Your fave celeb might have a green thumb
Gardeners are boring, right? People who don’t garden (i.e. most of the population) tend to dismiss us as silly old codgers, who toss around words like “variegated” and “biennial” and love showing off our knowledge of Latin.
That, at least, is what happens in North America. Actor Michael Caine found this out on an American TV talk show when he announced his intention to give up living in California.
“I want to garden and grow roses,” he declared. “So I’m moving back to England.”
“What? You mean, you like gardening?” spluttered the host, laughing.
“Yes,” Caine went on, undaunted. “My mum gardened. She grew fabulous roses. And you can’t grow roses in L.A., can you?”
The host’s condescending reaction (he clearly had no idea if roses grew in La La Land or not), speaks volumes about the gulf that exists between attitudes to gardening here and on the other side of the Atlantic.
Caine is, of course, a Brit, and in the U.K. even if you’re poor (as his Cockney mom was), it’s taken for granted that you garden, because, well, everybody does. And if you don’t right now — because you live in a shoebox, with no space for even a pot of basil — you’ll undoubtedly get into growing things one day.
Thus, there’s nothing shocking about a celebrity announcing on TV that he wants to plant roses. On the contrary, that kind of talk is as much part of the British social fabric as their endless cups of tea.
This cultural divide is also borne out in a lavish new coffee table tome called The Secret Gardeners: Britain’s Creatives Reveal Their Private Sanctuaries.
A well-connected photographer, Hugo Rittson Thomas, managed to persuade a long list of celebrities to open up their ritzy hideaways in the U.K. to him — and the results are quite revealing.
Who knew that Sting loves gardening and grows his own fruit and vegetables? Or that Jeremy Irons once worked in horticulture? Or that transplanted American Ozzy Osbourne (yes, that creepy guy in black with the ghastly reality TV show) maintains a magnificent garden in Buckinghamshire where his wife, Sharon, likes nothing more than deadheading the flowers?
I didn’t, and the surprising photos of British gardens belonging to such international stars (plus their pro- fessed enthusiasm for getting their hands dirty) certainly contradict the widely held North American notion that gardeners are dull folks, who lead uninteresting lives.
Of course, the people Rittson features aren’t really like the rest of us. They’re stinking rich, can afford estate managers and gardeners, and clearly don’t do much of the grunt work. Nonetheless, this is an entertaining book. A few other snippets: Dishy actor Rupert Everett (star of many period dramas) recently took over his Mom’s gorgeous garden in Stratford on Avon because, he says, “I’ve reached the age when I prefer gardening to sex.”
Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason, who collects classic Ferraris and Jaguars, displays these cars in his rose-filled Wiltshire garden once a year to raise money for charity.
Jeremy Irons took gardening jobs in London before becoming an actor. He doesn’t like the “tidy” look, loves ponds and keeps an old wooden canoe in one of them. Despite that upper class accent, Irons isn’t a snob, either. He regularly mingles with local gardeners and hands out prizes at horticultural shows.
One drawback to The Secret Gardeners is that there are too many photos. I found them overwhelming. Fewer, with a more exciting layout, would have improved the book. Also the text, by Victoria Summerley, contains some good stuff, but she tends to gush annoyingly about her celebrity subjects. Still, if you have a gardener buddy who gets exasperated by that “boring” label — and who loves peeking into the lives of the rich and famous — this book would make a great Christmas gift. I just wish Michael Caine was in it. Published by Frances Lincoln, it costs about $60. soniaday.com