Sometimes when I look at bonsai, I wonder what would happen if those trees weren't manipulated quite so much, if they were left in the wild to grow tall and deep and if humans didn't have such a need to tinker with what nature has given us. I have to concede, however, that these works-in-progress are very beautiful - clean, simple, balanced, interesting. And when you think about it, is shaping and training a juniper tree into artistic form more violent than suburban sprawl or the ubiquitous monoculture - now so obsolete - that comprises the almighty front lawn? There are far worse things perpetrated on plants and trees every day by well-meaning and not-so-well-meaning folks.
Jim Gillespie, VP of the Pennsylvania Bonsai Society, tells me that some who visit his group's exhibit consider what he does cruel and unnatural. (Are these people wearing fur coats? Do they like hot dogs and eat beef? Just wondering.) He responds that in nature, a pine tree might live 50 to 200 years under normal conditions. In a bonsai pot, which deliberately constrains root growth to keep the trees small, it could live up to 400 years. It's not unknown for them to live even longer.
This is a Shimpaku juniper. It's been pinched, pruned, fertilized and trained according to bonsai techniques for 47 years. It's growing around a dead, bleached-out trunk that's about 275 years old. To make this happen, a gouge was made in the back of the dead part and the live tree trunk was laid into it. As it grows - very slowly - the young tree expands into the groove and rolls over the edges of the dead tree, Jim explains.
Bonsai is not necessarily fiction or deception, but the goal is to make trees look old or young when they aren't. The technique is part horticulture and part three-dimensional design and once it gets inside your head, it's hard to let go. Jim has about 200 bonsai trees on his 1 1/3 acre near Allentown; he's been studying and practicing this ancient Japanese art for 34 years, belongs to five clubs and two study groups. Now he has a business around it. "You sort of get lost in the structure of the tree," he said.
I hear ya, Jim. Ciao.
Hate to disappoint all the horticulturists out there, but shopping is one of the bigger draws of the show. No apologies! Last year I wrote about the shopping and an emailer named "Anonymous" criticized me for talking about it. No apologies, Anonymous. This is one place where I am happy to shop. Apparently plenty of visitors agree with me. The aisles are jammed, and no wonder. I found many things - fresh flowers, African violets (the sign on the booth said "That's amore"), orchids, garden gloves, Irish riding boots, jewelry galore. So much you can't take it all in. Friends who are here told me they split up and passed each other in the aisle. Both were so dazed, they walked right by without recognition!
Too many things to mention, but I did find some wind chimes in Booth 434 made of obsidian needles. Obsidian is a glassy rock that Deborah and Richard Bloom from Portland dig up - with permits, of course. They also use seed pods, cones, flowers, wood, antler and bone in their chimes, which have a delicate sound but which, the Blooms assure, are extremely tough. Forty mph winds? I asked. "I've had mine up for 20 years, no problem," Deborah said.
When I come back to the show on Saturday - this time on my own time - I just might stop back. Ciao.
This is Chef Roberta Adamo from Penne Restaurant and Wine Bar on the Penn campus. Roberta learned to make pasta at the "grandmothers' knee culinary school." She was lucky enough to have two grandmothers teaching her, as well as a Sicilian ex-mother-in-law. "When I come back in my next life, I want to be a Sicilian man. They have the life," Roberta says.
Making your own pasta is labor-intensive but low cost and you should've seen her rolling out the dough and hand-cutting little raviolis. Lots of people did see it. The room was so packed, people were lined up in the back and along the side, sort of like the winos who are lining up two across, 30 to 40 pairs deep, for the wine-tastings!
Earlier, I caught part of a talk by Joe Lamp'l, author of "The Green Gardener's Guide: Simple, Significant Actions," and a popular TV garden-show host. Joe had a sobering - simple, significant - topic: why gardening is so important. You'd think people, especially now, would realize that. But Joe sees a sharp decline in the number of gardening magazines, as well as coverage by TV, radio and newspapers. (Fortunately for us and for me, the Inquirer is still hanging in there.) Big-box stores are co-opting the plant- buying business, independent garden centers are losing ground and the next generation doesn't have the connection with the garden that this and earlier generations had. As Richard Louv, author of "Last Child in the Woods," wrote, "Our children are the first generation to be raised without meaningful contact with the natural world." The ramifications of that are severe.
You'd think gardening would be a much hotter topic, given our desire for fresh food, locally and organically grown, our planet's climate dilemma and the economy. And, as Joe says, "now more than ever, we're stressed." Every gardener knows what we do helps our mental health, along with our sense of physical and emotional well-bring.
Now I'm so depressed, I think I need some of Roberta's pasta. Or a nice spring afternoon digging in the dirt. Ciao.
Entertainment at this year's show is very different from the last two years. Quieter. Two years ago we had Irish dancers. Last year, New Orleans jazz. Flower show '09 features Italian folk dancing, opera, the Philadelphia Mandoline and Guitar Ensemble and the Kraft String Trio.
I saw Vivaci, the traditional folk dancing group from Philly. Founded in 1972, it has 16 members, ages 10-75, though I thought I counted more than 16 up on the Rome stage. All but one were female, nice odds if you're a guy, and they performed variations of the tarantella, dressed in colorful costume. Linda Montgomery has been dancing for three years, an adventure she began after retiring from her office job. Linda lives in South Philly and only recently became curious enough to start exploring her Italian heritage. "The group's very folksy and fun. We pick up difference dances from different regions," she said. "It's very aerobic."
Linda's costume includes a mask made of peacock feathers that she bought in a party store. Party on, Linda!
I've heard the opera, which is some people's cuppa and not others. I happen to be a fan, though it'd be great if the performers or accompanist told the audience what arias were coming. I don't know if people care; several I asked during one performance said it didn't matter. They were yelling bravo anyway. But the Vivaci dancers announced what they were doing. It'd be an easy thing. (Performances today are at 11, 12:30, 2, 5:30 and 7).
The opera folks come from the Academy of Vocal Arts here: Soperano Jan Cornelius, a second year resident artist from Texas, and baritone Eric Dubin. They did well but having no idea what scene or aria we were experiencing, it was hard to figure out the sad expressions, the pauses, the looking away. And it was a bit disconcerting when one or the other would go to one side of the stage, obliterating the view and sound for the people on the other side. Hmmm. That's what you get with a two-sided stage!
Recorded music also fills the hall. I've heard crowd-pleasers Andreas Boccelli and Luciano Pavarotti and I think - or am I imagining - some Sinatra. Whatever. "Bella Italia" - definitely for the sentimental. Ciao.
Room 203 is the Family Lounge. I just visited and here was the scene. It wasn't quiet but it wasn't loud either. It was a not unpleasant level of noise. Kids were playing, watching a movie with their parents or checking out the skins and pelts of a Burmese python, a snow leopard and an American crocodile. No animal was harmed for this little show - I asked. The zoo representatives said the stuff was either confiscated by U.S. Fish and Wildlife or came from zoo animals that died. That's a relief. Couldn't bring myself to touch them, but kids have no such inhibitions. They also enjoyed a ring-necked dove, very much alive. From the looks of the lounge, quite a few parents had a big day today. They had that dazed look that comes from toting a little kid around 10 acres of flower show. Put your feet up, ladies and gents, and maybe you want to check out the wine-tastings down the hall. Ciao!
Wow -- just popped into the Italian wine-tasting room (204-B). There were about 65 people inside in line to imbibe and another 40 waiting outside. Mood was festive. Here's Leslie Eames of Woodlyn, in Delaware County, who was ready to go eat dinner after sampling two reds and two whites (two sips each). The Chianti was so-so, but the pinot grigio she liked a lot. "I think the tastings are nice, especially when you've been on your feet all day," she said. Tastings are run by the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board every day of the show from noon to 2 p.m. and 4 to 7 p.m. And no, I didn't try anything. I'm a working girl. Ciao.
Since 1988, the hort society has been choosing what they call "gold medal plants" that aren't well known but should be. I stopped at the PHS booth to read about and see some of the 108 plants that have won this designation. Trees like paperbark maple and bottlebrush buckeye, red chokeberry (I love that one) and beautyberry (ditto - have you seen their gorgeous purple berries at the end of summer? not to be missed), shrubs like deutzia and 'Annabelle' hydrangea and oakleaf hydrangea ('Snow Queen'). You'll recognize a lot of them but there are plenty on the list that will be new. It's not too often that we get it all spelled out for us - great plants that'll grow here.
This is a photo of Carolina jasmine 'Margarita,' (Gelsemium sempervivens), a pretty evergreen vine (it can hit 12 feet high) with fragrant trumpet-shaped blooms that open in late March. It's deer-resistant, good in sun or part shade, and tolerant of lousy soil and drought. It's a native that'll do well in our area and, as if we needed any more reason to like this plant, it's yellow. I know some gardeners shy away from yellow - too bright - but I think we all need a splash of yellow out there.
You can take home a list of these gold medal winners. I plan to. Ciao!
The ornamental horticulture and environmental design students at Delaware Valley College in Doylestown picked a different Italian theme - the gardens of Pompeii and Herculaneum, cities destroyed long ago by that nasty volcano. Much is known about these gardens because the lava and ash preserved them, although it obliterated everything else. It's surprising to see how many plants we use today were used then ... Concord grapes, grape hyacinth, flax, yellow flag iris, snapdragons, miniature daffodils, sweet pea, Persian fritillaria, figs and borage. This is about the 10th time I've seen borage and every time, I'm blown away by how interesting it is. Have to get some of that! Richard Glaser, a landscape architect from the class of '65, showed me around the exhibit, which also has a fun little palindrome tile. You read the letters from top to bottom, bottom to top, top left to right and bottom right to left. These ancient people also built labyrinths in patterns. "They were pretty smart," my guide said. Though these things didn't help with life expectancy, sounds like these folks had a good time while it lasted. Ciao.
One of my favorite things at the flower show is to visit the exhibits done by horticulture students. This year the kids - historically all boys - did a Tuscan kitchen that is lots of fun. The won best in show for academic education. The two Daniels - Arms and Conway - were greeting visitors. Both seniors, they said this was their class project for the year and the most meaningful thing they'd done at school. The exhibit has an arbor covered in mandevilla, which may or may not bloom this week! The kitchen is eat-in, the table set with red wine and plates of cured sausage, cheese, dates, olives, and dried apricots. Nearby is a basket of brown eggs. Daniel Conway's mother, who is not herself Italian but was linked by marriage, has offered up her recipes for homemade gravy, sausage scallopini and fettucine alfredo. Copies - alas, no samples - available at the exhibit. Both Daniels already have jobs, 24 days before they're finished, and I wish them well. Ciao.
The competitive classes here usually draw two types of people - those doing the competing and people like me who just like to see beautiful and unusual specimens of plants and flowers. They're marvelous, in part because they're so far removed from anything ordinary folks can grow. I mean, how do they do that? How do they nurture and tease these plants into perfect bloom during flower show week? It takes a lot, and don't get mad at me here, but I think it also takes a somewhat (does that get me off the hook?) compulsive person. And who has time? Some people have gardeners and staff who have the time. The rest are on their own, and they sometimes take extraordinary measures. They stick their plants in the fridge if they're too rambunctious. They bring 'em out when they're iced into sluggish submission. There are other tricks, way too much trouble for me. And I know the process drives people crazy - but they can't stop the fussing. I'm sorta glad there are people like this in the world because look what they produce. These tulips are called 'Olympic flame,' rather obvious why. You can feel their waxy petals without touching them. You can sense the spring sun behind them. And what colors. Believe it or not, this pot only took second prize. Ciao.












