Why your garden needs structure
Strong, solid accents anchor the seasonal party plants, and offer us visual pleasure even when the floral and soft have gone to bed for the winter. Julia Atkinson-Dunn reports.
As a beginner, I viewed gardens as a whole. I’d take in the big picture and it either felt appealing or not. It was only by visiting gardens throughout the seasons that I began to see past my favourite bits (the soft, floaty and floral), to appreciate the grounding features that prevented the planting from reading as a Liberty print.
It slowly dawned on me that a garden struggles to take its viewer on a journey without the helping hand of structural elements.
Strong, solid accents that anchor the seasonal party plants to a space, and offer us visual pleasure even when the floral and soft have gone to bed for the winter.
The structural elements of a garden could be considered its bones. Constructed pieces like paved or dressed pathways, raised planters, solid bed edging, trellis, arches, fences or pots; or natural features like hedging, topiary and trees.
These are the constants of an outdoor space, the bedrock essentials that exist all year round. During the growing seasons, many might disappear into the background, only to become the stars of the show in the winter months.
When I recall our inherited garden on the first day we moved in, five-and-a-half years ago, really it was only about structure. With little perennial planting, the previous owners had focused on strong evergreen options that were mostly static year-round, with very few seasonal surprises.
With a heavy hand I removed much of this and, in hindsight, think it was only luck that I didn’t squander all of the slower-growing plants that have proven vital in the overall ‘‘experience’’ of my garden now.
As I have flooded every inch I can with my collected perennials, I have also found myself adding strength back in too. The raised brick planter at the end of the lawn was built to capture the sun and retain a new bed for planting.
Most recently, we have added a second raised planter and newly expanded beds edged in brick, to lead the eye through from the brick-paved back porch, and connect all parts of the garden.
Brick was a natural choice given my husband is a bricklayer, but also by keeping introduced materials to a simple few and repeating their use, I have been able to tell a visual story that threads through this little space.
When considering structure in my garden now, I find much of my focus is around juxtaposition. Hard versus soft, smooth versus textural, uniform versus organic.
When my garden is in full bloom, the solid fence and raised beds create separation for the somewhat wild planting.
The simple wooden fence, topped with trellis, is stained dark, drawing attention down from my neighbours’ roofs and providing a dramatic backdrop highlighting glossy greens, floral colour, fiery autumn leaves and wispy seedheads.
The value of the lawn as a structural element could probably be argued.
Initially, all beds were mapped out around the edges of the yard with traditional straight lines and a fairly standard balance of lawn outweighing garden.
However, with our recent changes of reclaiming lawn by expanding beds and defining them with swooping strong edges, the remaining grassy space now has a sense of flow.
Its soft curve pulls you off into the garden where it pools in a wider space under the cherry tree before circling off around the central raised planter at the end.
The lawn is now here to work for the garden, instead of the garden politely keeping guard at its edges.
When it comes to organic structure it’s easy to instantly think hedges. My inherited buxus hedging at the front of the house is coming out this winter, as I continue to chase the urge to be a little more playful with my permanent plant features.
Topiary balls have become a firm favourite. Their smooth surfaces add an interesting contrast to the rigid edges of the brick and the softness of my seasonal planting.
I have dotted them through the beds like comical full stops or, at the very least, a moment for the eye to rest amid the sparse winter or chaotic summer.
I have even let one bounce out of the garden to perch on the lawn, breaking up for a moment the smoothing leading lines of the bed edges and green of the grass.
And then there are the trees. Despite removing many over the years, the trees I have retained now have room to breathe and space to shine as
This is the time to consider how you might improve the hardworking skeleton of your space, stocktake your mix of materials and look for spots you can boost interest.
important structure in my space. Just before writing this, I was admiring the large, old cherry and the intriguing twisted shadows it leaves across the lawn in the low winter sun.
In spring, it brings pom-poms of popcorn blossom, in summer grateful shade under which we gather constantly, and in autumn its large broad leaves burst into flame.
It is perhaps the most important and engaging element of organic structure on the whole property.
With more trees to buy and plant, I am on a hunt for specimens that offer seasonal interest and a natural maturing form that I feel will complement the vibe of what I am creating.
So, I urge you to take this wintery opportunity to gauge the effectiveness of the structure in your garden.
This is the time to consider how you might improve the hardworking skeleton of your space, stocktake your mix of materials and look for spots you can boost interest.
Julia Atkinson-Dunn is the writer and creative behind Studio Home. @studiohomegardening, studiohome.co.nz