Orange

orange 16.jpg

Orange is the colour of autumn. It's one of my favourite colours. 

Some people are scared of orange, thinking it's too brash, too bold and too seventies. To those people I say, 'you're wrong'. Every garden needs orange. 

matisse goldfish.jpg

Matisse, arguably one of the best artists, has a lot to teach us about the colour orange. Take Still-life with Goldfish 1911, without the orange the painting would lose its magic. Look at the way that the orange makes the greens greener or bluer or yellower. 

The orange in this painting is bright and clear. It doesn't screech. Orange is used sparingly, but it's the star of the picture. The goldfish are luscious jube-like jewels. The eye is drawn immediately  to the fish and then the eye moves across to the crimson mop-head flowers and those flowers directs us to the pink background and the lavender table and the small pink flowers in the bottom right. Then we notice the bright turquoise of the water and the aqua arms of the chair and table legs. Then we spot the terracotta pots and the triangle of terracotta in the fish bowl and before you know it you are starting to notice all the little touches of colour: the ochre stripe on the long leaf, the white and lilac flower. There are patches of white scattered unevenly throughout the picture. The white is like the foam on the waves, the light catching on glass beads. White moves, it dances. The purple-black shadows make the orange even oranger. Our eyes swim about the picture like fish, going around and around.

Build a garden the way Matisse builds a painting. He would've started with the goldfish and then added the shapes and colours accordingly. Start with something extroverted in orange, a bird of paradise, some canna lilies, some lilies or a foliage plant like flax. Bring in some green. 50% green. Different greens. Leaves of different shapes and styles and heights. Add some dark tones in the purple range...maybe an evergreen shrub or two, something that adds solidness and depth. Bring in pink, aqua and terracotta and have fun placing them. Don't scatter them evenly about but put them in distinct patches - marry them with the green and purple and orange. Orange can be married with any colour providing you invite some friends along. I find studying paintings a great way to understand how to use colour in the garden.

Orange is the colour of sunrises and sunsets and, well...oranges. It's a colour that warms and excites and has a dash of the exotic about it. It's friendly too.

Gertrude Jeykyll's 'Orange Garden', an illustration from her book 'Colour Schemes For The Flower Garden', 1914.

Gertrude Jeykyll's 'Orange Garden', an illustration from her book 'Colour Schemes For The Flower Garden', 1914.

Gertrude Jekyll trained as an artist at the School of Art in London in 1861. One the many subjects she studied, along with painting, wood-carving, silverwork, tapestry and embroidery, was colour theory. She applied her knowledge of colour and its effects in her garden design. Gertrude Jekyll was a firm believer in harmony and contrast. Her ultimate aim was to elevate gardening to the same status as painting. Great gardens like great paintings are all about beauty.  

Turner was one of Gertrude Jekyll's favourite artist's. She copied many of his paintings at The National Gallery in London. Her main flower border at Munstead Wood, where she lived, is said to have been inspired by the inky purples and sunset colours in Turner's painting 'The Fighting Temeraire.' Purple and orange are contrasting colours.

In her book 'Colour Schemes For The Flower Garden', published in 1914, Gertrude Jekyll designed an orange garden. Not a stand-alone garden but part of a sequence of coloured gardens. After the orange garden came the grey garden, then the gold, the blue and the green garden. Each garden was separated by a hedge but was intended to be viewed as a group. The design had harmony and contrast. Gertrude Jekyll hated monotony. 

The illustrations above are works of art. Almost all the plants are designed  to be placed in long strips or 'drifts,' as Gertrude Jekyll called them, with a few circular clumps of kniphofia and dahlia at the back. There are at least five layers of plants from front to back.

Colour Schemes For The Flower Garden is a timeless book. Gertrude Jekyll's prose is as clear and beautiful as her illustrations. It's a must for gardeners who are interested in colour. The book is as much about foliage as flowers. Colour Schemes For The Flower Garden is a manifesto of Gertrude Jekyll's garden thinking, designing and making.

Here are some photographs of Orange plants in my garden and from around my neighbourhood.

 

Bessie sniffing around the sedums. 

Bessie sniffing around the sedums. 

Sedum (unknown variety).

Sedum (unknown variety).

My sedum is a wonderful autumn plant. It disappears over winter and reappears in spring, All summer it has   luscious foliage. Then in autumn these orange-red flowers bloom for months and when the sun catches them they glow vermilion. My sedum is easy to propagate. I've been snapping off fleshy stems and shoving them into bare spots all over my garden.

Crab apple, Malus 'Jack Humm'.

Crab apple, Malus 'Jack Humm'.

My 'no-name' pear tree.

My 'no-name' pear tree.

Wisteria floribunda 'Ed's Blue Dragon'.

Wisteria floribunda 'Ed's Blue Dragon'.

My neighbour's rambling rose, trained around a power pole. 

My neighbour's rambling rose, trained around a power pole. 

Flowering cherry tree, Prunus, April 2018.

Flowering cherry tree, Prunus, April 2018.

Flowering cherries grow wild around Wellington. The council considers them a pest and they've poisoned them on some hillsides. Birds love their berries and spread flowering cherry seeds across the hills in their droppings. I think they're beautiful. Beautiful in spring when they're in blossom. Beautiful in autumn when their leaves look like goldfish swimming in the breeze. This is my neighbours tree and I suspect its been planted by the birds.

Abutilon.

Abutilon.

Monarch butterfly on my pink Abutilon. 

Monarch butterfly on my pink Abutilon. 

Viburnum oculus 'Sterile'.

Viburnum oculus 'Sterile'.

Viburnum oculus 'Sterile'.

Viburnum oculus 'Sterile'.

Calycanthus 'Hartlage Wine'.

Calycanthus 'Hartlage Wine'.

Apple, Malus 'Monty's Surprise' growing in my garden.

Apple, Malus 'Monty's Surprise' growing in my garden.

Apple, Malus 'Monty's Surprise.' These apples are enormous.

Apple, Malus 'Monty's Surprise.' These apples are enormous.

Rose hip, 'Etoile De Hollande', a fragrant climber in my garden.

Rose hip, 'Etoile De Hollande', a fragrant climber in my garden.

Parthenocissus 'Bevery Brooks', Boston Ivy (I think). I found it growing on a fence in my neighbourhood.

Parthenocissus 'Bevery Brooks', Boston Ivy (I think). I found it growing on a fence in my neighbourhood.

Common oak Quercus robur in my back garden at sunset.

Common oak Quercus robur in my back garden at sunset.

One of my favourite trees, and the best native that's orange, is the tree fuchsia, kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata. It's the largest fuchsia in the world. Kotukutuku grows readily in regenerating forests around Wellington. Possums decimate these trees so they only grow where possums are controlled. It's a beautiful deciduous tree (unusual as most New Zealand trees are evergreen) that is fast growing, reaching a maximum height of 6 metres. It has pretty hanging green and purple flowers that arrive in late winter and spring. The tree stands out in the forest. It looks like the trunk and branches are glowing. It has cinnamon-coloured peeling bark. I want to track one down at a nursery. I have the perfect spot for it, near a mamaku, tree fern.

kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata. This tree fuchsia is growing in my local forest. They don't have a dense canopy and allow lots of semi-shade loving plants to grow under it. They like moist fertile soil.

kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata. This tree fuchsia is growing in my local forest. They don't have a dense canopy and allow lots of semi-shade loving plants to grow under it. They like moist fertile soil.

kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata

kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata

kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata

kotukutuku, Fuchsia excorticata

Here are three trees showing off their fetching autumn outfits in the Wellington Botanic Garden.

Fraxinus excelsior 'Aurea' - Golden Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus excelsior 'Aurea' - Golden Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus excelsior 'Aurea' - Golden Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus excelsior 'Aurea' - Golden Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus excelsior 'Aurea' - Golden Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus excelsior 'Aurea' - Golden Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus angustifolia 'Raywood' syn. Fraxinus oxycarpa - Claret Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus angustifolia 'Raywood' syn. Fraxinus oxycarpa - Claret Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus angustifolia 'Raywood' syn. Fraxinus oxycarpa - Claret Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus angustifolia 'Raywood' syn. Fraxinus oxycarpa - Claret Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus angustifolia 'Raywood' syn. Fraxinus oxycarpa - Claret Ash, April 2018.

Fraxinus angustifolia 'Raywood' syn. Fraxinus oxycarpa - Claret Ash, April 2018.

Acer saccharum - Sugar Maple, April 2018.

Acer saccharum - Sugar Maple, April 2018.

Acer saccharum - Sugar Maple, April 2018.

Acer saccharum - Sugar Maple, April 2018.

You might remember, that last week I wrote about my two new Heliotropes and their wonderful scent. I came across an entire bed of them at the Wellington Botanic Garden and planted amongst them were orange marigolds. What an inspired colour combination - purple and orange - not to mention a superb scent combo - the sweet syrupy smell of the Heliotropes and the fresh astringent scent of the marigolds.

Heliotropes and marigolds, Wellington Botanic Garden, April 2018.

Heliotropes and marigolds, Wellington Botanic Garden, April 2018.