Weeding the Web

Morgan Stanley's Garden moves into Great Ormond Street Hospital - Chris Beardshaw on DIY SOS Big Build

Given the complex nature of many of the conditions treated here, parents can often spend months on end at the hospital. And for some of our smallest patients, the hospital is the only home they’ve ever known.

Dr Vin Diwakar, Medical Director at Great Ormond Street Hospital

"Fallen Deodar" by Jilly Sutton, carved from a fallen Himalaya Cedar (Cedrus deodara). Known for carving large heads, Sutton sandblasts and limes them to create their textured finish. The sculpture has a quiet emotion that can be read several ways.

Put this way, you can see how great a gift a garden might be. In a children’s hospital like Great Ormond Street, which is so geared up to helping patients and families get on with normal life under abnormal conditions, the lack of somewhere to go to think quietly and escape from the bright lights and constant noise of a large hospital has been sorely felt.

Not any more. Joining the school where children can continue their education; a chapel; a Citizen’s Advice Bureau; parent accommodation and other services, is a green retreat right at the heart of the hospital. And we get to see all the complications of its installation this week on BBC’s DIY SOS Big Build.

The water reflects the tree canopy and sky.

A garden in a well

Given the brief, it’s not surprising that RHS Gold-winning garden designer Chris Beardshaw leapt at the chance to take on the challenge. Two-fold, it demanded, not only the creation of a garden in a difficult space, but one that Morgan Stanley would be proud to sponsor at this year’s Chelsea Flower Show.

“It’s the first one I’ve done which has been quite as specific,” Chris told me at the show in May. Fortuitously, the size of the finished garden is very close to the standard plot size at Chelsea. Sixty extra square metres, not in the Chelsea design, are taken up with an additional terrace and pathways.

“It’s two storeys up over an old Victorian roof,” Chris said, “in the well of a ten-storey building, so there’s very little light direct into the garden.” It’s also overlooked by Intensive Care and the arterial corridor in the hospital. He first visited the hospital to talk about the challenges of a garden within its confines a year earlier. “We wanted the most people to see it most easily. It is at the genuine heart of the hospital.”

Light coloured flowers bring light into the shadows.

It is very much a contemplative space. “The point is this is for parents,” he added. “It’s a green chapel, somewhere they can catch their thoughts.”

Clinicians appreciate the need. “Having a quiet space can be invaluable, providing a much-needed place to pause and think when needing to make difficult decisions,” said Dr Diwakar. London has plenty of green spaces, but for some they’ve never been an option. “Things can change for our young patients in a single moment, so even a five-minute walk away from the hospital feels just too far.”

Garden design reflects Great Ormond Street philosophy

It was talking with the clinicians, parents and patients that helped Chris create the philosophy of the garden. “The way in which the hospital works makes a unique relationship between parents, clinicians and children. In many hospitals you tend to hand yourself over. Here there’s a genuine dialogue.”

In the design, this element resolves itself into groups of threes—of pavilions, types of Cornus, circles. “Many parents feel as if their child is flawed. I also try to capture the fact that childhood is perfect. In geometric terms, the circle is the perfect form.” In the Taxus baccata topiary domes and pools of planting, and the main circle of planting that intersects with the canal, he represents this perfection.

'Joy' by John O'Connor, based on his daughter, Isla, shows a child aiming to reach the heights.

Planting-wise, there is no coherence or obvious order, to reflect how children flit and move unrestrained. “It represents the ephemeral nature of childhood,” said Chris. Childhood is also represented by the statue 'Joy' that stands at the end of the canal, based on the artist's daughter Isla, who has “a boundless sense of elation”. “You think you know them for a split second," says Chris, "then there’s a glint in their eye and they change. Here the play of light changes with the water, waterlilies open and close. It’s a different experience each time.”

An awkward spot for a garden

Less obvious in the design are the constraints presented by the site. The deep well of enclosed space could have made it claustrophobic, but it has a tree canopy that breaks up the impression of overbearing surrounding walls. Deep shade is dealt with using lush planting, including Brunnera macrophylla ‘Jack Frost’, Arum italicum ‘Marmoratum’ various hostas, geraniums, paeonies, primulas and Dryopteris, but neither of these challenges was the most important consideration.

"Each acer weighs 3.5 tonnes and they sit on the original columns that support the roof.” The roof structure also demanded planting beds of 700mm, filled only with a lightweight growing medium. “It all governed how we utilised space.”

Happily the constraints work to create a classical geometry that adds the desired serenity to the tapestry of trees, topiary, hedging and herbaceous plants. They also didn’t hinder Chris, sponsored by Morgan Stanley, from gaining a Gold at RHS Chelsea.

Nick Knowles with Chris Beardshaw and the rest of the DIY SOS team on site at Great Ormond Street Hospital.

Don't miss it on DIY SOS Big Build

We’ll hear a lot more of the technical challenges when DIY SOS’s Nick Knowles and his team are shown transporting the garden across London and craning full-size trees over the buildings, not to mention his scepticism that such a small green space can help parents who are watching their child in pain.

It promises to be a fascinating and, yes, emotional programme. “This project is one of the most significant and poignant gardens of my career,” said Chris. I know I’ll be glued to BBC1 Thursday 10th November at 8pm.

NB In case you're wondering, as I did, what happened to the canal when the garden moved to Great Ormond Street Hospital, it was decided not to include water as it was not worth the risk of water-borne diseases in a hospital situation.

 

Dutch Flowers exhibition at the National Gallery

Dramatic lighting, nuanced texture, burning colour - each picture in Dutch Flowers, just opened at The National Gallery, is like a whole theatrical performance in itself. 

N-0796 Jan van Heuysum Flowers in a Terracotta Vase Jan van Huysum Flowers in a Terracotta Vase 1736 Oil on canvas 133.5 x 91.5 cm © The National Gallery, London. This is the picture that copyists are most likely to ask permission to reproduce and it's full of Rococo exuberance.

 

You might think that the show has been cleverly scheduled to coincide with The Year of the Garden here in the UK, but actually it's just coincidence. What's prompted the exhibition is the arrival of several Dutch flower paintings on long-term loan from a private collection; they're combined with ones owned by the gallery, to create a 200-year progression of the art of flower painting.

Jan Breughel the Elder, Still Life with Tulips, Chrysanthemums, Narcissi, Roses, Irises and other flowers in a Glass Vase. 1608-10. Oil on copper. 35 x 25.2 cms. © Private Collection, Hong Kong.

Curator of Dutch and Flemish Paintings, Betsy Wieseman, is especially delighted with the picture that kicks off the show (above). "This is an incredibly generous loan," she said, "and very important as it allows us to start from the beginning."  By Jan Breughel the Elder in 1608, it carries the essence of the genre: ornate vase, numerous different flowers, a combination of the real (the botanical exactitude) and the ideal (all seasons together in one vase, and not a spotty leaf in sight).

For gardeners, as you've probably already spotted, it's a fascinating display. Around the walls you'll find anemones, primulas, honeysuckle, morning glory, striped canary grass, Spanish Iris, columbine, Narcissus tazetta, Hyacinth, Tulipa gesneriana... I could go on. What makes these paintings so fascinating, though, is that they don't just wow us with their accuracy.  "Dutch flower paintings' naturalism and detail resonates down the ages," said Wieseman. "but they are also portraits, given the same importance as human beings." This is what holds our attention.

When flowers were first depicted in their own right, at the turn of the 17th century, this emerging genre was inspired by increasing scientific interest in horticulture. New botanical gardens in The Netherlands provided opportunities for academic study, an international trade in exotic cultivars had sprung up and, by the 1630s, Tulipmania had taken hold.  Even though prices for exotic bulbs soon crashed, the Dutch fascination with flower painting continued. Perhaps this isn't surprising when you realise that nearly 200 new species of flowers were introduced to The Netherlands in this century.

Jan Davidsz. de Heem Flowers in a Glass Bottle on a Marble Plinth, about 1670 Oil on canvas 50 × 40.9 cm Private collection © Photo courtesy of the owner

As you progress around the walls (the paintings are all in one room), something becomes clear: developing taste, which is all the more fascinating for what it tells us of contemporary society. Early pictures are flat, symmetrical, with everything visible, as befits a picture that wants to display the blooms with botanical accuracy. These are 2D display cases. The flowers glow against a dark background that turns their colours into jewels. Some are blooms that are too precious to be cut, so this was a way to bring them into the house. For some of those commissioning the pictures, it was a way to boast of their prize specimens and the artist would be instructed in what had to be included. One conjectures that some blooms were included more as wishful thinking - with hopes to impress by pretending to own one? "Quite possibly," laughed Wieseman. And just think, with a glowing rendition on the walls of your study, you'd never have to utter the pathetic cover-up, "You should have seen it last week..."

In keeping with fashion (think, contemporaneous Dutch vanitas pictures) earlier flower paintings include a vanitas element - the falling petals and insect damage to remind the viewer of the ephemeral nature of beauty and that we are all mortal.  As the decades progress, bouquets take on asymmetry; blooms - even expensive ones - are depicted overlapping with others rather than shown complete, to create a more natural sense of depth. In Jan Davidsz de Heem's Flowers in a Glass Bottle on a Marble Plinth (above) the flowers seem to explode outwards; the glass vase reflects the window. Increasingly Baroque, compositions use curves and strong axes to add depth and movement. Jan van Huysum introduces dramatic lighting which, passing through the bouquet, creates a sense of space. Detail is still meticulous, though; even the mosses are identifiable.

Rachel Ruysch, Flowers in a Glass Vase with a Tulip, 1716, Oil on canvas, 46.5 × 36 cm, Private collection, © Photo courtesy of the owner

By the end of the 18th century, style has changed again. Backgrounds are lighter, and the bouquet has often been moved, in its ornate vase, out into the garden. Some of the arrangements are impossibly top-heavy. There's an air of fantasy but the Rococo sense of lightness has been replaced by a heavy hint of classicism. The cornucopia includes fruit, dead birds, fish and nests of eggs, not as an injection of vanitas, but as the artists' way of broadening the genre, as Jan Davidsz arguably had a hundred years before by including hops and wheat in his bouquets.

Jan van Os Fruit, Flowers and a Fish 1772 Oil on mahogany 72.2 x 56.7 cm © The National Gallery, London. Impossibly top-heavy.

Changing fashions in horticulture are also visible. Tulips, irises and roses are pretty constant, but from 1730s double hyacinths are fashionable and, offering an irresistible horticultural challenge, pineapples enter the scene.

If flower paintings have, till now, seemed a minor strand in art history, this small but exquisite show puts them in a deserved spotlight. Quietly, though, they have always attracted attention.  "They're absolutely among the favourite paintings in the Gallery," said Wieseman. "The most requested painting by copyists is Jan van Huysum's Flowers in a Terracotta Vase."

The exhibition is free and runs until 29th August. And by what appears a lovely coincidence, various English Heritage properties have planted up their gardens with contemporaneous tulips.

 

 

 

Christmas presents for gardeners: 20% off Punch cartoons until end of November

OK, last call to remind you of the 20% discount on Punch cartoons, available until the end of this month (that's next Monday). Also, my last excuse to let us all enjoy a bit more cartoon humour. (just in case you think I must be benefiting from an affiliate link, with all these mentions, I'll assure you I'm not. I just can't resist the opportunity to share a private passion.)

What I like about the wartime cartoon below is that you don't actually know who is saying it to whom (though it's easy to jump to conclusions). Douglas Mays' cartoons often featured children or, like below, society women who were modelled on his wife and four daughters. The picture below must have been borne of some sort of experience (we're talking about the veg now). A pacifist, Mays spent the war years farming.

"So you see, dear, one can be decorative and useful." By Douglas Mays. Published May 1940. Reproduced with permission of Punch Ltd., www.punch.co.uk

All the images are available as archival quality prints on good quality, thick textured paper and are giclée printed. You could even go the whole hog and go for ready-to-hang canvases or acrylic prints.

The discount is available on all print products, even if you find a cartoon you'd like with a different subject matter. (Click on the picture above, to go straight to that one.)

Just enter the code NOVEMBER when asked for a coupon code in your shopping cart. The offer continues until November 30th (Monday).

Click here and here to see other Punch cartoons on offer.

Gifts for gardeners: 20% discount on Punch cartoons

Just a reminder that there's still time to get 20% discount on cartoons from Punch. There's quite a choice of gardening subjects. 

The Gardener and the Businessman, by William Sillince, published in "Punch" August 1960. Reproduced with permission of Punch Ltd., www.punch.co.uk

Sillince was a cartoonist and talented watercolourist who injected gentle humour into his social observation. OK, few of us have a full-time gardener now, but the story remains constant. I'm sure there are plenty of people who have changed career with a picture like this in mind.

If you click through on the link below and search for "gardening", you'll find plenty of images to choose from (click on the picture above to go straight to that).  All the images are available as archival quality prints on good quality, thick textured paper and are giclée printed. You could even go for ready-to-hang canvases or acrylic prints.

The discount is available on all print products. Just enter the code NOVEMBER when asked for a coupon code in your shopping cart. The offer continues until November 30th.

See my earlier post for Thelwell on the allotment.

Gardening in art: Abraham Cruzvillegas' Empty Lot at Tate Modern

The role of art in the garden is a recognised debate, but Tate Modern has turned this on its head by putting gardening into art. Abraham Cruzvillegas's Empty Lot, the latest installation in the Turbine Hall, creates a receding triangular vista of triangular raised beds.

Hyundai Commission 2015. Abraham Cruzvillegas: Empty Lot.
© Abraham Cruzvillegas. Photo credit: Andrew Dunkley © Tate 2015

The Tate's press release was not written by a gardener: "Flowers, mushrooms, and other greenery may grow depending on what seeds or bulbs have found their way into the soil."

The platforms hold a geometric grid of 240 wooden planters filled with compost and over 23 tonnes of soil collected from parks around London, including from Peckham, Haringey and Buckingham Palace; they'll be kept lit and watered during the six months of the installation, during which time visitors will get to see what grows.

Now, occasionally a piece of conceptual art raises me to enthusiasm. Olafur Eliasson's The Weather Project is a Turbine Hall installation that still resonates. He put a giant sun bathed in mist at the far end of the Turbine Hall to explore "ideas about experience, mediation and representation".  It also created a mysterious atmospheric beauty that made people linger to enjoy the peace.

But what has Empty Lot to offer? Perhaps gardeners are disadvantaged here. There's nothing that Cruzvillegas has done that doesn't happen every year in our own gardens in that weedy corner that we keep meaning to do something about. The only difference is that we'll get to see a lot of weedy corners corralled into the same space. There might be a moderate interest in comparing the seed content of Buckingham Palace with that of Peckham, but, assuming they didn't dig up a daffodil bed, I personally am not expecting an enormous difference*.

I'm not the only one:

Indoors, outdoors #emptylot by Abraham #cruzvillegas @autoconstruido @tate modern, and @CTCaravanserai last month pic.twitter.com/45rzfKrd1m

— JOHN JEFFERS (@ee92jlj) November 1, 2015

The Tate says:

The unpredictable nature of the work, which may grow and change from one week to the next, provokes questions about the city and nature, as well as wider ideas of chance, change, and hope.*

While conceptual art is often immense fun to visit, I generally have a problem with it.

First, you are left with the paucity of your own thoughts, which is why you should always visit any installation with at least one other person, who, with luck, will have different thoughts.

Secondly,  anyone can pretty much read anything into any object in any position.  So, basically, a conceptual artist can think up any installation and submit it, and it'll mean something to someone.

Empty Lot includes artistic references. The triangular shape points east-west (not sure what the relevance is of that. Obviously, we all know that raised beds are best ranged north-south to catch the passing sun) and, says the Tate, recalls the strong diagonals of Russian avant-garde artists such as El Lissitzky and the geodesic domes of visionary architect Buckminster Fuller. Lissitzky was part of the Soviet Constructivist movement, which believed that art should have a social and political impact, although he was most pioneering in typography and book design, rather than 3D objects.  Geodesic domes are often used to grow things in - so it's a nicely oblique reference.

But it's pretty bleak on its own account, at the moment. There's a certain satisfaction in the sharp lines taking you off into the depth of the hall, and later, when it's bushier and grassier the paths may disappear into a green-massed distance. But, just in case you're looking forward to wandering into it, here's what the press release says: 

Visitors will be able to explore underneath the platforms by wandering through the supporting scaffolding and view them from above on the Turbine Hall bridge.

So, we can see its bottom but can't walk through it. So much for comparing the plants. So much for getting a feel for difference and detail. I predict it's going to look pretty homogeneous, looked at from the bridge. And I really can't summon up the enthusiasm for scaffolding expressed on Philippa Ellis's Arts Aloud blog. Anyway, I seem to remember another installation that created a similar effect, though the details escape me.

Moving on to analogies, "in the middle of a busy commercial area of London, the ‘empty lot’ is a space where nothing is produced but where change might happen." I wonder if that's even the case in his native Mexico?  Here an empty lot disappears into a whirl of corporate construction as fast as you can say 'knife'.

Still, what questions about nature might it be asking about the city and nature? 

• How far does the rigid structure of a city puts limits on the life within it?
• How much does the artificial life of the city create unnatural reactions? (After all, they are trying to make things grow through winter.)

Or what about the "wider ideas of chance, change, and hope"?

• The struggle for self-expression is found in the most awkward and desolate places.
• Put care into what seems unpromising and the results will (might) surprise you.

Challenge me further and I might come up with a fully fledged platitude. Which is part of my problem with it: nothing I've suggested is very new. My lack of imagination, perhaps. One tweet describes it as "a sculpture made out of hope".  Well, I'm hoping that you might come up with other ideas of what Empty Lot might be saying.

One point which hasn't been mentioned in connection with Empty Lot is the teeming nature of the soil. Emphasis is concentrated on the emptiness. As one tweet asks: "From nothing, what may grow?" It would be wonderful to think that in this, the International Year of the Soil, at a time when world soils are maltreated and becoming dangerously impoverished, Cruzvillegas is actually trying to redefine the concept of soil itself, underlining its liveliness and how different treatment, environment and care decide whether it produces feast of famine. I don't get the impression, though, that his intention is anywhere near as enlightened.

Quite obviously a visit is in order, though I can't see much point in rushing there until most plants are well above the sides. There's plenty of time. The installation runs until 3rd April, 2016, and you can follow its progress at #emptylot. Requests for plant identification have already started, which is definitely something for gardeners to get their teeth into.

In the meantime, do comment below on what you think Cruzvillegas might teach us.

*According to Philippa Ellis, there are rumours that people are "seed-bombing" the beds. So, what emerges may not be so "accidental" as originally intended.

 

Presents for gardeners: 20% discount on Punch cartoons

As you may have spotted over the years, I'm a pushover for a good cartoon. I've even commissioned one as a present for Husband. You can't get much better, though, than many that appeared in Punch over the decades. Some of the very best cartoonists of their day contributed, including one of my favourites, Thelwell.

The Allotment, by Thelwell. Published in "Punch" May 1954. Reproduced with permission of Punch Ltd., www.punch.co.uk

This one makes me laugh every time. It's the total oblivion of the sunbather to the glowering looks of his fellow allotmenteers that does it. Thelwell had a real feel for gardeners, as he showed in Up the Garden Path, a book that arrived in my Christmas stocking some time in my childhood.

Speaking of Christmas, wouldn't a gardening cartoon make a super present? (I wouldn't mention it, but I know that visitors are already arriving at Weeding the Web via "Christmas" searches.)

That being so, I'm really pleased to be able to offer a 20% discount on all Punch print products with the code at the bottom of the page.  There are plenty of gardening subjects to choose from (click on the picture above to go straight through to that).  All the images are available as archival quality prints on good quality, thick textured paper and are giclée printed. You could even go the whole hog and go for ready-to-hang canvases or acrylic prints.

The discount is available on all print products, even if (gasp!) you find a cartoon you'd like with a different subject matter.

Just enter the code NOVEMBER when asked for a coupon code in your shopping cart. The offer continues until November 30th, and I'll post a couple of reminders before then, which will also give us the chance to chortle over the gentle humour of a couple more cartoonists.

 

 

 

London's Secret Garden: Plant Portraits by the Florilegium Society at Chelsea Physic Garden

Any excuse for a visit to Chelsea Physic Garden is a good one, but the current exhibition, London's Secret Garden, to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the Florilegium Society won't disappoint.

Curcubita ficifolia by Kimiko Kambe-Gang

About the Florilegium Society

Set up in 1995 to record the plants in the garden, after a botanical art course run on site by The English Gardening School gave the students the desire to continue painting, it has only sixty members at any one time. Members visit the garden regularly and the society's Chairman, Dugald Graham-Campbell explained, with a twinkle in his eye, "In return for the kudos for being asked to be a member, you are expected to paint something from the garden each year."

The Society aims to catalogue every plant in the garden eventually, which is quite a task, given that there are five thousand different plants and their collection currently boasts 650 paintings. Combine this with the fact that, in reality, about thirty-five pictures are submitted in time for acceptance each year - and there's work for years to come.

Each November, submitted pictures are judged by an independent panel which includes doctors of botany from Kew and the curator of Chelsea Physic Garden. Artistic merit isn't considered; acceptance depends on whether a picture is scientifically accurate enough to be accepted.

Calendula officinalis by Dana Everett

The demands of botanical painting

Seventy-five pictures are on display in the current exhibition. The pictures are entrancing in their detail. Botanical art differs from flower painting in being strictly scientific in intent, providing an accurate record of the plant, sufficient for ID purposes. So, no vases, no insects, no dewdrops - though sometimes an artist just can't help herself on the latter (and yes, the majority of members are women).

Past chairman Judi Stone explained the finer points of the art and it became clear that, with too much artistic licence, you'd probably end up with a flower painting.  "If stems cross, it could be unclear and messy," explained Judi, pointing out the separate seedhead of the Calendula illustrated above.

Of course, rules are there to be broken and skilful artists manage it well. In another picture, an aubergine overlapped a slice of the fruit, cleverly linking the two, but nevertheless clearly separate. "You can see a very thin white edge has been left between the two to indicate separation," said Judi.

Yet, within such strictures there is remarkable artistry, not just in the accurate rendition of colour and shape, but, by clever placement, in making a subject feel anchored and its parts united on the page when there is no background to set it against.

If the demands of botanical art seem to put it far out of your artistic range, it's encouraging to find that the discipline can be an entry into painting. Gill Barlow, who is the society's archivist and has taught in her time, explained that you can teach people to see, to measure with compasses for accurate rendition, and to create a design. (She sketches the elements on pieces of tracing paper and arranges them to her satisfaction, before starting the actual work.)

Urtica dioica by Nicki Tullett

The artists have considerable freedom to work as they please. Some use watercolours (with a dry-brush technique to ensure accurate lines and colours), others pen and ink or pencil (145 pictures in the collection are in black and white). One in the exhibition (you're unlikely to spot which) is in coloured pencils. Paper can be of different textures; one uses vellum.

Do we need botanical art?

Isn't all this painstaking attention to detail rather an indulgence in this day of the digital camera? Andrew Brown, who wrote the accompanying book, Botanical Illustration from Chelsea Physic Garden, explained, "Botanical art has advantages over photos. Everything that is required for diagnosis of a plant is on the same page. You could put a whole lot of photographs together, but not everything would be in focus. The business of focus - that's the main point."

What botanical art certainly does is make the viewer focus. For some, the idea of concentrating so minutely (even through a microscope, for those artists who wish) is a dry view of nature. Yet, the enormous service provided by such painstaking efforts is it gives us, the viewers, a chance see the plants anew, and gain a greater appreciation through seeing with another's eyes. Even the dreaded Horsetail, an absolute bete noire of mine, and portrayed in tiny  monochrome pencil strokes by Guy Eves, received my grudging admiration.

London's Secret Garden information

The Chelsea Physic Garden exhibition is open until August 26th, from 11 to 4, free with entrance to the garden. On a Monday, the cafe and shop are not open and 2-for-1 offers are not valid. The exhibition is only accessible via stairs. 

This is the first time that the Garden has taken on the reproduction of products arising from the Florilegium Society. Six prints, fridge magnets, magnetic bookmarks and a scarf, featuring botanical art that can be seen in the exhibition, can be purchased from the shop.

 

Presents for Gardeners: the gift of garden quotation

 

A calligraphy teacher told me recently that she found it the most uncreative of pursuits - no room for variation.  Expert calligrapher Rosemary Grossman couldn't disagree more.

"I find it very creative," she said when, arrested by her lovely designs which include plants of all description, I spoke to her at Country Living's Christmas Fair this weekend.

Rosemary, who is 80, has, I think, reached that level of expertise where one lets go of analysis and follows one's instinct. She says when she lays out the page, she lets things go where they want. And, of course, white space is every bit as important as the words and decoration, so the design embodies a rhythm of light and dark.

Designs often include delicate renderings of flowers and plants (those in the picture above resulted from the commission for hedgerow plants seen at the time of the recipient's birthday), instantly recognisable to the gardener. 

 

I could have spent hours rifling through all the different quotations she's illustrated. Somehow Rosemary manages to imbue them with a calm spirituality that can make the most familiar quotation hit you anew.

Design and execution takes a minimum of five hours and, to mitigate the problem that every craftsman recognises - of finding it impossible to charge sufficiently for hours spent - each original commission is also made into prints, many of which cost around £20.

Rosemary has a huge range of quotations and sayings already completed, so you might find your favourite already exists. However, she takes commissions, so if you have a specific gardening poem or quote that you'd like on your wall, she could probably still get it completed for Christmas, if you're quick. 

She doesn't have a website, but you can contact her via her husband's email (norman dot grossman at auditel dot co dot uk) or phone 020 7274 4798.

(Sorry about the reflection on the picture above - photos weren't easy to take in the circumstances.)

Cartoon Art Trust Awards: botanist sums up garden insects

Regular visitors will know I'll grab any excuse for a cartoon. The 19th Cartoon Art Trust Awards held yesterday evening saw Mike Barfield awarded the Strip Cartoon Award. He was described as "possibly the only cartoonist with a first in Botany and Zoology".

His take on insects might be aimed at picnickers, but will make a few gardeners chuckle.

 

Greetings cards for gardeners

From time to time, I forage the web for cards for gardeners. Not so long ago Helene Taylor left a comment saying "I have a special relationship with most of my plants, but roses are really close to my heart." 

Well, I had to visit her blog after that, and it was a lovely surprise to find that she not only writes about gardening, but creates super artwork and produces greetings cards from her photos, some of which she generously lets you download  for free.  

Roses feature, of course, and I particularly liked her Gerbera series, but Helene has also just added a Gallery this year, where you can buy prints, canvases and cards, such as the Bleeding Heart pictured.

She's been blogging for a couple of years now, has a small but delightful garden, and her recent post Gardening with Difficulties makes one appreciate how much she achieves. If you think you take a lot of pictures of the garden, Helene manages 4000-5000 a year!