When there's barely a moment to pause for breath and questions and decisions need to be answered or made at every turn, its reassuring to know that one element of the chelsea garden is finalised, complete and out of my hands; the green wall boundary.
The RHS Chelsea show garden that I've designed for the British Heart Foundation (in association with Brewin Dolphin) comprises some really strong architecture. The arching red structures that sweep through the space need a gentle backdrop that allows them to be enjoyed without distraction. A green wall seemed the perfect foil.
I like the idea that the green textural planting of the garden floor doesn't end with the horizontal plane; instead the energy and effusive nature of the plants themselves have forced themselves out and up towards the sky. I want the boundaries to be another planting opportunity, as if the garden's borders can't be contained, and are spilling from the space, taking hold wherever they're given half a chance; wilfuly wild if you will. Comprised of ferns, ivy and the lesser known crevice filler Selaginella kraussiana, Richard Sabin of Biotecture has had the wall planted up for about a month now, and it's looking good. He's happy that the plants are settling in nicely, but wants a few days of consecutive sunshine for them to bolt away, knit together and form the shaggy, touchy feely verdancy that I'm striving for. I shall visit for a furtle myself some time next week.
But until then, no rain dances please.
