Of very small things

I've mentioned my talented friend Pattie before on this blog: she's a floral artist of the most patient and dedicated kind, and I am regularly rendered speechless by her extraordinary creations.

Here's her latest.

She's something of a specialist in miniatures, compositions made entirely from plant material but measuring no more than 10cm in any direction.

It was for the annual NAFAS competition at the Wisley Flower Show, this year moved out of the rather gloomy tent it's usually in, to take up a much sunnier spot in the Bicentenary Glasshouse.

The theme for this year's miniatures was 'Just Perfick'. Which, I think, it is. Luckily the judges thought so too and gave it first prize.

The level of detail is just astounding: as you can see, it's a little picnic scene with bowls of berry 'apples' and a basket of buns made from pearl barley kernels delicately painted red along the crease.

Here's the second prize winner, by Rachel Sherwin: I can't work out what the 'apples' are on this one (there's one on the tree and a couple on the little chair underneath). They're seedpods of some description, but nothing I recognise: these artists are geniuses at seeing miniature shapes in things you or I would just pop in a seed packet and forget about.

And third prize: perhaps a more straightforward arrangement from Anne Blunt, but nonetheless exquisitely pretty for all that. Those little blossoms so artfully arranged on the twig look just like a Japanese cherry in springtime. In fact now I come to think of it, there's more than an echo of Japanese tradition in these delicate little creations.

If you're one of the many people who scuttle past the floral art tent at flower shows on the way to something more obviously gardening-related, do stop next time and take a look, if only just for these little jewels. They're like nothing else you'll ever see.

Pretty posies

Further to the previous, one bit of Dan Pearson's book which piqued my interest was his description of his friend Geraldine's habit of picking a posy of flowers from her garden every day of the year to pop in a jamjar on the kitchen table.

The flowers were gathered at random: just eight, or maybe ten, of the first flowers that came to hand. No thought to colour, form, or all those angst-ridden artistic things which I'm no good at - I'm a dab hand at appreciating artistic things when other people do them, but absolutely rubbish at coming up with the ideas myself.

So this is the non-flower-arranger's school of flower arrangement. Right up my street. And there's a useful sort of gardening point to it all, too.

Dan says he takes inspiration from throwing together flowers like this: colour combinations you might never consider normally, and a close appreciation of the way flowers behave. And the posies change according to the seasons. It all adds up to a real insight into how plants work together in the garden.

So, I got to thinking: let's try this at home.

I couldn't quite manage a posy every day: actually I don't own enough vases to hold them anyway and can't quite harden my heart enough to throw away a perfectly good bunch of flowers. So for the last week I've been picking a posy maybe every couple of days.

The rules I followed: pick the first flowers you see, only one of each type in each posy, and no more than 10 in a bunch. Here's the result.

Friday: Philadelphus coronarius 'Aurea', Geranium pratense, Sorbus aucuparia, Queen Anne's lace, Euphorbia griffithii, red valerian, comfrey, Alchemilla mollis, flowering mizuna and Astrantia major.

I learned: orange and lime yellow look fabulous together: tree blossom looks lovely in a vase; and dusty pink and burnt orange work surprisingly well. And bolting vegetables are beautiful!


Sunday: Stachys byzantina, Euphorbia amygdaloides purpurea (I think), bluebell, red valerian, Cotinus coggygria 'Royal Purple', Queen Anne's lace, Aquilegia vulgaris, Cerastium tomentosum, chives, Spiraea arguta

I learned: you can overdo white (and purple); white against deep purple is a combination to die for; if you've got a group of small-leaved and/or small-flowered plants, you need something big or something brightly coloured to stop it being too 'bitty'.


Today: Paeonia lactiflora, Meconopsis cambrica, pink lupin, chive, red campion, Aquilegia vulgaris, comfrey, red valerian, Geranium pratense

I learned: You can overdo the big splashy flowers - with both paeony and lupin in here neither shone as it should; the yellow splash of Welsh poppy worked surprisingly well and lifted the whole thing; wild flowers like campion hold their own among even very cultivated plants.

I've got a bit of a taste for this. My house also looks rather lovely bedecked in flower 'arrangements' which are artless, unplanned, yet all the more beautiful for that. Plus it's a great excuse to get out in the garden and really look, closely, at what's out there, and celebrate just how beautiful it all is.

If anyone should feel like joining in, be my guest: pop out for five minutes and snip yourself a posy, then take a pic and show us all. And don't forget to post here and tell me too :D

Further to the previous...

Woooot! Well done Pattie!

Incidentally she also did another miniature in the show - actually I think technically it's a 'petite' as it's marginally bigger at about 25cm x 25cm (ish - not sure of the exact details). The theme was 'Berried Treasure'.


This lot was a pile of peppercorns last time I saw it on Pattie's mum's living room table.

And guess what - she won first prize for this too!

The smallest garden in the world

It's a rock garden, an overhanging cliff crusted with lichen shading a little pool with a yellow waterlily. It measures 10cm x 10cm (and no more than 10cm high).


Viewed from the other side, and you can see a few flowers cling on in the cracks, while elegant ferns waft in the breeze (that may be white paper underneath... or a particularly pale beach?)


Oh, all right then, you've probably guessed already. This is miniature flower arranging, done on an infinitesimally tiny scale: every piece is dried and preserved in silica before being stuck, one at a time, on the sculpture. Not one is more than a few millimetres long. Everything you see is of plant origin: those 'bulrushes' are individual stamens, while the yellow flowers are made from the tiny central blossoms picked out of euphorbia bracts. The 'rock' is a piece of bark, and there are more tiny specks from Bupleurum and other things I couldn't even recognise.


Actually I've been sitting on these pictures for a few weeks, as this miniature is a work in progress due to go on display tomorrow at the Wisley Flower Show as part of the new NAFAS flower-arranging exhibit. Since staging has now started, there's no risk of any dastardly stealing of ideas - apparently flower arranging is a cut-throat sport and much skulduggery goes on behind the scenes. So I can now publish, and to hell with the consequences.

Don't worry, I was no more than a very admiring bystander: the artist is Pattie Hendrie, the very talented daughter of Mrs M, whose garden I look after and which I have raved about occasionally here before.

Good luck Pattie - I'll be there and rooting for you!