Exotica in Monaco

Dramatically positioned on a high cliff overlooking Monte Carlo and the port of Fontvielle, the Jardin Exotique de Monaco (Exotic Garden of Monaco) must be one of the most well sighted gardens in Europe. As well as stunning views over the small principality, the garden also has sweeping vistas along the French Mediterranean coast towards Italy in the east.

Looking up to the top of the garden

Based on a design by local engineer Louis Notari the garden was first opened to the public in 1933, and since that time it has welcomed over 21 million visitors. With current visitor numbers averaging 300,000 people a year the garden has been designed to include wide paths to allow the easy movement of the many tour groups that descend on the garden.

The royal family of Monaco on a formal visit to the garden in the 1960s

The garden includes a fine collection of cacti and succulents which are easy to see as you descend down the gardens zig-zag paths. Luckily most of the plants are well labelled or else keen gardeners (like me) may have been tempted to climb over the safety rails in search of illusive identification tags.

The view from the top

There are many fine gardens located on the Riveria and this succulent garden is well worth a visit. An entry fee is charged and there are parking stations near to the entrance.

TIP: Try and get to the garden right on opening time, lunchtime, or late in the day, that way you avoid the tour bus crowds.

Link to the garden's website http://www.jardin-exotique.mc/en/

Floral Clocks

The floral clock—once a popular garden feature—has largely escaped the attention of garden historians, but it is high time these quirky timepieces were reassessed.

1970s English comic postcard with a floral clock theme
Art work by Brian Perry for Bamforth & Co

One of the horticultural oddities of the last century is the floral clock. Most of us have encountered them from time to time during our travels, often sighted on gentle slopes in manicured public gardens at tourist destinations. Apart from a moment’s thought at the sophistication of the technology and the intricate plantings used by the designers, most of these outdoor landscapes are soon forgotten. As a working gardener I’ve had a fascination with these quirky garden features throughout much of my working life. Not only are they a reflection of the design and propagation skills of their creators but they also express the civic pride and wealth of the community in which they are located.

Floral clocks are found throughout the world but usually within temperate latitudes within societies which can afford the high cost of upkeep. Hotspots for these horologically functional novelties include North America, Europe, Australia, and New Zealand. But floral clocks of one form or another can be found in other areas of the world too—I know of examples in India, China, and Japan, and recently stumbled on one in the Cambodian capital Phnom Penh, hardly a city we connect with municipal prosperity.

While mostly associated with twentieth-century landscape design practice, floral clocks have a history that dates back to the eighteenth century (and even earlier if their horological cousin the sundial is included). The celebrated eighteenth-century Swedish naturalist Carl Linnaeus was, for example, obsessed with the possibilities of creating a botanical clock, known as a Horologe or Watch of Flora, made up of 46 different flowering plants which opened and closed as the day progressed, thus informing the viewer of the time of day.

The Swedish botanist Linnaeus proposed the
 idea for a clock made out of living plants

image from author's postcard collection

Linnaeus’s plan seems solely an intellectual fancy restricted to observations of the habits of individual plants, and to the best of our knowledge his clock was never constructed. Despite this, his research in Uppsala found a reflective audience over the following decades and ‘dial plants’ were sometimes grown in botanical collections. The early nineteenth-century British gardening authority J.C. Loudon, for instance, listed a number of dial plants suitable for the purpose in his influential Encyclopaedia of Gardening (1822).

During the nineteenth century, floral or carpet bedding became increasingly popular and gardeners experimented in constructing intricate designs combining brightly coloured plants sourced from around the world. Reflecting the tastes of the time, gardeners tried to make plants look like something else. While many such bedding designs were laid out in private gardens the increasing establishment of public parks saw these skills transferred into a civic setting.

While carpet bedding began to loose popularity in the late nineteenth century there was clearly an interest to use the skills learnt in ‘bedding-out’ in a new modern way. Reflecting the advances in technology it is not surprising that someone would eventually build an outdoor clock decorated with living plants, with the time being articulated by machine (clock hands) rather than by the plants themselves.

The earliest known example of a floral clock was the l’horloge fleurie created by a French horticulturist named Debert in the Trocadéro gardens in Paris (1892). Not long after, another was constructed across the Atlantic at Water Works Park, Detroit (1893) and a decade later the still-extant clock at West Princes Street Gardens, Edinburgh (1903). Another significant early example was the giant clock created for the 1904 World’s Fair in St Louis, Missouri. Other early floral clocks were also constructed in Le Mans, Interlaken, and Budapest as well as elsewhere in Europe.

After the first wave of interest in floral clocks some of these were abandoned due to the upheavals of the Great War, but during the 1920s and 1930s interest in the concept returned. With the increasing popularity of the motor car many towns constructed floral clocks as tourist attractions and many new floral clocks were constructed in English coastal towns.

Edinburgh's famous floral clock in 1958

Floral clocks came on the scene at the same time as the fashion for postcard collecting so it comes as no surprise that these gardens would become a popular subject. Thanks to the popularity of postcard collecting we have a record of nearly all of them, and as plantings changed each year these postcard views offer a revealing record of changing design approaches. The best-known example of this chronological record is of the Edinburgh floral clock, photographed by postcard sellers most years since 1903. Designs used for this high-profile example have celebrated royal celebrations and civic achievements as well as anniversaries of significant local worthies.

The first floral clock in Australia was built in Sydney’s Taronga Zoo in 1928 and since that time it has been a popular landmark destination. In 1930 a clock was built at the Royal Agricultural Showground in Melbourne. This example was constructed at the height of the Great Depression and the mechanism was made out of scrap parts, a thrifty showpiece which was a popular curio at the showground for many years. Following the construction of the large clock in Melbourne’s King’s Domain, however, the Showground dial lost its uniqueness and was later removed.

The former floral clock at the Melbourne Show Ground

As someone who has planted out formal annual beds I am in awe of the skill of the gardeners who plant-out the dials of these clocks. While some modern dials are decorated with mass plantings and coloured gravels, the true floral clock is decorated with thousands of tiny individual plants that have been raised from seed prior to planting out.

Many of the locations of the early clocks were found in temperate climates with cold winters. Therefore the annual planting-out of the dial face only occurred in spring, after the end of the cold weather, as many of the plants were frost tender. Plant selection was important but with the large range of plants imported from around the world designers have had a large range of plants from which to choose.

Succulents are a popular choice in many floral clock planting schemes. Hardy sedum and sempervivum are desirable as they are easy to propagate, diminutive in size, and come in a large range of colours. Less hardy choices include the larger-sized echeveria and agave. While there are many suitable non-succulent plants, popular choices include alternanthera, lobelia, alyssum, senecio, coleus, iberis, feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium), and salvia.

While most landscape themes have been well studied it is slightly surprising that garden historians have written little about these highly distinctive, much viewed landscapes. It is hard to explain such historical neglect as carpet bedding has been well documented and analysed. But perhaps these quirky landscapes have been perceived in some quarters as a form of horticultural kitsch, reflective of an earlier artistic aesthetic. But like the recent interest in garden gnomes—now sanctioned by Chelsea Flower Show—there is hope for a revival of interest in these intricate, technologically inspired, floral landscapes.

Listen to Silas Clifford-Smith talking about floral clocks with Michael Williams on ABC Radio National's Blue Print for Living programme (aired on 5th March 2016) http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/blueprintforliving/the-folly-of-the-floral-clock/7210984

This article was first published as 'Floral Clocks: Civic Pride of Horticultural Kitsch' in the July-September 2014 issue of Australian Garden History (the journal of the Australian Garden History Society). This issue is available online at the AGHS website.

Garden Craftsmanship in Yew and Box

One of the treasures of my library is a 1925 book on hedge making originally owned by my maternal grandfather. Garden Craftsmanship in Yew and Box by Nathaniel Lloyd (1867-1933) is a how-to manual for the construction and maintainence of formal hedges and topiary. Formal hedges made of european yew (Taxus baccata) and Box (Buxus spp) became fashionable in late 19th century grand British gardens and Lloyd's book reflects their popularity in the following century. While the text is minimal the book includes a series of instructive photographic images showing how to maintain the formality of the planting.

An instrument for determining the batter of a hedge
photo from Garden Craftsmanship in Yew and Box 

Nathanial Lloyd based his garden advise on the hedges he laid out at his Great Dixter home in East Sussex, England, after he purchased the Tudor-era property in 1910. Many years later Great Dixter became world famous as the stunning garden of Nathaniel's youngest son, the provocative garden writer, Christopher Lloyd (1921-2006). While the gardens originally laid out by Lloyd senior have evolved into a landscape dominated by flowering plants, many of the original hedge and topiary plantings from his time survive giving the current garden structure.

Testing level of old hedge top with a short batten and spirit level
photo from Garden Craftsmanship in Yew and Box 

Not everyone appreciated Lloyd's book at the time of its publication. One harsh critic was the garden writer William Robinson (1838-1935) who described the work as 'the poorest book that so far has disgraced the garden'. Robinson, a vocal advocate of wild or natural looking gardens despised the geometric formality that Lloyd's monograph advocated. Despite this criticism, Garden Craftsmanship in Yew and Box gives valuable textbook advice to gardeners keen to have neat well grown hedges.

The Great Dixter house and garden as it is today
photo courtesy Great Dixter Charitable Trust

Whether we like it or not hedges can be important elements in gardens. They can help delineate a landscape, provide privacy, and protect the house and garden from wild weather. The happy balance of Nathanial Lloyd's design formality and the looseness and spontaneity of his son Christopher has made Great Dixter one of the worlds great gardens. http://www.greatdixter.co.uk/

In future posts I hope to write more about hedges, topiary, Christopher Lloyd and the garden at Great Dixter.



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What I do (... a gardener's life for me)

My name is Silas Clifford-Smith and I have been working as a horticulturist in the Sydney region for over 22 years. During the 1990s I was the Senior Horticulturist at Admiralty House (the Sydney residence of the Governor-General of Australia). Subsequently, I was employed as Head Gardener for the National Trust in New South Wales.

The grounds of Admiralty House
next to beautiful Sydney Harbour

While working for the National Trust I looked after several of their gardens including Springwood (the Norman Lindsay Gallery & Museum) and Experiment Farm Cottage. While with the National Trust I also acted as an adviser on many of their other regional gardens, including Everglades. As well as many private commissions I have also worked for the Historic Houses Trust at Vaucluse House, Rouse Hill and Elizabeth Farm.

Silas working on the restoration of the
Lewers Bequest garden in western Sydney

In recent years I have been working mainly in private practice around Sydney. Projects include one-off major restorations as well as regular maintenance of new and established gardens. I also work as a landscape consultant advising garden owners on planting plans, maintenance programmes and advice on heritage matters. As well as this, I also prepare land title searches for council development applications. My qualifications include an Associate Diploma in Horticulture from Ryde College of TAFE as well as a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Sydney.

Silas was co-author of Interwar Gardens 
published by the National Trust in 2003

I occasionally lecture on garden and heritage related matters and have written widely for a broad range of publications. I wrote Percy Lindsay: artist and bohemian (2011), and co-authored Interwar Gardens (2003) and contributed a series of entries to the Oxford Companion to Australian Gardens (2002).

Regular maintenance is essential
if you want a pretty garden

I don't advertise and rely solely on word-of-mouth from current and past clients. If you would like to make contact please e-mail me at the following address (please note I have altered the format to prevent spamming of this site).  silas[dot]cliffordsmith[at]gmail[dot]com

Glamour and Grit

On Saturday 21st July 2012 there will be a study day in Sydney on the history of the plant nursery trade  during the first half of the last century.

The Australian Garden Lover was one of many
magazine titles  that sprung up during the interwar years

The event, formally titled as Glamour and Grit - New Stories for Garden History, will be held at The Mint, 10 Macquarie Street, Sydney and will run from 10am- 4pm. Speakers include Silas Clifford-Smith (on Sydney's lost nurseries), Megan Martin (on WW2: The Commonwealth Vegetable Seeds Committee, and Anderson & Co), Chris and Charlotte Webb (Berrima Bridge Nurseries), Colleen Morris (on Paul Sorensen before WW2), Stuart Read (on Max Shelley and Jocelyn Brown) and Michael Lech (on Wunderlich's garden ornaments). This event is organised by the Historic Houses Trust in collaboration with the Australian Garden History Society and coincides with The Garden of Ideas, a national travelling exhibition at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Sydney.

Several of the speakers at the study day
contributed to the National Trust's 2003
guide on the history of New South Wales
gardening styles between the wars

More information and bookings can be found at the Historic Houses Trust website:
http://www.hht.net.au/whats_on/event/members_events/2012/july/glamour_and_grit_new_stories_for_garden_history

Gnome lover

The first garden I truly admired was a gnomery I saw in the early 1960s. As a little boy I was awestruck by the hundreds, literately hundreds, of brightly coloured little figures looking at me behind one Welsh gnome-garden fence.  Perhaps this early memory left me with a lasting affection for these fun-loving ornaments as I have since acquired several examples which populace parts of my house and garden. My interest led me to writing a brief history of the gnome for the Oxford Companion to Australian Gardens in 2002. There have been many, so called, jocular studies of these ornaments so I was pleased to discover a serious work by the respected English garden historian Twigs Way, titled Garden Gnomes: a History. 

A Sydney gnome garden

As well as looking at the mythic origins of the gnome the author discusses the different manufacturers in Britain and around the world. One of the leading makers in the UK was Major Garden Ornaments, a firm founded by the parents of former 1980s British Prime Minister John Major, which was in operation from 1930 until 1962. These were the boom years of gnome sales, which reached its peak after the release of the 1937 Disney film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. 

The author of this blog with
 one of his larger garden companions

By the late 1960s the gnome was perceived as vulgar and 'low-rent' and became a symbol of derision. In recent years cement constructed figures have been partially replaced by cheaper plastic constructed versions, and there has been a nostalgic revival of appreciation for these fun, somewhat kitsch, ornaments. Despite this, the Royal Horticultural Society in Britain maintains a long-standing ban on the gnome being exhibited at the Chelsea Flower Show.

One of my more refined gnomes
 which dates from the late 19th century

Appropriately for the subject of Twig Way's book this work is diminutively sized. It is also well-illustrated and gives an excellent overview of the history of gnomes from their mythic origins in Germanic folklore through their early high-quality production years up to the time of mass-sales in the twentieth century. This book is a must have for all garden historians and for all those with a true interest in garden ornamentation. 

Garden gnomes:  a history, by Twigs Way, Shire Books, Oxford, 2009, UK, RRP £5.99, ISBN 978-0-7478-0710-0

An arresting image

Several months ago I came across an unusual etching of a street scene in an antique market.  Divorced of any cars or people the main subject in the print was the power lines and the mature hoop pines growing at the edge of a park. The work was untitled but was signed Christine A. Pecket and dated [19]35. I didn't buy the work at the time, but regreted not doing so as soon as I left the building.

Etching by Christine A. Pecket

Luckly two months later the etching was still for sale on my next visit to the market. The image was too striking to ignore, so, this time, I purchased the work. Captivated by the unusual composition I immediately wanted to learn about its creator. I soon discovered that Ms Pecket was not mentioned in the New McCulloch's Encyclopedia of Australian Art (the standard general reference on Australian artists) or Heritage: The National Women's Art Book (the main reference for Australian female artists).

The signature had a clumsy youthful feel as if written by a hand not used to writing her name. Perhaps Christine Pecket was a school girl when she made the etching, this might explain the absence of a title and edition numbers. Despite the crude signature the image was most arresting and deserved further enquiry.

Despite the lack of knowledge in the standard art history references, I soon discovered that there were a few interesting paintings by her as well as some pieces of pottery illustrated on the internet. I also discovered that she had written an autobiography in the 1970s. Further research on some on-line sites revealed that she had lived for many years in Sydney, close to where I live.

While the previously mentioned reference books were unforthcoming I next turned to the Design & Art Australia Online (DAAO), an excellent free-access website managed by the University of New South Wales. This site has the ambitious goal of documenting every artist who is working or has worked in Australia. So far about 8,000 artists have been documented and I am pleased to have been involved with the project since its launch in 2007.

Christine Pecket's autobiography, Some Facets of My Life, tells of her battles recovering from polio when she was a girl and how she battled with her severe disabilities during her lifetime. Despite being forced to labour in many unglamorous jobs she worked as an artist for over forty years. At the end of her book there are a number of her images reproduced including the street image illustrated above.

For the record, in her book, the illustrated etching is titled 'Ormond Street, Ashfield' and shows the street where she lived during the 1930s when she was studying art in Sydney. The park in Pecket's etching is Ashfield Park, and this fine Victorian-era reserve still has many fine examples of hoop pines (Araucaria cunninghamii) as well as circular beds of canna lilies.

The distinctive shape of the hoop pine

Intriged by Christine Pecket my research into her creative life continues. Hopefully my biography will appear on the DAAO website in the next couple of months.  http://www.daao.org.au/ In the meantime if anyone has any information about her or has examples of her work I would love to here from them.

Eryldene

I’m often asked for suggestions for gardens worth visiting for horticultural and design inspiration. One of my favourites is ‘Eryldene’ in the northern Sydney suburb of Gordon and it is often open at weekends at this time of the year.

The front garden at Eryldene

Eryldene is the former home of linguist and garden designer Professor E G Waterhouse (1881-1977). The house dates from 1913-14 and was designed by the eccentric architect William Hardy Wilson. The semi-formal front garden is a fine example of an interwar garden, and was meant to be seen from the street.  The mixed plantings of perennials, shrubs, lawn and trees sympathise well with the symmetrical design and colouring of the main house. The front garden is dominated by a large jacaranda, a tree often planted in gardens designed by Waterhouse, such as the still extant specimen he planted in the Main Quadrangle at the University of Sydney in the 1920s.

While the front garden at Eryldene contains a diverse palette of plants most of the garden is dominated by camellias. This genus was one of Waterhouse’s great loves and he propagated most of the plants in the garden. Waterhouse’s fascination with camellias saw him establish the Camellia Grove Nursery at St Ives in 1939 which helped the shrub regain popularity. The professor later became the first president of the International Camellia Society and was awarded the prestigious Veitch Gold Medal by the Royal Horticultural Society in 1966.

The Hardy Wilson designed Tea House

Both Waterhouse and Hardy Wilson were fascinated with China and one of the delights of the back garden is the Chinese influenced Tea House built in 1927. The garden is often open to the public during the weekends, especially when the Camellias are in flower as they are during winter time.

Eyldene, 17 McIntosh Street, Gordon (nearest train station Gordon)

http://www.eryldene.org.au/