North American prairie garden did get top billing, there were also two sections devoted to its European cousin, the Mediterranean steppe. I particularly liked one of them, which was used as a lead-in to the woodland sections. Shorter grasses dominated the scenery, and I especially admired the fluffy, soft seedheads of the grass below. Anyone know what it might be? Autumn moor grass (Sesleria autumnalis) also looked great, with very clean, bright green foliage. It was the perfect partner to lime green Peucedanum verticellare, which I didn't know before but it was used to great effect throughout this area.

Autumn moor grass (Sesleria autumnalis) in the foreground and the umbellifer Peucedanum verticellare (or Angelica verticillaris)

The prairie and steppe sections at Hermanshof are some of the most complex and interesting gardens I have seen so far, and I think it’s especially impressive to find them in a public park. It’s quite bold to use so few flowering plants in a public garden in a very non-traditional design. But there were a lot of people walking around who really seemed to enjoy themselves and pay close attention. Perhaps a small example that people will respond to many kinds of gardens.


I'm afraid there will have to be a part three for Hermannshof – it's getting late and I just haven't had the time to go through all the woodland pictures yet. And I have to pack for a trip home to Canada! Hurray!

Peter Janke Garden, Germany

I have been very, very behind on my blog lately. A common complaint in the blogosphere, usually followed by a vow to do better, which never materializes. My impression is that making unrealistic blog resolutions is the beginning of the end of a blog. So I'm not going to make any promises, only try to keep plugging away at the many gardens still in my un-blogged stash.

I am now finally getting around to the Germany trip of last fall, one of my best garden visiting trips so far. The first garden we went to was Peter Janke's in Hilden (near Dusseldorf), which I learned about through James Golden's Federal Twist blog. Janke is a nurseryman, garden designer, and one of the leading figures in the exciting German landscape design scene.

His garden is a very large, rectangular piece of land, bordered by a very busy road on one side and an impressive mature forest on all others. The driveway bisects the property from the road, and leads to the central house and nursery. The driveway is the first impressive feature of the garden, with a very simple but striking use of Verbena bonarensis as edging along both sides (about 20m long stretch I would guess).


The right half of the front garden is occupied by a simple meadow with a circular pattern of mown grass in the middle, as well as a mown path bordered by fruit trees. At the time of our visit, the grass was uniformly tan in colour, with few other interlaced plants.


The left half of the front garden is taken up by the gravel garden, inspired by Beth Chatto's work in Essex. Peter Janke has studied with Chatto and credits her as a great influence on his work. This garden was absolutely spectacular at the time of our visit on September 4th. Everything seemed to sparkle in the autumn sun: delicate grass blades and seed heads, silver foliage, papery fall blooms and spiky dried flower heads.




At the back of the property lies the woodland garden, where the presence of the mature forest is keenly felt. This garden is cool and wet, in contrast to the open front areas. Simple mulch paths snake through it, along the edge of the forest. The garden is so lush you can hardly see outside of it. Many small and larger ponds are hidden between the foliage, and some were covered in a copper or rust coloured film. I'm not sure what the source of this is, but it made for an interesting contrast with the surrounding green.




Everywhere in the garden, there were little details that caught my eye, such as the interesting border edge below.


Or the wild abundant herb garden, with plants popping up through every crack in the paving, creating that beautiful contrast between geometrical and organic lines.


And the imaginatively pruned or placed trees throughout the property.



It was definitely a treat to be able to visit this garden. It combines a great mix of modern and classic, both in the design and the plants. It might have been even better if I spoke German as Peter Janke did a tour of the garden (we visited on a special open day). Would have loved to learn from what he had to say, although the garden was already a good teacher by itself.