Gardens by Kelly Productions

Hello from Nashville, Tennessee!  I can’t believe how long it seems since I last wrote you all a note.  The last month or so have consumed me with work, research, and writing beyond my website.  I have tried to write a little from time to time, but unsurprisingly my dissatisfaction with the weather jaded my words.  I’ve not had anything nice to say about winter this year (not that I usually do), so I spared us all the misery.

I’m in the heart of the south this weekend for two lectures at the University of Tennessee Master Gardener Leadership Conference on the future of gardening and how master gardener programs can attract new recruits.  Looking forward to sharing in a positive, progressive, and forward-looking discussion tomorrow with eager-eyed master gardeners and coordinators tomorrow!

But today I got to play hooky with my buddy Troy Marden, highly respected garden designer and hortiholic here in these parts.  Troy and I planned an outing to Shadow Nursery, the home of the inimitable Don Shadow.  At 55 degrees and sunny, we couldn’t have asked for a better day to follow along in the shadow of the man himself, hanging off every southern-twanged word and taking note of each great new plant we came across.  Here’s a few things I you really must see:

Acer palmatum ‘Bihou’
This Japanese maple boasts a glowy, coral-tinted bark that reminds me why, despite my fervent dislike of winter, I love winter gardens.  With bark like this, how could you go wrong?  No idea if this would be one of the few lucky Japanese maples that could survive in the hinter north, but we may just have to give it a shot and report back.  I’m always up for knocking off a few plants on behalf of the horticultural mafia.

Hamamelis vernalis ‘Amethyst’
Don found this in a Netherlands nursery, named it, and started selling this unique, floriferous clone of the Ozarks witch hazel several years ago.  Two are in a UPS box bound for Ames, IA and my greenhouse!

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Magic Fire’
One of the highlights of the trip I love witch hazels, and probably haven’t found one that I couldn’t live without.  Don’s amassed quite a collection in an effort to breed and select the best witch hazels for the southeast.  Seemingly lacquered in redness, this cultivar called ‘Magic Fire’ lured me in for a closer look.

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Quasimodo’
A DWARF witch hazel!  Superb!  Just think what the container gardening people will do when they get their dirty hands on this one?

Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Treasure Island’
Boy did I have drool running down my lips when I saw this.  A treasured feast for the eyes indeed, these bright frilly flowers are quite large for most witch hazels at over 2″ across.  You won’t miss this one!

Nandina domestica ‘Sasaba Compacta’
I must admit, at the fear and threat of heresy, that I’m not generally head-over-heals for Nandina.  Meh, I say.  Maybe in my travels afield, I see them ad nauseum, the McDonald’s foundation planting of the south and west.  Plus, we can’t reliably winter them in Zone 5 nor enjoy much of a fruit set.  Beyond that, what’s the point?  But here’s one I did squeal about.  ’Sasaba Compacta’ not only sports “willow-like leaves” (as Don describes it) but carries a heavy coat of red color from autumn well into February.  Truly spectacular and just the kind of sore thumb you’d want to put streetside in your front yard garden.  Make an impact!

Nandina domestica ‘Tamahime’
Yet another Nandina that I was twisting and shouting about today.  This is a cultivar in the Kinshi group, known for their filiform foliage.  Green forms, red forms, the whole plant is unbelievably bizarre and a definite talking piece.  I kept walking past the block of them photographing each one, ooh-ing and aah-ing, and dreaming of how freakin’ awesome it would be to grow these.

Nyssa sylvatica ‘Zydeco Twist’
If you’re familiar with black gums, you know they’ve got three great things going for them: a) RED fall color that will set off alarms, b) ability to tolerate wet and dry feet with seeming ease, and c) call the U.S. home.  But add to that list contorted stems and you’ve just described the aptly named cultivar ‘Zydeco Twist’.

READ BEFORE READING:

{My recent interview with Ken Druse jostled my thoughts again relative to the topic of “the future” as it relates to communication and this passion of ours called gardening.  I don’t pretend for a minute to have all or any of the answers, and you know what they say about free “advice”.  I promise the next post will be something plant-related.  We need some relief from the doldrums, right?}

I just heard Craig Ferguson on his CBS late night TV show say this in reference to newspapers.  He’s implying of course that blogs basically substitute for newspapers.  But do they?  Now I’m not a likely defender of a business as lamely stifling as newspapers, but Craig’s caper of sorts deserves exploration.

As bloggers, we must really have the world duped.  Do blogs really suffice for the kind of journalism relied on and expected for generations in a format like newspapers?  Not hardly.  But is the point of a blog to really transmit news?  Some blogs do of course, particularly those kept by prominent columnists or newspaper writers.  They become subsidiaries of the larger publishing machine, transmitting early leads or insights that later formulate into full-blown stories.  But most blogs really are idea platforms, and only that, existing as the result of passive, fragmented consumption.  They give some writers 15-minutes of fame, offer popular authors a chance to keep in touch with audience members in a more personal way, and still offer more a chance to push agendas to the masses–even the 10 or so who choose to listen.  And while bloggers enjoy support en masse (that whole community idea), their demise comes from an overcrowded room.  Right now, particularly in the gardening realm, little oxygen remains in that room.  When a form of content delivery continues to fragment the market, it’s time for reconciliation.  A new mall only needs so many shoe stores before someone has to give.

So what next?  How does an oversaturated market correct itself?  In the world of real, tangible products and stuff, things start to disappear.  In the iris world for example, almost 50,000 cultivars have entered the marketplace in the last 100 years.  How many are left in existence?  Probably 10-15% or less.  How many are left and really popular, frequently sold, or grown in more than five gardens?  Probably 3-5%.  So let’s replace irises with gardening blogs in that analogy.  Nobody is mandating that bad, inactive, infrequently updated, or poorly written blogs disappear for the sake of others.  Anyone is entitled to share their opinions.  But who listens?

That’s where this whole mess runs astray.  Who listens and reads?  Who cares?  And more importantly, why do those people listen, read, and care?  Does a blog entertain?  Does it stimulate thought?  Does it deliver content that more than five readers want to read?  While blogs and other online media have unlocked the gates of publishing to all, they’ve also systematically unraveled standards of excellence.  No venture (whether market, business, hobby, etc.) has ever operated successfully in the absence of governing standards of excellence–they’re natural products of human-mediated enterprises that result when poor-quality products are perceived the same way as good-quality products.  My prediction, crystal ball firmly in tow, is that blogs will eventually become major powerhouses of content because the few that will remain post-excellence apocalypse will maintain tribal followings of people who demand and expect content produced and delivered in superior ways.  How do you think newspapers like the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and the Washington Post still exist, even in this turmoil that publishing is in?

So how do those blogs exist pre-excellence apocalypse?  They impose those standards of excellence on themselves, rise above current expectations,  bond with their followers, and teach them to dream.  When people enter the business of teaching people to dream, the market drives itself.  Look at the success of Apple, for example.  One company has effectively inspired its clients (and those that aren’t yet) to dream of the possibilities.  If newspapers, blogs, and books inspired their readers to dream of the possibilities of their product (not just how it’s delivered), we wouldn’t even be having this discussion.

Really, all this is just a mantra for how to do business in this day and age…..any business.

Hey readers!

Here’s a quick plug for one of my favorite gardening podcast/radio shows….ever.  Ken Druse Real Dirt is hosted by THE Ken Druse of authorial and photographic fame.  Ken’s most recent book is the beautifully illustrated Planthropology. He garnered international acclaim with his 1988 book The Natural Garden and many others thereafter.

Ken was gracious enough to invite me on his show this week.  Check out the interview on his website.  We cover a lot of ground including irises, zoneworthy plants, and the future of gardening.  Feel free to comment and post feedback!  I’m planning a follow-up blog on some of the topics we discussed later next week.

Please consider subscribing to Ken’s podcast as well.  With lots of great information and interviews, his podcast has always been one of my favorites (gotta love his radio voice too!)

Best!

Greetings from frigid Iowa!

My heartfelt thanks to the 100 plus attendees of my lecture “ZoneWorthy: Underused Plants for Zones 4 & 5″ at the Des Moines Botanical Center this morning.  It’s always great to start a new year of lecturing activities with an energized, inquisitive local crowd.  To check out the slate of upcoming lectures, click over to my calendar.  If I’m in your neighborhood, give me a shout!  I’ve got a few engagements to add to that calendar, but it’s up-to-date for the most part.

For more information about my Zoneworthy concept checkout www.zoneworthy.com, a redirect to plant profiles from this blog.  In 2010, I plan to launch a standalone website that will serve as a conduit of information for people intrigued and engaged by the Zoneworthy concept.  Look for updates and changes!  Also feel free to download copies of my handouts and view my Powerpoint lecture on the Handouts and Downloads page.

Everyone seems to be talking about movements today, including me.  In the 21st century, movements sell.  Political parties bank on movements, tidal waves of change in hearts and minds.  Movie producers plug actors into multiple franchises, taking advantage of actors’ innate popularity that can make or break a brand.  Movements are everywhere.  Local activists lobbying for a recycling center or college students petitioning for greater administrative representation hope that their efforts result in wholesale movements of public opinion and perception.  All movements rely on three major components, roughly speaking.  First, an opportunity.  Second, an organizing force unhindered by norms.  Third, an interpretive theme.

So what moves gardeners?  Sustainable food sources.  Sustainable landscapes.  Etc.  Sense a theme?  That’s because someone (or some people) about 15 years ago started floating the word “sustainable” in effort to spur hearts and minds to action.  Now soccer moms, business executives, and gardeners hear sustainability almost every day.  But what does it mean?  We’ve got the first two components covered; 1) an opportunity to change public perception and understanding about humanity’s role in the environment and 2) a tireless throng of millions who readily, and for the good, monopolize our daily lives with talk of meaningful sustainability.  But have we done a great job of interpreting what sustainability means to someone who gardens less than six hours a week, or anyone for that matter?  I say no, and the field is ripe with potential.  We don’t do a great job posing the question either.  ”What can you do in your garden to be sustainable?”  ”Um, gee I dunno, start composting?”  Great!  But where does that leave us?  Someone now has the idea that composting, instead of buying fertilizer or other soil additives, is a sustainable practice.  Great!  But all they have is an idea.  Are they spurred to action?  Did the question we posed motivate them, or simply put them on the spot?  I stand behind nobody in my commitment to sustainable horticulture, which may surprise you given the critical stance I’ve just posed.  But too many have already grown complacent about the strategies we use to energize, enlighten, and inspire.  Here marks the spot where creativity sulks.

Movements die just as fast as they’re born, often because they lose spirit.  The message gets foggy, too many people vie for attention for attention’s sake instead of for the sake of the message, and chaos typifies the brand.  Maybe it’s time for a movement about sustainable thinking when it comes to gardening, rather than just a movement about sustainable gardening.  Otherwise, what does it all mean?

Growing up, living, and gardening in a winter-stricken, temperate climate gives you a unique perspective on the rhythm of life, particularly the cadence of the seasons.  I feel like that cadence is lost on many people, September bleeding into February and sinking into June without fanfare or celebration for the simple tide of weather, flowers, and birds.  Philosophical?  Maybe.  But impractical?  Not so!

With that celebration of the seasons in mind, please enjoy these images from my garden.  It’s not a perfect canvas, and I don’t care!  It’s mine, and that’s what matters.  If you take away nothing from this blog other than a feverish passion for independence and uniqueness in your own gardening space, rock on!  Happy digging!

Spring:

Summer:

Fall:

Winter:

(Ed. Note:  Many of you may not open your email until after Christmas.  At any rate, happy holidays from my garden to yours and thanks very much for your e-patronage this year.  I write this blog to keep me sane–a little outlet for my thoughts and ideas.  I always look forward to hearing from you and wish you the best gardening season in 2010.)

Today I baked a peanut butter chocolate cheesecake, one of my absolute favorite dessert cheesecakes.  But while throwing the ingredients together (albeit from memory), I couldn’t exactly remember the ratio of cream cheese to eggs.  Add more eggs and you make a lighter, porous cake.  Add less and you create a rich and decadent confection.  It was one of those moments where I needed an answer, a yes/no or a one-liner that I could put to use in the kitchen and get on with my day.  I needed to click and know something.  So I googled for the recipe, found a blog, grabbed the tidbit, closed my browser and boogied my way back to the kitchen accompanied by Mannheim Steamroller playing on the stereo in the dining room.

It wasn’t until later that I realized something.  I could have just as easily been looking for the hardiness information of a plant, or any other zippy answer to an otherwise quick, off-hand question.  I didn’t feel like reading that blog where I found the tidbit I was looking for, I didn’t care about who wrote it, what her personal story was, why she wrote the blog, or what her credentials were.  I just wanted to know something simple, something simple enough to be found in a recipe.  Now before we all get up in arms here, let me qualify where I’m coming from.

In my lecture this past fall at the Garden Writers Association symposium, I stressed the importance of “feeding the immediate need,” “answering the quick question,” and “responding to the finger snap,” all the while developing a community around that knowledge and passion for providing it.  I’ve had a number of exciting projects rise to the top in the past months, and it’s given me a lot to think about, probably while I’m reflecting on my actions today in the way that I am.  What I did today is something that most people do at some level every day.  Sometimes we just want a little info–solid expertise that answers a question and nothing more.  We want to use, not participate.

The sustainable strategy for us business types that look to source, develop, and provide content rests in finding harmony between our brand of content and a consumer’s value perception of that brand, while understanding that not all consumers behave alike (obviously, someone in my situation today might just as well have spent five minutes reading the whole blog post).  But did I care about the brand of that author when I scoured her blog for info today?  No.  I needed to finish baking a cheesecake so I could get on with gift wrapping.  Today, I was a user, not a participant.  Today my perception of value was about 15′ long, the distance from my computer back to the mixing bowl.  But I wonder what I’ll think about that tidbit tomorrow when my fork sinks into that luscious cheesecake after Christmas dinner.  If I got the texture just right, I might think “hmm, glad I looked that up.  Wonder what else she’s got to say?”  Or I might think “damn, good cheesecake Kel,” and bask in a little self-gloating while I finish my glass of wine.  How valuable was that information?  More importantly perhaps, how valuable was that information to the outcome of its need?  Will it move me to participate or just to use more?

Take home message on this Christmas Eve:  Think about your role as content generator and/or consumer.  What kind of consumer are you?  Do you use or participate?  Passive or active?  Do you fill out those customer satisfaction surveys, or do you just hope it’ll all work out right?  If you generate content, what kind of generator are you?  Do you just lob out information in hopes it sticks somewhere or do you find ways to custom tailor information to a specific group of people?  Who do you write for and why do they care?  Do they want to read a article or just have a question answered?  The challenge of course is to answer that question and provide accordingly.

More in this vein of thought in the weeks ahead.

Already?  Yes, I am.  Here’s a little dose of spring to cure your ailing, winter-weary mind…

A new album on Rainbow Iris Farm’s Facebook page that I uploaded just this afternoon!
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=141217&id=114489795763&ref=mf

And for you folks in places warmer and friendlier, my friend Elizabeth (who lives downstairs in the same apartment building as I do) took this photo today:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=41915693&id=16917312&ref=nf

Happy dreaming!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Today I’m thankful for friends, family, and the flora of my garden that bloom without end, even after a dip into the 20s last night.  What’s more is that here at Rainbow Iris Farm, we’re celebrating our first ever iris in bloom on Thanksgiving!  We’ve often had rebloom into the week of, but never enjoyed it on Thanksgiving day proper.  Check out out Twitpic stream for photos of floral do-gooders like Helenium amarum and Echinacea ‘Tomato Soup’ still in bloom, and of course that little iris.

Check out some of the autumnal divas (below) showing off late season color.  Who agrees that this fall has been a grand season for heucheras?  Some of the best fall color I can remember.

Each year I reflect on the season past, usually for most of the winter.  (That’s a period of cold, gray, dismal nothingness for you southerly sorts.)  When I think about the season, I think about my plants.  My favorites.  The stars and divas.  The sulkers and misbehavers.  For ridiculous fun, I’ve decided to reduce my 1,000 + taxa plant collection to my top 15 plants for 2009.  This class of plants is mostly certainly a thriving crowd of plants–hardworking perennials and shrubs that don’t give in to the whims of Mother Nature.  (This is not a ranked listing, simply a sorted alphabetical list.)

1. Aconitum umbrosum
This recent acquisition from my friends Steve and Caroline Bertrand at The Perennial Flower Farm really took me for a spin.  I’m an Aconitum fan, albeit a casual one.  But this green and cream-flowered species from northeastern China and the Korean peninsula (unfortunately quite rare in commerce) really has me raving.  Maybe the coolest feature is the emerging foliage in spring–dark jade speckled with silvery spots, much like a Pulmonaria.  Choice and all too unavailable.

2. xAlcalthaea ‘Park Allee’
You may know this plant by the incorrect genus name Malva.  Around since the early 70s, this hollyhock-look-alike actually arose from crosses of Alcea (hollyhock) and Althaea (mallow) in a Hungarian garden.  Four cultivars were introduced, of which two remain relatively extant.  I was turned on to these bigeneric hybrids several years ago when doing research for my own Alcea breeding program.  Though sterile, ‘Park Allee’ is everything a gardener wants in a hollyhock.  It’s resistant (or highly tolerant) of hollyhock rust, suffers no herbivory from beetles or other insects that keenly nibble away at the foliage of neighboring hollyhocks, and blooms virtually non-stop from the end of June through and after frost.  I KNOW!?  The swarm of plants in our west perennial border was the subject of many conversations with visiting gardens, usually in disbelief at its utterly brilliant performance.

3. Clematis heracleifolia
I was so enchanted with this species this year that I wrote an entire post about them.

4. Gentiana septemfida var. lagodechiana
I promised my mom that I’d include this plant this year, and for good reason.  Gentians are one of those “blue” flowered plants that make you reeavaluate your definition of blue.  They really know how to pull it off!  This ground-hugging, sprite, and perky rock garden doyenne thrives with good drainage and scoffs in the face of Midwestern humidity.

5. Helianthus maximiliani
I’ve loved this native for years.  I shared a brief profile with y’all back in 2007.  It’s grown up even more and has earned a midsummer haircut next season to keep it manageable and enjoyable.

6. Heucherella ‘Sweet Tea’
I’m so getting brownie points for plugging this.  Dan Heims gave this to me back in April.  Now typically I don’t rush my evaluations of first year plants because it’s just not good science or logic.  But ‘Sweet Tea’ is an exception.  From a 72-cell plug (SMALL), this sumptuously colored, bigeneric hybrid between Heuchera (coral bells) and Tiarella (foamy bells) grew vigorously all summer long.  Since I’m also practically an adopted child of the south, I couldn’t pass up mentioning one of my favorite southernisms….sweet tea!  ‘Sweet Tea’ should be widely available in 2010.  Look for it!

7. Iris ‘Gene’s Lora Lavelle’
Here’s some shameless self promotion for quite possibly the worst named plant ever….and it’s mine!  Regardless of its lack of nomenclatural catchiness, my 2009 introduction deserves a spot in your garden.  Visitors love it.  We love it.  Just forget to tag it, for its sake.

8. Iris x norrisii
Though I like to take credit for the specific epithet, this newly reclassified irid was named for Sam Norris (maybe a relative?) who developed this horticultural species from repeated crosses of (then) Pardanthopsis dichotoma (now Iris dichotoma) and Belamcanda chinensis (now Iris domestica).  These so-called candy lilies (or xPardancanda, if you’re stuck in your ways) razzle dazzle the garden at a time when few other perennials (let alone irises) look their grandest.  A focus of our breeding and development work, we can’t wait to share the fruits of our labors with you in a few years (hopefully).  Take a look at some of this year’s seedlings derived from Harlan Hamernick’s Dazzler series and seed-grown I. domestica ‘Hello Yellow’ (sometimes erroneously named Belamcanda flava).  Oh and did I mention they are drought-tolerant, heat-loving, and capable of growing in clay?

9. Kolkwitzia amabilis ‘Maradco’ Dream Catcher™
I know I’ve babbled about this thing all summer too.  But really, it looked stunning all summer.  The stuff of my dreams…

10. Lespedeza thunbergii ‘Samindare’
I can’t wait for the day I can build a seven or eight foot tall wall and have it planted with Lespedeza cascading over the edge.  Correction…that’s the stuff of my dreams!  But in the meantime I’m more than satisfied with ‘Samindare’, the posh-looking, free-wheeling babe of the pea family that delightfully graces the east border of my family’s home.  Bloom time- SEPTEMBER.  Mark it down, mark it down…

11. Penstemon richardsonii var. richardsonii
I couldn’t compile a list without a Penstemon.  Such would be an act of heresy!  I once had a shirt that said “Penstomaniac” but I don’t think it fits anymore (I think the American Penstemon Society still sells them).  I picked up this pent on one of my trips to Portland.  Native to colder valleys in the Cascade Mountain range of Oregon and Washington, Richardson’s penstemon has no trouble surviving the brutality of Midwestern winters.  Given good drainage it seems thoroughly content.  The flowers are almost indescribable and difficult to photograph since they glow in neon blue tones.  If you think ‘Husker Red’ when you hear Penstemon, displace that idea for a minute.  This mountain girl rambles at ground level, a subshrub of sorts that meanders in and between its associates.  Not widely available or even grown much outside of its native range.  I found plants for sale recently at Laporte Avenue Nursery, a fine rock garden plant specialist.

12. Phlox paniculata ‘Peppermint Twist’
I know, I need an intervention with this plant.  But how can you not fall in love with this dwarf, everblooming, and disease-tolerant cultivar?  A diva of necessitous consequence.

13. Rudbeckia subtomentosa ‘Henry Eilers’
If Henry Eilers ran for office, I’d donate to his campaign fund.  I can’t think of a more sensational perennial black-eyed susan on the market.  Here’s a shout-out to Dan H. for bringing it to the wholesale market.  If you don’t own it, buy it.  Sales pitch:  Long-blooming, durable, rugged, and non-flopping black-eyed susan that’ll have you swooning and singing Sinatra.  I’ve got about 600 photos of the same plant in my garden from the last several years.  I can’t get enough.

14. Silene ‘Rockin’ Robin’
Another Dan Heims introduction of considerable worth that failed to hit it big.  Sometimes the market doesn’t always know best!  Such is the case with this phenomenal catchfly bred by Thurman Maness.  Sporting all the standard markers of hybrid vigor (vigorous, larger flowers, etc.), ‘Rockin’ Robin’ politely screams at garden visitors in the most audacious visual flavor of salmon pink humanly imaginable.  And it doesn’t stop!  After nearly a month of bloom in early summer, I hedge back the sticky remnants and watch it slowly tank up for a repeat show in late summer and early fall.  Wouldn’t garden without it.  Still available from the niche suppliers who recognize good plants.

15. Symphytum x uplandicum ‘Axminster Gold’
Sexy?  Comfrey?  Same sentence?  YES!  These plants of rhyme and lore typically don’t call up images of vixens.  Yet take a look below at this well-regarded variegated cultivar called ‘Axminster Gold’.  Bawdy, right?  When planted in the middle of groundcovers or in the depths of shade, it’s like a light bulb in a dark closet.  Suddenly color floods in and that once dreary corner of the garden changes forever.  I deliberately planted it with this very purpose in mind and it has grown into the job perfectly.  Can’t wait for it to just keep getting bigger (and now I just have to have more).  Please note other species and variegated cultivars do exist.  I think I’ll buy them all.

Now…what were some of YOUR favorite plants for 2009?  Rules:  you have to grow them yourself (ie-can’t be something you saw somewhere and loved…that’s another list!)