A Texas shoe story as told by Ronald Rael (Prada Marfa)

rac·on·teur
/ˌrakˌänˈtər/
Noun
A person who tells anecdotes in a skillful and amusing way.
Synonyms
narrator – storyteller



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Way back in January I breezily announced “ambitious plans to produce transcripts of the lectures” given by the illustrious group of artists and scientists who participated in the “Natural Discourse” symposium hosted by the University of California Botanical Garden at Berkeley, curated by artists Shirley Watts and Mary Ann Friel. In the interim I’ve learned that verbatim transcripts are lifeless things, so I’ve been trying to carve off small segments of the lectures that can most clearly be supported by whatever photos I have or can easily find. (The first in this contemplated series was “cochineal.”)

To set the stage for an excerpt from the lecture by Ronald Rael, of Rael San Fratello Architects, first a few photos of the source of inspiration and instigator of this natural discourse, the botanical garden itself.


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The yuccas dotted throughout the botanical garden are major characters in our story.

As I wrote here, much to the surprise of all involved, the work that Rael San Fratello Architects created for Natural Discourse, (using discarded photovoltaic tubes engineered by the bankrupt solar energy company Solyndra), was the unlikely fuel for a media firestorm that was enthusiastically fanned into partisan flames by local and national media.

Mr. Rael addresses the Solyndra controversy later in the lecture. For now, the following is an excerpt on Prada Marfa from the presentation by Mr. Rael on January 11, 2013, entitled “Material Provenance.” Just as with the Solyndra/Sol House project, Prada Marfa took a series of unforeseen and bizarre twists and turns.

My name is Ronald Rael. My partner’s name is Virginia San Fratello. I teach at Berkeley and she teaches at San Jose.
And one thing that we discovered when working here is that one of the fundamental ideas behind the garden itself is that all of the plants have this kind of provenance as well. Each of these little name tags tells where the plant came from and what date. So as you walk around the garden, you realize that these plants, they just don’t exist here. They have a story behind them. And that story is what we think is incredibly meaningful. And it’s the story today that I want to tell you about in a handful of projects.


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Image found here


The first project I want to talk to you about is called Prada Marfa. It’s a project that we did in 2004. When we started this project, I actually didn’t know what Prada was. I knew what Prada was, but I didn’t really know what Prada was. And I don’t know if all of you know about Marfa, but Marfa is a small town in the West Texas desert that was made famous partly by artist Donald Judd, a minimalist artist.

“When we began working on this project, another thing that I discovered about the region is that there was a traditional shoe made out of the yucca plant. And the yucca thrives in this environment, in the West Texas desert, but that tradition of making these kinds of shoes doesn’t really exist anymore. But what exists is a kind of culture of people moving across the desert, traveling north in search of a better life. And we built this project about 20 miles from the U.S./Mexico border. And so during construction, we often saw helicopters pick up people traveling in the desert. And one thing that we learned is that, people traveling in the desert, shoes wear out after traveling hundreds of miles, and they stuff their shoes with yucca plants. And so there was this strange juxtaposition between the wealth that existed in the region, the poverty that existed in the region, the disappearing traditions, and they all came together at this weird border between these two worlds.


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And so the project is partly based on a very famous photograph by Andreas Gursky called “Prada.”

“So when we constructed this Prada, we said, well, the traditional building material in the region is mud, and so let’s construct this version of Prada out of mud to kind of heighten this kind of juxtaposition between these two worlds. So we fashioned this installation of a fake Prada store in the middle of the desert, which is one of the most expensive clothiers in the world, out of one of the most inexpensive and humble materials.


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And the construction of the mud, we didn’t put it in a mud mortar, but we actually based it in a cement mortar. And this was something that Donald Judd used. And, again, it’s a juxtaposition between the industrial and the non-industrial worlds, conflating it at this very moment, with the idea that in time the building would erode and expose these kinds of juxtapositions even in its decay.

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So this is the building, and it holds a 2005 line of purses and shoes. And even in its construction, these kinds of dichotomies were present in the workers that would come from Ojinaga, Mexico, to build the project and then in the photo shoots of the professional photographers that chose this particular person in Boyd Elder, who is a fifth-generation rancher, who lives closer than anybody else to the Prada Marfa store.

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But even Boyd had an amazing provenance. What we learned about Boyd is that in the 1960s he left his family ranch to go to LA to be an artist and hang out with the Eagles, and he’s the painter for the original Eagles’ covers. And so it’s the provenance of stories that makes projects interesting.

“So the New York Times wrote a quote from one of the funders of the project, Yvonne Force: ‘We loved this proposal for many reasons. We loved the idea of the piece being born on Oct. 1 and that it will never again be maintained. If someone spray-paints graffiti or a cowboy decides to use it as target practice or maybe a mouse or a muskrat makes a home in it, 50 years from now it will be a ruin that is a reflection of the time it was made.’


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“And so there was this idea that we just let it go. We had this grand party in the middle of the desert. A band came and played. There was wine, cheese. Even members of Prada Foundation flew in to see this.

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image found here


And the next morning we all woke up, and someone had tied a chain to the front of the facade, pulled off the facade, and spray-painted “dumb” and all these things on it. It immediately went into preservation mode. And people now today peel-out on it and shoot it and do all sorts of strange things, but immediately it’s been fixed again in kind of this perfect state. So, again, there’s this irony between the intentions of the work and what actually happens to the work.

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image found here


Another amazing thing that’s happened to the work is it’s become a shrine for left-over shoes. And it’s so far away from anything, but when people are driving out there they decide to leave their shoes as some sort of effigy on the project. And so they are also cleaning up hundreds of shoes constantly on the project. Boyd Elder, the cowboy, he’s the official caretaker of the project. And so today it’s perfectly preserved.

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This is the most recent photo, with Beyonce jumping in front of it, and it’s become kind of an icon in the middle of the desert, whose image we can’t let go of.”

Posted in artists, design, garden visit, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

InterCity Succulent Show and Sale August 17-18, 2013

Mr. Ripple and friends cordially invite you to that holy of holies in the world of desert plants, The InterCity Show and Sale next weekend, August 17 and 18, at the Los Angeles County Arboretum.

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Agave ‘Mr. Ripple’

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Agave potatorum in the loveliest shade of powder blue, found at a plant show unlabeled

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Aloe marlothii

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Mangave ‘Bloodspot’

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the white whale of agaves, A. celsii var. albicans ‘UCB’

Now that succulents are as ubiquitous as petunias and can be found on racks outside grocery stores, there’s no need for proselytizing about their sculptural attractions and water-wise virtues. This sale is for the already converted who are looking for rarities in affordably small sizes. The discerning eye and encyclopedic knowledge of members of Southern California succulent societies have already done the heavy lifting for us in seeking out the best of the best, and these plants offered for sale are the fruit of their lifelong passion for desert plants. But if you’re still not convinced, drop your magazine, possibly turned to a regionally inappropriate article on the top 10 plants for perennial borders in August (though there’s nothing wrong with a little garden porn!) and come see why Southern California is the envy of savvy plant people all over the world. Like the bodies on Venice’s Muscle Beach, these are some seriously well-toned plants, each one an evolutionary warrior able to survive with minimal irrigation. I’m hoping to find more of my latest enthusiasm, hanging epiphytic cactus like rhipsalis.

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, plant nurseries, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

gilding the jasmine

Plant Delight’s 2013 fall catalogue has just been released and offers this gold-leaved jasmine, Jasminum officinalis ‘Frojas’ (Fiona Sunrise Jasmine) that I’ve been tormenting for a couple years.
Mr. Avent suggests pairing it with colorful shrubs like loropetalum or smoke bush/cotinus. Plant fanatics are always on the lookout for a two-fer. Got a shrub? Grow a vine through it! Or two or three!


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My bright idea was to make its tendrils twine under and through the purply-blue flounces of Melianthus ‘Purple Haze.’ The jasmine valiantly struggled to realize my vision but finally gave up exhausted. Right before its last gasp is when I remembered where I planted it and found it diminished, nearly dead in dry, dry soil, reduced to just a few leaves. I dug up what little there was and potted it up.
I really did happen to have an empty blue pot available at the time.

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I’m just amazed it held on as long as it did, and that it had the reserves to come roaring back to life. Maybe in the wet and humid South they can play fast and loose, combining vines with shrubs. But in gardens with no summer rain, whose caretakers are not always the most observant and/or liberal with supplemental irrigation (clearing throat)…I say this beautiful vine can stand on its own considerable merits. The golden jasmine doesn’t need any more gilding by partnering it up with shrubs, though if your garden can support that, some wonderfully colorful friendships are definitely possible.

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After such abuse, it’s no surprise that I’ve yet to see any flowers. The new growth has a lovely peachy cast to it.

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The torment is over, and I’m making nice now, giving it a container all by its lonesome. Some arrangement of less than full-day sun seems preferable here. Zones 7 to 9.

Posted in plant nurseries, Plant Portraits | Tagged , | 1 Comment

swirly skirts and aloes

On the Xericworld forum you can expect to find some of the most technical discussions around on desert plants, but photos of a fashion shoot among aloes and agaves? That was a surprise.

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From the March 2012 issue of You Inspire. Photographer Zoltan Tombor, model Nicole Trunfio

(In other photography-related news, Gardenista ran a post today on garden designer Beth Mullins of Growsgreen Landscape Design which featured photos by occasional AGO photographer MB Maher.)

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, MB Maher, photography | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

Pennisetum ‘Princess Caroline’

I’m still debating whether to include this grass in next year’s garden, but it’s occurred to me that what I consider its vices might be virtues for someone else.

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Say you can’t grow phormiums and you want a dark-leaved one really bad. (And this NOID phormium pictured above is nowhere near as dark as it gets, such as in ‘Black Adder.’)

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The Princess might make you forget all about phormium envy.

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The leaf blades are as wide as some phormiums and fairly stiff, keeping a vase-shaped form. Grass on the left, phormium on the right.

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And because it doesn’t bloom, it retains that dark-leaved, phormium-like presence the entire summer. Seen here behind the plumes of Chloris virgata.
The above photo coincidentally brings up what are for me its vices. All the stats available on this grass list it as topping out at 3-4 feet. Here in zone 10 this is a monster of a grass. That clump, 6 feet tall by 5 feet wide, was split off from last year’s main clump and moved here last fall. Because it thickens up so fast, it needs frequent splitting.

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This division was so small and thin this spring I didn’t think it could possibly thrive. Oh, yes, it could.

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Darker than any phormium I’ve grown so far, it’s been bred not to flower, though it throws an occasional bloom here, so dark as to mostly go unnoticed.

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Hardy to zone 8. In a colder-zoned garden, maybe this kind of vigor would be a virtue, achieving good size in just one season.
Keeping it on the very dry side in my garden does nothing to inhibit its vitality.

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And if you tire of that inky blackness and want to lighten things up a bit, think of it as a disposable phormium that reaches full size in one season. Pass it on or compost.
(I’m linking this post to Loree’s favorite plant of the week on her blog Danger Garden.)

Posted in Plant Portraits | Tagged , | 15 Comments

monday clippings 8/5/13 (bromeliads and summer camp)

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It’s August and I’m craving a summer camp experience. Unfortunately, the summer camp bus left 40 years ago. So up there is my designated summer camp 2013.

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I admit accommodations are rustic and no-frills, but a short trip up the ladder rungs turns an ordinary August day into something wildly mildy adventurous. When home I probably climb the ladder loaded with armfuls of stuff to read, with or without pistachios, several times a day. It’s this summer’s preferred punctuation to extended sentences of work and errands. Often I drop the book or magazine I’m reading mid-paragraph to sit back and revel in the lofty view. At the birds cutting diagonally through the garden like it was Beggar’s Canyon. At the truly abysmal flying skills of Japanese fig beetles. At my neighbor’s peach tree, its branches loaded with fruit, some of it hanging over my side of the fence. At the cypresses in the distance, some dying, interspersed with palms lining the street south of mine. Why are the cypresses dying? I always wonder. Yesterday the clouds were arrayed in that elaborate feathering known as “fish scales” making it a “mackerel sky,” one of my very favorite skies.

Down below, behind the sliding doors is the laundry shed; up above, bliss.

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Often there’s already a camp buddy or two up there waiting.

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The breezes are freshest up here, and the views are godlike, gazing over rooftops or looking down on my little creation. Yesterday I fell asleep up here for 20 minutes or so. Hard asleep.

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What got me so dozy late yesterday afternoon was undoubtedly the sensory overload of a bromeliad show and then some nursery hopping. A large lime green pot almost became the water garden I vowed to make this summer, but I kicked that can down the road again and instead brought home Beschorneria albiflora and Colocasia ‘Blue Hawaii,’ pictured above. Managing the ecosystem of a water garden, however small, just seems too complicated for August. That’s a pretty nifty dodge I highly recommend: think up a complicated, expensive proposition, consider it carefully from all angles, wisely decide to postpone the final decision, and then reward yourself for such judicious self-control.

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The bromeliad show and sale was sponsored by South Bay Bromeliad Associates. I should have posted advance notice of the show but found out about it rather late. Shows like this are the most affordable way to acquire offsets of some very cool plants.

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Though there will always be the unattainable. Alcanterea ‘Volcano Mist’ ($150)

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An aechmea agave-like in substance and subtle coloring

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Aechmea ‘Loies Pride’

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Plenty of not-so-subtle too

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I loved the dark reds streaked with chartreuse, like the dark-thorned Aechmea nudicaulis in the center

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Exquisite dyckias

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Dyckia dawsonii

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I really gravitated to the bruised, purply bromeliads like this Hohenbergia ‘Leopoldo Hortstii,’ but prices can get scary.

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Similar coloration in Bilbergia ‘Violetta’ for $10. Deal.

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A Neoregelia concentrica hybrid

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Most of the broms are sizing up on the east side of the camp, where there’s half-day morning sun. I think Peewee the parakeet, who’s camped out in the bath house, approves of this location for them too.

Now excuse me while I pack a few more things for summer camp. (And since I’ve technically never been to a real summer camp, let me know if you have any good camp stories.)

Posted in clippings, creatures, journal, Plant Portraits | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

succulents make us do the strangest things

I had to laugh when I saw Reuben’s latest project on this post, planting the frame to an old television monitor, which I think is incredibly classy and wish he’d sell to me. (Look at those aeonium knobs!) I completely understand the impulse. Where we differ is, I suspect Reuben starts with the concept first. Most of my projects start with a desperate need to thin out overcrowded plantings.


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The mind and eye wander into the garage, the garden shed, rummaging for something, anything to contain the prodigious amount of offsets these plants produce. I don’t want every pot I own filled with thinnings of Aeonium ‘Kiwi.’ Something with a broad, shallow surface is needed to absorb their numbers — like the base to this old wrought iron table. At first I resisted, because I really wanted to make a functional table of it again, with a usable surface, but the tyranny of the procreating abilities of these plants won the argument. At least I haven’t started planting old boots…yet.


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The table was planted in early summer and was kept in light shade until strong roots formed. Prior to planting, a lot of these thinnings had been dumped into buckets, destined for the compost pile, which had the beneficial effect of drying out the ends to form a callus. Callusing is often recommended and probably the safest practice to prevent the stem from rotting away. But when the planting frenzy started, I also grabbed fresh cuttings from the garden, and these did fine as well.

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In the design equivalent of convergent evolution, the materials and method used were pretty much identical to what Reuben details in his post; stretching and affixing wire mesh hardware cloth, lining it with moss, filling in with potting soil. I moved the table into full sun just yesterday while we’re being graced with an amazing stretch of mild weather in the mid-70s. The sun will bring out the strongest coloring, but I’ll move it back into light shade when high temperatures return. Aeoniums, dark red and ‘Kiwi,’ Echeveria glauca, Sedum nussbaumerianum, Graptopetalum paraguayense. The planting depth is thinnest at the exposed table edges, which should be covered in another couple weeks as the plants enlarge and mature. The mossed screen might be 4 inches at its greatest depth.

Following Reuben’s example, I’m going to try starting with the concept first. Now I’m on the lookout for old tv monitors to accommodate an elaborate staging of the visual pun “Watching grass grow.” But I doubt I’ll have the discipline to see it through and use something as pedestrian as turf. I’d much rather plant it with a bright green screen of sedum. Or maybe I could plant the Indian Head Test Pattern in succulents? (I’m joking…I think.) But the possibilities rival the number of channels on cable. Thanks for pointing the way, Reuben.

Posted in garden ornament, pots and containers, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Occasional Daily Photo 7/25/13

I’m tying this ODP in with Loree’s favorite plant of the week thread at Danger Garden.

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Agave attenuata ‘Ray of Light’

I’ve noticed a theme to favorite plants. They’re the ones that beat zonal odds or some foolish mishandling on the gardener’s part. It’s the latter case with this agave. I moved it roughly and hurriedly, in the wrong season, because I suddenly needed it right there. The lower leaves tell that story. But the luscious new growth it’s since been putting out this summer is what makes it my favorite plant of the week. Even the anti-variegation crowd can’t possibly begrudge what slim stripes do for agaves, right?

From the San Marcos Growers website: “This plant was discovered in 2003 by Graeme John Burton of Ohaupo, New Zealand as a vegetative sport of Agave attenuata ‘Tandarra’s Tiger’ in a greenhouse in Hamilton, New Zealand. It received US Plant Patent 21,854 in April 2011.”

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, Occasional Daily Photo, plant nurseries | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

the greenhouse in Minority Report

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Every summer eventually develops its own indelible rhythms. For instance, I generally don’t like heading into the house until the last rays of light are drained from the sky. Darkness, just as in a hushed theater, is the cue here at home for the movie to begin. About 8:30ish. Instead of popcorn, the movie is accompanied by dinner. (Lately that invariably consists of something with kale in it, since my garden plot is still producing buckets of it.) After the requisite skirmish over what to watch, it’s show time. Tolerance for movie violence is a common theme when discussing a selection. I seem to have less and less. But we all love sci-fi movies. And Minority Report’s themes of the state abridging civil liberties in the interests of security are undeniably and unfortunately as relevant now as when it was released in 2002.

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This movie is a particular favorite of mine, and not just because of the incredible greenhouse scene, although that does play a big part in my affection. Samantha Morton, Max Von Sydow, Colin Farrell all give riveting performances. Tom Cruise is…well, Tom Cruise. And even if that would normally put you off, this movie has so much going for it that the star’s likability factor isn’t a make-or-break proposition. His stolid performance is arguably just what this movie needs to hold the center. The cinematography by Janusz Kamiński is unspeakably lush and gorgeous. Shot on Kodak film, using the “bleach bypass” technique for any interested film geeks. These scenes in the greenhouse are almost a gothic, over-the-top contrast to the film’s denatured vision of the future.

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Gathering these screen shots, I was impressed with the complexity of filming the greenhouse scene, with the actors hitting their marks among hanging plants, waist-high tables and benches overflowing with more potted plants, the camera dipping into deep blue shadows at one end of the greenhouse and piercing sunbursts at the other. Kaminski and Spielberg really capture the wonderful choreography of light found in all greenhouses. I have absolutely no need for one at all, but that doesn’t lessen my desire for a greenhouse in the least, where the fundamentals of light and warmth and the primacy of plants are on heightened display.

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The actress in these scenes is Lois Smith. Based on the short story by Philip K. Dick. Directed by Steven Spielberg, an Amblin Entertainment
and Cruise /Wagner production, distributed by 20th Century Fox DreamWorks Pictures.

Posted in Cinema Botanica | Tagged , | 9 Comments

Cross-Pollination July 2013

Garden designer Dustin Gimbel hosted another of those fabulous mid-summer rave-ups that he calls “Cross-Pollination” at his home and garden, where “hikers, nursery professionals, beekeepers, home brewers, crazy plant people, artists, architects and designers” gather for food and conversation, slipping away occasionally from the outdoor tables for periodic forays into the surrounding garden that nourishes as much as the food and conversation. A trifecta of sensory input. Think a slightly more design-centric Roman bacchanalia and you’ve got the basic idea. (And in case there’s any doubt, I fall into the “crazy plant people” category on the invitation.)

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photo by Dustin Gimbel

Maybe another attendee will post photos of the tables groaning under bowl after bowl of fresh, summery food and the friendly group that assembled to partake of the potlucked largesse.* This will be my typically monomaniacal plant reportage. For me one of the stars of the party was the Aristolochia gigantea vine in full, jaw-dropping bloom against the mauve wall of the garage. Various parts of the human anatomy were offered up as visual analogies for these bizarre, fleshily gorgeous flowers. (A non-profane example would be lungs.) The colors here in this corner of the back garden make up a tangily delicious concoction. The golden, feathery shrub is Coleonema pulchellum ‘Sunset Gold.’ On the left is Dodonaea viscosa. Euphorbia cotinifolia is directly behind the central variegated number, which is either a ponytail palm or a cordyline. Or something else entirely. In Dustin’s garden, always expect to be confounded and surprised.

This is Dustin’s photo and description: “Giant dutchman’s pipe (Aristolochia gigantea) is reveling in heat AND humidity. Usually if it gets hot and dry these comically large blooms get seared by the heat and often don’t even open, burnt crisp by the sun.”

A horticultural event of immense drama — but then that pretty much describes Dustin’s garden any time you visit.

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Euphorbia ‘Blackbird’ and Gomphrena ‘Fireworks’

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Gomphrena ‘Fireworks’ with Dustin’s hand-made totem towers

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Cotyledon orbiculata var. flanaganii with mattress vine

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Peachy Russellia equisetiformis and a golden Agave attenuata, possibly ‘Raea’s Gold,’ ‘Kara’s Choice’ with I think Sedum rubrotinctum.

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Dustin was way too busy hosting the soiree to be coralled into extended plant ID sessions like I normally do. So I’m hazarding that the shaggy beast in the far left container is Acacia cognata ‘Cousin Itt,’ with firesticks, Euphorbia tirucalli, and bowls of echeveria. A visit to Dustin’s garden always reminds one to go large. No itty-bitty gestures, please.

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The Acacia pendula arbor over the main diagonal path in the front garden, seen from the front porch, to which the path runs roughly parallel. The golden, glowing strip in the background lining another path to the back gate is variegated St. Augustine grass. Dustin recently pulled out assorted plants here to go for a bigger impact with this grass. A wise man, that Dustin.

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Silvery ribbons of tillandsias and Spanish moss have been tied to delicately drape from the rebar arch.

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The Acacia pendula, an Agave ‘Blue Glow’ surrounded by Frankenia thymifolia, a walkable ground cover Dustin uses to such good effect in creating quiet pools of visual rest. Possibly Leucadendron argenteum leucospermum and burgundy dyckias in the background. The privet hedges enclosing the front garden are maturing and filling in, screening the garden from the busy street.

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I have to admit I wasn’t too excited about the Gainey ceramic pots on pipes when I first saw them, but with the simplified planting underneath of Myer’s asparagus fern and variegated St. Augustine grass, I’ve become an enthusiastic convert.

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The Crested Ligularia, Farfugium japonicum ‘Crispatum,’ and an equally crested ivy, pairing the frilly with the frillier.

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Agave gypsophila and the Woolly Bush, Adenanthos sericeus. The silver trailer might be Lessingia filanginifolia is Chrysanthemoides incana.

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Bocconia and Frankenia thymifolia engulfing circular stepping stones

Thanks to Dustin, after such a magical evening one can’t help but leave feeling…well, pollinated and fertile with new-found energy and ideas. And just a little hung over the next morning.

*And Annette’s marvelous post can be read on Potted’s blog.

Posted in agaves, woody lilies, artists, garden ornament, garden visit, pots and containers, succulents | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments