There was a garden, not far from Milan, where magnolias flowered in late winter.“…Looking out of the window I see the buds on M.sargentiana robusta which are well advanced… This would mean that in the last week of February there would be something to see …”.(1)
Tall plants displayed pinkish and white buds far from the sky only for the length of their bare branches, standing out against the snowy peaks of the southern Alps and the foreshortenings of Lake Lugano.
The particular climate and the owner’s taste had privileged exotic plants for this terraced garden developed on a steep hillside, once a vineyard. It was crossed by an impetuous mountain stream, falling in a cascade incorporated, with dramatic effects, in the building of the Japanese style house. Deciduous magnolias were among the first plants to be introduced. A serious affaire and a real challenge, as in the seventies the market mainly offered nice but common hybrids. Researches to find new, exciting plants involved nurseries of tried reputation, private collectors, botanical gardens and experts from the whole world. An ever-expanding network of knowledge and materials, carefully cultivated during a life dedicated to politics, with different assignments, in several parts of the world.
Disappointing results and bitter failures were part of the adventures of this gardener, but good days always followed the troubled ones. The miraculous flowering of a M.maudiae, with white, rounded petals in a morning of March, effaced the heavy blow of the discovery that the perfect flowers of the hybrids of M.campbelli he expected were lost forever, as he had purchased seedlings and not grafted plants.
The precocious M.stellata, the darkest brightest pink of M.sprengeri, the elegant M.campbelli provided a luxurious canopy under which flourished many Himalayan plants, such as rhododendrons, acers, cornus and camellias. High bamboos grew fast trying to reach the terrace that overlooked the top of the trees, planted some thirty feet below. A winding path led you around the two-acres property under planted with bulbs, hellebores, cyclamen, peonies and many treasures hidden among the ferns. You could miss them if you had not an experienced eye or you were lucky enough to catch the explosion of flowers during your visit. In fact, it was a private garden generously opened to all garden lovers.
I first contacted Sir Peter Smithers with a formal, long letter, in January 1997. I received an enthusiastic reply, followed by a quick phone call to arrange the rendez-vous. I met a tall man, polite, practical and curious. He showed me the way down a stairs to the garden while he was walking towards the terrace, followed by his dog. He politely explained me that he was exhausted as he had spent the morning entertaining a numerous group of demanding gardeners from France. I plunged into the vegetation, loosing myself among paths, wandering up and down the hill. It looked like a natural forest, a wood sunken in a deep valley, with untidy corners and casual planting. It was the result of his taste and experience, and of the strict application of twelve principles, he had matured during his life. The first stated that the garden has to be a source of pleasure not a burden, especially for a man who was getting old. The last an invitation to share plants with other gardeners. In between, he defined the style of the garden and the plants: no annuals, biennials or plants requiring too many attentions, fragrant and aromatic plants as those with early or late flowers were privileged. Chosen among the best of their species, they must grow together creating a self-sustaining environment to reduce the intervention of man as time passed by. He was 65 years old when he designed and planned the garden in Vico Morcote to become an ecosystem.
I emerged on the terrace, opened on a small green lawn surrounded by soft cushions of azalea. He was waiting for me there. The mountains and the lake seemed painted sceneries. I looked with greedy eyes at several Chinese pots where flying dragons protected lotus flowers and citrus plants. We talked for a while. On my way out, we passed by the glasshouse where I glanced small pots carefully labelled. He confessed that breeding plants was his real passion, more than the garden itself. During the years, he successfully registered different new hybrids, among which was a tree peony dedicated to his wife: “Dojean”, from P.rockii.
I visited again the garden three years later. At the beginning of April, the terrace was enveloped in the generous flowering of Wisterias. Poetic names and soft hues added a magic touch to the amazing sight of those long, supple branches filled with flowers that jumped from the terrace into the void.
I wish I had visited this garden again, had talked longer and had asked more questions. Sir Peter Smithers died in 2006. He strongly believed that garden is a personal creation and cannot survive its creator. In his last years, he gifted different gardens with his collections while the Lindley Library in London received his archive and documentation.
However, his words are not lost forever. In 1995, he published a book: "Adventures of a Gardener". The story of his life and of his lifelong love for plants starts just with the twelve principles that guided his last years in gardening. Several photographs complete the book, as he was a keen and passionate photographer too.
Early magnolias in flower remind me of that wide extend of cream and pinkish fat buds, seen from a terrace next to a tall man with smiling eyes, listening to the sound of running water, in front of majestic peaks.
Note:(1) quotation from a letter received from Sir Peter Smithers, January 1997.
Garden visited:
Sir Peter Smithers, Vico Morcote, Switzerland.
Further reading:
Adventures of a gardener, Peter Smithers, The Harvill Press, London 1995.
Photos:
Travel in a garden.
Links:
www.smithers-foundation.com/
