Eomecon chionantha, the snow poppy or dawn poppy, is an uncommon perennial plant from China, and the only species in the genus. It has delicate white poppy-like flowers with yellow stamens sporadically through the summer and into autumn. The fleshy leaves, an attractive feature in their own right, are glaucous green, and kidney-shaped with scalloped edges. In a mild winter it is evergreen. It forms spreading clumps on long rhizomes when happy.
Eomecon chionantha
In its native habitat it grows on riverbanks and in moist woodlands in eastern China. In the garden it appreciates moist, humus rich soils in partial shade. It will take full sun but not drought. It is not prone to pests or diseases in general but may need protection from slugs.
The generic name derives from the Greek eos meaning dawn or the east and mekon meaning poppy (as in Meconopsis). The specific name chion meaning snow and anthos meaning flower give the plant its common name. It is also sometimes known as Chinese Bloodroot or Asian Bloodroot. It is related to Sanguinaria, the Bloodroot of North America, and like its relatives bleeds a reddish sap from cut rhizomes.
Ypsilandra thibetica is an attractive and unusual evergreen perennial, not common in the U.K., native to southwestern China and Taiwan. There are five other species in the genus, all from East Asia. It usually has white scented flowers which become slightly coppery or pink as they age, with pale blue anthers. Some forms have pink or pale lilac flowers, and the flowering stems reach about 30 centimetres tall. The leaves are strap-like and form rosettes, bulking up slowly to form a clump of multiple rosettes.
Ypsilandra needs at least partial shade, not too dry and not too hot in the summer. It likes a humus rich soil. In its natural habitat it grows on wooded slopes, and it is best to plant it with the rosette of foliage at a slight angle to allow water to run off and avoid the risk of rotting.
The generic name comes from the Greek ‘ypsilo’ (y-shaped) and andros (anthers). It is used in Traditional Chinese Medicine to stop bleeding amongst other things.
These three related genera contain some excellent perennials for shade and deserve to be more widely grown. The genus Disporopsis is closely related to Polygonatum and its common name is Evergreen Solomon’s Seal. The genus Disporum has had rather a convoluted taxonomic history, having at various times been included in the Convallariaceae (with Disporopsis), Liliaceae, Asparagaceae, and Uvulariaceae. More recent genetic research places it in the family Colchicaceae. Disporum and Disporopsis are native to temperate parts of Asia, especially China, Japan, Korea and Taiwan. The genus Prosartes contains the North American species which were previously included in Disporum.
Disporopsis aspersa
Disporopsis are quite tough little plants, with small white or cream, sometimes purple spotted, bell shaped flowers in spring. The flowers are usually lemon scented, and followed by purple berries. They form clumps from slowly spreading rhizomes, and although they prefer moist woodland conditions, will tolerate dry shade. Disporopsispernyi, from China, is the most widely available of the eleven or so species. Besides being evergreen, Disporopsis species have the significant advantage over their herbaceous relatives of being untroubled by Solomon’s Seal Sawfly.
Disporum bodinieri
Disporum is a larger and more varied genus, with approximately twenty five species, and includes some striking architectural plants. It is probably the most ornamental of the three genera, but unfortunately a little fussier as to cultivation than Disporopsis. Disporumlongistylum ‘Green Giant’ is a Dan Hinkley introduction from Sichuan, China, with bamboo like stems up to 8 feet tall, and delicate greenish white flowers. Disporumlongistylum ‘Night Heron’ is a slightly shorter plant with amazing dark, chocolatey new foliage in spring. One of my personal favourites, Disporumbodinieri, is a more delicate plant at 2-3 feet tall, with pretty cream bell shaped flowers in May. Some forms of Disporumcantoniense have attractive purple flowers, whilst Disporumuniflorum has comparatively large yellow flowers. Disporumsessile is a shorter Japanese species, one foot to eighteen inches tall, of which there are many different variegated forms, showing the Japanese horticultural love of both variegation and finding infinite varieties of their native species. Disporumsmilacinum is another species with many variegated forms cultivated in Japan, and also a pink flowered form. They all require at least partial shade, humus rich soil, and adequate moisture, being less tolerant of dry conditions than Disporopsis. Some species are evergreen or semi-evergreen, and most have black berries.
Disporum uniflorum
Finally, Prosartes, the North American genus, shares its common name of Fairy Bells with Disporum. There are currently six species. Most are shorter, to about 2 feet tall. The most commonly encountered are Prosarteshookeri, known as ‘Drops of Gold’ because of its protruding yellow anthers, and Prosartes smithii, also known as ‘Fairy Lanterns’. The flowers are generally followed by red berries, which are reputedly edible though not especially flavoursome. Unlike Disporum and Disporopsis, which are clearly quite tasty, the leaves of Prosartes species contain a compound which deters slugs and snails.
There are well over 200 species and varieties of temperate bamboo, and more being introduced all the time, but if I could only have one, this would be it.
Borinda papyrifera CS1046
Borinda papyrifera CS1046 is a clump-forming bamboo collected from Yunnan in southwest China by Chris Stapleton (hence ‘CS’). The specific epithet ‘papyrifera’ refers to the large, papery sheaths which protect the emerging culms.
This year’s culm showing the pale colouration and the papery sheath that gives the plant its name.
Its most striking and ornamental feature is the icy blue colour of its new culms. This colour is quite persistent, lasting a couple of years before fading to a more greenish shade. The culms are thick – about 2 inches in diameter on my 10 year old plant – and the leaves are quite large.
The 10 year old plant in my garden is now some 2.5m (8ft) across.
Though clump-forming it is by no means small. At 6m (20ft) plus with culms more widely spaced than many clumpers it is perhaps best described as statuesque. It would make an ideal specimen plant.
Borinda papyrifera CS1046 is not tremendously hardy as a young plant, but once established is much tougher. Mine was cut almost to the ground as a youngster in the hard winter of 2010, though it came back quite strongly, but didn’t lose a leaf in the ‘Beast from the East’ in 2018. Other clones of Borinda papyrifera are available, some of which were collected at higher altitudes and may prove hardier.
The same plant as above, after the winter of 2010.
It is reasonably tolerant of drought once established, but will tend to abort some culms in dry summers. My plant has attained its current size without extra watering until this year when I gave in to the realities of the changing climate and bought a hose. I also haven’t fed it, but always leave the shed leaves and sheaths in the base of the clump, which break down slowly and return their nutrients to the plant.
Unfortunately this very desirable bamboo is tricky to propagate, partly because it is quick to mature, which makes it hard to find and somewhat expensive. A variety called Fargesia ‘Blue Panda’ is being sold, which is apparently a micro-propagated form of Borinda papyrifera CS1046. If anything it seems to be more expensive than the original and, given what poor plants micro-propped Phyllostachys make, it would be wise to wait until more is known about its performance before buying it. Personally I would only buy a hand-propagated Borinda.
Bamboo is an extremely effective and decorative screen in the garden. Being evergreen, it blocks unsightly views all year round. The gentle sound of the foliage and its thickness means it is quite effective at filtering unwanted noise as well. Bamboo can also be used as a windbreak, although in exposed positions only the tougher species such as Pseudosasa japonica should be used. Pseudosasa japonica is also the best choice for screening salt winds, though measures must be taken to manage its spread. As always with bamboo, the most important thing is to choose the right variety in the first place.
Borinda papyrifera CS1046
The first thing to consider is height. If you want a really tall screen, over about 4m (16ft), you will need to go for a running bamboo. Clumpers don’t generally get above this height, and some are quite a bit shorter. Most Borinda species (clumpers) are exceptions to this, but are both expensive and hard to find. So if you wanted a tall but narrowish screen, where one plant would do, a Borinda would be a very attractive possibility. If you are looking at screening a longer length, a Phyllostachys species would be more economical. Phyllostachys aurea is widely available, tough, very hardy, and grows 5-8m (16-26ft) depending on conditions. It is a running bamboo, but generally quite well-behaved. (For more on clumping and running bamboos see here). For a taller screen still, Phyllostachys vivax or one of its forms would be a good choice. It can get over 8m (26ft) in the right conditions. It’s also quick to mature, with lovely thick culms, and several of the forms are very decorative, such as P. vivax f. aureocaulis which is a beautiful sunshine yellow with occasional fine green stripes. On the downside it doesn’t have much foliage low down on the culms, and is more vigorously spreading than P. aurea.
Phyllostachys vivax f. aureocaulis
The next thing to consider is the width of the planting. Generalising somewhat, running bamboos tend to be more upright, while clumpers tend to have a wide mushroom cloud of foliage over a narrower clump of culms. You should also consider the width of the planting area available. The taller you want your bamboo to be, the more growing space for the rhizomes you will need. So, for example, if you had a bed 30cm (1ft) wide, you couldn’t grow a bamboo to 8m (26ft) tall in that space. In fact only the smallest bamboos, such as Pleioblastus auricomus at 1-2m (3-6.5ft), could be grown in such a narrow space, and as it is quite invasive would need work to control it. The best option for such a small space would be to grow bamboos in containers.
Phyllostachys aurea ‘Koi’, with three sided concrete paver barrier visible behind it. This was one of the first bamboos I planted in my current garden about 12 years ago and it is still nowhere near needing that barrier though technically a runner!
The third factor to consider is how you will control the spread of your bamboo screen. If you are planting along a boundary I would always recommend using a barrier of some kind, even if you are planting clumpers. Though they will never send out runners, the clumps do expand in width every year and will eventually come up just the other side of the fence. There are a number of options you can use. I use a line of recycled concrete pavers on edge in the ground, overlapping an inch or so and also sticking up an inch or so above soil level. They are angled very slightly away from the bamboo, so that a runner meeting them is encouraged upwards. When it pokes over the barrier it is easy to see and trim. Bamboo rhizome barrier is available, but not cheap, and I know of one grower who swears by damp proof membrane! For a running bamboo you can encircle the entire planting area with a barrier, giving it the most space allowable, but after many years it will effectively become ‘potbound’ and will try to break through. I put a barrier along no more than three sides of a plant, so it can only spread out of bounds in one direction and I can cut and dig out rhizomes should it eventually become necessary.
Fourthly, and related to all the above factors, is whether to plant your screen of bamboos in the ground or grow them in pots. The advantage of growing in containers is that the spread is controlled and you can grow almost any species you like regardless of how invasive it would be in the ground. The disadvantages are that the plants will stay shorter than they would in the ground, and that you will have to water them. Bamboos established in the ground are pretty drought tolerant, but in pots will die if allowed to dry out completely. If you need height, P. vivax will still get to a decent height in pots, and the larger the container you can give it the taller it will get.
Fargesia rufa, a clumping bamboo which forms a mushroom of foliage.
The final thing to consider is the likelihood of flowering. Bamboos flower very infrequently, with gaps for many species upwards of thirty years. However, there is always a small chance, and clumpers in particular are likely to die if they flower completely (more on bamboo flowering here). If planting a long row of clumping bamboos it is a very good idea to choose a mix of species and varieties, so that if you are unlucky you only lose one or two plants and not the whole row. Fargesia nitida and its numerous forms have flowered since the 2000s so are unlikely to flower again soon. A number of hybrids between F. nitida and F. murielae have recently become available, show promising vigour (F. murielae itself is very slow to get going) and also should not flower for many years. F. robusta and its forms are among the taller clump formers at 4-5m (14-16ft). F. rufa is one of the shortest, topping out at 3m (10ft), but has a particularly wide cloud of foliage, is quick growing, and tough as old boots.
One of the most evocative of Japanese plants, Acer palmatum cultivars are easy to grow as long as they are sited correctly. Whether in the ground or in containers they need shelter from cold or drying winds. Cool dappled shade is the ideal position. Green cultivars, and some purples, tolerate sun best. Red leaved cultivars need some sun, or the colour will not develop properly, but don’t like full sun all day. Variegated or more delicate dissectum and linearilobum cultivars will need shade at least during the hottest part of the day to prevent scorching and some, like ‘Ukigumo’, can only be grown successfully in shade.
Acer palmatum ‘Katsura’
They do best in a moist but well-drained soil with plenty of organic matter, ideally slightly acidic. In a container, the standard advice is to use John Innes 2 or 3, mixed with an ericaceous compost, but it is better for the environment to use a good quality peat free ericaceous, such as those available from Sylvagrow or Dalefoot. Top pots with gravel to suppress weeds, or mulch well with compost or leafmould in the ground, but make sure the mulch doesn’t touch the trunk. Feed with a balanced fertiliser in spring before the leaves emerge.
Acer palmatum ‘Omureyama’ starting to colour in autumn
Correct watering is important. They need a good supply of moisture, and won’t tolerate either drought or water-logging well. They are quite shallow rooted, so make sure they are not crowded by other plants competing with them. Besides, they are best given space to show off their beautiful form.
Emerging foliage of Acer palmatum ‘Katsura’
Acers are perfectly hardy, but in pots their roots are more vulnerable to frost, so in colder area the pots should be wrapped in fleece or moved to a protected spot in winter. Acers come into leaf very early in the year and the new foliage can be caught by late frosts. This won’t kill them but will set them back, so protect with fleece when frosts are expected.
Acers don’t need much pruning – simply removed dead, damaged or diseased branches, and any that are crossing and rubbing. Prune when the tree is dormant, between November and February, and be sure to cut back to just above a bud. A long stub left above a cut can be an entry point for disease or dieback.
Iris ensata (syn. Iris kaempferi) is one of the archetypal plants of the Japanese garden. They are rhizomatous, beardless irises, native to East Asia. They have fans of strap shaped leaves and flowering stems 2-4ft tall. They flower in early summer, with two or three large, exotic-looking flowers on a stem, in shades of purple, blue, white, and pink.
They are extremely hardy, down to -20ºC, zone 4 in the US. They will grow in full sun to partial shade, as long as they get at least 6 hours of sun, and like a loose, slightly acidic damp soil with plenty of organic matter. It is especially important in the spring, in the run up to their early summer flowering, that they have plentiful moisture.
Iris ensata ‘Moonlight Waves’
They are sometimes sold as marginal plants, and are happy to be grown in shallow water, as long as the crown of the plant is not covered, during spring and summer. However, they need to be lifted out of the water over winter or they are likely to rot. The old foliage should be cut back to the ground in the winter, after it has been knocked back by the first frost.
Iris ensata ‘Rose Queen’
Iris ensata are heavy feeders and will benefit from a generous feed of a balanced fertiliser for acid-loving plants in the early spring and again after flowering, and a good mulch to help retain moisture. It’s good to add plenty of organic matter to the soil when they are planted or divided, but don’t add fertiliser at this point. Bone meal should be avoided as it is actively harmful to Japanese irises.
Iris ensata ‘Grayswood Catrina’
It’s very important to divide and transplant Japanese Irises every three to four years to maintain vigour. New roots form above the old each year, so over time the crown of the plant rises above the soil, potentially causing it to fail. To divide, dig up the plant and divide it into individual sections or fans, or slightly larger sections of 2-4 fans each. The oldest roots and rhizomes – the lowest – should be removed, and the foliage cut back to about 1/3 of its length. The divisions should be planted 2-3 inches deep. in fresh soil where Iris ensata has not been grown for the previous three years, and kept well watered. It is best to divide Japanese Irises in spring or autumn, avoiding the heat of mid-summer, though in cooler areas they can be divided immediately after flowering.
Iris ensata ‘Oku Banri’
Iris ensata have been cultivated in Japan for at least five hundred years, and possibly much longer. Extensive Iris breeding began in the late Edo period, around the 1800s. Japanese Irises were introduced to the West by Carl Thunberg in 1794, and again by von Siebold in the 1850s (as Iris kaempferi). Many varieties have been bred in the United States as well. Some 2000 varieties are now available.
A symbol of wealth and honour, peonies are known as the King of Flowers and have been cultivated in China for millennia. Like many traditional plants of the Chinese garden, they were originally cultivated for medicinal purposes and are mentioned in the Shennong Bencao Jing, an ancient materia medica written circa 200-250 AD, recording oral traditions dating back much further. Some records indicate they were cultivated as far back as the Xia (the possibly mythical first dynasty, 2000-1766 BC).
New Year peony festival at the South China Botanical Garden, Guangzhou
Before the Qin dynasty (221-206 BC) not much distinction was made between herbaceous peonies, shaoyao, and tree peonies, mudan, which were simply called tree shaoyao. Paintings from around 400 AD depict peonies in the background, showing that they have been cultivated as ornamentals for at least 1600 years. By the Sui dynasty, 581-618 AD, individual varieties were being recorded, and twenty boxes of peonies were sent as tribute to the Emperor from Hubei. In the early Tang dynasty, peonies were an imperial flower, only permitted to be grown in imperial gardens. They soon spread, however, and were planted in temple and monastery gardens. In the 8th century they were introduced to Japan by a Buddhist monk.
Peonies, by Yun Shouping, 17th century
There is a legend that the Tang Empress Wu Zetian visited a garden in the winter. Nothing was in flower, so she ordered all the plants to bloom. The next day, despite the snow, all the plants had obeyed the Empress and flowered, except the peony. Enraged, she banished it from the capital to Luoyang, where it bloomed profusely. Subject to the vicissitudes of war and changing dynasties, Luoyang has been the capital of China’s peony industry ever since.
Paeonia x suffructicosa ‘Cai Hui’, Brightly Coloured Painting
The first monograph on peonies, written in 1034 AD, described 24 double and semi-double varieties. The large double ‘Thousand-Petalled’ varieties were the most popular, new varieties costing as much as a hundred bushels of rice. At least two of the varieties, Yao’s Yellow and Wei Purple, are still in cultivation. By the 1800s, a single plant could cost 1000 coins.
Paeonia x suffructicosa ‘Xiang Yu’, Fragrant Jade
In 1655, English visitors from the East India Company saw peonies in Beijing and sent accounts home. More than a hundred years later, in 1787, Joseph Banks asked the Company’s representative in China, Alexander Duncan, to send plants to Kew. The Kew plants have not survived but a plant from that first introduction was moved from Duncan’s own garden to the Edinburgh Botanical Gardens and can still be seen there.
Further introductions through the late 18th and early 19th century culminated in Robert Fortune’s third expedition, 1848-1851, when he obtained 30 of the best tree peonies available in Shanghai, as well as herbaceous peonies for grafting. The latter half of the 19th century saw hundreds of peony varieties offered for sale by nurseries across Europe. Kelways nursery in the U.K., famous for peonies, dates from this period.
The peony was the national flower of China until 1928, when the government of the Republic of China replaced it with the plum blossom instead, which was a symbol of resilience in hard times, and not as closely associated with China’s imperial past. The People’s Republic of China has no official national flower, though the peony consistently tops polls held to choose one, by a huge margin.
Willows are one of the plants most closely associated with Chinese gardens. In the West, they are inextricably linked with China through ‘Willow Pattern’ plates – though in fact the pattern originated in England, part of the 18th century craze for Chinoiserie.
Though the ‘Willow Pattern’ itself is inauthentic, willows are truly an essential plant in the Chinese garden.
The weeping willow, Salix babylonica, is native to northern China and probably made its way to Europe along the Silk Road. It was named by Linnaeus, and the specific epithet is due to the fact that, through a mistranslation, it was incorrectly believed to be the tree mentioned in the Bible as growing ‘by the rivers of Babylon’. Many of the weeping willows seen in the U.K. nowadays are hybrids between Salix babylonica and forms of our native willow, Salix alba, which are better suited to our climate.
Willows in Tongli water town, Jiangsu
In Chinese culture, willow has a number of symbolic meanings. It is associated with spring and rebirth. Its pliability suggests meekness and humility. It is associated with friendship, because of its intertwining branches, and also with parting from friends. Traditionally a willow branch was given as a parting gift, because its name in Chinese – 柳 liǔ – sounds like a word for ‘stay’. It was believed to have the power to repel evil spirits, and was used to sweep tombs on the Qingming festival. A branch might be fixed to the front door of a house to ward off harm.
Leifeng pagoda, West Lake, Hangzhou
Willow was also a symbol of female beauty, sometimes compared to the waist of a beautiful woman in poems. Its pliability also suggested frailty, however, and its combined associations with spring, the season of sexual desire, and femininity, meant it was also used as a symbol for prostitution. So the innocent sounding chengyu (Chinese idiom) 花街柳巷 Flower Street and Willow Lane actually means a red light district.
Willows by the pond in the Lingering garden, Suzhou
In the Chinese garden, willows are planted beside water. They are one of the few plants mentioned by name in Ji Chang’s The Craft of Gardens, where he always mentions planting them by water. The rectangular lattice work windows were known as willow leaf pattern.
It is sometimes said that a Chinese garden is built rather than planted. The essential physical elements are rocks, water, plants, and buildings. Ji Cheng, in the Ming classic The Craft of Gardens (1631) recommended starting a garden with water. In the Chinese garden, as in the landscape, water is yin, the opposite of mountains which are yang. The two opposites in balance embody the harmony of nature.
“For every ten parts of land, three should be made into a pond, of irregular shape so that it is interesting, and preferably made by dredging out an existing stream. Of the remaining seven-tenths, four should be built up with earth – how high or low is of no importance – and be planted with bamboo in a harmonious way.”
(Ji Cheng, The Craft of Gardens)
Artificial mountain with grotto beneath overlooking a pond. Pearl Pagoda Garden, Tongli
Rocks in the garden are often piled up to make an artificial mountain, with a path leading to a pavilion on top. The views from the top are carefully planned. There may be a grotto beneath. Both mountain and grotto echo the abodes of the Daoist Immortals.
‘Bamboo Shoot’ rocks in the Couple’s Retreat Garden, Suzhou
Individual rocks are admired for their aesthetic qualities, and have been for centuries. The most famous of these ‘Scholars’ Rocks’ are called Taihu rocks, limestone features formed by erosion deep in Lake Tai. From the Tang dynasty onwards it became fashionable to use these in gardens. The ‘Cloud Capped Peak’ in the first photo is a famous Taihu rock, said to be a relic from the collection of rocks ordered by Emperor Huizong (reigned 1100-1126 AD) of the Song dynasty.
Rocks may also represent imaginary landscapes, as in this penjing in the Lion Grove Garden, Suzhou:
Buildings are a vital part of the Chinese garden. A large part of The Craft of Gardens enumerates the many types of different structures that can be constructed, as well as discussing in detail elements such as walls, doorways, lattice windows, paving, and bridges.
Doorway in the Couple’s Retreat Garden, Suzhou. This is a visual pun – ‘ping’, the word for vase, sounds like the word for peace.
Many traditional Chinese houses are built around one or more courtyards. With the addition of various pavilions, halls, and of course a library (no scholar’s garden could be without one) the division between inside and outside is often not clearly marked, especially in the warm sub-tropical south of the country. Buildings in the garden are released from the formal Confucian regularity of the main house, and indeed symmetry is to be avoided.
“…buildings in gardens are different from ordinary dwelling-houses, for they must have order in variety and yet their orderliness should not be too rigid: even this orderliness should have a pleasing unpredictability, and yet at their most diverse there should be an underlying consistency.”
(Ji Cheng, The Craft of Gardens)
Building in the Lion Grove Garden, Suzhou
The last element in the Chinese garden is the plants. Although China – described by E.H. Wilson as ‘The Mother of Gardens’ – has huge botanical diversity, Chinese gardens use a fairly restrained palette of plants.
Lotus pond in the Humble Administrator’s Garden, Suzhou
They are mostly chosen for their symbolic value, with meanings acquired over many centuries. Many of these will be dealt with in more detail in later posts. Key Chinese garden plants include bamboo; pines; willows; chrysanthemums; orchids; peonies; plum (Prunus mume, more commonly known in the West as Japanese Apricot); lotus; wisteria; and peach.
Bamboo and rock, framed through a window and against a white wall to create a living painting in the Lingering Garden, Suzhou
A Westerner reading The Craft of Gardens may be surprised by how little mention is made of plants, with very few mentioned by name, and only one snippet of what we might consider gardening advice (on training roses).
Subtropical planting in the Qinghui Garden, Shunde, Guangdong. This southern garden in the Lingnan style boasts over 100 species of plants.
Ji Cheng considered the placing of garden buildings and features, perhaps especially rocks, as more difficult and requiring of a refined taste and a sensitivity to the nature of the site.
“The hidden significance of mountains and forests needs deep study, whereas the temperament of flowers and trees is easy to grasp.”
(Ji Cheng, The Craft of Gardens)
Indeed it is the atmosphere of a Chinese garden, its indefinable essence, that is the most important element of all. A Chinese garden is a microcosm of the world, and a retreat from it. Inspired by nature, it is a work of careful artifice. It is a search for immortality which at the same time reminds us of the passing of the seasons and the transience of life.
It is hard to appreciate all the beauty of the Chinese garden without some understanding of its history and place in an ancient horticultural tradition, its religious and philosophical roots, its inspiration in the Chinese landscape and its links to Chinese artistic culture, especially painting and poetry. These elements will be addressed in later posts.
Japonica Plants Nursery 