I have spent decades learning, teaching and working with plants and landscapes. But I hesitate to call myself a landscape designer. My expertise is in the creation of planted ecosystems. I create plant combinations that work together to please the human eye, fill an environmental function and are relatively self-sufficient. In my experience, many of the traditional ways of combining plants require continuous input of resources.
I was reminded of this when I received an email advertising a local landscape designers’ webinar “Workhorse Plants and Design Tips for Time-Pressed and Maturing Gardeners.” (Wait, aren’t we all “Time-pressed and Maturing”?)
As an example of the type of tips she would be covering, this designer offered the following combination: Dwarf Globe Blue Spruce, Calamintha, annual Isotoma and species tulips. Let me talk about why I disagree with every one of these. On paper, all these plants sound like they should work. You have an evergreen for winter interest, bulbs for early color, perennial workhorses, and annuals for season-long color. But how do they work together in the garden? How do they relate to one another and the surrounding environment? What benefit do they offer the other inhabitants of the garden and, most importantly, what happens to them over time?
Blue Spruce (above) are native to the Rocky mountains. In the garden, Dwarf Globe Blue Spruce are often irrigated and mulched in soil that is heavily amended. All this pampering leads to a buildup of organic material under and within the compact plant, which causes it to suffer fungal problems and eventual death. Even when planted correctly, and cared for properly, combining the spruce with the perennial Calamintha (native to Europe, northern Africa and western Asia) is problematic. If planted close enough to the spruce to fill in the space, it will compete with the slower growing spruce—shading it out and restricting airflow and inviting problems.
Give the plants more space, you say? THERE SHOULD BE NO SPACE BETWEEN PLANTS IN THE GARDEN (as shown above). Nature abhors a vacuum. If you don’t put a plant in that empty space, nature will, which is pretty much the definition of a weed. The Adam Woodruff Olympic Garden shown at top is an example.
The Calamintha would have to be cut back every fall to give the spruce the space it needs for a few more years of life. The annual Isotoma is native to Australia and New Zealand and can be hardy up to Zone 6 and readily propagates from seed. If you’re going to introduce a reseeding annual, I might suggest one that is native to your region (in this case, the designer and I are both in New England). Annuals that do not reseed must be pulled out and replaced every year, costly and time-consuming.
Lastly, this designer claims that species Tulips are deer-resistant and perennial. If, by some chance she has found a pocket of garden where that is the case, then I offer her my congratulations. But for the rest of us, please, save the heartache (and bank account) and stick with Daffodils.
May I offer an alternative combination? How about Eastern Red Cedar (center), Amsonia hubrichtii (right), Black-eyed Susans and Daffodils? These combinations would play well together. The reseeding annuals function as a green mulch to suppress weeds while the slower plants fill in. If planted and spaced well, these combinations should require very minimal care and irrigation only until established. These plants will also host up to forty different pollinator species in my area, if they are not treated with pesticides.
Plants grow, change, live and die. If we want them to thrive, without constant attention or intervention, then we must look to our surroundings for instruction. Selecting plants should be nothing like decorating your house or kitchen. I believe my role as a gardener is to curate the natural menagerie. It seems to me that this is very different from the role of the landscape designer.
I always think of a landscape designer as doing the structural stuff. Paths, walls, pergolas, whatever and tying them and the house to the site. Then a plant person selects designs the right plants. Like the architect designs the house but very few of them are interior designers. Unless they are FLW.
Tibs, I totally agree. It’s a skill I don’t have. I’ll stick to the plants.
The most competent and successful landscape designers are at heart gardeners.
Jenny, I couldn’t agree more.
Amsonia hubrichtii is no more native to New England than Blue Spruce is; it just happens to perform better in garden conditions there. Calamintha is also a far more effective pollinator attractant than Rudbeckia.
That being said, I prefer the look and durability of your choices over that of the local designer, but given that some of your stated goals are “filling an environmental function” and choosing plants that “relate to one another and the surrounding environment”, I don’t necessarily see many advantages with your design in those departments.
I generally hesitate to offer suggestions such as I have given in this post because I think that the plant choices are site and client specific. I love Rudbeckia hirta not just for the pollinators it attracts but also the many species that it hosts in the larval stage (not everything that pollinates, hosts).
I’m taking that bit about no space and showing it to my husband. He thinks the folks with a few plants scattered among the mulch are doing it right and I’m doing wrong.
Alison, if he wants to work harder, pull more weeds, spread more mulch and spend more money in the long run, that’s his choice. But there really is a better way, and it sounds like you get that.
So glad I stumbled on to this blog today. Lapsed Maine Master Gardener here. I’ve proven trainable but still find myself challenged by larger visual problem solving & plant orchestration.
Allison, now that spring has finally sprung, I’m contemplating once again whether marital dissonance about golf course pond edge-worthy weed whacking, topping forsythias, and mulch displays vs ecosystems (you know I’m growing that “scrub” from seed, right?) are grounds for divorce. He can’t stand other people’s pruned mini-skirts but never met a shrub he wouldn’t decapitate.
Well, lovely to read you all.
Looking forward to a rainy weekend & following along.
From the sounds of it, you’re more of a planting designer – and sigh… many landscape designers struggle on this level. Planting design is still a relatively new discipline informed by horticulture, ecology, and artistic creativity. More of a thing in Europe than here in North America.
Yes Tony, I think you’re right. I should have been a gardener in the UK!
Love this Rant….hope to read more posts from Molly Janicki!
Thank you Sarah!
Wonderful! The designer who calls species tulips deer resistant is a designer who doesn’t have deer – or has set up great swathes of decoy Darwins for beheading, and they’re just so stuffed they can’t manage another nibble. Enjoyed this very much, but question that Eastern red cedar would be the best choice for those in small gardens. If a dwarf spruce was suggested, perhaps that was the target audience? – MW
Thanks Marianne! Yes, I agree that a small garden couldn’t support the Eastern Red Cedar. Generally, I try to avoid these types of blanket recommendations, because every site is different. But I love the image of swaths of decoy Darwins!
I like your approach to garden creation, I guess I’ll call it since, you don’t like the term design. I’ve worked as a garden designer for over two decades, and prefer that term over landscape designer, even though that’s really what I’m usually called. (Among other names we won’t go into! I’ve studied plants for even longer, as it was my love of gardening that sent me to horticulture school.
Although there are some designers that don’t have enough plant knowledge to tote around in a garden cart, many of the ones I know are very knowledgeable about plants and how to use them, native and non-native. Now landscape architects – that’s a whole ‘nother matter. They’re the ones us garden/landscape designers tease about knowing nothing about plants.
I agree with the points you’re making, though, and feel that looking at plant communities instead of individual plants, as if they are statues, is the best way to, well, yes, landscape.
It has been a challenge to expand sustainable landscape practices at a home rooted in early 2Oth C ideals where control seemed to be the key word. Combining both worlds has been quite a task. Cannot wait to see what this year brings after last summer’s work which benefitted so from your help. Great article.
Your content caught my attention. I find this to be very interesting. As a good writer, you should be wright about Landscape & Irrigation as well.