Chaumont-sur-Loire Garden Festival, France

Visiting the Festival des Jardins at Chaumont-sur-Loire was a dream come true, and an experience that I would highly recommend to any enthusiastic gardener/designer. This garden festival is the complete antithesis of the uninspired and commercial gardens we visited at the Appeltern “garden idea park” in the Netherlands. Chaumont-sur-Loire offers up garden design as art, with the style and grace perhaps only the French can pull off.
The festival has a few things going for it that make it unique. First, you really can’t go wrong with a setting on the grounds of one of the most beautiful castles in France, in one of the most picturesque regions of the country. Even the entrance way (pictured below) is beautifully landscaped. Second, the gardens are truly billed as art. Their design is often a collaboration between students and artists from very different backgrounds, including landscape architecture, painting, sculpture, and graphics, resulting in creative and original designs. The festival is also perfect in scope, featuring only 24 gardens, just enough to satisfy the eager visitor, but still leaving you wanting more.

It's hard to pick favourites, but here are a few of the gardens I really enjoyed. The theme of last year’s festival (we visited in late August 2009) was colour.

Graine de conscience, by Florence Mercier
In a very small space, this garden moves through three vastly different habitats: lush tropical forest, prairie, and stark desert/rock. I loved the modern style, and the completely seamless transitions between spaces – the habitats couldn’t be more different, yet their connection seemed natural and almost inevitable in this garden.



La ligne jaune, by Gaylord Le Goaziou, Maythinie Eludut et Julien Viniane
The colours in this garden were amazing! We couldn’t get a very good angle to show off the whole garden, but I think the pictures below illustrate the brilliance and inventiveness of the colour combinations.


Transposition, by Florimond Gauvin and Mathouta Vongphouthone
With a spiral boardwalk and beautiful planting, this was a simple garden that managed to be novel and comfortable at the same time.




Lessive en fleurs, by Anaëlle Madec, Jean-François Madec, Clément Constantin
This garden made smart use of a creative element, laundry, to show off colour gradation. By using the very obvious colour theme in the laundry, which is easy to control and obvious to all visitors, it helped highlight the parallel colour motif in the planting. I like gardens with clear themes that any visitor can immediately connect to and understand. The wind also added an interesting element, making the laundry as alive as a windswept planting.






Etang donné, Christophe Cuzin
One of the unique features of this festival is that gardens must fit into a mature site, generally a key requirement in “real” garden design. This particular garden was set in a tiny clearing surrounded by high trees, with only a little bit of light coming in through the central opening. The simple design was perfectly suited to the spot and managed to create a magical and mysterious place. Things don’t always have to be too complicated.


Pénombre, by Alvaro de la Rosa Maura and Patricia Diaz Agrela
Wow – a perfect example of a powerful garden created by exploiting the essence of a single plant, in this case Japanese blood grass. Everything in this garden worked to show off the unique interplay between grass and light, including the contrasting white birch trunks and circular design to show off different lighting angles (and to ensure that backlighting would always be available from at least one angle).



Le jardin "Mange-tête", by Steven Fuhrman, Samson Lacoste, Luc Pinsard
Top marks for fun and creativity. The "head-eating" garden offered coloured bulbs to stick your head in and get a whole new colour experience of the otherwise quite plain planting. People spent a lot of time enjoying themselves in this garden trying the differently coloured bulbs, which were even set at varying heights to accommodate everyone.



Writing this and looking at the pictures of last year just makes me itch to go back again. The theme this year is “Body and Soul" - sounds intriguing...

Cologne Botanical Gardens, Cologne, Germany

In late December, we visited Cologne to check out the famous German Christmas markets. Of course, I couldn’t let a trip to a new city go by without a visit to the local botanical gardens. So after stuffing ourselves with great food at the markets - everything from the standard bratwurst to delicious cedar plank salmon washed down with generous quantities of mulled wine - we walked along the Rhine river to the gardens. I wasn’t expecting much given the time of the year, but for a gardener from Eastern North America, there were definitely some surprises in store. Winters are only slightly milder in this part of Germany than what I’m used to in Toronto, but what a difference it makes!

The most amazing sight was a planting of camellias in a woodland section. Camellias look like tropical plants, with shiny evergreen leaves and huge peony-like flowers. Appearances can be deceiving though, as these plants were growing completely unprotected and beginning to flower in late December. I had to touch them to make sure they weren't fake.

Another impressive plant was Viburnum x bodnantense 'Dawn'. Not only was the entire shrub covered in light pink flowers, but the beautiful fragrance dominated a whole section of the garden, perhaps helped by the crisp winter air and lack of smell competition from other plants. Lucky are the gardeners who can enjoy this in their gardens in the middle of winter. In Ontario, the plant is hardy but doesn’t flower until spring.

We also spotted a small tree bearing flowers. It looked almost like a cherry, but I have no idea what tree would be flowering so profusely at this time of the year and it wasn't labeled.

One display reminded me that even cold climate gardeners have access to great plants for the winter – grasses. With the right lighting, the effects created by grasses are hard to beat.

Overall, the garden was enjoyable but perhaps not exceptional. It did make me a bit jealous of Cologne gardeners though, who can enjoy magnificent camellia blooms, fragrant shrubs and flowering trees in their gardens at this time of year. Oh, and I didn’t even mention the rhododendron we spotted blooming … in December!

Appeltern Gardens, the Netherlands

Appeltern is a difficult place to describe. Basically, it's a permanent exhibition park for show gardens which, as of 2009, featured an astounding 190 individual model gardens. Exhibitors range from large suppliers in the horticultural and construction trades, to smaller landscape firms, to individual designers. At first glance, the concept sounds amazing. I was picturing a permanent Chelsea Flower Show, with more gardens, more designers, and real-life, walk-through gardens. Sadly, while there are some interesting and worthwhile things at Appeltern, overall it just doesn’t work. At the end of the visit, I was left with the awful feeling that I don’t want to see another model garden for as long as I live.
Let’s start with the good things about Appeltern. This may seem superficial, but I was completely blown away by the maintenance of the whole place. I’m not sure whose responsibility this is, but every garden was impeccable. All the plantings were full and lush with not a single diseased plant or weed in sight (maybe this should be worrisome). In the formal areas, everything was perfectly clipped, while in the natural areas, there was just the right balance of contained wilderness.
Some gardens were really worthwhile, especially in the Architects Gardens (Architectentuinen) area. They were creative and managed to rise above the crowd, which is pretty impressive in a crowd this size. One of these was the garden by Ton ter Linden (below). We walked into the garden, not knowing the designer, and immediately loved it. It got me thinking about how good gardens are instantly recognizable, and what sets these gardens apart from the rest?
Now to the bad part. It’s difficult to put a finger on what exactly is wrong at Appeltern. As I think the pictures show, there are many good things here (all the pictures are of the 'good' stuff), and in fact none of the gardens were obviously ‘bad’. However, at their core, it seemed to me that the majority of gardens suffered from an unshakable feeling of fakeness (sorry, that’s the best term I can come up with). Clearly, the gardens are ‘fake’ because of the very premise of the park. Most other art forms, such as paintings or sculpture, are easy to exhibit. Garden exhibition, however, is a tricky thing, and a garden must be that much better to succeed in such a setting. It’s certainly possible, but unfortunately most gardens at Appeltern don’t manage to achieve this.
In many gardens, the ‘fake’ element was obvious – anything with a perfectly set ‘entertainment’ area or a built-in barbeque (the whole ‘outdoor living room’ concept) automatically falls into this category for me. Disappointingly, even many of the gardens with no specific tacky elements felt that way. The gardens that tried to break out of the mold by offering something new and creative seemed like they were just copying the latest trends.
But perhaps the biggest downfall of Appeltern, ironically advertised as its biggest attraction, is the sheer size of the place. At 13 hectares (32 acres), it took us a few hours at a brisk pace to get through it. At the end, we were completely gardened out. Nobody can enjoy and absorb this many gardens. Gardens are supposed to be unique and magical, not 190 in a row.
Overall, I wish I could erase my experience at Appeltern. It has tainted my view of show gardens by reducing them to mass-produced, assembly line commodities (of which gardens are supposed to be the exact antithesis!). Gardens are meant to inspire a feeling, to evoke an emotional response. As a place that is supposed to be a source of education for the gardener, I suppose Appeltern teaches us that great gardens can’t be achieved simply through nice paving, some plants, and the latest outdoor decoration.

Priona Gardens, the Netherlands

The third garden we visited during our trip to the Netherlands was the Priona Garden, designed by Henk Gerritsen together with the late Anton Schlepers. This garden is closely connected with the gardens of Mien Ruys and Piet Oudolf, the other two famous Dutch gardens we saw on our trip. Together, I found that this beautiful trio perfectly illustrates the evolution of Dutch garden philosophy over the last 50 years.
The starting point for all is Mien Ruys’ garden philosophy of "wild planting in a strong design", where structure and plants get equal billing. Piet Oudolf builds on Ruys’ concept, but tips the balance in favour of the plantings, with his strong swathes of prairie style plantings and bold perennials and grasses. The Priona Gardens go one step further: Ruys structural foundation is now almost completely obscured by the plantings, which have gone from ‘natural’ to downright wild.
The Priona Gardens blur the line between tended garden and wild area. At first, I was taken aback by just how loose the garden is, just how un-gardened. The feel, at least as I experienced it as a visitor, was that of a very recently abandoned garden. The garden elements are there, it is clearly tended by a human hand, but it’s as if the gardener just happens to be away this season. This is as natural as a garden can possibly get while still retaining some fundamentally recognizable garden features. Some will definitely not like it, but perhaps this is what gardening needs – to push the envelope of what exactly gardening is, a phase many other arts have gone through. Of course, it’s a fine line, and it doesn’t always work.
At times, the Priona Gardens are brilliant, while other times you lose the feel of the garden. The pond and patio in the two pictures above were beautiful, as was the weird and wonderful topiary area below. I think both captured the intended feel of the garden exactly. Other areas pushed the garden a little too far into the wild, and the result was only a jumble.
Overall, a really interesting garden offering a glimpse of a very different, and thoughtful, garden philosophy.

Piet Oudolf Gardens, the Netherlands

When gardeners plan trips to the Netherlands, one of the main reasons is usually Piet Oudolf’s garden in Hummelo. Given that he is one of the most prominent designers today, it’s no wonder that the gardening masses flock to see what he has created in his own backyard (or actually front yard).Needless to say, I am no different and have been planning a trip there since arriving in Belgium. When I finally found myself on the way to his gardens this past September, my expectations were soaring. But with high expectations also comes the risk of disappointment. What if Oudolf’s garden wasn’t quite as amazing as I was hoping it to be? What if after all the pictures I’d seen and books I’d read, it would just be old news? It’s terrible to be let down by your heroes, and I’m easily disappointed by gardens that I build up too much in my mind.
Well, luckily for me and everyone else, Oudolf did not disappoint. In fact, it’s quite amazing that even with all of the preconceived ideas and advance knowledge, his garden still managed to impress. In broad terms, Oudolf’s main theme is the use of grasses and large perennials (especially North American prairie species) in a loose style designed to “inspire a feeling of nature”. It sounds and looks fairly straightforward, but it’s a hard style to replicate, or at least to replicate well.
In his design and planting philosophy, he advocates shape, form and texture first, and has proposed that colour is only secondary. Ironically, I found colour to be one of the most stunning elements in the garden. Colour inspires the strongest and most immediate response in humans, and Oudolf does it so well I find it hard to believe it was left to secondary consideration. Of course it’s all in the presentation, so it’s all about how the colour is communicated to the viewer. It’s the texture of the colour, combined with shape and form, which create the stunning overall effect.
The main area of his garden, which was redone recently to fully reflect his mature style, is the best of the garden (and it’s where all the pictures are from!). Fully enclosed by hedging, and punctuated by his now trademark curved hedges, it is filled to the brim with grasses and perennials. The impression is that of a continuous sea of planting where you are completely immersed in plants but not oppressed by them – it’s a floating feeling rather than a sheltered one. Oudolf has described being strongly impressed by the North American prairie, where in late summer you can be fully surrounded by swaying perennials and grasses towering above your head. I think this is recognizable in his garden, which manages to evoke a similar sensation even if the scale is much smaller.
In addition to this main garden space and the garden leading into it from the old house (with some diagonal design elements, lawn and hedging), there is the nursery maintained by his wife Anja. If I had a garden in Belgium, restraint would have been impossible, especially because the prices seemed very reasonable. Unfortunately, given our current apartment situation, I was just left salivating. Even here, without any planned design, the mix of plants is still beautiful. I suppose it’s another testament to Oudolf’s philosophy - when the form and texture of the plants is right, the overall results will be pleasing.

Pruning, Belgian style - Part 2

To follow up on the pruning blog, I couldn’t leave the topic without talking about pleaching. I have rarely seen this in Canada, but is it ever popular here in Belgium! It seems to be everywhere, from residential to institutional landscaping. I haven’t always had my camera on hand to take pictures, so we’ll have to make do with the few I do have.

Pleaching is the training of trees to form a horizontal framework above the ground. Basically, the effect is that of a hedge on stilts. Pleaching is not exactly straightforward: the right type and size of trees have to be chosen for the job, a sturdy framework built, and every year the trees have to be pruned and trained along the framework. Not only is it a lot of work, but it can also take a bit of time before the desired effect is achieved. No wonder then that it never caught on in North America. However, it's still very popular in Europe, perhaps because here it is grounded in a long tradition of use. Since medieval times, pleached trees have played an important role in gardens, mainly to create walkways or enclose spaces such as kitchen gardens.

Pleaching is a very architectural feature, which allows for an interesting space division at a higher level than a hedge. By using plants to create this division, the feeling is lighter and less overpowering than enclosures created with hardscaping. It’s a great way to raise the garden up and define 3-dimensional space on a comfortable, human scale. As with any garden design tool, there are many good ways of using it, and just as many bad. Here in Belgium, I've mostly seen it used to create privacy in front yards where a high wall would obviously be impractical. I think the look works well here because it's used with either older buildings or very modern ones. In between, one might have to be careful so that it doesn't look out of place.

Here’s an example that I watched being put up just this summer (it's on my way to work). The trees are so thin at this point they’re barely visible. It'll be interesting to see how long it takes before it actually looks like something.

This one has probably been in place for a few years and is growing well.

This example in a front yard looks like it’s in need of a trim. As shown here, pleached trees are often combined with a hedge at ground level.

A neat design tool that could offer some interesting opportunities for creative and unconventional use.

Pruning, Belgian style

When we moved to Belgium, one local garden practice I was struck by was the pruning. I don’t mean the perfect hedges and little boxwood animals, although there are plenty of those here, but rather big scale pruning of large trees, or pollarding. Pollarding consists of cutting back tree branches either all the way back to the main trunk, or to varying degrees along the main branches (multi-knuckle pollard, high pollard, etc). This treatment is not very popular in North America, but it sure is here. It’s been practiced in Europe for centuries to keep tree sizes in check, control shape or harvest wood. In winter, when deciduous trees are without leaves, it is rather striking. Below is a picture taken in London, Reagent Park area, in early April before leaf budding. Personally, I thought these trees looked like scary monsters subjected to some sort of gruesome experiments, and which will come back to haunt their tormentors at night.

I wondered if this does not affect tree health, but apparently it actually increases lifespan by keeping the tree in a juvenile state and reducing top weight. Still, when I saw the tree below in the Leuven Botanical Garden, I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for it. It almost looks embarrassed by its nakedness – not even some branches to hide behind during winter.
In summer, the trees recover fully – below is the same tree from the Leuven Botanical Garden in summer. It continues to grow throughout the summer, and the canopy now completely covers all the branches in gigantic leaves, a side effect of the pollarding.
Hedge pruning is also extremely popular here, and taken very seriously. Check out these complex, perfectly pruned designs in front of two residential houses, representative of common front yard looks.

Back at the Leuven Botanical Garden, this conifer has perplexed me all year. It has been impeccably pruned every single time I have visited, which is quite often. When does it ever grow??? A lesson in pruning dedication.