When my Sister isn't Doctoring and I'm not Painting or Gardening....

Visit on 11th April 2012

Everyone loves a castle, don’t they? I always feel there is a romantic aura wrapping round castles of all shapes and sizes, and Arundel Castle, towering over the small but perfectly formed town, nestled in the heart of the South Downs, is no exception.

Arundel Castle is seeped in history, as gory and dramatic as it gets - Henry VIII, Ann Boleyn, Catholicism, murders in towers and deaths in exile. It’s all there, but a softer profile has inspired an interesting, controversial and much talked about addition to the extensive grounds of the castle. Before WWII, there was a thriving and busy garden here, but as like everyone else’s green patches in those troubled times, this was slowly but surely given over to the production of vegetables, and, like so many other gardens, was not a priority for recovery after the war, and it was eventually covered with tarmac and used  as a car park.

Time moved on and things changed, resulting in the grand opening of The Collector Earl’s Garden in May 2008 by HRH The Prince of Wales. This new garden, designed by the successful and bold landscape design duo, Isabel and Julian Bannerman (http://www.hanhamcourt.co.uk/) is sculptured and manicured to evoke a Jacobean garden,  and has a bit of magic thrown in too. The planting, unlike the hard landscaping, is restrained, though like the matching pair of green oak domed pergolas, is planned on a large, robust scale. In the courtyard, with the rill of flowing water, which is flanked by huge pots, filled with seasonal delights, the tall stone walls are softened by scented  Magnolia grandiflora, Catalpas and assorted shrubs.

As one walks through the pergolas and down the steps into the larger part of the garden, there is a delightful grass maize which circles its way into the centre, planted up with Tree Ferns, (Dicksonia antarctica) and seasonal additions, grounded by large rocks, all hand picked  from nearby Fittleworth quarry, which reflect the rock work “mountain” at the top end which, in turn,  sits low under the shadow of the cathedral’s impressive silhouette. It is always pleasing to have varying levels in a garden and this has been done to great effect here.

Sitting atop this man made hill, which has caused some concern in the town, as it, like the shrine in London’s Battersea Park, has broken the long neat uncluttered line of the  boundary, is a charming, green oak  folly. This sturdy building is full of magic, it’s interior being based on the shell mosaic, designed by Inigo Jones, to celebrate Prince Henry’s Masque on New Year’s Day in 1611. Taking centre stage here,  no mean feat among this elaborate decoration, there sits a golden coronet, ever spinning, on a stalagmite fountain - clever and delightful.

But, do not think this is all. One must make time to explore and wander through the older part of the garden, now bursting with life. This area is managed organically and boasts  many seasonal delights, amongst which, in Spring, are the glorious  tulip beds. There are whole parterres given over  to vibrant, nodding colour. The head gardener told us that appeldoorn tulips are the best repeaters, lasting for many years, retaining their vigour and colour. Each year the display areas will change, not only to surprise and excite regular visitors, but also as a help to keep tulip grey rot at bay. If these bulbs become infected with the virus, which presents as knobbly bud and leaf swellings and distortions,  tulips cannot be replanted in the same spot for 5/7 years - that’s a long recovery.

This area of the garden is undergoing change right now, not only for aesthetic purposes but also as a  prevention intervention to halt another plant disease. Box blight is slowly creeping in from the West, and so the little  perfectly clipped box hedges, which have for so long delineated the beds,  are gradually being replaced with Hebe sutherlandii, a small, grey green whipcord variety, or being removed altogether and small herbaceous perennial plugs, all grown on the estate, of course, are being encouraged to spill out and tumble over the shingle paths. The feeling is of  a much softer, less regulated garden altogether, and now is a good time to see this change in progress, and have a chance to chat with the team who are much on evidence.

Another area of particular merit, is the wild flower garden. To my amazement, each year, the ground in this section is cleared, dug over and over, re-planted with spring flowering bulbs  and, as that shows takes it’s bow, it is once again turned and sown with fresh wild flower seed mix. No two years mix is the same, and the parterres here are successionally planted, thus stretching out, even further, the season of interest.  To date, apparently, 96,000 tulips bulbs have been planted, but at  the time of going to press, there were no exact figures for the number of wild flower seeds sown! No such thing as a natural garden really, is there?

Arundel Castle is a perennial in the calendar of gardens to visit, and I  make at  least 4 trips per year. I learn from and watch each seasonal development and look forward to each new year’s opening dates, which are available at http://www.arundelcastle.org/_pages/02_gardens.htm

Gardeners Delight

“Informative, friendly and inspirational!”, read the on-line caption of the ‘how to find us’ on the Sarah Raven, Perch Hill Farm page in Google.... and yes it was.  My colleagues and I thought that  perhaps Ms Raven was shy, which considering her public profile was interesting.  Her husband was charm itself, warm, welcoming and jovial, but he has had a lifetime of such a role, being a  Nicholson, after all.

I was expecting to find fault and to be disappointed with this visit, bearing in mind the high octane merchandising publicity that goes on - how wrong I was. Instead,  I found riches of visual and intellectual delight. There were long rectangular beds of companion planting, known in the trade nowadays, as the head gardener at Arundel Castle gardens informed us on the Thursday evening before, as “fleg” planting, ie. flower and veg. together. These  beds were raised with wooden boards and were inventively and successfully staked into box frames about 25 cm in size, constructed with wood batons, tied together,  to compliment what was being grown in them. For example, on this occasion, the place was  alive with hot, brilliantly coloured spiky tulips, for which Ms Raven is justifiably renowned, mixed in with purple leafed Kale, ‘Red Bor”, and both were nodding happily in the strong breeze,  neatly squared off in their sections. The breeze  and temperature fluctuations, which  I  imagine would be fairly prevalent here, as the site is on an exposed hillside in East Sussex,  

 had been diverted and calmed successfully, to some  degree, by carefully planned tall hedges.

In another long raised bed, rows of delphiniums and allium, amongst other flegies,  had been loosely, but effectively, lassoed by long twists of hazel, wound round and round the plant formations, like lovingly twisted scarves. It all looked natural yet  beautifully maintained. There were several other creative treats too. For example, the path between the beds at one point had been punctuated with metal arches, which were made from pale jade green wire, crafted to look organic, while themselves supporting old gnarled clematis. The whole avenue not only complimented the arch cut into the hedging on the far  side, but leant this section of the garden an almost Eastern, mystical atmosphere.

Moving on deeper into the gardens didn’t disappoint either. There were a number of intimate “rooms”, as Sir Roy Strong first penned these types of gardens within gardens, again, mainly, divided by hedging. At each beginning there were helpful and interesting notices of information. In one section we learned that half the roses here would be treated organically, while  the other half would be chemically treated to deter beasties! At the end of the summer the results would be logged and much will have been learned, the results of which, I hope, will be made public to Ms Raven’s adoring public.

Turning another corner, we tumbled upon some rich and flowing, almost prairie style planting in classic cottage bed schemes, and some very old climbers, snuggled round the barn walls,  though here the upkeep looked like heavier work. The beautiful Sussex tile hung cottage was crying out for some tlc, and I understand the couple were about to make Perch Hill their main home. Paths were a mix of gravel, brick and old concrete blocks and we were led naturally, though not in any pushy way, to the hub of this commercial enterprise. A large, low half conservatory, half greenhouse building was buzzing with  walls hung with specially packaged seeds, books, and garden ephemera. We headed straight for the dining tables and the teaching areas - both delighted us. Lunch was simple and simply delicious and the list of classes and talks inspired us.

Sarah Raven is renowned for her confident and exuberant use of colour, famed for her tulips and dahlias. Having seen the tulips in situ, we have vowed to return later on in the year to feast on the dahlia extravaganza. My colleagues and I  agreed on and were most impressed by the feeling that this garden had retained the personal touch, no easy task when running a large business. Here one could imagine the family picnicking and sipping tea in  glorious privacy amid bursts of colour, while being gently soothed by the borrowed  landscape of the South Downs.

Details of further open days, classes and shopping opportunites , are all available on the website http://www.sarahraven.com.

Split Personality

For many years now I have been living in a connundrum (SP?).... Being half German and half Irish, I have world war three going on in my head. My Germanic self insists zat ve do everyzing vell and ve vill do it now.... Whereas, always a little bit later, of course, my true Irish soul speaks out, telling me to feck it, do it later.! The net result is that I have spent a lifetime with half cleaned cupboards and  feeling guilty because I always want to plump my cushions and hoover!

Imagine my delight. when in January this year, so only a few precious weeks ago, my lovely sister confided in me that she felt the same. Oh the joy! We now freely, happily swop symptoms. We no longer feel like odd balls - in fact we think we are quite cool...well,  maybe we wouldn't go that far, but it is very true that a problem shared is very much a problem halved.

Anyway, today my German self certainly woke up first. In fact, I was awoken very early, at 5.45am, to be precise. Knowing that there were no trains running from my local station, and keen  to be in London for my art therapy course, I had given myself enough time to shower and do my yoga, please....I had planned to drive for 40 minutes to try and catch a train on a completely different line, which I duly did only to be faced with cancellations and serious delays due to inclement weather. Well, for a start that made me laugh, we wouldn't have batted an eyelid at such a wimpish excuse to cancel a train in Germany! I stood on the freezing platform watching the expected arrival of my already late train being pushed back and back... and made my decision... I had no chance of getting to college on time and very probably no chance of getting home again, so I turned around, gave my parking ticket to a grateful stranger and headed off to Petworth Park for a frosty, bright walk, armed with gloves, furry  hat and a camera. Heaven.

I came home,  uploaded my photos, drank loads of lemon and ginger tea, listened to radio 4 all afternoon and worked on these  - I think my Irish half made the right decision, but that might just be blarney speaking! And my evening has just been cancelled - the wrong kind of snow now , hey ho - more art then, or find an untidy kitchen cupboard... is there really no cure?

Other Peoples' Blogs

I had a good week this week - a really good week -  busy, sociable, sunny AND I got to spend a couple of days and a night in London.....so energy fuelled. I was taken out to Soho House for lunch on Friday which was cool, and just after we finished lunch, the whole Soho House Group was sold for a wopping big sum...... that's what I call timing.

Then I went to the Haunch of Venison, New Bond Street, London,  to see a small and perfectly formed figurative exhibition. That was exiting and informative.

And then I went to stay with my friend in Notting Hill, who has just bought a rooftop apartment.... what a view from up there, what light from up there - and absolutely nobody overlooking her - I don't usually look out of windows first thing in the morning when I wake up in town, I am usually a country mouse and long for my long views, but......

..... that's what I call a good start to a day, and inspirational for a further  series of my landscape oil pastels and paintings. Have I shown you those yet? Some of them  are up there on Saatchi Online.....

....Anyway,  what I really wanted to tell you about was her daughter's blog - this girlie is Young, and Snappy and London - www.hermionetaylorwhosjack - Her blog is called If You Have To Spend It Then Spend It On This...... I already want to buy/own/give  a few of her choices to date - check her out for that next birthday pressie you need to find. You won't be disappointed.

Happy Christmas everyone

I'm feeling a bit nervous tonight. I'm not in a blind spin and it really is very nearly Christmas. So, what have I forgotten, I ask? Mind you, I'm not cooking this year, and that makes a huge difference - Turkey Lurkey at friends' on Sunday and off to family ( about 30 of us!) on Boxing Day in Oxford - providing my reliable easy peasy Josceline Dimbleby mince pies with brandy butter and, of course, Wensleydale,  for both occasions. 

I was messing around with orange pastry at 3ish  this afternoon while listening to BBC radio 4's carol service from King's College - my real Christmas beginning, followed by our very own beautiful local service. Each year we wend our way along a couple of miles into the South Downs, to a  tiny candle lit church, filled to the gunnels, (or is it ginnils?) with holly, ivy and all of us singing our little hearts out.... Laughter and stories abound, and good will bounces round, reflected in every face. No shopping here!

But the shopping has been done - at least as much as I could. I have  bought most of my gifts from small independent and, on the whole,  local retailers, makers and crafts  people and I   discovered notonthehighstreet this year - what a find. Several friends do very well with their crafts and hand made clothes on the site - have a look. Anyway, you already know all about Miss Ruby's doll's house, nearly fully furnished now as well,  but here are the portraits I have done for my  beloveds of their beloveds! Sleeping Ruby in oil on canvas, and Mister at Home in charcoal on paper - so last minute did all this happen that Ruby is definitely a "look, but don't touch". She is still wet! Nothing like being prepared hey, but, without, I hope,  sounding naff or cheesy, I do like to remember the non-commercial bits. I loved it   when my girls were little and we would spend hours making lavender oil, or cookies, or whatever for Grandmas and aunties - it never rained and no-one ever got bored or cross in my memory wardrobe of course.

Anyway, however organised or otherwise you are, have a happy Christmas and all the very best for the year ahead. May it all be peaceful and not too dramatic or chaotic - so much seems to have happened in the last couple of years, I feel we all need a bit of a rest. Take care x

Decorating for Christmas, sort of...

I haven't been able to sneak off to my studio for the last week or so, as a rather large and important design project came my way which had to be completed by December 25th.....

When I was 5 years old,  my very creative and rather wonderful Father designed and built a doll's house for me. Now this was no ordinary doll's house (Sounds more like an M&S advert!). It had working lights in every room, a sand pit and a pond.... he even made a doll's house for the doll's house... he was my hero and I loved my doll's house beyond anything else. In turn,  so did my younger sister, as did my daughters and my sister's daughter... and now its the turn of my little granddaughter to share the magic. So a long line of memories being brought back to life. This at least was how I imagined I would feel when I lovingly set out to restore the beauty of this property.

Well, the first note of discrepancy with this romantic notion came about when my niece, seeing her mother and aunt poring over on-line miniature wallpapers, very seriously, asked me, "Auntie Karin, what is your design theme?"... "Garish?" I replied , anxiously. The second notable moment was when I realised I had to move squatters from the garden.....

Plain sailing thereafter, I hear you declare. Well, not really as small spaces, glue and little scissors and I really don't go very well together, which I know surprises people, as many assume that we creative bods love fiddly things.... well, I don't! I got quite cross with my Dad, then became quite impressed by him and finally when I had applied the last mock beam, remembered just how much he did love making stuff for us, how gentle and patient he was, and all that brought me right back there again, watching him snip and paste and chuckle...... 

So,  all's well that ends well. Memory bank replete,  designer happy, client bound to be happy. Uh, uh, not so fast... I heard yesterday that my delightful granddaughter announced that what she really really wants is that pink plastic Barbie House you see on TV! Hey ho, You know who'll be playing with the doll's house now don't you? Happy Christmas x

Sharing

Just this week, a very dear friend of mine lost her husband to cancer,  and just like John, his condition was diagnosed as terminal at the very first consultation. However, my friend and her husband had very little time to acclimatise to the enormity of the situation. He was only "given" a couple of months, unlike John, who was given 3 years... but sadly,  once again the medical bods were pretty spot on.

Over the last 2 months, my friend and I have shared wine and coffees, many of both, talking deeply about symptoms, treatments, feelings, fear, joy, anger and love. It has been a hellish time for my friend and a very mixed time for me. It has brought a lot of my feelings and fears to the surface once again, and has brought back many memories, some hilarious, but more painful..... One night I went to bed so confused, (was it the wine, I hear you ask?!.... ) that I dreamt that my friend was talking about my husband instead of her own, but wasn't letting me see him. 

Oddly,  my  overriding feeling, apart from that of deep sadness for her loss,  is one of richness and sharing. I can honestly say I never really imagined myself a widow, nor did I ever think I would become knowledgeable about certain cancer treatments, but I am grateful for the gifts of an empathetic ear, a certain level of understanding and a large box of tissues which  I was able to share with her... We never know when our paths will take us on very tough routes and then bring us right back again, but if we can share these things, unasked for as they might be, then the sharp angles soften a bit.