2 June 2005
Rome
I braved the Republic Day holiday traffic this morning and nipped down to La Landriana (http://www.giardinidellalandriana.it/) for the ŅCounty LivingÓ fair. I shouldnÕt have bothered. Though the garden fairs held twice a year in that Russell Page creation in the flatlands of southern Lazio are always worthwhile, this was a desultory collection of mainly uninteresting garden knicknacks and furniture I wouldnÕt want in any garden that I had anything to do with. With some exceptions.
Terracotta pot maker Ugo Poggi (http://www.poggiugo.it/) has introduced a line of simple, large, pared-back pots in glorious organic-y shades of green and violet-blue and so on. And Siarco (http://www.siarco.it/) Š a metal-working outfit based in Pomezia south of Rome Š is still expanding its remarkably inexpensive line of furniture and accessories for external use.
Feebly perhaps, I didnÕt bother to go into the garden proper. As I drove back to Rome, through some lovely bits of surviving campagna romana along the by-then-deserted via Laurentina, I kind of regretted it. But my last visit to the garden had been such a let-down. The first time I went there, when the formidable Lavinia Taverna was alive and kicking and very much in command in this little paradise that she and Page wrangled so bitterly over for so many years, it was a place that exuded her passion. After she died, so did her spirit within the garden. For all that it remains a pleasant enough place, it was somehow less characterful. I may have gone in today had I not stumbled across the childrenÕs farm they have now set up there. I think that was the final straw: an insult to the memory of the principessa, whose garden was always a personal, rather than a crowd-pleasing, delight. She must be turning in her grave.
Then again, I may simply
have skipped this particular garden because IÕm all greened out after week
of research for an article on lesser-known 20th century gardens of Umbria
and Tuscany that IÕm writing for Conde Nast Traveller. Well, to tell the truth
La Foce Š a glorious pre-war creation by English architect Cecil Ross Pinsent
Š is not all that little-known, and IÕve certainly done my bit to publicise
it because for me it is one of central ItalyÕs gems. But the others were more
obscure: the neo-metaphysical folly created at La Scarzuola near Montegabbione
by architect Tommaso Buzzi; the simply
charming scupture garden
of Swiss artist Daniel Spoerri in Seggiano; and American artistÕs labour of
love, Il Bosco della Ragnaia in San Giovanni dÕAsso in the lower, poorer part
of the Chianti area. (Photos)
Scupture gardens are all the rage at the moment but SpoerriÕs came as a surprise. From descriptions I had expected it to be more monumental, more art-on-a-pedestal. In fact, it is heart-warming. The works Š many of which were not, apparently, even conceived with this particular setting in mind Š just go. It was very hot and very humid when I visited but I couldnÕt help dragging myself around the many acres where sculptural surprises leapt out at you from all kinds of unexpected nooks. ThereÕs a sense of humour about the place.
The Ragnaia, I was pleased to see, had grown. Last time I was there was August 16 last year. We had been to a wonderful concert and after-concert dance the previous evening and were still feeling somewhat delicate by the time we happened across this well-hidden paradise. Deep in a thick wood of Quercus ilex (holm oak), this is a private garden with no fence, where visitors are encouraged. Alabaman artist Sheppard Craige Š a charmingly soft-spoken man with a knee-weakening southern-gentleman accent Š built it himself, with the help of local youth forcibly dragged by him away from the videogames in the local bar. There are works by Craige himself scattered here and there amid the cool green of the place, but they are merely elements in the place, rather than the whole point. When we last visited, Craige was almost satisfied with his shade garden and was moving out into the light. Now the bare hillside alongside the wood sports a theatrical arrangement of dotted holm oaks and tiers of Teucrium fruticans Š one of my favourite plants. ItÕs all recently planted and very stark. Another year should see it come good.
And the hotel garden that IÕve been working so hard on (Work in Progress)? ItÕs done. Oh the joy of having a client that doesnÕt mind if I use plants that have yet to grow into their rightful places. No pronto effetto here, though the large stretches of prato pronto Š pre-grown turf Š certainly help to give it a finished look.
The commentators, for whom my garden efforts were better than any cinema, broke down into retired males during the day and motley youth after dark. From daytime watchers along the wall I got advice, warnings, disbelief that the lawn was real, and one offer of marriage. The evening audience was less chatty but equally as observant. It now remains to be seen whether IÕll win my challenge and succeed in steering the Ligustrum ovalifolium trees along the wall safely into becoming an off-the-ground privet hedgeÉ or whether the wall-perchers will do for them before my aim is achieved.