The National Arboretum’s Friendship Garden in 2014
I recently confessed to being confused by the eco-design concept of matrix planting and intermingling, design strategies that I saw in opposition to what I’d been taught and tried to follow for decades – that is, massing and planting in drifts. Fortunately, some commenters explained it clearly and now I’m less confused. In theory, anyway.
But I have more questions – about the plants used in the 2019 redesign of the National Arboretum’s Friendship Garden and how to maintain the garden. The new design replaced a famous 1989 design by the landscape architecture firm of Oehme van Sweden (OvS). It was credited with starting the New American Garden style of designing primarily with perennials. Masses of them.
The Friendship Garden/New American Garden by Oehme van Sweden
So first let’s look at the OvS design, with mostly my photos over the years, and there are more images and info here on the OvS website.
OvS design in 2014 photo.
Here’s how it’s described on the OvS page about this garden:
Conceived as residential garden prototypes, The Friendship Garden and New American Garden create a true to life landscape scenario typical of a suburban home. The purpose of these one-acre gardens is to welcome and entertain. Massings of perennials with seasonal interest surround brick walkways and terraces. While dramatic, these plantings are attuned to the nearby Arbor House’s relatively small, domestic scale. These gardens demonstrate other design principles for which OvS is known–higher plants have been placed toward the street so that it is possible to have a lavish garden between the curb and the house, reclaiming the front yard for the people who live there. To maintain a sense of place, a careful balance of deciduous and evergreen plants plays up the borrowed scenery of the National Arboretum.
Here are some of my photos of the garden in summer; sorry I don’t have photos of the other seasons.
OvS design in 2014 photo.
OvS design in 2014 photo.
Credit: James van Sweden, seen on Oehme van Sweden website.
Without a winter view, I grabbed this last one from the designer’s portfolio.
Why the change?
Friends of the National Arboretum (FONA) which is responsible for the Friendship House and its gardens, wrote about the change in their newsletter:
It is a National Garden Clubs project and began in 1989 with the intention of creating a four-season interest garden of perennials that would appeal to the average homeowner. Initially designed by landscape architects Oehme, van Sweden, it marked a new era in planting styles, deploying plants in large drifts that required little maintenance. The garden continues to be revolutionary in its current edition through Phyto Studio’s update.
And Adrian Higgins wrote in the Washington Post about the change:
I have observed this decline at many familiar gardens over the years, including a demonstration garden around the National Arboretum’s Arbor House, a ranch-style structure, formerly a house, now used as a gift shop and offices. The original garden, named the Friendship Garden, was planted in 1991. It was funded by the National Garden Clubs, which also paid for an intern to care for it. But after a decade or two, nature took its course.
Several old trees in the one-acre garden came down; some plants petered out while others spread with abandon. The worst was a leafy plant named butterbur, whose botanic name, Petasites japonicus variety giganteus , gives a clue to its ambitions. It loves boggy areas and it spreads by rhizomes. It became, by default, the dominant perennial, particularly after the trees went and the sunlight flooded in.
The new garden reflects the sunnier site conditions but also the subsequent shifts in horticultural emphasis. It is these differences that make the Friendship Garden particularly interesting.
What’s gone from Oehme’s bag of plant tricks? Invasive miscanthus grasses are out, replaced with native switchgrasses and purple moor grass. Sedum Autumn Joy has been replaced with Autumn Fire. Rudbeckia Goldsturm grew sickly (not to mention trite) and is now bettered by the more robust Rudbeckia fulgida var. deamii . Oehme loved a clumping bamboo named fargesia, but it was programmed to self-destruct. It is monocarpic: When it bloomed, it died, and no one bothered to replace it.
Scott Aker, the arboretum’s head of horticulture and education, said the new garden, like the old, is meant to inspire visitors to try new plants in their home gardens. Did the original vision hold water? “I think so,” he said. “It moved everybody beyond the landscape that was turf, bushes and bedding plants. What this garden and this movement did for perennials is truly amazing.”
Mid-March 2025.
Late April 2024
The firm selected for the redesign is Phyto Studio, today’s cutting-edge ecological and naturalistic garden design firm, and I’ve always been a fan. (West and her partner Thomas Rainer authored the much talked-about and praised book about matrix or layered planting design – Planting in a Post-Wild World.) And despite the success and popularity of the 1989 OvS plan, it makes sense that after 30 years it’s time to try something new, starting with replacing the invasives.
Signage in the garden explains the design concept of using layers:
As you look at the beds, you may notice that there are two layers of plantings. the top layer contains the tall, showy plants, with interesting flowers, seed pods and shapes. The lower layer consists of shorter, shade tolerant spreading plants. This ground cover closes the gaps between the larger plants to deny weeds the space they need to grow and to retain soil moisture.
Late May 2024
So now that we sort of understand the concept, let’s see how it looks throughout the year.
(I live 15 minutes away and go there often. For this post I photographed the Friendship Garden monthly, except when it was covered with snow.)
May 2024.
Margaret Roach described the planting scheme in her New York Times article about the Phyto Studio:
In a project for the Friendship Garden at the U.S. National Arboretum, in Washington, for example, flowering spurge (Euphorbia corollata), with its clouds of tiny, white flowers, is the high-summer star. Foxglove beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis) blooms in May, following April’s golden ragwort (Packera aurea) and Robin’s plantain (Erigeron pulchellus var. pulchellus Lynnhaven Carpet), “each species lighting up the green carpet beneath,” formed by its companion plants, Ms. West said.
Another mix there includes the nonnative autumn moor grass (Sesleria autumnalis) with tufted hairgrass (Deschampsia cespitosa), Eastern beebalm (Monarda bradburiana) and golden ragwort.
July 2024.
July 2024.
July 2024. View from front door.
July 2024.
August, 2024.
September 2024.
September 2024. R Street Entrance on the right. The building is behind the vegetation.
September 2024.
November 2024
November 2024.
February 2025.
Does it work as a front garden?
Here we arrive at the surprisingly controversial question of whether a garden, especially one in front of a residence, needs to look pretty, which let’s define as pleasing to the eye of the homeowner and (whether you like it or not) neighbors. I think that’s an important question because this garden is “meant to inspire visitors to try new plants in their home gardens,” particularly their front garden.
With apologies to my libertarian-leaning friends: If you live near other people, they’re going to be impacted by your front yard and want it to at least appear deliberate and cared-for, not abandoned.
From my observations, this garden looks pleasing enough to most visitors only in the spring, especially in April when Packera aurea blanket the area – that’s when I heard some positive reactions to the garden. At other times of the year visitors were pretty critical. (A comment I heard a lot was that it looked like the Arboretum had just “let it go.” A FONA officer confirmed to me that they’ve received such complaints.)
Assessments of gardens – any garden – can only be made, I think, when you can see the garden throughout the year. Those gorgeous photos of pollinator gardens in front yards? Wonderful! But now show me how it looks in November through March. Because I want a pleasing-to-me view from my front door every day of the year. Ditto the view of my front door from the street and the view out my kitchen window.
And what makes naturalistic or wild-type front gardens more popular with visitors and more likely to inspire them to try what they see at home? Some of those “cues of care” we talk about a lot these days – features that make a garden look designed and cared for. Things like paths, seating, clear masses of perennials, and for structure – shrubs and trees. And for every day of the year, evergreens.
The Friendship Garden’s caretaker speaks!
There’s lots more to learn about the garden thanks to this video of a talk by the person who cares for it – Chris von Kohn. He gave this talk in September of 2021, so near the end of the garden’s third growing season.
The big question is: Has the planting design reduced the need to weed? His answer is that “Initially there was lots and lots of weeding. I certainly continued that and would say there’s about as much weeding now as there was in the beginning…Even a few months after we planted the garden I could tell that some plants were already out-performing others, so there were some clear winners and losers even 3 to 4 months after things were planted.”
The most overly aggressive plant he mentions is Purpletop (tridens flavus), a North American native tall grass that he “wishes had never been included in the design. It’s really added to the challenges I face in the garden.”
Some plants failed not because of aggressive neighbors but because they weren’t right for the site. Packera obovata, of which 2,857 plugs were installed, couldn’t tolerate the full-sun spot it was planted in and had to be removed.
In my own gardening practice I’ve found weeding and editing plants in borders to be easier when they’re massed and there are wood chips between the masses that I can use as tiny paths through the border. As a gardener wary of ticks, chiggers and more, I like to access the garden without brushing up against plants. So maintaining this garden would be problemmatic for me.
Here’s where the Packera obovata were that got too much sun.
The role of lawn-free front-yard designs in public gardens
My primary take-away from observing this design throughout the year is that the design principles and plant choices would be too complex for even a gardener like me with 40+ years experience growing perennials. So I say “Don’t try this at home” but if you do, I’d love to see the results – exactly what worked and what didn’t.
But knowing exactly which plants behave well with which plants is challenging-to-impossible. It takes a great deal of experience to know these things and even then you can get it wrong. After all, every site is different, every year is different, and climate change is chugging along. The same goes for knowing which plants will love where we plant them and perform as hoped-for. (All those poor Packera obovata!)
Here you’ll find my reviews of ground covers that I used to replace my lawn – all plants that eventually failed.
Like so many supporters of eco-friendly gardening, I believe that the information that new and even experienced gardeners need the most is workable design and plant ideas for front-yard lawn reduction or elimination. I see that question everywhere!
That’s where public gardens can help, as the National Arboretum has in implementing the Phyto Studio design and giving the public a chance to see new and challenging design ideas in place throughout the year. Another example of this are Green Spring Garden’s inspiring model townhouse gardens.
And through their public information outreach, like the FONA video with Chris von Kohn, we can learn even more about lawn-free designs. (How about a 2025 update, Chris?) For my own lawnless garden, I’d love to know which plant combinations worked well long-term, with no bullying.
So I’m grateful to FONA, the National Garden Clubs and the Arboretum for taking the plunge! It must have been scary removing the famous New American Garden designed by Oehme van Sweden and replacing it with something so unfamiliar to the public and in such a public site.
I wouldn’t travel to see it now, because I can get the same look and feel walking along abandoned rail lines, former strip mined land and abandoned farm land in my own vicinity. Maybe in a few years?
How wild a front yard? Shouldn’t slap people as they walk by!
I am laughing, because your comment captures what I was thinking while looking at these photos. All it’s missing is maybe an abandoned shopping cart on its side and an old diaper. One benefit of reading this article today: as a gardener, it’s given me a tremendous ego boost.
To you and Tibs: OMG!
Wow, mean.
Although I have ambitions to expand the front garden to lessen the amount of lawn, I will definitely be taking your advice not to try this at home! When I first started to make the front garden attractive and presentable, my across the street neighbor, normally a very quiet and shy person, came over to thank me, tears in her eyes! What we see of our neighbor’s gardens can be an unexpectedly emotional experience!
So interesting!
I can’t post a picture of my treed and shrubbed garden but I know in the NW corner of Washington State, any empty space will be covered in Himalayan blackberries, invasive grasses, and alders. I apply quantities of wood chips to keep the weeds down. Thanks for checking out this garden. Looks like an idea that isn’t working out in the real world. Mother Nature bats last!
I’m another fan of wood chips. Working on a blog post about them soon.
I really appreciate seeing the pictures of this garden throughout the year, and that your photos show the overall garden & aren’t just focused on some small vignette that happens to look good in that moment. The July pics definitely aren’t too impressive. I think the matrix planting idea is interesting, but it seems to have some complicated challenges for sure.
I’d say forget it. Much easier and less work to mow grass every other week with my centipede lawn.
I get it. Lawn mowing is so easy, even a teenager can do it. Or like me, even younger, for spending money.
mowing grass is noisy, uses fossil fuels or electricity whereas weeding is contemplative, personal, engaging with nature…I prefer weeding which also is generally less physically taxing.
That’s why I got rid of my lawns. And because I ENJOY gardening (as distinct from lawn care).
Seems to me what is missing for consideration are small human beings and their canine companions. Figuring out where the sun is, in a property near wooded areas is another consideration, as the sun moves, the trees grow (more shade) and things keep changing. Invasive will always be there but hopefully some lovely ones will pop through and one can help them find their proper place. I am reminded of Alice in the garden speaking with the Iris who was more than a little affronted by Alices’s “petals”. In the end it is all in the minds eye.
I’ve been in the process of removing lawn and transitioning from a traditional to a more naturalistic garden and have come to the conclusion that not many people care. Gardeners occasionally stop and applaud what I’m attempting to do, but almost everyone who walks or drives by doesn’t even glance, which should come as no surprise. I think the satisfaction of doing this in the decidedly anti-environmental movement we’re living in makes it worth the effort. Be bold.
Thank you, Susan, for sharing your thoughtfully observed lessons learned.
Not exactly what I would have in mind for a front garden, but maybe it works for them. I replaced all my grass but one strip, which the mail people seem to be grateful for, by planting Xeriscape and Kansas Native plants. Due to the city rule of only once a week watering and our summer temps. of 103-106.* I worried that my neighbors were going to ride me out of town on a rail but allmost eveyone has said they wish they had the energy to re-landscape their yards. I’m 79. How much energy do you need?
I’m reminded of our first couple of years of home ownership, when I was beginning to slowly replace our very scraggly, sandy, rectilinear front “lawn” with a more softly shaped space of native plants that wouldn’t require ongoing watering.
My mom, whose green thumb I’ve always admired, visited from far away and offered to do some gardening for me. She asked what my color scheme was for the front yard. I paused to think and then replied, non-ironically, “Green.”
As the photos in this article show, most of the year it’s quite difficult to get the bold shows of color from native plants that we’ve come to expect from annuals and non-native perennials. I look for natives that will first of all, do well in the exact microclimate within the yard -even distance from the gutter downspout matters. Then, instead of looking primarily for flower colors, I look for other attractive ot interesting qualities. Our masses of Little Bluestem grass (mostly self-seeded at this point) probably look a bit unkempt in the summer but are gorgeous all winter, whether under snow or blowing in a heavy nor’easter. The winterberries and bayberries are pretty while on the stem and I love catching sight of small birds feeding on them in the dead of winter. Our river birch (not quite native to our county but at least native to the continent) is interesting and calming to look at year-round, and it provides a little shade for plants in the gutter drainage area that are just a little less drought tolerant. The Pasture Roses aren’t very showy, but they have pink flowers and green leaves and look good with the tall grass; after one summer of watering, they require absolutely no upkeep except pruning off dead bits.
I’m guessing our neighbors of the deep green postage stamp lawns find our yard untidy. But I find their fertilizers, pesticides, and yard sprinklers indefensible -particularly given the coastal salt pond that lies 100 yards from our yards. My answer is that our front yard can be as wild as it needs to be, in order for the salt pond to have a chance of regaining its health and the water table to not be drained dry.
About 15 years ago, I replaced about half of our front yard with a big perennial garden, right along the public sidewalk. For my garden, at least, the best results (in terms of aesthetics and function) come from a curated mixture of natives and non-natives.
My garden style involves jamming in as many plants as I can, then filling in underneath with ground cover plants. I’ve found that the ground covers do reduce, but not eliminate, the need for weeding — but it takes time to figure out which ground covers will tolerate your garden conditions without choking out other plants. Currently I have lamium, lysimachia nummularia (creeping Jenny), and ajuga battling it out with one another.
I’ve tried many native ground covers but they tended to get mowed down by the horde of rabbits in our neighborhood. I do have a number of native grasses and taller native perennials that provide more height and texture later in summer.
I leave creeping jenny in place in my perennial beds because it’s so extremely short I can see weeds popping up through or near it, and also I can step on it without breaking/killing it. Also, its chartreuse color creates a nice contrast.
This thoughtful exploration of garden evolution highlights how outdoor landscape design is shifting from traditional massing to layered, ecological planting. It’s inspiring to see public gardens embracing complexity while challenging what a front yard can be—reminding us that outdoor landscapes must balance beauty, sustainability, and seasonal interest.
The evolution of outdoor landscape design from traditional drifts to layered planting reflects a thoughtful blend of aesthetics and ecology. It’s exciting to see how gardens now balance seasonal beauty with biodiversity, offering inspiration for reimagining our own green spaces in more natural and sustainable ways.
Congratulations to the design team trying something new. We often only move forward when we are willing to break a few rules and try something different.
I look forward to the insect life and bird life in our yard as much as the beautiful flowers. We have an entire yard of buzzing, small and large bees, dragonflies and many other creatures.
I enjoy growing a lot of native perennials in addition to the many evergreen, non native ferns and other broad leaf evergreen mock tropicals we can get away with in our zone 8 garden.
Having said all that, Please! Heck no!
As others have pointed out, the only thing missing is a few dirty diapers and a turned over shopping cart.
This could be exhibit A on why HOAs are not always a bad thing.
Protecting our Pollinators (and in turn ourselves!) is extremely important.
Stressing that this process does not need to be intentionally ugly will be the challenge of the next ten years.
An example of a push to change residential landscapes into ecological restoration sites?
Without apology, I garden for primarily for ‘pretty’. My main concern is that it looks ‘nice’. I prefer large expanses of plants and a tiny lawn to frame it.
We have a 50/50 ratio of garden beds to ‘native’ lawn in the front yard and a 50/50 ratio of a dry laid large patio surrounded by shrubs and perennials and wonderful tall trees.
2nd concern is a small amount of privacy in our suburban back yard.
3rd concern is having a beautiful yard that is a Pollinator magnet. (Assuming I can be considered successful at having a beautiful yard)
Not spraying *anything* (I believe) is the #1 criteria for a healthy landscape full of buzzing critters.
Overuse of Synthetic fertilizers creates weak plants. Grow sturdy plants in their preferred location and plant them on the tight end of recommendations and we can stop doing a lot of unnecessary work. Our yard is only about fifty percent native, but the exotics are also chosen for not being invasive and partly for being well loved by buzzing critters. As a side note, I have seen very little activity on a lot of my native plants. Not what I was expecting.
Compost or simply leaving *just some* of the leaves under shrubs and around perennials makes for better soil. We compost the remaining leaves and other yard debris in one area of the back yard. Helping to create better soil is a long process. Let it take a few years.
For east coast newer converts to ‘native gardening virtuosity’ such as myself, I would always recommend starting with a few reliable Pollinator attractors. These plants are pretty enough, and are extraordinary at attracting buzzing critters.
Anise hyssop, (Blue Fortune is a well loved variety by bumble bees). Reseeds easily but effortless to pull up extras or transplant them. My first choice for attracting the bumblebees that I love so much.
Clustered mountain mint (Pycnanthemum muticum) [but only in very large containers or completely surrounded by a barrier. This stuff runs horribly!] Smells beautiful, buried in bees when in bloom. Looks very pretty in a silver way.
From Google AI
• Abundant Nectar:
It produces copious amounts of nectar, attracting a wide range of pollinators.
• Long Bloom Time:
It blooms from summer into early fall, providing a continuous food source for pollinators.
• Study Results:
A study at Penn State found that Clustered Mountain Mint was visited by over 78 different insect species, making it a top pollinator attractor.
Another concern is growing host plants for caterpillars to devour. Milkweed, dill and other sacrificial plants are needed to begin some insects cycle of life.
A small stand/drift of Common Milkweed Asclepias syriaca, will provide a home for Monarch caterpillars.
While some of these plants are a bit coarse, they provide important ecological benefits. All 3 plants mentioned look decent as a single mass or drift. (On a personal level, ‘matrix’ planting is a hard pass.)
Also on a purely personal level, most grasses are a hard pass. The only ones I really like are Japanese forest grass, native northern sea oats and some of the variegated carexes.
All miscanthus are absolutely gorgeous. But the majority are reseeding nightmares in disturbed open ground. I’ll never grow another beautiful miscanthus again.
The bottom line is Protecting and Encouraging pollinators in all of their life stages does not need to look disgusting.
Solid drifts of useful plants interspersed with other more photogenic plants can satisfy the reasonable members of the HOA as well as the reasonable members of the people who are working hard to support native pollinators.
Thank you for encouraging this discussion! We have a lot of work to do to encourage gardeners to help support wildlife (and ourselves) in a thoughtful way.
You’re my kind of gardener!
I say let’s expand the pool of potential converts to more eco-friendly gardening by showing beautiful plants in beautiful gardens? People who can be changed by appealing to ecological concerns only – that’s a small minority of the public. It’s a missed opportunity if we don’t acknowledge and USE the appeal of beauty!! And yes that includes showing them some great nonnative plants – for pollinators and for the gardener/homeowner to enjoy.
I believe a “Stop Spraying” campaign would be one of the most effective ways to help native pollinators rebound. I would like to see what the Xerces Society can come up with that is as catchy as No Mow May or Leave the Leaves.
Spraying any type of insecticide is typically the #1 killer of pollinators, native or otherwise. Even if the sprays are ‘organic’. (Arsenic is organic. And deadly)
Our yard is barely 50% native flowers. There are a ton of buzzing creatures on the non native plants, as well as the native plants.
None of our non-natives are invasive in our area.
One of my favorite local examples of a useful non-native is Fatsia japonica. Fatsia blooms in early December here during the many warm spells. *Nothing* else is blooming at that time except annual winter pansies. Not the late native asters, not the native goldenrods, not even the well loved, very late blooming, eastern fake dragon head, physostegia purpurea.
All are finished blooming, except for the Fatsia. The Fatsia is covered in bees and all manner of tiny, pretty creatures.
I believe a Stop Spraying campaign is even more important than planting only native plants.
Excellent points!
You have done what most of us only think about doing — thank you for carefully documenting the garden each month. Too often gardeners are given poster child photos of naturalistic gardens in peak season only. The majority of people never think past that point if they don’t know the garden, setting up unrealistic expectations for their own attempts at home. In this case, peak season is still not that impressive. A shame. – MW
Susan, thank you for sharing. I always enjoy learning about other gardens. I may be out of step with other readers, but I don’t find the autumn-winter pictures unattractive. The brief was to have a more naturalistic effect; browns are a key color in non-cultivated plant communities through autumn and winter. To me it sounds like the garden might benefit from adding more early bulbs in significant numbers, more evergreen groundcovers and/or perennials with evergreen rosettes. In a garden of this size, it makes sense that there have been winners and losers, polite citizens and thugs. These kinds of gardens require attentive steering and management. At five years in, it is unsurprising that some areas need a reset. There is a good dialogue between Phyto Studio and the garden manager, so this will be an interesting garden space to watch develop, if the garden manager has a budget for new plant material to pump up weak areas. This type of garden may not be realistic for a non-gardener to look after, but even those with more traditional landscapes may find some useful inspiration.
Hmmm… I live nearby and visit this garden often. I’m not sure a handful of low-res iPhone shots—snapped during a drought and the dead of winter, no less—quite rise to the level of critical analysis. Especially when compared to professionally composed “before” photos that conveniently overlook the garden’s prior decline. Not exactly an apples-to-apples comparison. I have to wonder if the author—or really, any of us—would volunteer our own gardens for this kind of drive-by critique. Bad lighting, off-season, no context? Sounds more like a Yelp review than serious commentary.
The photos also skip right over some of the garden’s most transcendent moments—like the eruption of Eastern beebalm and beardtongue that follow the Packera. It’s a showstopper. Emotional, even. It reminds me of the azalea gardens where everything builds toward a seasonal crescendo. Sure, there are quieter moments (late summer and early winter do feel a bit subdued), but gardens that chase year-round “interest” often end up with static planting schemes that never quite thrill at any time.
This garden dares to be ambitious. It’s trying to provoke—especially around ideas of biodiversity. And yes, that means it occasionally has what one might call “bad hair days,” particularly if you’re judging by suburban mulch-bed standards. It’s well-maintained, but I agree—it’s missing a layer of thoughtful editing. Naturalistic plantings need that. Without curation, they lose their rhythm.
But even with its imperfections, the garden feels deeply connected to the oak woods that bracket it. As those trees mature, I suspect the whole composition will gain clarity. And for what it’s worth, I’ve never seen a garden so alive with pollinators—there’s something happening here that goes beyond ornament.
This is the second in what seems to be a series of “I don’t get it” posts on matrix planting. Which is fair—there’s plenty to critique. But the tone leans a bit nit-picky, especially given how little critical energy is spent on the real default: tidy, lifeless hosta beds ringed in dyed mulch. I mean, I don’t get quantum physics or French existentialism either, but I wouldn’t blog about it. Sometimes I just wish this blog had a bit more editorial curiosity—and a little less performative bewilderment.
So much to respond to! Especially to an anonymous comment. But here goes.
I guess it has to be said – I made no effort to make the garden look any particular way, just to be shown as it looks throughout the year. No special camera – just the iphone I use everywhere else on this blog. And no special lighting to make it look its best. (I love professional garden photographers like Rob Cardillo but can’t afford to hire them to photograph the garden 10 times, as I did.) And “dead of winter”? Absolutely, that’s the point – to see it throughout the year, just as a homeowner would see their front yard every day of the year, as do their neighbors. (I did skip months when the garden was covered with snow.)
And what you call the “professionally composed before” photos are equally amateur – they’re mine except the winter shot. I apologized in the post for not having photos of the OvS design every month.
Lastly, you’re probably unfamiliar with my blog posts over the last 20 years, but I’ve spent lots of “critical energy” on the default mode of residential landscaping, especially unnecessary lawns.
About my lack of “editorial curiosity” and my “performative bewilderment,” I’m at a loss for words in response. I guess you could say I’m bewildered.
But I’m truly glad the garden is to YOUR liking and gives you so much pleasure.
But stay tuned for this Sunday when I publish my very positive review of another naturalistic, mostly native garden – at the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum.
I’m gonna be photographing it throughout the year, too.
Ah, more “photojournalism” via iPhone to look forward to? I suppose we’re now calling a series of casually snapped smartphone pics a form of critical analysis. Personally, I get the same vibe I do from a random Yelp review of chicken parm—sure, you learn something, but it’s hardly an exposé.
I get the impulse to document the garden “as-is,” but if the goal is to spark meaningful critique, maybe we aim for a bit more than just point-and-shoot in harsh midday light. Otherwise, it’s less insight and more garden-shaming by way of your camera roll.
Really appreciate this post—and the thoughtful attention given to the garden. While the design is Claudia West’s, I do wish one of us had been interviewed, if only because we’d likely have agreed with many of the critiques. We’re immensely proud of the garden, but that doesn’t mean we don’t see its flaws.
My biggest critique? It’s due for a design edit. The installation happened deep into early summer, and it showed—P. obovata fried before it could establish, and a few other species struggled. One of the edge plants—a Calamintha from Kurt Bluemel’s nursery—turned out not to be true to its cultivar and reverted to a weaker form. Those neat, well-behaved species weren’t replaced, and since then, more assertive plants like Packera aurea and Penstemon digitalis have taken over where those defining edges used to be. The result is a bit of a blur, especially in the thick of a humid DC summer. We’ve been quietly advocating for an edit—bringing back some clarity through tighter, more defined masses of horticultural selections—but so far, that balance hasn’t been restored.
Another challenge has been the delay in the tree layer. The core idea was simple: a stylized oak savanna—just a grove of oaks and an herbaceous carpet. The site was originally dense with shrubs, and the intent was to open it up, connecting it visually and ecologically to the oak clusters that flank it. That’s beginning to happen as the young oaks grow, but I’ll admit—I wish we could’ve started with larger specimens. The Arboretum opted for their own wild-collected oak selections, which is great in principle, but it means the framework will take another decade or more to fully express itself.
That said, I actually love the garden in winter. I was there in late February—when most DC gardens are in hibernation—and the Sesleria, Deschampsia, Viola, and Erigeron formed a calm, subtle mosaic that felt genuinely beautiful.
I’m grateful for Susan’s balanced take. And to B. Smith’s earlier comment, I personally think Susan is one of the most curious and fair garden writers I know. While she may be more conservative taste-wise than me, her long track record of fighting mindless suburban lawns and embracing native planting (when designed well and not dogmatic) shows an intensely curious mind.
Thanks so much, Thomas. I thought about interviewing you but then I opted for requesting a comment from you, which worked – still I wish I’d asked for a comment earlier.
BUT I have a correction and a complaint. (No surprise!) My lawn-free gardens, current and former, wouldn’t be called conservative by any standard, they’re just less wild than prairies or savannahs. Seeing my name associated with the word “conservative” is such a shock, it tells me the word is unhelpful in these discussions. Ditto the strict nativists calling themselves more “progressive” than people like me. I wish we could just call them “different approaches.”
Beyond what my personal gardens look like, my POV in this post, as in most posts, is the DIY homeowner we’re all trying to coax into turning some or all of their lawn into gardens filled with better plants. So I’d call my approach pragmatic and realistic.
Totally fair—and no disrespect at all was intended by that label. I appreciate your perspective, and I agree that “conservative” probably isn’t a helpful term in this context. I also describe my own approach as pragmatic and realistic, though clearly we each mean something slightly different by that.
To me, the real difference seems to lie in how far we’re each comfortable pushing against conventional standards of landscape beauty—especially in symbolically loaded spaces like front yards or public-facing gardens like FONA’s. It’s less about labels and more about how we each navigate those cultural expectations. And I truly value these kinds of conversations—they help clarify where those lines are and how we might redraw them.