Beauty and the brief
Hello!
Don’t ask me about the Wordle or world news this week. I’ve been skipping them both to binge as much Chelsea Flower Show coverage as possible.
In my earlier London life, this week was always a source of great anticipation: the trends, the plants, the pantheon of celebrity gardeners. I had my outfit picked out weeks ahead, and baked my own scones specially for the day, so as not to waste a moment at the showgrounds in any queues.
Designing, building and growing a Chelsea garden is an exacting process. The original concept is submitted 12–14 months in advance in written briefs and mood boards. (I used to submit my request for the day off to attend on roughly the same timeline.) A final brief is submitted to the judges 4–6 weeks ahead of the show.
That is the measure: judging is not simply about how splendid the garden looks, although that is very important. It is a test of how faithfully the real garden delivers on the imagined one.
Each garden is judged in a field of one – itself. Scores are calculated against criteria, not by comparison, then tallied. Which means that, yes, it is possible to have five gold medals in a show – or none!
Far more goes into achieving that gold standard than meets the eye. The horticultural gymnastics are astonishing: greenhouse heaters, fans, shade cloth, all carefully orchestrated to speed up or slow down growth so every paving stone, shrub and flower can be PERFECT for judging.
Part of my fun of visiting or watching the show is spotting familiar plants in the prize-winning gardens. Lupins I’ve grown and loved. Clouds of ammi. Delphiniums and snapdragons being busily tended by bees. These are things that connect the world’s most famous flower show to my muddy boots and our mountain weather.
Even better is how over the years more and more of those illustrious “Chelsea plants” become available to ordinary gardeners. Sometimes, even the seeds. It’s a catwalk, and a protracted shopping trip of earthly delights.
For me, some of the most exciting gardens are the therapeutic and restorative ones — spaces designed to host people as they are and are able, so they can feel calm, curious, and connected to nature. But many of the gardens that look and feel easy — whether at Chelsea or in Canaan Valley — are anything but effortless. (Same goes for a farm-fresh bouquet!)
Beneath all the glamour and spectacle, this – IMO, the greatest show on earth – is a time for celebrating something every gardener understands: coaxing beauty into existence; negotiating with weather, pollinators and pests; adapting to setbacks and surprises.
This spring has certainly reminded me of that. As we’ve lurched between cold snaps and sudden heat, frost warnings and blazing afternoons, every day has involved some combination of hauling frost cloth, checking and rechecking weather apps, trying not to get ahead of myself but also staying on track. If gardening requires optimism, flower farming borders on delusion.
Here’s to having a very fertile imagination (haha)!
But now, with the last frost date finally (mostly) behind us, my “Fields of Dreams” are beginning to answer back. Pulling away the frost cloth reveals rows of sunflowers, snapdragons, delphiniums, and many others settling in, growing taller, forming buds. Trays of seedlings are waiting their turn. My world is shifting from preparation and possibility to actual petals.
Which is probably why, despite being many miles (and years) away from the Main Avenue, I still love the Chelsea Flower Show so much!
Let there be flowers — and herbs!
Lizz
P.S. Mark your calendars, the market season is beginning:
• This Friday, May 22, 4:30-7pm – pop-up with Licking Creek Farm and others, in Davis, across from Big Timber
• This Saturday, May 23, ArtSpring, 11am-5pm – look for the purple canopy by the entry to the Davis VFD Fire Hall
• Sundays – pop-up, 2:30-5pm in Canaan Valley by the Canaan Valley Garage on Rt 32/Appalachian Highway