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Ode to Sempervivum (Plants I Never Thought I'd Like)
Written and
illustrated by Abbie Zabar, © 2010
 I've got a tiny give-and-take rooftop garden on the Upper East
Side where, according to a recent
report my neighborhood wins--hands down--for the highest levels of air
pollution in New York City.
But if I
seem cranky, it's more because all this Sturm
und Drang with potted plants feels like second-class citizen gardening. Then,
just when I was again thinking container gardening has taken a bum rap, the New
York Times informs us--right after this year's vernal equinox--gardening in
containers is a billion-dollar-a-year retail business. Or, I'll remember a pair
of wired and rescued terra cotta jardinières at Sissinghurst Castle planted
with dwarf white Marguerite daisies (Argyranthemum frutescens), and a homemade fix
like that assures me I have plenty in common with a world-class backyard.
Still, I
live in a city where a basement storage unit sells for $800,000 and so we
become expert at maximizing any soot-filled square inch. I know a gardener who
trains hyacinth runner beans (Lablab
purpureus), up Time Warner cable lines because here's an annual vine that
does twenty-feet in a single season. When I plant Sweet Autumn Clematis, (Clematis paniculata), I angle their
root balls under my Holy Trinity of Washington Hawthorns, (Crataegus phaenopyrum), making it a walk in the park for clinging
tendrils to get a grip on nearby ribbon wire fencing. You want a city garden?
Then you're going to learn about appreciation of assets. From the get-go I
suggest start capitalizing on crevices and dirt-collecting gaps.
An
encouraging fortune cookie once read, "Adversity is the source of your
strength." It put the kibosh on any self-pity, as well. The truth is we all
garden in spite of the odds and at times I even feel blessed: no deer up here.
My Sempervivum are making a show of it
just in time for the Fourth of July. Starry little flowers double as
mini-firecrackers, popping up on bizarre thickened stalks called 'peduncles,' across a terrain of
monocarpic rosettes. I grow masses
and masses of these cluster-forming succulents--clearly enough to host a
British National Collection--even named varieties, though that means nothing
to me. Sempervivum are a genus of the
Crassulaceae family and because they easily propagate by lateral offsets around
the mother plant like 'hens and chicks'--their common name--there are
millions of cultivars out there.
I grow "Semps" not
because I love them or their exotic-looking blooms, but because way before
green roofs were headlines, I thought it was neat how this low-lying ornamental
vegetation knitted into bits of grit on top of exposed roofing membrane,
without any effort on my part. Who needs flowers when rosettes come in fleshy
pinks, smoky lavenders, green, blue, bronze, and royal velvet maroons? In fact,
I'll cut off every last juicy flowering stalk and set them up in bud vases
around my apartment. Since no one yet is selling 'Fleurs des Semps' in the 28th
Street Flower Market, or coating them in sugar syrup as they do with candied
violets from Toulouse, perhaps I'm doubly ahead of the curve.
Like pigeons,
Sempervivum are equally at home above the city on parapets where a wind chill
factor can take the temperature down to zero but, come summer, the same outpost
reaches one hundred degrees from sun reflecting off
surrounding brick walls. Their natural habitats are mountainous regions
of Europe, across Morocco, Turkey, the Balkans, extending into Iran, even the
northeastern part of the Sahara Desert. Mimic motherland conditions and Semps
are off and running. Remember, the name "Sempervivum," has its origin in the Latin Semper
("always") and vivus("living"); and because this perennial stores water in its succulent
leaves--allowing them to colonize sunny rocks and stony places--the plants
will tolerate tricky climates while keeping the architecture of their rosette
forms in winter. They certainly are a 'keeper' up here, weaving their roots
into a quick draining, crushed roofing slag that's similar to the recycled
rubble you see on highway paving jobs. No need to blow the budget on designer
gravels.
I'll take my
Sempervivum lying down, as a Persian carpet in an al
fresco setting; or straight up, embedded into the elegant dry rock walls
of a Hudson Valley estate where I began planting them last summer. But for over
a decade I've set these babies into locally salvaged, power chiseled-out NYC
cobblestones. And it is in these small troughs--shamelessly flush with humble
Sempervivum--that a genus of modest plants appears remarkably resilient and
tough as a modern species of Homo sapiens, commonly called New Yorkers.
To confer beauty on
the everyday, the plain, simple, and underappreciated--that's what I find challenging.
To take the ordinary and make it extraordinary, to see a run-of-the-mill
houseplant flowering in a barber shop window, or to cultivate a bejeweled
tapestry of Sempervivums--often considered 'poor man's alpines'--where
nothing grows because the substrate is soot, what more can you ask for?
ABBIE ZABAR is an artist, writer and designer; when all
else fails, she gardens. Her drawings are part of the permanent collection of
the Hunt Institute for Botanical Documentation, one of the foremost resources
of botanical art in the world. She has written, illustrated and designed five
books, 2.5 of them on gardening. Abbie is a member of the Manhattan Chapter of
NARGS and writes about gardening as an ongoing urban challenge.
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The Panicle Hydrangea
By Jed
Duguid
Plants, like
everything else, go in and out of style. A couple of current hot trends are Echinacea and Hydrangea macrophylla cultivars. They seem to have usurped the
bench and bed space that Buddleia, Caryopteris, and Hemerocallis used to dominate in nurseries and gardens just a
couple of years back. I'd rather talk about the plants that are almost
always, but not quite, in vogue; plants that perhaps at one time were near the
top of every gardener's lust list and still are today. Genera that were highly
fashionable during the era of Victorian gardening such as Viburnum, Ilex, Buxus and Rhododendron are as popular today, even without millions of
dollars of marketing behind them. Perhaps it's because their popularity a
century and a half ago helped people realize just how versatile they can be in
the landscape, and gave them the staying power they have. Or maybe it's because
there are still vestiges of that time in and around gardens to this day. One
such remnant, I believe, is what keeps us constantly drawn to Hydrangea paniculata and its cultivars.
Every year in mid-summer, you can't help but notice the old, mostly Hydrangea paniculata 'Grandiflora'
tree-forms or possibly shrubs gone wild. It is this old cultivar from which the
common name of Pee Gee hydrangea came. Now Pee Gee Hydrangea seems to refer to
almost any of the panicle hydrangeas. And what a superbly versatile group they
are. There are some newer cultivars with a good deal of marketing behind them,
so I'll stay away from those for this article, to tell you about a couple older
and some newer that are deserving of at least equal attention.
 'Pink
Diamond' has been around now for about 15 years and continues to please. Very
large white panicles, up to 12" long fade to pink by late summer and a very
rich deep pink by the cooler days of autumn. Because it is a good mix of the
sterile flowers as well as the showier sepals, the flowers stay upright and
don't hang down like 'Grandiflora.' Its habit is typical for the species
becoming a large shrub upwards of 8-10' tall with a similar spread. Clean green
foliage covers the stems until the flowers emerge, becoming the focal point of
the plant the earlier half of July. Once pink, and the following is true of
most Pee Gees, the spent flowers continue to be an attractive part of the plant
until very late fall.
 'Dharuma,' my
favorite, is a well-behaved dwarf form with a truly tidy habit. Its flowers are
a fraction the size of many other cultivars, but because of its smaller stature
you don't need to plant it in the back of the border or yard. Having it in the
perennial border, even with its smaller, almost-flattened blooms, you can
appreciate them up close; 4'x4' is expected for this vertically-challenged
grower.
Vanilla Strawberry™ looks delicious. Bailey Nurseries, who brought us Endless Summer® have recently
introduced this tasty-sounding plant from France. Large heads, composed of
mostly the sterile florets, continue to push through the summer, creating an
unusual effect of pure white blooms, while at the same time having flowers that
are through the various stages of pink or apropos its name, strawberry.
Bailey's is suggesting a height of 6-7' but I suspect otherwise. Perhaps a bit
closer to where most of them grow, if given the opportunity, is upward of 10
feet.
Whichever cultivar
suits your fancy, there is definitely one for every garden. Used in the shrub
border, they stand out for a solid six months. Or plant one on its own as tree
form, or a large shrub as a focal point. I personally would like to see more
trained into multi-stemmed tree forms. Grow them in sun, or even with a half
day of shade, and they'll be happy. They are the most cold-hardy hydrangeas,
which also makes them perfect candidates for putting into pots and urns, if one
so desired. And though they might grow quite large if given the chance, you can
cut the panicle hydrangeas back any time from autumn through mid-spring, and
still be assured you'll have a fantastic display of flowers summer through
autumn. While panicle hydrangeas may be in general somewhat blowzy, their
texture is indispensible for highlighting the delicate and finer textured shrubs
and perennials that fill our borders. Even Oliver's keeps me around. While the
panicle hydrangeas might not be the big trend right now, their hardiness,
versatility and long bloom should ensure them a place on everyone's wish list.
And after all, where is the hottest trend going to be in a couple of years?
Personally, I prefer staying power.
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The Aleutian Bellflower
 By Lori
Chips
From time to time, as a rock gardener, and as a writer about
rock gardens, I feel moved to highlight a particular alpine plant with a
portrait. Campanula chamissonis, which until recently was known as C.
pilosa dasyantha, is a wonderful bellflower, happy in a stony, raised bed
or in a good-sized trough. It wants full to partial sun and fertile soil, but
it will not tolerate wet feet.
This is a deciduous campanula, which means that no foliage
will be showing above ground in winter; the spoon-shaped, slightly-toothed
foliage appears in the spring. A rhizomatous mat of very glossy, emerging
leaves, just begins our anticipation for the luscious blooms to come in May and
June. The violet-blue chalices are lightly fringed with fine hairs, and often
have white markings inside. The flowers are quite large for the size of the
plant, and last for several weeks.
I am curious about the lack of fanfare accorded to this
campanula, given its beauty, and I don't often see it in other people's
gardens. Perhaps it remains unsung because it is relatively unassuming in a
4-inch pot on the sales bench. It is a spreading plant, but it does so slowly
and evenly via short stolons. It cannot even remotely be considered invasive.
It is easy to divide in spring; just pull it apart as it starts into growth
just as the baby leaves begin to unfurl. Hailing from Alaska, Japan and, you
guessed it, the Aleutian Islands, Campanula chamissonis deserves to be
better known.
Illustration © Lori Chips, 2010
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The North American Rock Garden Society
NARGS is
for gardening enthusiasts interested in alpine, saxatile, and low-growing
perennials. It encourages the study and cultivation of wildflowers that grow
well among rocks, whether such plants originate above tree line or at lower
elevations. Through its publications, meetings, and garden visits, NARGS
provides extensive opportunities for both beginners and experts to expand their
knowledge of plant cultivation and propagation, and of construction,
maintenance, and design of special interest gardens. NARGS, organized in 1934, currently has
approximately 2,650 members in the United States, Canada, and 30 other nations.
For more
information about the North American Rock Garden Society, visit their website
at: www.nargs.org or contact them at:
North American
Rock Garden Society
Bobby Ward,
Executive Secretary
PO Box 18604
Raleigh, NC 27619-8604
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 For more information visit our Web site at www.olivernurseries.com, or call us at 203-259-5609.
Image in header: Detail from Spring, engraving by Bruegel. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Dick Fund, 1926.
Copyright 2010 Oliver Nurseries
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