Agnes Stevenson on the art of topiary
Gardening trends come and go but don’t be fooled, warns our expert Agnes Stevenson. While some are worthy others, sadly, belong in the compost heap
The foxgloves are in full flower at the moment, towering over everything else in the garden like tall sentries. I don’t grow any of the fancy kinds, in fact I don’t cultivate foxgloves at all, but still they find their way here, seeding themselves into damp soil and sprouting from between the gaps in stonework. Growing in the latter position they are like bonsai versions of their true selves, producing small and delicate spires but never reaching the impressive dimensions of those in more favourable spots. Foxgloves are this summer’s most fashionable flower. They were everywhere at the Chelsea Flower Show and foxglove mania has gripped the gardening press.They have taken over the style crown from the lupin. There’s nothing wrong with adding a bit of pzazz to your garden and it can be fun to take a fresh look at a familiar plant that’s been suddenly thrust into the glare of attention. I’ve been tracking trends in gardening for decades. The first to come to my attention was back in the 1990s when Verbascum “Helen Johnson” became the toast of fashionable gardens, celebrated for its coppery-pink flowers. And it is still a lovely thing, but now it’s often sold with the
epithet “shortlived”, suggesting it wasn’t without its issues. It’s the same story with alliums. “I’ve planted dozens and they’ve all disappeared”, is a comment I hear frequently. Grasses are in a category all of their own. I was unconvinced by their charms and, after seeing countless tatty remnants of the craze, I’m glad I never went in for them. The same goes for prairie planting. In the hands of an expert it can be masterful. But in Scotland’s wet and windy climate, in soil that’s as heavy as concrete, the whole thing can easily be battered flat. And don’t get me started on the time my lupins were over-run with filthy lupin aphids. It was the gardening equivalent of the Zombie apocalypse. I’m not convinced either by Flamingo willow trees or hydrangeas with electric-blue bracts. But some plants do live up to their hype. Anemone “Wild Swan”, bred by Elizabeth MacGregor Nursery in Kirkcudbright, is outstanding and Geum “Totally Tangerine”, for several years a mainstay of Chelsea, has earned its spurs. But that still leaves a lot of fashionable flowers whose only useful place in the garden is on the compost heap.