We’ve all got them.
Tchotchkes. Knick knacks. Doodads. More kindly put – and through squinted eyes – objets d’art.
Unless you’re a minimalist with an inflexible disposition, your rooms and shelves are probably home to many ‘little bits’ that make you smile and evoke a memory (or the image of a dust cloth). From where I’m sitting right now, I can see a grouping of wooden bolete mushrooms, a collection of jam pots and two stuffed toy mice that my daughter used to delight in hiding around the house to surprise me. All treasured…all trinkets.
Many of us continue that theme right into the garden, and despite our best intentions, can end up with a landscape that features a few too many flights of fancy rather than our legitimate adventures in horticulture. If you’re trying to maintain a good balance between both, how do you know when you’ve gone overboard?
Is there a magic number? A cheap and nasty object that should never be displayed? The Chelsea Flower Show has just reversed its ban on gnomes — but how much of that was for the publicity it brought to the Show, and the money it brought to charity; and how much because they realized they are beloved by many people?
Not by me, but that’s not important. It’s easy to disparage the judgment of another human being based on trendy definitions of what’s in and what’s out, or what’s tasteful and what’s terrible; but we mustn’t forget that the objects that surround us reflect who we are and the lives that we’ve led. And that’s different for each and every one of us. It’s why I absolutely despise the legislated, Wonder Bread taste of HOAs when it comes to gardens and their contents.
At the end of the day, a garden should bring us joy. If you look at your circle of ceramic bunnies and feel that joy, who am I to say that you shouldn’t? After all, you may someday visit my garden and wonder why I have an obsession with spheres and why I can’t seem to stop painting my tchotchkes red.
All of that said, I’ve found over the years that the following guidelines help me prevent an ornamentation orgy, and (usually) allow me to match the right piece to the right place:
- Group objects.
The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. This concept is incredibly successful if I group objects together that share a common characteristic and use aids to stagger heights. For instance, a group of planted terracotta pots; a forest of ceramic mushrooms; a disparate collection of copper items. Then, I might use surrounding planting schemes to give the group a bit of horticultural gravitas. - Use objects to showcase specimen plants or points in the landscape.
While I don’t advocate surrounding a beloved tree with a collection of bunny statues arranged in a circle (we all have our limits), using an object or gorgeous piece of art to call attention to a beloved plant or landscape feature works well – such as using a brightly painted wooden ladder to show off a clematis or placing a single chair near a bend in a pathway. Or placing a 3 meter group of steel dandelions at the top of a hillside (that I still think about in a former display at RHS Wisley). Or that’s right, I can’t afford bespoke.
A simple red chair signals the path in Cole Burrell’s garden at Bird Hill.
- Cycle objects in and out.
The human spirit craves innovation, and using the same things the same way every year is just plain tedious. I’ve gotten very used to using objects (and plants!) one season and not the next – in a completely different way. - Keep things neat.
If I’ve got a junkyard out there, I’m not bringing joy to anyone, much less myself. I try to stay honest with my inner hoarder. Have my ornaments gone from ‘rustic’ to ‘past it?’ When I’m not sure, I ask a friend. (Over a drink, so I don’t get annoyed.) - Specify intention
This is one of the most important questions I ask myself. If you are a plant collector, you will have very different goals for the real estate out there than someone who is creating a country-themed garden and doesn’t mind stacking old wooden crates where you might have placed a rare fern. If I know what I want to create, I know when I’ve gone astray. Which brings me to my last point. - Going with the gut.
When I pass an object in my garden and wrinkle my nose ever so slightly, something’s not quite right. This may be the result of an immature garden that has not grown enough to “absorb” the object, or the result of an immature gardener who needed to keep her hands in his pockets the last time she went shopping. I usually give myself a little time, and if I still don’t love it – I get rid of it.
Do you like to use ornamentation, or are you a plant purist? Looking forward to hearing from readers on this one. –MW
As with the plants, some combinations work and others do not. The key thing is keep each focused view of only one type of tchokskes. No set of blue bottles amid concrete bunnies
When garden tchotchkes overpower the plantings, something is wrong. They should be there only to reflect a subtle hint of humanity’s influence. After all, a garden’s inherent characteristic is fantasy. Plants become neighbors to plants they would never choose in the wild. Plants are arranged in rows, circles, highs and lows, trimmed, pampered and weeded. The gardener orchestrates this magical setting. If bunnies in a row are set to eternally skirt your border, and they add a dimension of delight, you’ll know it works. Also, tchotchkes are a very personal thing that can evoke revulsion or happy memories. So choose those you love, it’s YOUR garden paradise.
You have touched on a subject near and dear to my heart. I love gardening and I love garden themes/ornaments. I also struggle with the line at which beauty, creativity and whimsy become tacky and cluttered. My line is probably not everyone’s line, but, for instance, my fairy garden is more garden than fairy. I don’t like the fairy gardens where Dollar Store fairy items are arranged in a vignette. My fairies (concrete, metal, tin, small amounts of plastic) frolic in a large woodland area with a wide variety of shade-loving plants. My other gardens are accented with garden “junk”, hopefully to draw attention to flower colors, etc., as you suggest. Bottom line, I guess, is do what makes you happy!
I’d love to see more pictures of well placed non-plant ornaments!
Me too. How can this be possible?
Well, that provoked some discussion in this house. Are we including sculpture? (Surely those dandelions are sculpture?) and words? (Little Sparta)? Function? (seats, bird baths)
Little Sparta was (don’t know about now) over filled with Things – and Words…. Which made us decide many years ago that things don’t work in a garden if you get more than one disconnected thing in one viewpoint.
This is a BIG topic!
These things can certainly make a garden speak. Raise it to a work of art. Or sometimes to wonderful sources of different kinds of laughter. Indispensable.
This is a BIG topic — absolutely. Didn’t have a chance to answer comments this weekend, but wow, what a response. Obviously on the mind of any gardener who’s ever thought “is that art, or doodad?” (Dandelions were definitely sculpture. One I wish I could afford.) –MW
Many years ago I had the pleasure of attending a talk by Felder Rushing. This included a demonstration of how to turn an old tire into a planter—not my taste but certainly entertaining! But what has stuck with me thru the years after his talk was the term “over accessorized” for those gardens with the inclusion of too many items not organic in nature—plastic this or that…. But a garden is a personal thing and what works for me is not necessarily yours!
His or her idea of Art will differ from mine, most likely. I do not like do-dads in a garden. I do like bird baths. Some fountains, but I can’t afford the kind I’d like, so no. I love plants, leaves, trees. Real birds. But no little guys in sombreros taking siesta. No fake flowers, or words displayed. Boulders OK.
Oooo, I love this post. I’m struggling with this issue. I wish everyone reading this came to my yard and gave their advice. I have a 2/3rds acre suburban plot in my new-to-me used home. The yard is surrounded by an ugly 1950’s chain link fence, which I had repaired. No money to replace it.
I know Marianne is primarily focusing on Tchotchkes IN the garden, but this fence really is the frame for my garden.
I want to make the long part of this fence exposed to the street look better. Large & small trees grew through it, which I had cut down. The graying dead trunks still stand half out of the fencing. I’ve attached pieces of mostly black decorative iron to the fence, along with finials over the tops of some of the smaller tree trunks and a sundial on top of one of the slanted trunks.. I’ve added portions of a stained glass window and a large terracotta half pot. This is a working class ‘hood. I’m trying to toe the line of a little funky, maybe artsy, but not tacky. Is there such a thing as hanging too much on a fence? I don’t think I’ve gone there, yet. I do want to add a sign that relates to my dogs: Bark less, Wag more. This isn’t easy.
in the 10 ft right of way between the fence and the street, I planted wild flowers, but this is their first year so it’s gonna’ take awhile.
You can spray paint a galvanized cyclone fence matte black. You’d be surprised at how much it will visually disappear.
I agree, paint that thing. Black will disappear, or a dark green. You could also go bright magenta. But definitely paint it.
A garden designer that I greatly admire (Tara Dillard) used to say two things about garden ornaments
– dinky is stinky
– have garden ornaments, including benches, planters, birdbaths, etc. that will be fought over at your estate sale
This advice has never let me down! That being said , I was recently in a delightful garden that was definitely on the more is more side of things and was absolutely enchanted. It was like a window into the gardener’s personality in the best possible way
I was recently at the garden of a noted ceramic artist with a tremendous foliage garden. It was absolutely stupendous. The art and plantings were completely complimentary. Well done Marcia!
I firmly believe the only garden rule is: it must please the garden maker. So I smile whenever I see garden art — whether it’s something I personally would die rather than display or not. A conversation the other day between me and my older daughter when she was heading to HomeGoods, after I asked her to check if a large frog statue was still there. I told her “it’s wearing driving goggles.” She calls me ten minutes later: “Is it wearing clothes? Like, a suit, vest, and long gloves?” I said, “of course it’s wearing clothes. Goggles and naked is ludicrous.” It’s still $79.99. I’m waiting for a sale.
That sounds like Mr. Toad, one of my favorite characters from one of my favorite books. Don’t wait until it goes on sale, it might be gone!
It was there yesterday. I think you’re right: I should just get it.
I love this! I can just imagine the laughter that will surround said frog in your garden. I hope you eventually get it, sale or not.
I’m a little kitschy. I have no shame in this. I’ve got a few (literally: less than 10) bits of statuary delicately placed along paths – mostly small anthropomorphic squirrel statues bought from the Blue Home Center because my husband and I think they’re delightful (my favorite is the squirrel driving a motorcycle with a very worried turtle in the sidecar). They peak out from under the Clethra allée or a Hydrangea arborescens or near an arch with a Major Wheeler vine.
Also, a small velociraptor hidden amongst some marginal wood ferns behind a modern faux bois bench, I believe, really adds something to the character of the part of the garden we call the “Moss Room.”
My garden is large – encompassing the better part of an acre so far – so the few bits and bobs don’t overwhelm. I’m not even sure anyone actually notices them – there’s too many plants to look at. The other stuff, like the birdbaths (besides, of course, the delightfully garish bright yellow sunflower with a napping gnome one), some of the benches and the owl statue are all extremely tasteful and purchased from fancy pants Westchester and Litchfield County, CT, nurseries, so it basically all evens out, anyway.
Stuff is fun but often overdone. Keep it similar in color or texture and move it around so it isn’t alway easy to spot- a gentle surprise is nice. Too much is too much. but that said- sometimes the over the top is fun to visit (but I couldn’t live with it) Everybody has their thing
I love seeing others express themselves, even if — oddly, especially if — it is something I’d never see myself doing. On a garden tour in Northampton decades ago, I walked under a shade tree with creepy vintage dolls’ arms suspended singly by wires from the tree. So spooky and cool, and needless to say, unique.
I have a few doodads in my garden…. birds on stakes and a little cat with binoculars, a couple ceramic mushrooms. Mostly I like to buy or find old things on which to display potted plants. I love tucking pots in and around the shrubs and garden plants on something interesting.
Great topic, Marianne! Looking forward to more responses.
One of my fave activities on a slow day is to ride around residential neighborhoods to scope out front gardens. Occasionally I’ll see an exceedingly over-ornamented one and think, “My gawd! That is absolutely horrible”! And then I reign myself in and think, “Who am I to decide what makes that gardener’s heart happy”?
I am subtle in my public space (front yard) and save the “fun stuff” for the back yard. Tuteurs, armillaries, trellises, and obelisques are my Achilles heel. And my heart leaps at sight of a faux frog/toad that looks like the real thing.
~less is more~.
I used to organized a day of local garden tours. And sometimes even the most over-the-top displays of non-plant items in a garden were so much fun to visit even when we’d be appalled to replicate them. Like, in lieu of a mirrored gazing ball on a stand, there was a bowling ball with hot glued marbles all over it. Or a fairy garden of tiny ceramic figurines partying around a tree trunk
I have a century old weeping mulberry that has, for over forty years, always evoked the image of a giant overarching fallopian tube, and yearned for a giant ovum underneath. I finally found the perfect solution in a huge, spherical factory roof vent that spins freely in the lightest breeze. With the addition of four large green agave-like leaves cut from the kids’ old discarded slide, it begged to be named Audrey. Best two hundred bucks I’ve ever spent.
That is absolutely wonderful. I also wonder how many people ‘get it’ when they look at the whole thing. –MW
Wow — what a response! I’m sorry not to answer each and every one, but fascinating to read and hear all of these thoughts and experiences. –MW
Not many tchotchkes in my garden, except for three iron frogs that Bill & I bought for our first garden in 1996. When we moved into the new house, we had them restored at a cost so exorbitant that they live on the patio, not the garden.
I have a soft spot for maximalist kitsch, where the gardener goes big for what gives them joy. One such garden belongs to Millie Ellis– https://gardenrant.com/2025/05/down-the-yellow-brick-road-with-millie.html