evergreens & topiaries

READYING SMALL EVERGREENS and topiary in summer for use in autumn and winter, will bring summer’s green inside for the end-of-year season. Evergreens inside the home have long been a living element in end-of-year decorations—symbolizing spring’s new life.

THE ROMANS are most often credited for the origin of topiary. The first written descriptions of the topiary came from Roman writers Pliny the Elder and his nephew, Pliny the Younger, who made references to topiary in their writings. Topiary flourished by the end of the first century among wealthy Romans. 

EGYPTIANS AND JEWS may have actually introduced the art of topiary to the Romans. There are paintings that survive that depict Egyptian gardens with topiary forms, and Jews were among the slaves in charge of maintaining the gardens of Rome. During the Dark Ages, after the Roman Empire had ended, cloistered-away monks kept the art of topiary alive—a perfect pastime for monastery life. During the Renaissance—synonymous with a grand revival of the arts—topiary came back in favor. 

IVY TOPIARY  | (above) Ivy has long been a symbol of love and fidelity and grows into a beautiful holiday topiary when trained on a conical wire form.

THE FRENCH are credited for topiary reaching its epoch in the late 17th century. Andre Le Notre’s landscaping for King Louis XIV at Versailles as the chief royal gardener, made the topiary popular once again.

THE TOPIARY is one of the most ancient of garden crafts. Pagan tradition holds the belief that winter evergreens are a promise for another spring—symbolizing life’s continuity. Evergreen decorations became ritualized at temples and even inside the home in winter celebrations, representing the promise of new life. 

TOP TOPIARY | (all photos above, left to right) An ivy topiary gets its start on a small wire form. Other good evergreen choices in this photo (from left to right) Red Star White Cedar, which maintains its juvenile foliage through adulthood; Lemon Cypress, trimmed with a long stem; and a Hardy Rosemary plant trimmed into a conical form. The terra cotta pots topped with a sage green glaze are by Guy Wolff Pottery.

RIGHT AT HOME | (above) Dwarfed by the topiary pots, diminutive cardboard ornaments form a small community. Bringing live evergreens inside the home has a symbolically rich history. 

©2012 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland

hearts of glass

YES! This was the exasperated and emphatic last word I heard from my mother. To this day, which would have been her 86th birthday, I remember not only the singularity of that word, but how it can have more than one meaning. “Yes” can only be definitive when the circumstances allow it. The word “no” unquestionably has more finality.

MY MOTHER'S last word answered to something that is not quantifiable: “Mother, you do know how much I love you, don’t you?” I asked. The impatient way she answered let me know she was ready to move beyond this life. She had not spoken a word to anyone for several days. No one even knew if she could, but because I was hovering around her deathbed keeping vigil while she was probably moving in and out of this life, she mustered up the strength to speak. That single word in that moment expressed there was something incredible beyond our physical lives and she wanted to get on with it.

YES! PERIOD. That word will never be the same to me. I see it as endless possibility instead of limited admittance. No one is in physical control of the circumstances that allow it in the first place. The control lies within one's spirit and the unseen forces of the universe.

FOR A COUPLE of years before my mother died, I found glass hearts to tie on her Christmas gifts. I never thought then they would be the beginning of a posthumous collection by which to remember her. The two hearts in the upper left of this photo are the ones from gifts she received. The rest I’ve collected since her death. The pink-and-silver brooch in the photo was bought after I had a dream about her finding my Christmas gift for her. It is how I pictured it in the dream, which in turn, inspired how a tree was decorated for an earlier post. Maybe this blog has become a continual gift to her, even in spirit. I'm realizing how much soulful inspiration she still gives me by how often she appears here in what I write and create in photography.

ALL THE THINGS associated with Valentine's day have become resonant in holding these good memories. They are the lessons of the spirit. From the flowers that burst suddenly into bloom on important days (mother's day, her birthday and my birthday), the fragile heart made of glass, to the chocolates I always received on Christmas Eve from my parents when I was too old to believe in Santa. I emphatically  believe in the philosophy behind the line from the editorial so famously written (by Francis Pharcellus Church), which ran in the September 21, 1897 edition of the New York Sun: "Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus."

HER NAME, Lois Virginia Moland is engraved in everything I do and say. Today, the credit for giving me life, even in death remains the driving force of my creative spirit. The gift of life, the gift of caretaking and a spirit in touch with something larger; I can only repay by living this life in her honor. And I'll keep creating something from her continued inspiration, wherever it springs forth, whether it be a flower, a beautiful heart, or a piece of chocolate pie. Her love lives within me. Happy birthday mother!

FRAGILE HEARTS | (Top, right - clockwise from top, left): A red-gridded heart was tied on a special Christmas gift my mother received and is from Neiman Marcus, a pink antiqued mercury glass ornament is from Dillards, a red antiqued mercury glass ornament and a large silver gridded heart are from Macy's. The small silver heart is the oldest and was made by Inge Glas of Germany (denoted by the star-shaped hanger top). The velvet Valentine candy box is a current item from Lindt Chocolates. A painted box and brown box with red ribbon are both from past seasons at Target.

BLOOMING LOVE | (Above, left) This "clown" (red with white) amaryllis was a Christmas gift (as a bulb) that miraculously bloomed just in time for my mother's birthday (the photograph was taken this morning). The planter is from my collection of milk glass. Ivy has long been a symbol of friendship and is rooting in a glass lab container. The glass heart and white love ornament (a representation of the pop artist Robert Indiana's love sculpture) are both from Urban Outfitters. The unfinished white heart candy box is part of a Valentine kit from Martha Stewart Crafts, beautiful here without embellishment.

RESTING PLACE | (Right) The most permanent graphic design project I've ever assumed was designing the typographic layout for my parent's gravestone. I doubt if there are many gravestones using the font Mrs. Eaves. It is one of my favorite fonts and I've used it in a permanent way here and in the Man and Cat symbol tattoed on my arm. They are buried in East Gadsden, Alabama at Crestwood Memorial Cemetery.

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
photography and styling by Darryl Moland

 

the evergreen (tree)

AFTER ABUSING THEM last winter (ivy winters well in Atlanta, if you keep it watered), I've miraculously saved both of my ivy topiaries. One of them (photo at right) is looking pretty good right now. What were once very lush topiaries several years back, are now much more sparse. I like the sparseness—it's not so predictable—now that the ivy is older and has woody stems. The interlaced stems are beautiful by themselves. I must admit though, my other topiary is formed by mostly stems, but the hardy nature of English ivy has kept a bit of green interspersed. Ivy, like life does have a perniciously tenacious quality, huh? You must keep it watered and nourished and it will grow and fill out around the structure you've provided.

ACCORDING TO THE Topiary Organisation, the topiary is one of the most ancient of garden crafts. According to what I've learned over the years, living evergreen decoration has long been an element in winter solstice (and later, Christmas decorations). Pagan tradition holds the belief that winter evergreens are a promise for another spring—symbolizing life's continuity. Evergreen decorations became ritualized at temples and even inside the home in winter celebrations because of the promise of new life. This symbology became Christianized (even though the early Christian church banned the use of evergreens because of its pagan associations). We all know now that the evergreen has developed into the holiday (or Christmas) tree and is an everlasting symbol of hope and merriment for most of the world. Whatever your belief, there is definitely an underlying reason for the hold it has on our imaginations.

IVY HAS LONG BEEN a symbol of love and fidelity, but the reverence to nature is important to me in any case. It's indisputable that the evergreen tree is resonant with many of the world's people. My evergreen topiary trees are symbols in a satisfyingly austere way, and I'm happy I can keep them alive!

"When you create within a sacred paradigm, you find a strange thing.

You are communicating with, and being fed by, sources you know are within you,
but have a much greater reflection somewhere else.

You are in touch with something timeless.” —playwright Elizabeth Fuller

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
photography and styling by Darryl Moland

TENACIOUS TOPIARY | One of the survivors outside my door (above).

PEACE SYMBOL | The dove topiary 
at Forest Hills Cemetery in Boston (left).