The Day of Judgement....

Tuesday 25th of May 'Evening Activity'

John Armstrong performs a reading of The Orchid his poem that had latterly been confined to the kitchen.  Beautiful, captivating and very, very evocative his words commanded the stirrings of the gathered crowd.  Doing what every impressionist desired, painting a picture and more, painting too atmosphere conjured up and out of the cave and into our thirsty ears.  

Even more lush in the evening light the ferns knitted around his silky pink thrown; the perfect podium.

Celebration was to be had too for the garden's popular success and so too for it's porous artificial grass sponsor; King Easigrass himself Mr Anthony Gallagher for his birthday...

As far as the medal, the Silver Gilt, the almost Gold...here's my piece...

It's always hard to comprehend when something that you truly believe in isn't quite appreciated in the same way by others.  Easy to take perhaps when you stand alone in your beliefs bringing questions to the fore, raising the standard for the next battle but when it is those that fail to grapple with it and enjoy its provocation yet who stand as a powerful minority; here the frustration lies.  

Walking on shaky ground Tony Smith's concept was definitely harder to follow than many.  Why was it that we weren't allowed in to the kitchen?  Why couldn't we ourselves sit on that seat?  Why was it that we were left as visitors standing in the heat looking in on the cool?  

The main qualm at judging was that the visitor didn't have access to the kitchen (bar the window), but what if not that happens on every other garden site across the show ground?  Only a select few are allowed to experience the delights of moving through the gardens, the rest of us hoi polloi are left gazing in from the outside.  Why should the kitchen here presented be any different?  

More exaggerated yes, but you see what Tony has done here is something really quite magnificent, for the first time a garden at Chelsea has allowed itself to be openly conscious of the voyeurism at play in every garden presented.  When you look through the window you not only see a feast of orchids but pressing your nose up to the cool glass you realize that this is out of bounds, this wonderful smelling, poetry filled space is only for those with special privileges - and you are not one of them.  This is exactly the point.  The garden then becomes the most real out of any of the other gardens, it is a personal space, crowned even by the successive romp that can be expected of the Bacopa planted against the young Fennel; a life after the bloom of the Tulips.  Strange then that the craziest looking of gardens can then turn out to be something that presents the most reality.  

Shame indeed that this garden skimmed a gold.  Shame indeed moreover, a major lost opportunity for the RHS here we are pushing boundaries following instincts, in turn innovating and the RHS return to their traditionalism.  There is room enough for at least one if not a dozen of these styles of garden at Chelsea. What is clear is that other shows, other disciplines even will start to steal Chelsea's thunder, catch bigger headlines, if these projects are undervalued.  

Collaboration has definitely been one of the main themes of Chelsea this year, respect for individual skill and belief in dialogue and companionship as mentioned previously, there is more to be made of this.  Furthermore across the board of the Arts, artists are swapping roles with curators and curators with artists; artists are swapping roles with landscape architects, or indeed they are talking, holistic approaches are the way forward this we already know.

Perhaps then there lies an underlying fear of the artist, of this all consuming canvased terrain.  Be not afraid we should call, for you see the artist is really a benevolent being, a ray of sunshine, a flash of lightening, a whisper through the trees, a dark and stirring being; and we must use the artist, to learn from them where our minds are closed where we did not know they weren't open.  Plus as you can see the artists are romping through anyway so you might as well take them in now, go on invite them in before they storm the gates or worse they don't turn up anymore...

The Unexpected Gardener

The Thrive Garden, designed by Jo Thompson this year is for The Unexpected Gardener, for a stylish mature gentleman and keen gardener who, although finding gardening slightly more challenging physically than in the past, does not want to compromise his design choices.  Jo here has achieved something really quite magnificent.  Brief aside (just for the moment), it is a complete joy to take in. 

Using a cool palette brought to the fore by dashes and wisps of 'Hot Chocolate' roses and purple irises Jo entices the viewer greedily in to rest within its glorious greens and whites.  Shape and form have been intrinsically thought through, with two Prunus serrula providing wafty structure and frame to the piece.  With their red bark glistening in Chelsea's heat their canopy floor is dappled with light and shade, repeated then in the shadows and filtered light cast by the sculpture of the adjacent pergola.  If that's not enough for your eyes to feast upon, then perhaps the hidden urn within the water sculpture will capture your attention, a balance of the circular within the square echoed also in the stacks of wood that make up the partition wall and again in the fire hearth.  

Yes here are raised planters suited to the brief, but these here are not delivered as an afterthought, they are implicit within the design choices made for this site and work effortlessly, crucial to the composition.  No hand rails are to be discovered here, instead Jo has planted holding piers into the garden, easing mobility for the gentleman about the garden whilst also strengthening her design; a solution that should by no means be undervalued.  Subtle yet perfectly formed this garden is a clever feast for your eyes.

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Contractor of the Year 2010

  

Mark Gregory gained the first prize awarded at Chelsea 2010, of Contractor of the Year.  The golden broom, a symbol perhaps of the very dedication that Mark and his Landform team have displayed over the last few weeks, not just to one site but to three.  Not only have they kept the boardwalks brand-spankingly clean but throughout the whole project their enthusiasm and courtesy has shown no bounds.  Anyone having difficulties on site - 'Go to Mark!' were the phrases echoed across the Chelsea playground. His team were there with anything from a bag of sand to a torch, ready to ease the stress of a 'Chelsea moment'.  Designing and contracting for the Children's Society Garden himself and contracting for the Malaysian Tourism Garden for James Wong and David Cubero, with a courtyard garden thrown in for extra measure, Landform certainly were busy this year but that didn't stop them delivering anything short of perfect. With both his brothers on site to see the finishing touches put into place, this really was a personalized performance.  Even though Mark and Landform are certainly Chelsea veterans with each show they raise their bar.

PROFILE ON TONY SMITH

PROFILE ON TONY SMITH & THE EASIGRASS GARDEN (URBAN PLANTAHOLIC’S KITCHEN GARDEN)

The one to look out for.  Tony Smith’s garden this year is going to be none other than outstanding: meticulous to detail, and with an acute awareness of the individual’s experience, their voyeurism into a private urban sanctuary.  And a sanctuary it is; The Plantaholic’s Kitchen is fantastical in its very concept but so truly inspirational.  

Tony, an artist with many strings to his bow, is unique in his approach to garden design, thinking beyond the realms of the impossible and truly trusting of his own imagination he delivers every time.  With less the ego of the designer, Tony is concentrated more on the development of the individual experience, of the provocation of unanswered questions in the viewer’s mind’s eye.  

He encourages an impression, an imprint into our memory that goes beyond the bounds that other garden designers strain to.  As garden designers we can easily fall into the trap of universal treatment; of box ticking, of journeys through landscape, of shelter, of exposure and wonderment; and although these are all valid site responses to consider, sometimes simplicity in thought is all that is needed.

Holding an Urban Garden’s plot at Chelsea, Tony saw the site at 7m by 5m not as somewhere to journey through but somewhere in which to be, a visual wardrobe of the inhabitant’s eye.  It is a personalized installation that develops and encourages thought and analysis and rewards with detailed textural and colour contrasts.  As an assessor or voyeur invited into this personalized space its character, its affecting being is poured into your very soul.  Poetry, water, ferns, orchids and joviality in pink play with our sensual chords, and the shady chambers soothe and massage our tired temples.  

Conscious of its very presentation at a show, Tony does not allude to its reality and actual existence more to its probable existence.  With a sneak view into the urban kitchen we see not a nutritious feast being concocted as we find elsewhere on site but a diet of orchids of colour and play, planted up directly into the very interior kitchen where this Plantaholic has taken his scented dreams into his mundane world.

Where those dreams are concocted we do know; he sits on his silky thrown in his green cave and looks out and through upside down ferns, furry ferns, miniatures, giants, with names such as Adiantum venustum and Adiantum ‘Miss Sharples’, with the water cascade drawing from him canvases of his next adventure.  

The concept and inception is undoubtedly Tony’s, with his vivid mark and style dressed through it; yet true to his very concept, to the very fanatical nature of the Plantaholic, Tony has brought onto the project the skills of the Fernatix, who know their Onoclea sensibilis from their Dicksonia sellowiana and the minutiae of the beautiful orchid.   

Collaborative in his very nature, Tony eschews the contemporary model of hierarchical company forms; with respect to the skills of others and with respect to his own individual flair his team fluctuates in accordance to the unique site demands.  Hard to manage one could argue but truer perhaps to each site, here the art form is not just a product of the artists ego manufactured at factory, but instead it is a temporal product of the relationships and dialogue built up in its very inception.    

If gardening were cool, which I believe it truly is; Tony’s cave is pretty chilled!!

RHS CHELSEA 2010

One to watch…

Chelsea Flower Show is not just for those who know and follow the taxonomists and nursery plant fashions it is also for those art and culture buffs and the inner hippy that we all hold.   It is the coolest thing about town at the moment – where else do you get such a giant collaborative effort towards aesthetic, thought provoking achievement.  And what is more it is about greenness; about eco-lifestyle; outdoor-living; holistic working environments…  Not to mention it has all the peeking curiosities of tantalising reveal and titillation, intrigue and inspiration for our own translations of these into our individual lifestyles. 

Chelsea as a show…

A ticketed event, for the uninitiated it can seem like a pretty daunting prospect, an intrusion into our nation’s grand institution of the RHS; yet that is what it’s all about.  It’s about showing off, touching base with design solutions, proposals and ideals.  Like a peacock rippling its feathers, for the last 7 days we’ve seen designers and contractors at their best; preening after the recent frosts in the unusually fine weather.  Building work’s going down fine and set-ups are running to schedule, and there is the faintest whiff of unsettlement over the plants and their adaptation to the strange weather conditions.  With exotic species being used to push original briefs and concepts, they’ve been on their own journey through abnormally late frosts and brilliant sunshine, the fear it seems is that the plants will be scorched in both respects.  Yet some are smilingly more smugly than others; the native plants are comfortable, relaxed and breathing freely.  As an RHS Flower show one could argue that native plants should be the only ones on display for a more sustainable, eco-friendly and ‘true’ show.  Yet this is not what Chelsea is about, for years it has pushed the boundaries using ‘smoke screens & mirrors’ – it is a spectacle and cannot be considered otherwise and as a world class, international show we expect glimpses into the metropolitan world, inspiration for our own design solutions or just simple food for thought.  Although if we were to plant many of these species into our own back gardens, we might find many of them suffering as there is little ‘truth’ in their planting with this maritime site as their context.  Within their brief and true to their brief yes they might be, but true to Brit gardens they are not. 

Why it continues to attract and amaze…

Well that’s that then, we might argue, what then is the point in visiting the show, I’ll pass my ticket on to someone else…Hold your horses!  Because it is actually saying something else it is opening our eyes to that sense of wonderment, providing optimism in the face of disaster, opening ourselves up to the belief in the impossible.  A sense indeed that is drilled out of us from our early years, that a square cube does not fit through a round hole, that if something isn’t suited it won’t work.  Yet here these gardens are, many of them defying the odds with exotic plants and flowers settling in, with huge and ancient trees making Chelsea their home for a few weeks only.   These presentations are in themselves a mini-miracle pushing us to consider new products and uses; removing stifling categorization, considering instead possible opportunities found in the unexpected.  What is more, the show allows us to think, to reconsider, to appreciate, to understand and to analyse to such a degree as we would not normally be allowed.  Most gardens in themselves are private spaces, little used by the uninvited, yet Chelsea here is showing, has on display, examples of what is being achieved in outdoor spaces across the country.  Ever since even before the era Mr and Mrs Andrews we can understand ourselves as Brits through our association with our land, our commodity, our property, our achievement; and here we are at Chelsea celebrating this very thing.  There is no show quite like it simply because us Brits know how to celebrate our terrain. 

Chelsea and Art

The art world has traditionally shown little interest in Chelsea, with Tony Smith’s fabulous concepts piquing their sole interest but surely it is time for it to wake up to Chelsea and there is a feeling that it might, that it just about is…  Art and architecture have always enjoyed a happy marriage but not since the romantics has art and landscape architecture been so mixed - with the onset of green ideologies, of utopic alternatives and integration, and with art generally just getting bigger.  Furthermore, contemporary art is concentrating on formation over product, of dialogue, exchange and viewer relationship.  Curators are taking on more and more artistically creative roles themselves, and artists are continually subsuming the curator’s role.  The holistic, collaborative, changing art is now.  The green, eco, big art is now.  The viewer, the individual’s journey in art is now.  So where are we all looking?  Chelsea!  Where else can we look…there is nowhere better.

Where to look Show Gardens…

Robert Myers stands out this year, purely on scale, with a fine balance between dark and light, cube and sphere with a central enlightenment theme, challenging from any perspective.

Andy Sturgeon and Tom Stuart-Smith can hardly be separated in their description and emotive provocation of calm, harmony and balance – with outstanding results as can be expected.  

Yet it’s perhaps that sense of agitation in what grates, what doesn’t work, what works unexpectedly which will always gain the wow factor.  In which respect we may find ourselves drawn to the Leeds Garden, we shouldn’t like it but we do – with the monolithic sluice gushing forth water, a nod towards our transport heritage of our distant past and covered with naturalized planting.  Really it is a simple celebration of the relationship and possible equilibrium held between man and nature; the pure fundamentals that we consistently search against and through: our own existence amid this big green one.  Yet perhaps we might call this a little too romantic, a borrowing of Wordsworthian nostalgia.  

For lines, for lush, for guidance through green wilds we might look instead at James Wong and David Cubero’s successful marriage of verticals, subtle, delicate yet impressive in its simplicity of concept, a reunion once again of these romantic ideals; or a sublime reflection inspired by our individual experience of lush greenery and wildscape.  However it is not yet nostalgic; sublime, yes but without nostalgia, instead contemporary existence and lifestyle is here very conscious and self-aware.  Rather than a recreation of an idyll à L’Occitane here we have a creation of a new one, innovative perhaps not, but contemporary yes.  It is a piece, a work of art that is very now, very us.  For all those interested in collaboration – not only has it been designed by two (James Wong and David Cubero) but both are international citizens based now in London bringing different cultural aspects to the fore; and the contractors here Landform, lead by Mark Gregory, pride themselves not only on their team effort between them but also on the give and take they have with their design team – which is indeed perhaps why they were chosen; allowing for a much more organic process in its installation and planting process.  Furthermore, the team of plants women (and men), the helpers, have been on site since early in the construction, busy with their clippers and keen eyes, bringing the planting to life.   A true example of liberal diplomacy at its best with double if not triple leadership of their micro-community, apt timing one might say, a parallel no doubt to be drawn with Cameron and Clegg.

Now and us

In so far as innovation is concerned, there are plenty of subtle firsts at Chelsea this year – firsts driven by technology and lifestyle choices with outdoor accessibility and urban use driving firsts for fire pits, pizza ovens and outdoor kitchens not to mention spas, water bars and porous easigrass.  Yet for firsts in terms of pure artistic innovation we must instead look to Chelsea as a whole, to its holistic spread, its diverse presentation of themes and concepts and its quiet unison in sustainable drive.  In Post-Modern Britain we lost our identity, perhaps it is at Chelsea that we might reclaim it - diverse, open, collaborative and busy, yet modest in relation to its real achievements and of course with a big dollop of sense of humour thrown in just to make that mix extra special (where else would you find a Rhubarb & Custard Garden) …  Chelsea here we come, we call!!!!

INTERIOR FURNISHINGS OF THE MIND

I had a long walk around the cliffs at home last week and rather than taking endless photos of them and the sea which is what normally happens I suppose I was starting to look at their context and the rolls of the land and natural shapes that happen on agri fields and settlement areas etc...man & landscape... there are always little highlights like where the plough has turned in the field creating a circular swoop with rusty brown set against lush green and the light highlighting all of its depth, just wonderful.  Then the simple way that a stream will fight for release into an ocean wriggling through the land like an energetic teenager who's been cooped up for too long.. Then there's the classic Tintern Abbey/Romantic shot of an old chapel, lit up from behind, picturesque in it's ruins, stoical in its stance; and that really sums up our relationship with the land, our desire to live in it, worship by it, locate our spiritual monuments where our spirits are lifted by a dramatic landscape, turn it so that it aligns with the sun, and hey, life suddenly has meaning if it were not only for understanding our own insignificance in relation to the cycles of the earth and the elements that we live amongst.  

There is something that is definitely to be said about the Romantic's investigation into the Sublime, we may call it nostalgic, fearful even of the unknown, but so far the description of the sublime falls short rather it is more those tingles that are felt when something is seen to be greater than yourself, something that has been created, or that sits without inspiring words but openness, allowing a smooth tidal flow of nothing, of something into our minds.

Whenever we say that something is good or beautiful they are just that but it is when these words are uttered with the eyes shining brightly and the face relaxed do we know for certain that this really is good, that this really is wonderful, that this really is beautiful.  These moments we can link with so much, with the Roman Catholic warmth and inspiration of the worship of Mary Magdalene to the quiet and all absorbing meditation peaking on top of some great temple, to the pushing of our own body’s boundaries, the astonishment of our own awareness of self and our own physicality apart from or more greater felt than our own consciousness which we have lead to believe that rules. I think therefore I am.  Bullshit.  i breath therefore I am and we all know this. I think therefore I am may set us apart from the bestial world but where in this world now hierarchy is little appreciated, aligning ourselves and finding and respecting our own physicality is something that should release us from the domination that is our minds.  

Our over active minds, stimulated heavily, all the time, the drag and drop the switch and swap the busy and the chaos has now no way of escape, our minds instead become like computers, the successful ones functioning like good programming, with organization of thoughts and flow the absolute paramountal key to living a modern, successful existence.  But herein lies this problem our minds again bombarded and bombarded are asked to take over again.  And wherein lies then our own physicality?  Our understanding of our own physicality?  In our wardrobe, in our clothes where they act as an integrated barrier into the outside world, as a contextual insertion, fashion acting as much like the way a chameleon blends to fit, we too blend to fit, and we too express our anger, our emotions, our mood too through colour and even shape.  It is those people then who dress and who run, who understand their own existence and relate their own existence to the outside world that can function through release and contact into and with the outside world, who then can go on to become a success, who can organize who can breath in this chaos because for brief moments they understand the greatness and the magnificence of the physical world and the context in which we live.  

This and these necessary actions happen in the city alone, where bombardment and activity and hardscape are non stop.  Those countryside folk, their distinction not necessarily in their upbringing or heritage but more to do with the fact that they don't have to strive to connect to understand, to make room for their own physicality, as they are given it then and there on their doorstep, and what is more there is room for its domination over the busyness of the mind and therefore these 'countryfolk' are able to attain a sense of ongoing peace, they have the knowledge, the knowledge that the city folk forget and that is that there is no knowledge enough like knowing that we need know nothing to be happy, that happiness is more often reached by the lack of thoughts, by the openness of the mind, by the connection between ourselves and the outside context and landscape.  Yet we need more. 

We become saddened instantly if we feel this moment to be threatened, for the Romantics it was industry careering through the countryside, for us it is often now the fear that this moment can't be shared, in other words that it may be forgotten, that if it wasn't recorded for others, if it wasn't communicated then we may not remember it or indeed that it may not even have happened at all.  Somehow or another we have become reliant upon the picture image, of the moving image as another form of storytelling, the act of telling it or showing it makes it live again and perhaps even stronger, or more vividly more wonderfully we think sometimes than the actual moment itself.  Partly it is because potentially these moments are often experienced on our own and the fear that is induced by the sublime moment, is potentially partly to do with one’s very keen awareness of oneself against the world, or in more gently, oneself in the context of the world.  This is very rarely ourselves against the great world, unless of course we are watching a cinematic picture and there is that clip where the characters we have been watching become part of a crowd, made to look small against whatever natural disaster looks to be about to take them over..  This collective grouping...is of course used as a device, a double whammy, we are small individuals in the context of the human landscape and we are even smaller in comparison to the natural one.  

Why we want to share that moment with someone else, why we feel that sense of lack when we see awe, perhaps it is that ultimate sense of solitude inspired in us at that moment and the need to anchor, the desire for intimacy with another apart.  Ultimately a shared experience is a comforting experience, it allows the eyes to shine again at recollection, for our minds to rush back to the time when the outside was more important than the interior furnishings of our head.