The Gates – Part Two: Landscaping

Editor’s note: In the first week in November, Carey Maloney slipped on some marble stairs and shattered his right elbow. Consequently, he will be unable to write new blog entries for some time. We apologize to his fans who, we trust, join us in wishing him a speedy recovery.

In this episode, the M (Group)‘s favorite landscape design firm, Kelly Varnell Virgona, presents a plan for planting the entry by the gates, and Carey Maloney complains about holly-munching (ouch!) deer.

The Gates landscape will be simple and will continue our design goal of “neat but not gaudy.” But first, a word about deer. This year, the owners of The Horse Farm across the road from The House ripped out the old ragged plants around their gate and optimistically replaced them with what they assumed was deer-proof shrubbery—holly. Sadly, the holly has already been destroyed (and it isn’t even cold yet!).

I’m no gardener, but let’s take a moment, right at the outset, to recite the Country Mantra: Nothing is “deer proof.” You’re lucky to get ‘deer resistant’ in our neck of the woods. (How desperate does an animal have be to eat holly? Imagine those soft lips and those spines… Sort of makes me sick.)

On our side of the road, in a field, we have herds of 20 to 30 deer every evening. Bucolic and charming, all the scene lacks is a Marlin Perkins voice-over. It gives me a misguided sense of pride when our landscapers say that our deer are the most voracious and indiscriminate eaters they have ever encountered. Is it because the state park and convent do not allow hunting? The land was never cleared, so the woods are deep. The population is vast and growing. No hope for an under-story.

But enough whining about the deer—I’m preachin’ to the choir. (Hmm - I’d better stop the affectation of leaving off my g’s. A politician whose name shall not pass my lips has usurped my folksy Southernism for her own evil purposes. It’s just as well. Folksy I am not…) Our landscape designer Kelly Varnell Virgona (KVV) has come up with a simple, elegant and appropriate design for the entrance gate (drawing below). The four existing trees—the ones that were planted on purpose—will remain. The two ugly wild interlopers (photo above) that took root on their own will be eliminated, and two new shade trees will be added. The plant materials may change once The Clients are shown what’s available. But, for now, a hedge of green barberry (full sun and you-know-what resistant) will arch in the opposite direction from the stone walls. (KVV tells me the green barberry is hard to find—and personally, I am no fan of red plants, so we’ll see.) Ferns will be mounded around (deer don’t like them but they (vengefully?) trod on them to get to the other stuff). Spirea and myrica (bayberry) will be massed on each side.

KVV followed our design directive—we like to use a limited ‘vocabulary’ of plant materials, and we like to use each choice liberally. Simple, drought-and-deer-resistant, and low maintenance— after two summers of supplemental “truck watering,” they will be on their own.

Reading List

Elizabeth Barlow Rogers founded the Central Park Conservancy (where KVV designed Strawberry Fields, FYI) and in 2001 founded the Bard College landscape design course (see last week’s blog). She wrote Landscape Design; A Cultural and Architectural History (Abrams, 2001), and it is a must-have book. The title conveys the scope—vast and dense but very enlightening.

And give your favorite antiquarian bookdealer the assignment of finding you a copy of a volume we cherish: Modern Gardens and the Landscape by Elizabeth B. Kassler (published by The Museum of Modern Art in 1964). We were given a client’s copy by her grandson after her death. She had amazing houses and apartments designed by Wallace Harrison, Philip Johnson, and Maison Jansen. Her design files and books give wonderful insights into a post-WWII Design Hound’s interests. To give an idea of the scale of her houses, the Mt. Desert Island place had a dining table carved on site by Isamu Noguchi, that followed the curve of the coastline (which could be seen through curved sheets of glass). Commissioned Milton Avery landscapes of ‘their’ Maine coastline hung on the wall behind it. Cutting edge then, cutting edge now (as if anyone is bright or brave enough to make that leap today. Where are the true Patrons? A heroic bunch—the de Menil’s come to mind…)