An English Picnic

Picnic at Longleate from Humphry Repton’s Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening (1816)

Who doesn’t love a summer picnic?  Here, in London, as soon as the sun begins to shine, it seems that every public green space, regardless of size, is pressed into service as a picnicking venue. Outdoor dining, in various forms, grew in popularity in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, alongside the fashion for day excursions to picturesque spots, landscape gardens and historic sites.

The picnic, or pique-nique has its origins in 18th century France, describing an indoor, male-only gathering, where invited guests contributed food and drink.  As French nationals fled revolutionary France for England, picnics, in their indoor format, and often including an amateur theatrical performance, started to become popular in London.

Another French term for a shared meal, which took place outdoors in a rural setting, was Le Repas Champêtre.  This gathering was open to women and children, as well as men.  In Le Repas Champêtre / Costumes de Lucerne (1820s), by the Swiss artist, Gabriel Lory le fils, a group of agricultural workers in traditional dress share a meal under a tree on the edge of a hayfield, surrounded by their rakes.  It’s likely the women are also working, perhaps taking it in turns to look after a baby and toddler under the shade of a large tree.

Le Repas Champetre / Costumes de Lucerne 1820s after Gabriel Lory le fils © The Trustees of the British Museum

It was this atmosphere of idealised rural simplicity that wealthier classes wished to re-create, although their version of Le Repas Champêtre was activity of leisure, rather than a daily necessity.  An English print entitled The Anglers Repast (1789), shows a well-dressed group setting up their outdoor meal helped by a black servant, who is unloading their boat and passing a bottle of wine to one of the guests.  The use of the word ‘repast’ suggests a modest meal appropriate for a working fisherman, but the presence of a servant, the group’s clothes and the household chairs transported for the comfort of the female guests all indicate this fishing excursion is entirely for pleasure.

The Anglers Repast 1789 William Ward after George Morland © The Trustees of the British Museum

The Spinnie 1810 – 1839 circa William Harvey © The Trustees of the British Museum

From the early 19th century the term picnic started to be used more broadly in England to include outdoor gatherings where food was consumed.  The historian Alexander Lee records several examples of picnics in books for children, the journals of Dorothy Wordsworth and most famously in Jane Austen’s Emma (1815) which describes the fractious picnic outing to Box Hill, Surrey.

Detail of Picnic at Longleate from Humphry Repton’s Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening (1816)

An impressive double page illustration from Humphry Repton’s Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening (1816) provides a glimpse of a picnic excursion to Prospect Hill, at the Longleat Estate in Wiltshire. Two women are seated on the ground on what looks to be a white tablecloth, which one of the servants is arranging for them, while their two male companions survey the scene.  The second servant is unpacking a basket containing wine and other paraphernalia for their enjoyment including a parasol.

Repton is clearly approving of excursions like these, applauding the Marquis of Bath for his generosity in welcoming visitors to his estate:

‘This magnificent Park, so far from being kept locked up to exclude mankind from partaking of its scenery, is always open, and parties are permitted to bring their refreshments; which circumstance tends to enliven the scene, to extend a more general knowledge of its beauties to strangers, and to mark the liberality of its Noble Proprietor, in thus deigning to participate with others the good he enjoys.’

The popularity of country seats with their grand gardens as picnicking spots is revealed in prints showing gatherings at Stourhead, also in Wiltshire, Forde Abbey in Dorset and at Leeds Castle in Kent.  Sheltered by a bank, shaded by a tree, or close to open water, the participants look relaxed in their idyllic surroundings.

Ford Abbey, Dorsetshire. 19th century, anon © The Trustees of the British Museum

Leeds Castle, Kent 1800 James Storer after John Nixon © The Trustees of the British Museum

Gardens at Stourhead, Co. Wilts George Cooke, after John ‘Warwick’ Smith © The Trustees of the British Museum

Richmond 1819 James Charles Allen after Ramsey Richard Reinagle © The Trustees of the British Museum

An English Scene 1830 – 1850 circa
Alfred Ashley © The Trustees of the British Museum

Images of picnics influenced by The Romantic Movement have their own particular character.  Their focus on wild places, and the appreciation of nature is apparent, showing mixed groups of men and women enjoying the mountains of the Lake District and the coast of Cornwall.  These participants seem more self–reliant, transporting their own refreshments and equipment, without the help of servants, to a viewpoint from which to appreciate the spectacular scenery.

In Derwent Water, Cumberland (1849) by George Baxter (1804 – 1867) it’s not difficult to imagine William and Dorothy Wordsworth at a gathering like this with their circle of literary friends  – which was doubtless what Baxter had in mind when he produced this souvenir of Cumberland, a destination popularised by Wordsworth’s poetry and cultural commentaries.  The group’s lively conversation is significant, hinting at the importance to the Romantic Movement of group excursions like these as an opportunity to exchange ideas, as well as to appreciate the views.

Baxter was a pioneer of colour printing, and his system involved a key plate, over which a sequence of separate colours were added in a specific order.  Although his patented process was successful and popular, his business was never profitable.  This print also appeared as an illustration in the books Loitering among the Lakes and the Scripture Pocket Book.  (As part of researching this subject, I’ve realised we have Baxter’s charming print, bought at auction in Cumbria as part of a larger lot, and presently residing in our spare room – now with greater honour, knowing the British Museum has one in their collection.)

Derwent Water, Cumberland
Print by George Baxter using his patent oil printing process (1849) © The Trustees of the British Museum

Windermere lake, looking down William Le Petit after George Pickering © The Trustees of the British Museum

Cornwall 1836 – 1864 circa Ebenezer Challis after Thomas Challom © The Trustees of the British Museum

Whatever kind of picnic you enjoy, I hope these images will tempt you on your own excursion this summer.  While fashions come and go, the appeal of the picnic is unchanging.

Most of these prints are from the British Museum’s online collection – links below:

The British Museum Collection online here

Alexander Lee’s History of the Picnic in History Today here

Humphry Repton’s Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening here

George Baxter, engraver and printer, Wikipedia here

Julien Gérardin’s Spring Blossom

Autochromes by Julien Gérardin from the collection of the École Supérieure d’art et de design de Nancy (ÉNSAD)

Now, in April, the overwhelming wonder of cherry blossom heralds the season of spring.  Over one hundred years ago, Julien Géradin documented the spectacular beauty of cherry orchards in flower in a series of autochromes taken at the gardens at Jarville, near Nancy, eastern France, and in the surrounding countryside.

Enormous, established trees tower above the women posed next to them, speaking of a time before the mass industrialisation of agriculture, and before smaller, more compact trees were introduced for ease of pruning and harvesting.  Between the widely spaced trees, the grass is unmown and filled with wild flowers.

It’s all too easy to over expose images of white flowers in bright light, and Gérardin avoids this, both by choosing slightly overcast conditions, and by making use of the shade cast by the canopy of the trees.  The clusters of white flowers, almost luminous in places, fade and darken towards the edge of the image, seeming to melt into the thick, black border of the photograph.

Photographs of women posed in outdoor locations, typically with parasols, or coloured shawls, was a convention started by the Lumière brothers, inventors of the autochrome, as a device to demonstrate, and market, their colour photographic process.  Gérardin continues this convention in his work, and the shawls worn by his models in peach, apricot and terracotta shades provide a point of focus amongst the cool textures and tones of the blossom and meadow.

Géradin’s use of colour is always considered, and occasionally he rejects coloured props altogether.  In one image, a simple white blouse worn by a young woman seems to amplify both the clouds of pale blossom above her head, and the fallen petals beneath her feet; while the inky black of her coat and long skirt echoes the dark trunks of the trees.  Occasionally, however, the formality of the women’s clothes, especially the elaborate hats worn by some of his models, creates a curious tension with the naturalistic, rural setting.

Géradin frequently included local agricultural workers in his photographs, sometimes posed on their own, or in groups with baskets, rakes and other gardening paraphernalia.  Instead of shawls, they wear coloured aprons.  The young woman in a light blue blouse who features in a number of these images was a servant in the household at Jarville.

The flowering trees hardly ever appear in their entirety in Géradin’s photographs.  By presenting them cropped in this way, he suggests an even greater abundance of blossom beyond the confines of the frame, and creates a sense that the memory of this spectacle, whilst powerful, is always fragmentary.

Julien Gérardin (1860 – 1924) worked as a notary in the French town of Nancy, where he also lived.  As an amateur photographer, and member of the prestigious Société Lorraine de Photographie, he produced hundreds of autochromes in the early years of the 20th century which are now part of the collection of the École Supérieure d’art et de design de Nancy (ÉNSAD) and include many images of plants, parks and gardens.  With great generosity, ÉNSAD has digitised all Géradin’s work, which is available on their website for all to enjoy – links as usual below.

Femme Dans La Campagne

Femme Dans La Campagne

Femme Dans La Campagne (Houdemont)

Femme Dans La Campagne (Houdemont)

Dans La Campagne

Femme au jardin en fleurs

Femme au jardin en fleurs

Femme au jardin

Femme en costume japonaise dans le jardin (Jarville)

Femme en costume japonaise dans le jardin (Jarville)

Femmes sous un arbre en fleurs

Trois paysannes ou servantes à la brouette

Servante ou paysanne au jardin

Servante ou paysanne au jardin

Servante ou paysanne au jardin

Servante ou paysanne au jardin

Further reading:

Autochromes at ÉNSAD here

Julien Gérardin’s Wikipedia entry here

Science and Media Museum’s History of the Autochrome here

The Sick Rose: A Botanical Exploration

Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge

There’s something sinister about the tangled, prickly stems framing William Blake’s illustration for his song, The Sick Rose.  The large, crimson flowered rose is no longer upright; it has collapsed, its beautiful head now lying on the ground, alerting us that all is not well in the garden.

At the top of the image, where we might expect a healthy rose to appear, is the arched, segmented body of a caterpillar.  Its shape seems to mimic the pattern of the prickly rose stem just behind it; perhaps a natural camouflage device offering some protection from predatory birds, or a gardener seeking to remove it before more damage is done.

Sometimes called the ‘worm i’ the bud’, a moth larvae was once well known for attacking rose buds and hollowing them out from the inside, spoiling the flowers.  The florist, Thomas Hogg, writing in 1822 observes that rose buds, ‘are very often destroyed in the spring by a small dark red grub, which feeds upon them, folds itself up in the leaves, and then changes into a moth chrysalis;’.  John Fraser, who managed a plant nursery in Lea Bridge Road, East London in the mid-19th century, refers to a caterpillar which attacks the rose shoots as soon as they begins to grow and suggests picking the pests off by hand.

It’s unclear exactly when this troublesome caterpillar disappeared from the English garden, and unlikely that it was mourned by gardeners – but its loss is an indicator of the gradual decline in biodiversity.  It would also explain why we no longer know much about this moth, which is not mentioned in today’s gardening literature.

Used as a metaphor for sexual violence in The Sick Rose, the relationship between the rose and the caterpillar is echoed in popular songs from the late eighteenth century.  Published by Joseph Ritson, A Select Collection of English Songs (1783) contains songs where women are symbolised by the rose, and where the interaction between a rose and an insect is sexualised.

In one of these songs, adapted from a Spanish madrigal by Mr Garrick, a bee is attracted away from a damask rose by the sweetness of a young woman named Louisa, and leaves his sting in her lip.  This verse from another song, by Sir William Yonge explores a similar theme:

‘With wanton flight the curious bee
From flow’r to flow’r still wanders free;
And where each blossom blows,
Extracts the juice of all he meets,
But, for his quintessence of sweets

He ravishes the rose.’

By replacing the bee with a caterpillar, in The Sick Rose, a creature people were far less well disposed towards, the attack on the rose seems more shocking.  Instead of flying by day, like the bee, the moth flies unseen by night, suggesting danger. As the tiny eggs laid on the rose bud hatch, they will eventually cause its destruction.

Joseph Ritson (1752 – 1803) was a significant figure in the life of William Blake.  A publisher who employed Blake as a commercial artist, Ritson produced compilations of English and Scottish songs, poetry, literature, fairy tales and nursery rhymes; all subjects that interested and inspired Blake.

A Select Collection of English Songs appeared in three volumes; the first is a compilation of love songs, the second a collection of drinking songs and other miscellaneous songs and ballads, while the third contains musical notation for the songs.  Blake provided several engravings for this book, taken from a series of paintings by James Stodhart.

In the light of Blake’s involvement with Ritson’s song collection, it seems evident that Blake has drawn inspiration from the songs it contains.  Throughout his Songs of Innocence and Experience, Blake uses the conventional forms of these popular lyrics, but adjusts the content, reflecting his own unconventional viewpoint.

A Select Collection of English Songs Vol 1
Engraving by William Blake after Stothard

A Select Collection of English Songs Vol 1
Engraving by William Blake after Stothard

A Select Collection of English Songs Vol 1
Disdain returned

A Select Collection of English Songs Vol 2
(engraving – Heath)

Blake’s image of The Sick Rose is highly stylised, and not really possible to identify as a particular species or variety, but we know that at the end of the 18th century, the range of roses grown in England was a fraction of those available today.  In Roses, or, A monograph of the genus Rosa (1805), the author Henry Charles Andrews estimates ‘within a hundred’ varieties were cultivated.   In his book, sixty are illustrated, observed in his friends’ gardens as well as at leading nurseries in Chelsea, and at Loddiges in Hackney.   I’ve included some of the roses from Andrews’ monograph that have thorny stems and red flowers, including the moss rose, which was hugely popular in Georgian gardens.

Moss Rose from Roses, or, A Monograph of the Genus Rosa

Province Rose

Double Sweet Brier or Eglantine Rose

Rosa Gallica, officinal or French Red Rose

Rosa ferox
Fierce or Hedge-hog Rose

It’s now more than two centuries since William Blake published his Songs of Innocence and Experience, and over time, some of the cultural connections they contain, that would have been clear to his contemporaries, have become eroded.  All the texts discussed here, which shed light on these connections, enrich our understanding of Blake’s songs in some way, supplying context and illuminating their meaning.  Thanks as ever to libraries and archives that continue to digitise their collections and make them available.

Further reading:

Songs of Innocence published 1789 and together with Song of Experience 1794
The British Library’s commentary here

Joseph Ritson on Wikipedia here

A Select Collection of English Songs Vol 1 here

Another interesting book about English Songs by John Aikin and Mrs Barbauld:
Essays on Song Writing: with a collection of such English songs as are most eminent for poetical merit (1772) here

Roses, or, A Monograph of the Genus Rosa here

Hippolyte Bayard’s Garden

Self-portrait in the garden
Salted paper print, 1847
All photographs courtesy of the J Paul Getty Museum (unless otherwise stated)

This remarkable image of a man standing in his garden was produced by Hippolyte Bayard (1801 – 1887), an early pioneer of photography.  His record of people and the built environment around Paris, where he lived, provides a vivid insight into the character of cultural life during this period.

Vernacular gardens are by their nature ephemeral places, so Bayard’s photographs from the 1840s showing his own garden, clearly a place he valued, and which features repeatedly in his work, is especially captivating for anyone interested in these spaces.

A strong sense of composition is evident in ‘Self-portrait in the garden’ (1847).  The photographer leans on an enormous barrel, on top of which a tall ceramic vessel is placed, creating a connection between these two bulky objects, while a simple wooden ladder, balanced against the garden wall, adds more height and balance.  If we look closely at the slightly irregular grid of the rustic trellis forming a background to the photograph, stems of a climbing plant are visible, trained along its structure.  At ground level we see various terracotta pots, a watering can, as well as low-growing, evergreen plants – probably box – edging the borders.  As well as plants, Bayard appears to have appreciated the objects and paraphernalia of gardening.

Bayard’s interest in the natural world is clear from his earliest photographic impressions made in the 1830s using salted paper prints and cyanotypes.  He takes great care in the arrangement of plant specimens, feathers, fragments of cloth and lace.  A long raceme of wisteria flowers looks elegant placed next to a leaf with a similar form, while in another image Bayard uses a range of different shapes – the spiky structure of a nigella flower contrasting with the softer outlines of sweet peas and nasturtiums.

Plant specimens
Salted paper print, about 1839 – 1841

Arrangement of flowers
Salted paper print, about 1839 – 1843

Arrangement of Specimens
Cyanotype, about 1842

Three feathers
Cyanotype, 1840 – 1841

Further photographs of Bayard’s garden appear to show the trellis later in the season, clothed with vine leaves.  In ‘Chair and watering can in the garden’, the vine leaves, combined with tall hollyhocks in the flower border fill the frame with foliage, while the empty chair seems to invite the viewer to take a seat and enjoy the lush growth.

Chair and watering can in a garden
Salted paper print from a calotype negative, about 1843 – 1847

Self-portrait in a garden
Salted paper print, about 1845 – 1849

‘Garden Wall with tools’ (September 1844) suggests late summer warmth, with slanting shadows in the bright light, and an open shutter on the right, allowing sunlight into the house.

Garden Wall with tools
Salted paper print, September 1844

Leaves on a trellis
Salted paper print, about 1847

Still Life in Bayard’s Garden: Baskets, Watering Can and Planter Pots
1848

Potted Plant in a Garden
Salted paper print, 1849

The wooden gate in ‘Self-portrait in front of garden’ (1845), is another example of rustic woodwork, and features in several photographs of various visitors to Bayard’s garden.

Self-portrait in front of garden
Hand coloured salted paper print June 1845

Two Men and a Girl in a Garden
Albumenised salted paper print, about 1847

Group portrait in garden
Salted paper print, about 1847

Portrait of Georgina Benoist at gate
Salted paper print, about 1840 -1849

Bayard also produced still life studies of flower arrangements, often using dahlias.  Originally from Mexico, dahlias began to be cultivated as garden plants in Europe in the 1820s.  Dahlias were at the height of their popularity in the 1830s and 40s, when dozens of new double varieties were introduced by plant breeders, including a red flowered form which hadn’t been seen previously.  These plants were highly collectible and still relatively expensive to buy, so represent a nod to Bayard’s engagement with gardening fashions.  ‘Vase of flowers’ (about 1845 – 1846) shows dahlias in pride of place in his arrangement, with the light from a window creating a splash of brightness on a wall and the vase of flowers casting a beautiful shadow.

Vase of flowers
Salted paper print, about 1845 – 1846

Vase of flowers
Salted paper print, 1847

Flowers in a vase
Salted paper print, about 1845 – 1849

Hippolyte Bayard was employed as a civil servant in the 1830s and, according to the J Paul Getty Museum, ‘devoted much of his free time inventing processes that captured and fixed images from nature on paper using a basic camera, chemicals and light.’   However, Bayard’s achievements were overshadowed by the launch of the daguerreotype in 1839.  With the backing of the French government, the daguerreotype became the first commercially successful photographic process.

Bayard’s response to his disappointment at having been overlooked in favour of Daguerre’s rival process was to produce an extraordinary photograph – ‘Self-portrait as a drowned man (1840).  The text written on the back of the image reads:

The corpse of the gentleman you see here . . . is that of Monsieur Bayard, inventor of the process that you have just seen. . . . As far as I know this ingenious and indefatigable experimenter has been occupied for about three years with perfecting his discovery. . . . The Government, who gave much to Monsieur Daguerre, has said it can do nothing for Monsieur Bayard, and the poor wretch has drowned himself. Oh the vagaries of human life! . . . He has been at the morgue for several days, and no-one has recognized or claimed him. Ladies and gentlemen, you’d better pass along for fear of offending your sense of smell, for as you can observe, the face and hands of the gentleman are beginning to decay.’

Bayard’s creation of this photographic alter ego, expressing both his personal pain and his unfair treatment by the French government, is full of satirical complexity.  Today the image seems extraordinarily modern, bringing to mind the work of artists like Cindy Sherman, Robert Mapplethorpe, and many others, who have used photographic self-portraits in their work.

The powerful message of Bayard’s self-portrait seems to have prompted the French Academy of Sciences to recognise and acquire details of his photographic process and Bayard used the money to purchase better equipment to progress his experimentation.  His involvement with photography continued – as well as being a founder member of the Société française de photographie he was also commissioned to record historical sites in France for the Historic Monuments Commission.

Self-portrait as a drowned man 1840
(Wikimedia Commons)

In the studio of Bayard
Salted paper print from a paper negative, about 1845

Links to Bayard’s work at the J Paul Getty Museum below:

Further reading:

J Paul Getty Museum biography of Hippolyte Bayard here

Hippolyte Bayard on Wikipedia here

Curator Carolyn Peter’s reflections on Bayard here

The Stanford Dahlia project here

Remembering Roger Phillips

Wild Flowers of Britain (Pan Books 1977)

Roger Phillips MBE 1932 – 2021

Last November saw the death of artist, photographer and horticultural writer Roger Phillips.  Well known as an author of over thirty books about plants and gardens, published over a long period beginning in the late 1970s, many were collaborations with botanist and horticultural expert Martyn Rix, or his partner, Nicky Foy.

Looking through our collection of gardening books at home, I see we have acquired at least ten of these over the years.  Their accessible style, concise descriptions of plants and abundance of colour photographs enabling readers to identify plants with confidence, made them deservedly popular.  They’re still invaluable guides, including those new to horticulture, the audience for whom they were originally produced.

Phillips’ first book, Wild Flowers of Britain, was published by Pan Books in 1977.  Living in London in the 1970s Phillips felt that his son was missing out on the experience of the countryside, and began taking him on regular weekend trips out of the city.  Becoming curious about wild plants growing in the fields and hedgerows, Phillips found it was not always straightforward to identify these from books containing botanical illustrations.  He was persuaded that colour photography would make this process easier for the beginner, and as he explains in the introduction, Wild Flowers of Britain was his attempt to ‘make the book I needed seven years ago’.

Illustrated with Phillips’ now iconic still life photographs of specimens arranged on a white background, each plant was profiled with its common and Latin name, and a brief description of its characteristics and distribution.  Another aid to identification was the arrangement of plants in chronological flowering order, so the reader could see month by month which plants were likely to be in flower.

An immediate success on publication, Wild Flowers of Britain established a winning format for a series of similar thematic surveys including (amongst many others) Trees of Britain, Europe and North America, Shrubs, Perennials, Bulbs, and Mushrooms, often co-written with Martyn Rix.  As the series developed, photographs of plants growing in their natural habitats were introduced, alongside Phillips’ still life images, assisting our understanding of how plants have travelled from all over the world to find new homes in our gardens.

Poplars, Elm, Hazel, Alder, Willow from Wild Flowers of Britain (1977) Photograph by Roger Phillips

Trees in Britain, Europe and North America (Pan Book 1978)

Bulbs (Pan Books 1989 – first published in 1981)

Shrubs (Pan Books 1994)

Perennials Volume 1 Early Perennials (Pan Books 1993)

Herbs (Pan Books 1992)

Annuals and Biennials (Macmillan 1999)

The Quest for the Rose (BBC Books 1993)

Roses were a special interest for both Phillips and Rix and The Quest for the Rose, both a book and a TV series, (BBC Books 1993) was a monumental project , uncovering the origins of garden roses.

The account of their journey to China, written in diary form, is especially vivid, as they search for wild rose species and cultivars first imported to Europe in the 18th and 19th centuries.  These roses were hugely significant in the development of repeat flowering roses, such as hybrid teas.  We share their excitement as they encounter these important roses, still growing by roadsides, in public parks and in the gardens of Chinese farmers.  On finding the Tea-scented Rose, Rosa gigantea growing in a ditch close to the Burma Road in Kunming, Phillips records, ‘we all fell out over whether the scent actually was in any way reminiscent of tea.’

This section could almost be a book in itself – as could the pithy biographical profiles of important rose breeders which appear throughout the text.

The Ultimate Guide to Roses (Macmillan 2004)

A Photographic Garden History (Macmillan 1995)

A Photographic Garden History (Macmillan 1995) was written over a number of years with Phillips’ partner Nicky Foy.  Divided into three sections, it covers European, Chinese and Japanese garden styles through the ages.  As its title suggests, much space is devoted to photographs of the various gardens, and these are recorded in the same pragmatic way as Phillips recorded plants; without flattery and showing them as the average visitor might see them.

Phillips was also expert at distilling the spirit of each garden in his succinct descriptions.  At Versailles, he relates an account of ‘how flowers were bedded out even on freezing winter days so that Louis could proudly show his treasure to guests and any flowers that drooped in the icy conditions were changed during dinner so that the display remained immaculate.’  The wealth and power of French royalty in the 18th century, and the absurdity of its extravagance, are perfectly captured in this small detail.

Roger Phillips was born in Uxbridge, west London and studied painting at Chelsea School of Art before becoming a trainee art director at the advertising agency Ogilvy & Mather.  He turned freelance in the late sixties.  Alongside his writing career, Phillips was also a practical gardener, establishing collections of ceanothus, camellias and climbing roses at Eccleston Square, in London, where he was Honorary Garden Manager.

Phillips saw himself as a pioneer of using colour photography ‘as a reliable means of identifying plants’.  His use of colour was pragmatic and practical, and also egalitarian – by using the visual language of popular culture, and commerce, he aligned himself with the public and found a connection with them.  Some of his still life plant portraits from Wild Flowers of Britain are preserved in the V&A’s photography collection.

Always generous with his encyclopedic plant knowledge, Phillips’ enthusiasm for his subject is infectious, as is his passion for educating others and inviting the reader to accompany him on his personal voyage of discovery.  The popularity of his books means they are still readily available and well worth searching out.

Further reading:

Eccleston Square Gardens here

The Guardian Obituary Roger Phillips here

Martin Engelbrecht’s Parterre Gardener

The Parterre Gardener
50 coloured plates engraved by Martin Engelbrecht, from eighteenth century German works. Courtesy Wellcome Collection.

This professional gardener, posed with the tools of his trade, a selection of choice garden plants and a design for a fashionable parterre garden, was engraved by the German artist Martin Engelbrecht (1684 – 1756).  The Parterre Gardener is just one example from Engelbrecht’s series of coloured engravings depicting caricatures of tradesmen and their wives; a project remarkable for the traders’ elaborate costumes, constructed out of items used in their line of work.

The array of items they sell – from clocks and musical instruments to spices and medicines, suggests the status of these traders is far above the humble street hawker – these are suppliers of luxury goods and services to a wealthy clientele.  While the traders’ youthful faces and fine clothes display confidence and indicate success in their chosen professions, the exaggerated stylisation of their costumes, beyond any ordinary practicality, imparts a doll or puppet like character to these figures.

Our parterre gardener is dressed in a smart green jacket, edged with lace and gold brocade – perhaps a costume in which to meet clients rather than engage in hands-on gardening.  Flanked by two citrus trees in containers, he is located in a walled garden containing three precisely constructed parterre beds, demonstrating the quality of his work.

His tools include a rake, a hoe and an edger, while suspended from the arm of his jacket are pegs for laying out parterre designs, a pocket knife, a sickle and gardening scissors – all used for pruning and shaping plants before the invention of the secateurs and lopper.

The flowers which decorate the gardener’s straw hat and jacket include red and white roses, daffodils, white lilies, hyacinth, snowdrops and peony – as well as striped or ‘broken’ tulips.  Under his arm is a terracotta pot containing carnations, another example of blooms especially popular with ‘florists or collectors of flowering plants in the 17th and 18th centuries.

Balanced against a lemon tree, the gardener’s drawing for a parterre garden indicates his skill as a designer.  His dynamic pose, as if approaching to greet the viewer (or client) underlines his ability both to plan and implement a stylish, contemporary garden.

The Parterre Gardener’s Wife
50 coloured plates engraved by Martin Engelbrecht, from eighteenth century German works. Courtesy Wellcome Collection.

Most of Engelbrecht’s tradespeople are accompanied by their wives, also wearing costumes incorporating elements relating to their husbands’ businesses.  The parterre gardener’s wife is dressed in a vibrant yellow dress with a blue bodice, shaped to resemble a flower pot.  Her basket is full of flowers, broadly similar to those worn by her husband, but with the addition of a sunflower (perhaps to complement the colour of her dress) and the herb marjoram.  Next to her, in wooden containers, are fine examples of an aloe and a flowering yucca plant.

Perhaps the women were included partly to give the artist another opportunity to show his skill and ingenuity in constructing elaborate sets of costumes – but at the same time, it is known that women in this period became involved in family businesses, in a variety of ways, if not as equal partners.  In any case, it is pleasing to see them represented as part of the series.

Based in Augsberg, Germany, and sometimes working with his brother Christian, another accomplished engraver, Martin Engelbrecht was also known for his paper miniature theatres.

His extraordinary series of coloured engravings of tradespeople can be found at the Wellcome Collection’s website – full details below.

Link to Engelbrecht’s tradespeople here

Link to Martin Engelbrecht’s wikipedia entry here

Valerie Finnis and the World of Alpine Gardening

Colour photograph of Valerie Finnis. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Last month it was my great honour to deliver a short presentation about the horticulturalist and photographer Valerie Finnis, for Colour Fever, an online celebration of colour photography organised by the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.

Under a broad heading of Colour, Amateurs and the Role of Societies, I discussed Valerie’s involvement with the Alpine Garden Society and the Royal Horticultural Society, her documentation of alpine plants, and her portraits of alpine garden enthusiasts.  This connection with alpine gardening is, of course, just one thread of Valerie’s interesting life and photographic output, but with so many possible angles, I was grateful for a precise framework to focus my research.

My thanks to the RHS Lindley Library for their permission to publish these photographs from the presentation, enabling me to share some of Valerie’s original and uplifting work.

Colour photograph of Waterperry students in Valerie Finnis’ Alpine House. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

This photograph, taken in the 1950s, shows two students at the Waterperry Horticultural School for Women – one is arranging pots containing alpine plants, while another waters them.  It was taken by Valerie Finnis who trained as a professional gardener at Waterperry, near Oxford, in the 1940s.  It was here that she developed her fascination with alpine plants, becoming an expert in this field of horticulture.

Colour photograph – [ trees and flowers (Trollius Europaeus?) on mountain slopes]. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

As their name suggests, alpine plants are found in mountainous regions of the world and have evolved to grow in a habitat that experiences exposed conditions, extremes of climate and thin, rocky soils.  Many have very brightly coloured flowers which has made them popular with collectors.  This photograph, taken by Valerie in the European Alps, gives a flavour of the alpine environment.

Colour photograph of Wilhelm Schacht, curator of the Munich Botanical Garden. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Valerie learned about the process of photography in the mid 1950s from Wilhelm Schacht, the Curator of the Munich Botanical Garden.  He gave her a Rolleiflex camera which she continued to use for decades.  Schacht was also an alpine plant enthusiast and is pictured here in the Italian Dolomites, where he and Valerie first met each other.

Valerie’s photographic work falls into two distinct themes  – her portraits of plants and portraits of people, from her wide circle of friends associated with gardening.

Collins Guide to Alpines by Anna N. Griffith (1964)

The Collins Guide to Alpines and Rock Garden Plants was first published in 1964 and is a good example of the kind of specialist publication where Valerie’s photographs of plants appeared. It was written by Anna Griffith, one of a circle of alpine plant enthusiasts who were friends and associates of Valerie.  Two hundred of Valerie’s photographs were used in this book, which Griffiths notes came from Valerie’s ‘extensive collection’.

Anna Griffith was an original member of the Alpine Garden Society (established in 1929) and, according to the cover of the Collins Guide, had grown ‘practically every plant described in the book’.

Collins Guide to Alpines by Anna N. Griffith (1964)

These pages show how Valerie’s colour photographs make identification of these low growing alpine plants much easier for the reader than looking at black and white images.   The colour photography also played a role in popularising alpine gardening – transforming the plants into desirable items for people to buy, and start to build their own collections.

Collins Guide to Alpines by Anna N. Griffith (1964)

The diagrams on the left correspond to the pots filled with saxifrage plants shown in the photographs, and a key lists the name of each variety. Again, we can see how similar these tiny plants are, and how much the colour photographs help the reader to tell them apart.

This Collins guide was re-printed several times and it remains a tribute to the knowledge and expertise of both these women.

Colour photograph of roses, undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

While Valerie certainly started as an amateur photographer, she was confident enough in her work to promote it, and by the 1960s and 70s Valerie enjoyed some success as a plant photographer.  She was represented by the Harry Smith Collection, who specialised in garden related content.

As well as books and magazines, her work was also used in advertising print campaigns and for items like greetings cards and calendars.  Here we see an original transparency showing a still life of roses, which would have been cropped and colour corrected for commercial use.

Colour photograph of judging at an RHS Westminster show. Pictured are: David Shackleton, Captain G.K. Mooney, Sir Fredrick Stern, E. B. Anderson, John Mowat, Randle ‘R.B.’ Cooke, and W.G. Robinson. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Since the 1920s the Alpine Garden Society has organised regular competitive plant shows which take place all over the UK.  These shows are judged by the Joint Rock Committee – a group of people made up of members of the Royal Horticultural Society, Alpine Garden Society and the Scottish Rock Garden Club.  Valerie was a member of the Joint Rock committee for twenty years, from 1962 – 1982.

This photograph taken at the Royal Horticultural Society in London shows the atmosphere at these events.  There’s a strong sense of a community, with members exchanging views and ideas.

Colour photograph – ‘Ken Aslett by RHS.. Hall. V Finnis pits for GS show on pavement’. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

This photograph shows a selection of alpine plants from Valerie’s own collection, in the process of being unloaded from her Morris Minor car for a show at Vincent Square.  The bursts of colour provided by the flowers make a striking contrast with the greyness of post-war London, and the red lining of the interior of her car door also adds to the success of the photograph.

Colour photograph of RHS Committee Judges Gerard Parker, Herbert Clifford Crook (1882-1974) and Saunders. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

This photograph seems like a good introduction to the other strand of Valerie’s work – her portraits of people.  While Valerie’s photographs of plants are quite conventional, her approach to photographing people is more unusual. As a photographer Valerie shows a tendency to depict gardening experts and enthusiasts in ways that might appear strange, ironic, or even ridiculous, to outsiders.

The intense gaze of this group makes them look slightly terrifying, as they stand guard over the Alpine Garden Society’s stall at a show. So, while there’s a clear documentary thread to Valerie’s work, the objectivity we might expect from a documentary photographer is sometimes absent, or compromised in some way.

Colour photograph of an Alpine Garden Society plant sale in Kent. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

This crowd of sensibly dressed people at an Alpine Garden Society plant sale in Kent, each with a collection of plant pots at their feet, is apparently listening politely to a speech – on the right hand edge of the image we can just see a man addressing the gathering.  The unusual composition of this photograph, with the enthusiasts’ backs to the camera, establishes the photographer as an observer and helps to create the slightly absurd feeling of the occasion.

Colour photograph of Clarence Elliott, in his alpine greenhouse at Six Hills Nursery in Stevenage. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Clarence Elliott founded the Six Hills Nursery in Stevenage in 1907, and was responsible for popularising the use of stone troughs for miniature alpine gardensMiniature alpine gardens were very popular in the 1960s and 70s, and for those who couldn’t afford a stone trough, old ceramic butler sinks were sometimes used as a cheaper alternative.

Valerie uses the location of the glasshouse in lots of her individual portraits of alpine enthusiasts.  I like the way Valerie uses the shape of the glasshouse window to frame her picture.

Colour photograph of Cecilia Christie-Miller and her father admiring alpine plants in the alpine house. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Valerie captures perfectly the gentle pride and admiration these alpine enthusiasts have for their plants.  I like the contrast between the vertical lines of the glasshouse windows and the soft, rounded shapes of the flowering plants.

Brent Elliot, former Head Librarian at the RHS Lindley Library, who knew Valerie, told me that as well as taking photographs of alpine specialists, she also recorded interviews with them – the idea was eventually to produce a book about them – but this project was never realised.

Colour photograph of alpine enthusiasts and Alpine Garden Society members Mr. and Mrs. Gerard Parker. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Another theme Valerie uses in her portraits is posture – she often shows people in the act of gardening, bending, kneeling down or adopting other postures appropriate to the activity.  This couple are Mr and Mrs Gerard Parker, described as stalwarts of the Alpine Garden Society.  Here, they’re bending down to examine snowdrops in flower.  I like the detail of the man’s leather briefcase and the woman’s plastic mac.

Colour photograph of Sir David Scott and Finnis gardening at Boughton House, Northamptonshire on their wedding day. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

This photograph shows Valerie and her husband Sir David Scott, weeding their rock garden, apparently on the occasion of their wedding day in 1970.  According to Ursula Buchan, Valerie’s biographer, ‘An hour after they were married at Weekley church in Northamptonshire, they were out in the garden weeding.’

By photographing herself and David in this unusual pose, perhaps it somehow ‘permits’ Valerie to use the same candid approach when photographing other people?

Colour photograph of Sir David Scott. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Sir David Scott was a retired diplomat and is pictured here in the garden of the Dower House at Boughton House, in Northamptonshire, where they lived.  Valerie’s marriage opened the door to a completely new social circle for her – which Valerie seems to have relished.  Many of Sir David’s society friends had large gardens and took an active interest in their upkeep.  Soon Valerie was photographing these new friends – who she recorded in the same style as her alpine circle.

Colour photograph – ‘Mrs William ( Parsley) Mure, London [ Cecily Mure, Buckingham Palace Mews]. Undated. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Valerie was very observant of the clothes people wore to garden in, and the attire worn by gardeners is a recurrent theme in her work.  This photograph shows Cecily Mure, watering her alpine trough in the front garden of Buckingham Palace Mews, dressed as if she is about to go out to a party. Valerie seems to have relished recording anyone who was dressed inappropriately for the garden task they were performing.

Colour photograph of Rhoda, Lady Birley (1900-1981), undated. Married to society painter Oswald Birley, Rhoda maintained the gardens of Charleston Manor Sussex and in 1935 set up a Summer festival in the grounds, which continues to this day. Valerie Finnis / RHS Lindley Collections

Continuing the theme of gardening clothes, this striking portrait shows Lady Rhoda Birley, apparently working in a long border in her garden at Charleston Manor, in Sussex.  The clashing colours of her gardening costume, the border flowers and the red handles of her loppers creates a dilemma for the viewer.  Are we looking at the epitome of good taste, or something else?

Garden People Valerie Finnis and The Golden Age of Gardening (Thames & Hudson 2007)

‘For years plants used to be more important than people to me.  But really it’s only people that matter.’

After Valerie’s death in 2006, her friends felt it was important to make a record of her life and her photographic legacy.  The main text is written by Ursula Buchan, and the photographer Howard Sooley was involved in the selection of Valerie’s photographs – around 200 are used in the book.  Brent Elliott contributed profiles of some of the horticulturalists known by Valerie, which reads like a ‘Who’s Who’ of gardening in the 1970s and 80s.

It’s well worth tracking down a copy of Garden People, to see further examples of Valerie’s photographic work and discover more about her life and career. Although it’s out of print, it’s still quite easy to find second hand copies. Valerie’s original way of recording alpine gardening as a cultural activity, her confident use of colour, and her success as a plant photographer, give her work a highly distinctive voice – beyond the world of gardening.

Special thanks to Catlin Langford (Curatorial Fellow) and Ella Ravilious (Curator) at the V&A for the opportunity to participate in Colour Fever, to Sarah McDonald at the RHS Lindley Library and to Valerie’s friends Brent Elliott and photographer Sue Snell for taking the time to speak to me about her work.

Further reading:

Valerie Finnis (1924 – 2006) Wikipedia here

RHS Lindley Library here

The Alpine Garden Society here

John Parkinson’s Autumn Fruits

1. The true Service tree 2. The ordinary Service tree 3. The common Medlar tree 4. The Medlar of Naples 5. The Nettle tree 6. The Pishamin or Virginia Plumme 7. The Cornell Cherry tree  From Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris by John Parkinson (Getty Research Institute)

It’s astonishing to see, in the section devoted to the orchard in John Parkinson’s horticultural reference book Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris (1629), the wide range of fruits available in England in the early 17th century.  Some of these, such as apples, pears, plums and even quinces are familiar to us – but others like Cornelian cherries, medlars and service berries are no longer grown so widely, or seen for sale today.

Alongside his notes about cultivation, Parkinson also records how these fruits were prepared and processed both for use in the kitchen, and for medical purposes.  As a founder member of the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries, Parkinson was well placed to advise on issues of health.  His detailed notes are a reminder of the importance of the garden as a source of medicine, as well as sustenance.

John Parkinson’s botanical garden in Long Acre, close to Covent Garden, has long since disappeared beneath modern London.  But the combination of these coloured woodcuts, mostly by the German artist Christopher Switzer, and Parkinson’s own observations about the plants he collected and grew there, brings his garden to life again.

Here follow just a few examples of ‘fruitbearing trees and shrubbes’ known to Parkinson, taken from the Getty Research Institute’s digitised version of the book with its spectacular coloured illustrations.

1. The true Service tree 2. The ordinary Service tree

Parkinson notes that two varieties of service tree, a close relation of the rowan, were considered to have berries that were edible and were cultivated in orchards.  According to Parkinson, the ‘ordinary Service tree’ was introduced by John Tradescant and bears fruits shaped ‘some round like an Apple, and in others a little longer like a Peare’.   These fruits are ‘mellowed’, like medlars, before eating:

‘They are gathered when they growe to be neare ripe (and that is never before they have felt some frosts) and being tyed together, are either hung up in some warme room, to ripen them thoroughly, that they may bee eaten or, (as some use to doe) lay them in strawe, chaffe, or branne to ripen them.’

7. The Cornell Cherry tree

The Cornelian cherry (Cornus mas), or Cornell tree as Parkinson calls it, is shown both bearing fruit and a cluster of small, yellow flowers which appear in early spring.  He records that the cherries are popular when in season, but appears not wholly convinced as to their flavour:

‘the fruit are long and round berries, with the bignesse of small Olives, with an hard round stone within them, like unto an Olive stone, and are of a yellowish red when they are ripe, of a reasonable pleasant taste, yet somewhat austere withall.’

1. The small blacke Grape 2. The great blew Grape 3. The Muscadine Grape 4. The burler Grape 5. The Raysins of the sunne Grape 6. The Figge tree 7.

These splendid bunches of grapes represent just a fraction of the varieties known to cultivation in England the early 17th century.  Parkinson records that his friend, John Tradescant has twenty varieties growing in his Lambeth garden, but cannot put a name to all of them.  As an apothecary, Parkinson mentions multiple uses for products derived from the vine in the treatment of illness, from wine, to vine leaves and raisins:

‘Wine is usually taken both for drinke and for medicine, and is often put into sawces, broths, cawdles and gellies that are given to the sicke.  Also into divers Physicall drinkes to be as a vehiculum for the properties of the ingredients.’

‘The greene leaves of the Vine are cooling and binding, and therefore good to put among other herbes that make gargles and lotions for sore mouths.  And also to put into the broths and drinke of those that have hot burning feavers, or any other inflammation.’

Parkinson reports that raisins and currants were imported into England in huge quantities, to be used in cooking and eaten on their own, and that the producers of these dried fruits were amazed at how many were consumed.  He says that the evocatively named Raysins of the Sunne ‘are the best dryed grapes, next unto the Damasco, and are very wholsome to eate fasting, both to nourish, and to helpe loosen the belly.’

1. The Quince tree 2. The Portingall Quince 3. The Peare tree 4. The Winter Bon Chretien 5. The painted or striped Peare of Jerusalem 6. The Bergomot Peare 7. The Summer Bon Chretien 8. The best Warden 9. The pound Peare 10. The Windsor Peare 11. The Gratiola Peare 12. The Gilloflower Peare

Today, we enjoy the smell of quinces and it’s noted how the perfume from one fruit can fill a room.  Parkinson also remarks on this feature of the quince, but interestingly the ‘strong heady sent’ he records is considered ‘not wholsome, or long to be endured’.  However, he reveals great enthusiasm for the quince as a culinary ingredient which is eaten raw when ripe, pickled all year round, baked as a ‘dainty dish’ and preserved as ‘Marmilade, Jelly and Paste’.  He also records quinces preserved in sugar which were given as gifts:

‘.. being preserved whole in Sugar, either white or red, serve likewise, not onley as an after dish to close up the stomacke, but is placed among other Preserves by Ladies and Gentlewomen, and bestowed on their friends to entertain them, and among other sorts of Preserves at Banquets.’

At his time of writing, Parkinson records six types of quince grown in England – but the varieties of pear far exceed this.  As ever, in this period, there is an overlap between the nutritional and medical value of both quinces and pears, which Parkinson says are the only two fruits that should be eaten by people who are unwell:

‘And indeede, the Quince and the Warden are the two onely fruits are permitted to the sicke, to eate at any time.’

As well as being eaten fresh, pears were dried, baked and roasted, and the juice of ‘choke pears’ which were too bitter to eat, made into perry.

In the final pages of his book, a useful index matches medical symptoms with plant remedies, and supplies other information, such as recipes for making colour dyes and keeping garments free from moths.

There’s a link to Parkinson’s text below – a treasure trove for anyone interested in the uses of plants, and the systems of medical beliefs in 17th century England.

A Table of the Vertues and Properties of the Hearbes contained in this Booke

Further reading:

Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris, or, A garden of all sorts of pleasant flowers: which our English ayre will permitt to be noursed up: with a kitchen garden of all manner of herbes, rootes & fruites for meate or sauce used with us; and, an orchard of all sorte of fruitbearing trees and shrubbes fit for our land; together with the right orderinge, planting and preserving of them and their uses and vertues (1629) John Parkinson
– digital version from Getty Resarch Institute here

John Parkinson on Wikipedia here

An American Harvest

‘Farm, harvesting vegetables’ – a series of glass negatives from the Harris & Ewing Collection at the Library of Congress

It can be a dangerous moment for a photograph when no one can remember the identity of the people depicted in it or the place it was taken.  When the context is lost, its value and significance become eroded, with a real possibility that one day it might be thrown away.

Fortunately, these atmospheric photographs showing individuals and families harvesting vegetables have been preserved, even though they have become disconnected from their history.  Details of names, location, and a precise date for the photographs are now lost, but they remain a luminous record of a community and a glimpse into their way of life that existed in America approximately one hundred years ago, that might otherwise be forgotten.

Thought to date between 1915 – 1923, the photographs are the work of an un-named photographer from the Harris & Ewing photographic studio, whose archive is now held in the Library of Congress.  Founded in 1905 by George W Harris and Martha Ewing and based in Washington DC, the company supplied newspapers with portraits of well-known people to illustrate their stories – but sometimes ventured out of the confines of the studio to document events of interest.

The collective title devised by library staff for these photographs is ‘Farm, harvesting vegetables’, and it’s unclear if the harvesters are collecting vegetables as workers employed on a farm, or for their own use.  It’s interesting to see that, unlike today, the baskets, boxes and cloth sacks they are using are all made out of natural materials rather than plastic.

The harvesters in the Harris & Ewing photographs appear reticent in front of the camera, perhaps unused to, and uncomfortable with, the attention.  A girl with a large bow in her hair helps with the tomato harvest by placing the large, glossy fruits carefully into a basket, but cannot find the courage to look directly at the photographer, while her mother looks rather guarded at the intrusion into their quiet activity.

Others seem happier to co-operate – two men, both wearing ties, pose with a large basket piled high with squash and a young man empties a basket of beans into a wooden box attached to his bicycle.

These dignified people look as though their origins were once in Europe – but as they live their lives in a new country, adopting its clothes, and gathering its crops of sweetcorn, squash and beans, they have been transformed into Americans.

Family group gathering corn cobs and tomatoes

A man in a straw hat holds an aubergine as he inspects his harvest

Two girls, possibly twins, fill a basket with tomatoes while behind them an man harvests corn cobs

Young man filling a wooden box attached to his bicycle with beans

A man with a pipe carries his harvest along a road

Further reading:

The Harris & Ewing Collection at the Library of Congress here

Harris & Ewing Photographic Studio Wikipedia entry here

July at Perch Hill

Last week I ventured out of London with some gardening friends for an open day at Perch Hill, the home of Sarah Raven’s garden company.  Established in 1999, the company began by supplying flower and vegetable seeds, each variety having first been tested for quality in Sarah Raven’s own garden, and providing courses about growing cut flowers and food crops.

Soon bulbs were added to the seed list, and by the early 2000s the twice yearly catalogues were like a breath of fresh country air, with their modern design, beautiful colour photography (by Johnathan Buckley,) and aspirational lifestyle.  As well as the original seeds and bulbs, today the company offers a vast range of bedding plants, perennials, climbers and roses – all carefully curated and chosen for their vibrant colours and long life in the vase.

Here’s a reminder of how the catalogues used to look:

Entering the famous cutting garden from an adjacent field acting as a car park for the day, we passed through a gap in a hawthorn hedge into a blaze of colour.  Here, a profusion of cosmos, tagetes, gaillardia, eryngium, and gladiolus in vibrant reds, oranges and purples are being trialled (alongside countless other flowers from the catalogue), while next to the hedge surrounding the garden, blue and purple phlox seemed to glow in the semi-shade.

Wandering at leisure around the garden, as well as planting ideas there are plenty of design tips to take away, many of which could be scaled down in a smaller space.  The conical outline of the oast house roof is repeated in the neighbouring Oast garden with several enormous wigwam structures, some supporting clematis ‘Julia Correvon’ with its rich, wine coloured flowers – a reminder how important verticals are in the garden.  These structures supply height all year round without casting much shade, as the canopy of a tree or large shrub would.

Elsewhere in the garden some simple ironwork structures left free of any climbing plants provide effective focal points in the densely planted cottage garden style borders.

Next to the house, a small tree, simple brick paving, a collection of good sized planted pots and a wooden chair make for an inviting place to sit, which could be translated into a much smaller space very effectively.

A perfect drying day ..

Perch Hill is close to some well-known gardens and some of the planting seems to reflect this – the English cottage garden style recalls Sissinghurst, while plants like this extraordinary sanguisorba (see below) echo the exuberant perennial planting at Great Dixter.  I like the way these places seem to be engaged in an exchange of ideas – a planting conversation.

When we visited, these dahlias were just starting to come into flower.  This beautiful rustic wooden fence has weathered to a lovely silvery grey colour.

Roses are a relatively new introduction to the Sarah Raven catalogue, and a welcome one, as it’s always interesting to note which varieties she selects.  Despite an invasion by the local deer, there were still some flowers to see in the rose trial garden.  One of the orange roses (see below) shows an unusual hint of brown, and in the current catalogue some of the roses share these sepia tones.  I imagine these roses would associate well with other contrasting colours, perhaps linking bright pinks and reds.

If you look closely at the next photograph, you’ll see two women in straw hats examining the flowers – it was that kind of place, that kind of day.

Thanks to Louise O’Reilly for organising this enjoyable outing.

There are more open days on 5th and 6th August – Sarah Raven website here