Take a seat
There’s deep enjoyment in sitting in a garden, and as MICHAEL McCOY has discovered, the question of where, and on what, boils down to a few key things
Ihad to be taught to sit in a garden. For me, gardens were never about sitting. They were about working. About engaging. About staying moving. But then I met a gardener – an active, engaged gardener – who had a genius for sitting. There were long afternoons, extending into evenings, when we’d sit around in her ‘herbie’ (a herbaceous perennial border that snaked around you, and swallowed you up in its abundance) while a continuous stream of pots of tea, bottles of wine, and hot and cold food flowed from a big old country kitchen. Time stretched. It stood still. And I grew addicted.
After years of fine-tuning my sitting skills, it’s become clear that the question of where to sit, and on what, boils down to a few key considerations. Here are my observations.
where DO YOU WANT TO SIT?
There are a few guiding principles about where any one of us will want to sit in a garden. First and foremost, we’ll want to be out of the wind. When my wife and I are deciding where to head with a coffee or a G&T, the first thing we ascertain is where the wind is coming from, and head for the downwind side of the house. Being on a rather open site, the house is our most effective windbreak, and what has become evident is that as long as we’re out of the wind, it’s possible to sit outside comfortably in quite low temperatures.
On the other hand, by the time the temperature hits about 22°C, you’ll be seeking protection from the sun. That’s hard to believe, but long years of sitting have shown that our tolerance for full sunshine, when sitting, is remarkably low.
In a garden with only one place to sit, bowering it with a deciduous climber is a great way to provide sunshine in winter and shade in summer. (Some of the suggestions in our story about fragrant climbers are deciduous. Turn to page 14.)
Garden owners with huge views always imagine they’ll want to sit outside with the view spread out before them. They never do. They nearly always default to a cosy, intimate spot once they’re outdoors. That partly comes back to seeking a wind-free site, but it’s also associated, I think, with a primal craving for protection or refuge.
AND Oh WHAT?
Then there’s the question of what you’re sitting on. I’m a big fan of loose, single chairs that can be moved about, as they are in French parks. So you can move them into sunshine or shade, and organise them so that if you’re with a group, you’re facing in a conversation-friendly way. Benches, on the other hand, are at least as much about being looked at as being sat on. As a focal point in the garden, particularly at the end of a long vista, there’s nothing like them. They provide rest to the eye, and the promise of rest for the legs, should you walk that way. But they’re not great for conversation, as they force everyone to face in the same direction. That can work with two people – one at each end – but it gets really awkward with three or more. The best benches for conversation are those that fold around at the ends, but that’s getting pretty fancy.
AND Around WHAT?
Linked to the style of seating is the consideration of what, if anything, you’re sitting around. My current thinking is that the classic rectangular outdoor dining table is vastly overrated, and the small, round cafe table with two or three chairs is
equally underrated. I’d happily take a coffee outside every day, but I’m only going to occasionally dine outside. And when I’m sitting with a tumbler, glass, cup or bottle of something, I’m happier sitting side-on than front-on. Ideally, the drink is on my right side (I’m right-handed), and my legs are stretched out, unimpeded, in front of me.
TO look at OR LOOK THROUGH?
While style has a large bearing on the appeal of seating, so does the material of which it is made. Stone benches provide a wonderful sense of stability, but are rarely comfortable to sit on for any length of time. Cast iron can be just as cold, but can also be scaldingly hot. Its visual weight, however, means it always looks solid and strong. Timber, on the other hand, is a poor conductor of heat, so it always feels warmish, or at least neutral, to sit on, and has a nice sense of ‘give’. Steel mesh has a lovely transparent buoyancy, and it drains well. (Although I sat on such a seat after rain the other day, and discovered that every one of its multiple perforations held a drop of water, which very effectively ‘wicked’ up into my trousers – and just before a meeting.)
Whether you’re after seating that looks transparent or solid will depend, to some extent, upon placement. Furniture is often located near the house – on a deck, for instance – in the foreground of a garden view. In such a situation, something light and see-through can be a great advantage. The same furniture in the background of that view would, against diverse planting, be rendered virtually invisible. So that’s when something with a bit of chunkiness or natural solidity works best.
cushions OR NOT?
Cushions are a big deal these days with the arrival of fabulous weatherproof fabrics. Though durable, they are not unaffected by algae in shady spots, dust or bird droppings. When they’re likely to be unused for a time, consider storing them, which you need to do with cushions of natural fibre. This is nearly always an issue, as outdoor storage often results in mildew or musty smells. I’d rather choose a bench or chair that didn’t need cushions, but I admit there’s nothing like them for adding a sparkle of colour, and to make a seat particularly inviting.