Pollarding by Cass Turnbull

PlantAmnesty   

Pollarding By Cass Turnbull

WHAT IS POLLARDING? Pollarding is a form of pruning “art”. A special ornamental effect is achieved in keeping a big tree small. The large caliper trunk is strongly contrasted by a relatively small, compact crown. Some trees are pollarded to accentuate secondary features, increasing leaf size (Catalpa, Paulownia) or stimulating bright barked water sprouts (Salix). Correct pollarding is achieved through species selection, early training, and extensive, dedicated annual maintenance. As with most pruning art, pollarded trees are rarely planted as individuals, but are best suited to mass plantings and/or as part of an overall formal design.

POLLARDING VS. TOPPING Pollarding is not the same as tree topping and everyone who aspires to be taken seriously as an arborist or horticulturist needs to be clear on the difference. Pollarding bears a superficial resemblance to tree topping. But then again, a surgery looks a lot like a mugging, to the untrained eye. In both cases somebody puts a knife in the subject's stomach and relieves him of all his money. The big difference is that one maintains the long-range health of the subject. Pollarding, like topping, eliminates the natural beauty of a tree's branch structure. It is extremely high maintenance, just like tree topping. Unlike topping, it maintains the long-term health of the tree. In Europe, pollarded trees have survived five hundred years actually living longer than their natural counterparts. This is not an endorsement of pollarding. No one in this day and age can guarantee consistency in tree care for five hundred years. And like topped

trees, pollarded trees become dangerous when they are abandoned. No matter how strong the resolve or good the intentions of a current tree owner or arborist, most of these trees will eventually fall into the hands of those who are unwilling to maintain them. And, worse yet, unwilling to take them out.

HOW DID IT START? Pollarding began in Europe as a practical way to harvest a tree without killing it. Sustainable forestry is not a new idea, you see. A young deciduous tree would be headed back at a point above the reach of foraging deer and livestock, and then regrown. The resulting water sprouts (also called suckers by some) would be cut off every year or two for use as animal fodder, made into baskets and brooms, or bundled together for firewood. Soon the tree would form a callused knob from which the water sprouts would regrow. The water sprouts regrow annually from dormant buds on the pollard head and are cut off again and again at their points of origin. The swollen pollard heads are also considered ornamental features in and of themselves. They represent a sort of grotesque beauty, reminiscent of stark, black and white photos of very old people. These things are not beautiful in the classic pastoral or pretty sense (like a landscape painting or a statue of David) but they have an emotional appeal. Whether you like it or not is strictly a matter of personal taste. Pollarding, unlike topping, is horticulturally defensible. It does exactly what it is supposed to do.

Many forms of pruning art started as agricultural endeavors. Coppicing (cutting a tree or shrub to the ground routinely) was originally invented for the same reasons as pollarding. Espalier (pruning a plant to two dimensions, like against a wall) was done for efficient fruit production.

People are attracted to natural things that have been highly manipulated. Such work becomes its own aesthetic. Bonsai combines the appeal of highly manipulated nature with another basic human affinity—miniaturization. One can easily imagine the aristocracy of old Europe seizing upon the notion of a Big Tree Kept Small and planting miles and miles of them along their narrow boulevards and throughout castle grounds. These endless rows of lollypops were for their pleasure and amusement. Never mind the incredible amounts of repetitive, mindless labor they required. Serf labor was plentiful and, above all else, cheap.

HOW IS IT DONE?

Correct Species The right species must be used. Traditionally pollarded species include Planes, Sycamores, Pawlonia, Catalpa, Linden, Ailanthus, and Aesculus.

The Essential First Cut The tree trunk or branches are headed back to the point where the pollard heads are to be located. The first training cuts on the tree should be less than one inch in diameter, when the tree is young (Dr. Shigo says a young tree is under fifteen years old). Starting with large cuts on an older tree is unacceptable. The pollard head protects the trunk from rot. If the pollard head is removed, the trunk rots out and the pollard is ruined.

In fact, early training is essential. The A-300 pruning standards recently adopted by the American National Standards Institute (a major victory for trees and arborists in most respects) omit early training as part of the definition of pollarding. But without it, anyone can claim that the tree they topped is pollarded. They simply promise to remove the sprouts every year (of course, they never get around to coming back after a year or two). It's a loophole big enough to drive a truck and chipper through. Maybe no one will notice.

PlantAmnesty led a mutilated tree protest in Seattle several years back when a tree service topped eight Plane trees on the street right-of-way. The cuts on those trees were up to twelve inches in diameter, and reduced the fifty- foot trees to about fifteen feet. Late in the game, we discovered that, soon after the first tree was topped, a representative from the City arborist's office came out and backed-up the tree service's claim that the trees were being pollarded. A city arborist took the time to drive the shocked homeowner to a row of correctly pollarded Catalpas, asserting that the two cases were the same. That was eight years ago and the surviving Plane trees have not been pruned since.

Pollard Styles Usually trees are trained to a single head or a series of pollarded branches originating from one point. As a simple guideline, one third of the total height of the tree should comprise the crown and two-thirds the trunk. If the pollard heads are located too far out on the branches, the branch may break. Other styles exist including vertical and “free form”.

Sprout Removal Sprouts that regrow from the pollard head are removed every year. Annual upkeep is also essential for success. Removing the sprouts every year from the time the tree is young ensures that the tree never becomes dependent on more canopy than it can grow in one year. Furthermore, if sprouts are left to become older, they develop heartwood and become less able to react to the cutting, once again allowing rot to enter the tree.

At the base of each sprout, a small bulge or collar can be seen where it attaches to the pollard head. Cut to it, but not into it. On the other hand, don't leave stubs. In other words—don't cut too close or too far, but just right.

Most books and articles on the topic of pollarding say to remove all the sprouts either in the early or late winter, depending on whether or not the view desired in the tree's dormancy is of a thick canopy of sprouts or of the barren pollard heads. This has been the procedure since pollarding began.

More recent literature (the A-300 Pruning Standards and Arborist News Aug. 1996 article on pollarding) requires that some sprouts be left. The reason for the change is unclear. Dr. Kim Coder sheds some light in saying, “One or two living sprouts should be present on every pollard head each year. The terminal bud(s) and foliage generate growth control signals that influence food allocation, defenses, and resource use in the branch, stem and roots.” Leaving one or two sprouts would seem to compromise the winter aesthetics and complicate the procedure of sprout removal. More exact information would be useful if we are to break from traditional pollarding technique.

CONTEXT Pollarding is no longer a utilitarian activity. It is a form of pruning art. As such, it needs to be part of a larger formal landscape design. There are famous rows of pollarded trees in Golden Gate Park, and the stately rows of pollarded Planes at Filoli are quite impressive. Even the individual pollarded trees along the narrow streets of San Francisco look appropriate against the ornate gingerbread buildings. But as one moves out to the more typical American “burbs”, pollarding, even done correctly, looks anachronistic at best. It's like keeping an Eiffel Tower in your back yard. It just doesn't work. Pollarded trees look right in formal gardens, especially public gardens where they have half a chance of receiving the needed continuum of care.

To determine whether or not a certain tree is pollarded or not, ask the following questions.

1) Is a correct species used? 2) Are all cuts during the life of the tree under 1”- in diameter? 3) Does it have a pollard head(s)? 4) Are sprouts removed every year? 5) Was it chosen and planted in this spot to be used as a formal pollard? (ie. is it part of a larger overall formal design like a rose garden, castle grounds or boulevard?) 6) Is it likely that the tree will have the sprouts removed every year through several “owners” for perhaps a hundred years? (ie. are people being charged admission to the garden where the trees are located, or are they city trees on the public dole?)

OBJECTIONS TO REAL POLLARDING

The Subversion of Nature The word pollarding also refers to the act of dehorning bulls as well as keeping big trees small. Another word for pollarding is “docking” which refers to cutting off the end of an animal's tail as is commonly done to Dobermans. And therein lies the subconscious objection many nature lovers have to it. The will (and presumed right) to dominate nature is considered by many people as the source of today's ecological ills. Bending the will of nature solely for aesthetic pleasure seems even less justified than when done for utilitarian purposes. (Although there are plenty of people who would save forest trees from timber companies, yet don't hesitate to cut down their neighbor's trees for water views.) But what is a garden if not nature controlled? The pollarding of trees, more so than the odd espaliered pyracantha, really gets people going. Why? It is probably because of the intrinsic greatness of the tree. The tree is the epitome of the plant kingdom, like the lion is of the animal kingdom. When lions were feared and plentiful, they were kept in small cages and made to jump through fiery hoops, and nobody thought a thing about it. Today it's different. There is a greater recognition and respect for the wild and the natural. In the eyes of some, manipulating trees in a way that keeps them unnaturally small and eliminates the ramification of branches, subverts their intrinsic greatness and beauty.

It should be mentioned that many, and perhaps even most, educated tree lovers do not find true pollarding objectionable. Dr. Alex Shigo is one, this author is another.

Copycat Killings Another problem with pollarding is that, in some sense, it validates people's apparently insatiable desire to make trees shorter. Ask anybody who runs a tree service and they will tell you that the number one reason people want to top their trees is because “they're too big”. People never complain that their kid, their boat, their car or their house is too big. Or their horse, their giraffe, or their hippopotamus. But trees, especially trees reaching their mature size seem “out of control” and just plain “too big” to people. Not to spend too much time delving

into the unconscious mind, let it be said that once people see pollarded trees, they want to do it, and they don't know or care that it's not really pollarding but tree topping that they are doing. It's the same problem with topiary. If sculpted shrubs were contained to a few well-done formal gardens, it wouldn't bother anybody. It's the fact that millions of innocent shrubs are routinely sheared into empty and meaningless globes and boxes that drives horticulturists crazy.

Trees commonly subjected to ritual mutilations of the quasi-pollarding sort are: hawthorns in Seattle, mulberries in California and crape mytles all over the South. The fact that these trees can withstand repeated headings, tippings, toppings, and pollardings, doesn't make it right. It just means they survive. The “quasi-pollarding” problem is compounded by the fact that horticulturists, who should know better, sometimes recommend these treatments in print. This is one reason pollarding—including how and why to do it—needs to be very clearly defined.

The Wrong Reason The final objection to “real” pollarding is that it's often done for the wrong reasons. It is increasingly used to mitigate the results of poor design (as advocated in Arnold's book Trees in Urban Design, a textbook for landscape architects). Specifically, trees are over-planted or situated in areas that cannot accommodate their mature sizes. After ten years of the trees growing, the landowner suddenly freaks at the site of scores London Plane trees planted on twenty-foot centers. Enter the arborists. They want to solve problems for their customers and see a way to please the customer, utilize their special knowledge of trees, and earn some money. Besides it's sort of a challenge. And, if it doesn't hurt the trees, why not? Well, because it scapegoats a very real problem. Instead of insisting that half the trees be removed, bad planning gets followed up with a lifetime of dubious pruning. Although it is horticulturally defensible, the public just sees it as trees being mutilated. No wonder the public doesn't trust arborists, and arborists don't trust landscape architects.

It's true that the owners of mis-sited trees are often adamant that their trees be kept. But to let them dictate the terms of professionalism is a mistake. Doctors don't condone prescribing pain pills for patients who “insist” on them rather than taking a real cure. It is unethical. Once you start the program, you are locked in and, by participating, you are assumed to be endorsing it. If we are to ever stop common over-planting, someone, somewhere will have to start standing firm.

Make-Work Anybody forced to do a large amount of “make work” will never forget it, and probably never forgive it. To spend years and years and years removing hundreds of water sprouts from the trees simply because the designer failed to use the right sized species, or insisted on spacing them too closely, is unforgivable. The designers are apt to dismiss this, blaming objections on a “lazy” maintenance crew. But nobody likes doing work that could easily have been avoided. It is

a waste of time, money and effort. And as such, it insults the value of our labor. To do it when real tree care and landscaping budgets suffer endless budget cuts is, well, wrong.

There's a time and a place for pollarding. For the most part, the time is the 18th century and the place is Europe. A few rows of trees in formal gardens in the U.S. should be sufficient for us to marvel at what can be done to trees when resources are unlimited. There is nothing wrong with planting a tree to be pollarded in a formal garden. But first we must be able to identify true pollarding and truly comprehend the work that goes into it.