Chapter 4 Hello New York

First bite of the Apple o bands played as I arrived at The City Gardener, on Third Avenue at 30th Street, in March 1969. Here was a messy-looking store with Nstacked bags of topsoil and racks of plants on the sidewalk. Since my Kiwi friend and sponsor Kerry Fitzgerald was out, I accepted a coffee and chatted to the secretary, who at least expected me. Where, I wondered, would a tweed-suited, proper-English speaking immigrant, just off the plane, fit in? Kerry had three years previously joined an English gentleman gardener and bought The City Gardener, one of the first inner city businesses offering plants, installation services and advice to the increasing number of New Yorkers eager to grow their own tomatoes and climbing on their terraces. The timing, as always, was everything. was in the midst of sweeping changes, including the embrace of green spaces, new city parks, roof-top gardens and more streetside trees. With the firm’s business expanding, Kerry was recruiting gardeners with knowledge of hardy New York plants, the local extreme conditions and garden design, plus the ability to sell garden ideas. Did I qualify? Well, of course! I’m a quick learner. But back to the day I arrived. The magic began when I dropped my bags in the guest room of Kerry’s 57th Street penthouse on smart Eastside. “We’re leaving for the country in half an hour, grab warm clothes and walking shoes,” said Kerry.

Opposite: Jump for joy, . Above: The City Gardener, 3rd avenue at 30th street , where my new life began, 1969.

75 76 I held my breath as our host’s uniformed black driver cruised up Riverside ferns, bromeliads and flowering house plants thrived under grow lights, and Drive to the New York State thruway and Kerry explained that we would music floated through the freshly greened air. Business boomed. spend the weekend at David Webb’s Westchester home, where he had Above the descending staircase a large hanging parrot cage housed Rosie, a authorised us to design and create a waterfall and ornamental pond. The female African Grey, who would whistle, “Pop goes the weasel,” in response client, an international jeweller, was also one of The City Gardener’s to “Hello Rosie.” On one of my visits to the local pet shop, to buy seed and financial backers. cuttlefish for the bird, I touched a tiny brown paw reaching through a cage. A long winding drive through naked forest led to an ample stone and timber The small perfect Burmese kitten also touched my soft centre. I tried to lodge. David was at the door to welcome us. Next morning I woke early and persuade myself I couldn’t keep a cat in my small apartment, I was away so slipped out the kitchen door to explore. Spring was still days away; only a much, etc etc. I could see it had a weepy eye but I knew all it needed was love. hint of green, furry buds on the chestnut, but starry dandelions lit up the With Cedric in a carton, I sailed into The City Gardener and announced I roadsides while pussy willow catkins flushed yellow and the chill air carried needed the afternoon off to get my new house guest installed. the fragrance of wood smoke. And not another house in sight. It was a soft Cedric’s story will emerge. landing indeed, and during the following days, I wondered where this trail That spring I was happily swept up in the events of this increasingly busy would lead me. garden supply store, and was never sure if I’d be working on a penthouse terrace or in a shady backyard. After a rough winter, gardens required a Getting to know Manhattan spring clean and replanting, and often new garden furniture. In early summer, window boxes and ornamental tubs were filled with showy annuals, geraniums, On my first day at The City Gardener I had worn what would have been petunia, alyssum, and kitchen herbs. Before autumn in went mums, (hardy normal dress in Stockholm: sports coat and slacks with tie, plus well-polished dwarf garden chrysanthemums) and berried shrubs such as species of skimmia shoes. After heaving planter boxes and root-balled trees around I didn’t need and ilex for the winter display. to be told that jeans and a sweatshirt were more appropriate. I accumulated all sorts of vital knowledge, such as access to sites, freight The shop was a jumbled city depot for bagged soil, fertilizers, stakes, hoses, elevator restrictions, city soil and drainage, water supply and what constituted and garden furniture. I was less than excited with the looks of my new adequate insurance cover. Plus I learned a whole lot about garden contracts workplace. It seemed dingy and cluttered. I’d fancied a New York garden and, above all, the importance of a reliable crew. centre would be sparkling clean and extra smart. Wrong, but no matter. I was An opportunity arrived with The City Gardener’s involvement at the East here, eager to learn and anxious to be on someone’s payroll. Side House Settlement Winter Antiques Show in the cavernous Seventh Kerry introduced me to rich and famous clients, looking for gardening help Regiment Armory on Park Avenue. Through connections with the city’s gay- or advice. The appearance of the store hardly mattered as most clients didn’t elite decorators and designers, Kerry was contracted to create an imaginative bother coming so far downtown. Their phone call summoned a consultant display garden as the centrepiece for the upcoming ten day event. (often me) to the site. I would listen to exactly what the client needed, add Expensive and overly ambitious, the plan involved the creation of a 3.5 a few inspirational touches and give assurances that the design plan and metre trellised wall, dividing the five square metre garden area, with a table provisional estimate would follow within the week. and seating as the central focal point. One approached a formal raised lawn, Within a year I suggested we employ two new staff members to handle flanking a gravel path bordered with flower beds, which led the eye to a tea routine jobs more efficiently. One, a Florida horticulture graduate, was table with all the trimmings, lit with dappled afternoon light. The rear third restlessly inventive, instinctively a builder, and usually hyped on Coca Cola. of the display was loaded with palms and tropical foliage, suggesting the The other was a gentle but resourceful farmer’s son from Wisconsin. Together conservatory beyond. we revamped the dusty cobweb-festooned City Gardener to make it smart, All this magic had to be delivered and constructed on site, with platforms attractive and functional. and waterproofing in place before grass sod could be laid, flower borders In the slow winter days of 1970 the existing shop was isolated as walls came planted, and the jungle installed in three days. I was responsible for stage- down and a giant skip on the sidewalk took debris. It was messy and noisy, managing the production, selecting the tablecloth and crystal, the elegant women office staff took holidays, but by the time they returned construction French garden chairs, white standard bushes, and getting it all in perfect was complete. One new feature was a charming spiral staircase, foraged from order before the press and executive members, the mayor and distinguished a wrecking yard, to reach the cleaned-out basement. Live trees and guests, were admitted at 4 p.m. for the celebrity benefit opening reception.

77 78 Top: Winter Antiques Show, 1985. Giant urns filled with flowering quince, and other exotica, frame the rare Bruges tapestry. Above: A typical advertisement for the annual Winter Antiques Show catalogue. Bottom: Winter Antiques Show, 1970. Finishing touches to the Conservatory Garden centrepiece.

79 80 This was life in the fast lane, I discovered; part terror, part high excitement. evening, pick-up time, and I explained to Tim that if the rightful owners In Saturday’s New York Times my picture in the garden got a banner billing in appeared he should simply smile, say thanks, and move on. the home section. My bosses were slightly miffed that a recent employee was Fast action! I hailed a cab for Soho, where The City Gardener truck was credited with the creation of this wondrous spring display. I was simply in the garaged, returned with the wheels and found Tim still in possession of the right place at the right time. loot. We carefully load one small settee, two easy chairs, two bookcases, a Kerry often asked me to arrange gifts of flowers for special customers, brass tray coffee table, a large sisal rug, a standard and a table lamp into the to sweeten a deal or acknowledge payment. Thus, I was introduced to the truck before we slipped off into the night. Still laughing at my chutzpah New York wholesale flower markets. All of a sudden I was happily back in seizing the haul, we manhandled everything up three flights of stairs. among flowers. Exhausted but exhilarated, I decorated Tim’s empty space. This collection New York’s Winter Antiques Show drew dealers and buyers from around of living room furniture, in striking shades of burnt orange, gold, and natural the globe and, once again, Kerry designed and installed a garden display to sisal, very retro-1950s, came alive and smiled once the lamps were lit. Then fill the large central intersection of two principal aisles. I didn’t have the we went out for dinner. starring role, on this occasion, but was directed to arrange flowers in two antique urns on stage pedestals flanking the main entrance. I opted for white Gardens in the sky gladioli, and with budding pussy willow branches and heavy trails of English ivy salvaged from a vacant lot, I created a strong wintery statement with a I loved showing visitors around New York. I’d plan adventures to include touch of country elegance. This was the beginning of an increasing presence ferry rides, subway shortcuts, drives to the boundaries of Bronxville and the at this prestigious New York event over the following 30 years. gardens of or Brooklyn, as well as inner-city walks to discover treasure-dense mid-Manhattan’s mini-jewels, such as the Morgan Library, St Patrick’s cathedral and . If guests had a head for heights I’d urge a visit to the Driving in Manhattan meant driving on the right-hand side of the road. viewing terrace for a panorama of Brooklyn, , , , Scary stuff. I had a noisy panel truck; all eyes on the traffic lights ahead, yellow cabs and pedestrians weaving around me. The first weeks of discovering which and New Jersey across the Hudson. From this eye-in-the-sky position you got were the up and which were the down avenues and which, like Park, had the impression that in New York, trees grow on rooftops. And they do. traffic running both ways, demanded caution. The only way to really know The City was undergoing a green revolution. New city offices, hospitals Manhattan is to study the maps, learn by negotiating tunnels and bridges and and airports all wanted plants in entries and reception areas, and The City drive only where permitted. And step on it! Gardener was in the centre of the action. Maintenance of existing clients’ A doctor, the friend of friends, offered me an apartment in an East Village rooftop plantings provided our steady income, with consultation visits brownstone, at a modest rental — but I needed furniture. My landlord and all over the city to advise eager novices how to get started. Drainage, soil neighbour offered a basic chair and bed and I began finding discarded treasures mixtures, and watering systems were suggested, prevailing winds considered, on the sidewalks. Tuesday evening was when one might find a settee, a lamp, before recommending proven hardy trees and flowering plants that would an icebox, a mattress, or even curtains piled up waiting for city council pick- bring a terrace to life. up. As always it was just a matter of timing, and a knowing eye. I happily I learned most of this specialized kind of horticulture on the job. The climate, claimed Venetian blinds, a silver gilt mirror, a pair of sturdy window boxes with four totally different seasons, determined what would or would not grow. and a kitchen stool. I still have a good reproduction French bedroom chair, When asked if I could handle a project, a design for some new client’s terrace, several times re-upholstered, found during such a raid, 50 years ago. planting for summer colour in a shady back garden, or installing a waterfall, Tim a tall, beautiful young dancer from the Midwest, moved into an for heaven’s sake, in an established rooftop oasis, I’d confidently answer, “Yes,” apartment above me. He had little but the clothes he wore, a few books and a and then retreat to base for help with designs and estimates. It was a trial by mattress on the bare wooden floor. One evening I suggested he let me buy him fire and I learned fast. supper in one of my favourite Greenwich Village eateries. We were happily My first day on the job with a team of labourers was auspicious. The client chatting when I saw ahead a cache of treasures, presumably the contents of had ordered the new season’s planting in her rooftop terrace: beds and borders a suddenly vacated apartment, stacked on the wide sidewalk. Instinct said of salmon geranium amongst white alyssum, under-planting mature dwarf grab it. I commanded, “Stay here. Don’t move. It’s all yours.” It was Tuesday crab apples and clipped cones of hardy juniper. I had an experienced foreman

81 82 who knew the garden and how to handle the delicate business of finding a handrail rose above the circular stone walls, and carried bronze plaques, legal parking spot for the truck, adjacent to the service entrance, negotiating roughly the size of a playing card. Clearly raised braille characters described the steps to the service elevators, loading the elevators and soaring up to the the varieties of herb planted directly behind, within comfortable reach of the 16th floor and the kitchen area of this large apartment. The next job was to sightless, giving name, place of origin, culinary or medicinal uses. Some plants, lay wide plastic runners over parquet and carpets, through the other rooms to such as scented geraniums, lavender, mint, and rosemary, were obvious stars, the terrace doors, and move trays of plants, fresh topsoil, tools, garbage bags while more obscure species like rue, chamomile, fennel and sorrel expanded and brooms to the work site. the experience. I struggled to imagine how I could reduce this generous, well Once the tubs were weeded and cultivated and fresh soil added, I laid out the lit and ventilated garden to something that would fit into a shady backyard. plant material, restrained the noisy Latino labourers, and, after watering and Back at my desk I drew up plans for raised planting beds, installation of cleaning up, began the process in reverse, back to street level. The cleanup drainage, screening, correct soil mix, and lists of plants. It was agreed the was under the eagle-eyed supervision of the housekeeper, with vacuum at the foundation should assume responsibility for the paving, masonry work, and ready to catch petals or, God forbid, any spilt soil. There was no time to stand watering system, as well as commissioning the braille plaques to my design. and stare at the elegant interior, but it looked worthy of Architectural Digest. The City Gardener was well equipped to provide regular maintenance and Kerry was happy to know everything was completed as ordered, and I was to handle seasonal replanting. On the opening day the yard was crowded anxious to learn who lived in that gilded splendour. Although the name with sightless children, parents and rabbis. I was unaware the press had been meant little to me at that stage, this was the city apartment of Brooke invited until my picture appeared in next morning’s New York Times home Astor, wife of Vincent Astor, known to most New Yorkers from her regular section, with a shot of me guiding a little girl’s hand to a fragrant geranium. appearances in the society columns and glossy magazines. She was from one The caption indicated I was in The City Gardner’s management rather than of the richest families, and spent her days tending philanthropic causes such its most recent employee. Kerry, my boss, was not amused. Others were, as the Metropolitan Museum, the New York Public Library and the New York especially Betty, who roared with laughter and promptly pinned the cutting Hospital. Some introduction! to the staff notice board. This connection with Betty was the beginning of a fruitful and expanding friendship that still continues.

A memo on my desk requested I walk two blocks to talk with the director of Cat in the cupboard the Jewish Braille Institute about his ideas for a garden. A youngish executive My life changed when Cedric moved in. It was instant love. He adored his walked me through to a modest backyard behind the main office block, and new home, my one bedroom first floor apartment in the East Village. He used asked if our company could design and install a fragrance garden for the blind. the litter box the moment I filled it, nibbled my canned offerings, and decided I wasn’t immediately galvanized by the project as a mature Tree-of-Heaven the flower-filled window boxes were the best spots from which to observe the (Ailanthus altissima) growing nearby shaded the area, and during short winter action on 9th Street below. days direct sunlight would be minimal, while the heat during Manhattan’s I’m not a lonely person, being used to a mostly single existence, but my torrid summer would be another challenge. personality flowered with this warm and cuddly creature in my life. He was so I visited the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens where a well known and carefully cute and bouncy, with his sleek coffee brown fur, big golden eyes and round maintained fragrance garden existed. I found a gate into the gardens and, face, pointed attentive ears and his distinctive talking. “Where had I been? addressing a gardener’s upended rear, asked politely for direction to the Why did I leave him alone so long? What’s for supper?” fragrance garden. Fred McGourty straightened up from his lilac pruning and Each night, when I arrived home with groceries or packets, the brown offered to walk me in the right direction. He was curious about my interest in bomber hurtled towards me yowling, “Play with me, now!” Once I’d dropped this garden and where I was from. A Kiwi, he thought, might enjoy meeting any cargo he would climb up my trouser legs heading for my shoulder, to the South African director of education programs, Betty Scholtz, who was rub his chin against my beard, purring noisily, demonstratively demanding on the lookout for new faces for her teaching and lecture schedules. Slightly attention. The key was to crouch slightly so that from my bent knees he formal, but smiling, animated and curious, she insisted I join her for morning could jump to my shoulder. I could never take this manoeuvre for granted, tea. Fred, one of the head gardeners, joined us too, and I was bombarded with particularly if carrying a tray of glasses or a bowl of flowers. I perfected a questions. Constance Spry? Norway? And Sweden? roaring, “No!” that he understood, especially useful when he was on the point Finally Betty walked me to the enclosed garden where a perfectly placed of treating visitors to this full-frontal flying welcome.

83 84 One afternoon Cedric went exploring on the architrave over the front door of the brownstone, and unable to climb back, yowled until neighbouring kids rescued him. They later buzzed my bell, and leaning out the window I heard the story of Cedric’s misadventure. I buzzed the three scruffy kids in, rescued the cat, and handed over some one dollar bills. “Could we wash our hands Mister?” The big mistake. The young thugs took the chance to case the apartment, and two days later, I was robbed. The front door had been jimmied off its hinges and some of my few precious possessions taken. The police were sympathetic but unimpressed. “Livin’ in this neighbourhood son, you jus’ gotta get more careful.” Thanks pussy cat.

Cedric’s story, and mine, expanded when I pursued a lively and better- paid job as horticulturist with a retail plant business, Exotic Gardens in East Norwich on Long Island, 56 kilometres from the city. I owned a Volkswagen hatchback and although I could handle the commute, the days were long and Cedric was less than happy. The solution was a converted cottage on a local Belmont property. It had everything: a downstairs living room, office and kitchen, and upstairs bedroom, bathroom, and access to the loft over the three-car garage below. It was across a brick courtyard from the stables and Cedric, my Burmese house guest for nearly 20 years, surveys his Cove House domain. main house; charming, historic, and affordable. I loved the area, the ancient oaks and plane trees, and the quiet and sense of country in this pleasant village. Cedric liked it as well. Now fully grown and self-possessed, he approved of everything, and had soon scouted the neighbourhood and checked the rabbit population. Of all the morsels he To help the beast unwind after his day alone, physical exercise was required. found tasty, baby rabbit got top billing. He quickly introduced himself to the Howling in protest and loving the abuse, he enjoyed being dragged backwards neighbouring families and, with personal details on his collar, could be sent over the deep pile carpet and being thrown towards the ceiling. He never home, or collected. But he always stuck with me if I was around, eager to help tired of his favourite: hide and seek. He would call from his hiding place, on with housework, gardening, and especially entertaining. top of a door, under the bed or inside an empty carton; my turn to hide, in a While many felines are remote and interested only at meal times, this cupboard or behind a door, until he sniffed me out. sleek panther chased butterflies, climbed trees, adored empty boxes, begged Cedric was always a lively house guest and was seemingly content in the for bacon rinds, kept himself in immaculate order, and kept neighbouring apartment. How, I wondered, would he handle a weekend in the country? cats at a distance. He took to the car immediately, insisting on sitting on my I was a regular guest of my neighbour doctor friend, at his rustic cottage lap with his paws on my arm. At the supermarket he watched me walk away in Stony Point on the Hudson River. The idyllic cottage was set among and then hid behind the back seat until I returned. flowering dogwoods on the banks of a stream; the perfect escape from New Then the pet shop owner who had offered me Cedric phoned to tell me he York. I was interested to see how Cedric would handle this different world. had a surplus small white kitten. Would I take it? I couldn’t resist the little My host was concerned that the cat would disappear but I was confident mite but Cedric was not happy. When the kitten scrambled out of the carry that Cedric and I had an understanding and, while he would want to box Cedric’s fur stood up, he uttered an otherworldly low growl, sniffed this explore, he’d respond to my call. Sure enough, in the late afternoon, after unfamiliar stranger, and then, with another growl, slunk off to the garden. In my trilling whistle, a slender brown tail, held vertically, came zipping back time possessive Cedric decided the kitten was a fun new toy, and would bat it through the wildflowers. I rarely worried about Cedric. I knew he was around the floor like a baseball, or give it a parental lick. keeping his eyes and ears open for me. The tiny kitten grew to become a superb male with blue–green eyes,

85 86 larger than Cedric, but still willing to let Cedric exercise dominance. discover exotic and colourful bromeliads among crotons, palms and tropical A New Zealand visitor greeted the young white cat with, “Hello Pākehā”, ferns. Come September the scene changes to shades of colour-coordinated (white man in Māori) and his name was established. They bonded as brothers. chrysanthemums, autumnal grasses, even collections of squash, crab apple After six years living in the Belmont stables complex, and from where I had trees and giant corn stalks. Move onto the winter season when perfectly launched J Barry Ferguson Flowers Ltd, I needed more living, working and formed evergreens, holly, juniper, and dwarf blue spruce among red-berried storage space. The acquisition of Cove House, in quiet, restricted, isolated, Skimmia japonica offer their cool permanence as a setting for the installation and totally beautiful Cove Neck, is another story, but the two cats had a superb of tapering clusters of balsam Christmas trees, lit only with tiny white lights. life there, with plenty of wildlife of interest, especially rabbits. Chipmunks Silence. The hush lifts and Mrs Mauze declares that she likes the idea of and squirrels (tantalizingly fast) kept out of reach, chittering away at their tormentors as they raced up tree trunks. my bringing the country to the city. Practical brother Laurence says, “Sounds Both cats had favourite hiding places. Cedric found the door to an great! Why not lay out your proposal and costings for what you’ve described, airing cupboard left open and claimed that. Pākehā thought curling up and send it. We’d like to be ready for a new program when the park re-opens against the basement furnace the ideal choice on a stormy winter’s day, next March.” but at night they would arrange themselves blissfully in front of the library fireplace, or curl together in Cedric’s carrying basket. Cutest of all was to discover them arranged in a yin-yang design, brown curled into white, in Pākehā’s winter basket. A pivotal moment in Manhattan It was a cool early hour. The sun hadn’t fingered its way into the cross- town canyons, and with my head down, midway between Second and Third Avenues on 51st Street, I was aware of movement and sound to my right. In an open space between apartment blocks I discovered the little-known city hideaway of Greenacre Park. A cascading waterfall dominated, and clusters of tables and chairs beneath slender honey locusts had attracted locals, who sat drinking coffee and reading the Times. With massive haphazard rock slab walls and detailed steps, it was impressive but for one sour note. While the shrubs and trees were happily established, I noticed chrysanthemums in the low bowl planters were sadly dead. Coincidently, two weeks later, my boss at Exotic Gardens had me return a call to the long-established landscaping company that had installed the trees. I joined them at a meeting with the board of directors of The Greenacre Foundation, a Rockefeller project. I was invited to join the senior partners to discuss giving me responsibility for the planters in the park. I was scrubbed up and nervous at the iconic 56th floor offices of Rockefeller Centre where we joined a family conference. Brothers Laurence and David Rockefeller were leading the discussion, while their older sister, Abbe Mauze, thought the planters, large and small, needed rethinking. How could they be planted to look beautiful throughout the seasons? This was my moment. Ready, steady, go. I conjured up spring in the country, the colour and fragrance of hyacinths and narcissi under flowering cherries, followed by tall tulips and azalea. Move to summer when visitors might Above: Greenacre Park, 51st between 2nd and 3rd Avenues, a magnet for tourists, nannies and the lunch crowd.

87 88 The park, designed by the Japanese landscape architect Hideo Sasaki, is would be so directed but I carefully completed the job, cleaned up, watered imaginative and daring. Its outstanding feature is the back wall’s eight metre the tubs, and, chastened, drove off. waterfall, cascading into a series of pools with other water features creating A couple of weeks later we met at the park again, with fresh budded plants secondary streams. Not only does the waterfall cool the air several degrees in on board. Since I thought I knew exactly what the client wanted, I had my summer, but its white noise effectively buffers the park against traffic sounds boys begin the work of replacing fading plants. After her brief inspection I and sirens. Discreet signage reminded visitors that smoking, soliciting and was surprised to hear the lady suggest that a mixture of blues and bi-colours playing music was not permitted and with a guard in the park at all times, this would be more interesting, “Wouldn’t I agree?” On later days I confidently safe oasis was open to everyone. mixed the shades according to my ideas of what looked best. With my proposal to the Greenacre Foundation studied and accepted, Mrs Mauze’s occasional visits to Greenacre continued for a few more years. sketches and suggested colour schemes approved, the business of sourcing a I felt I had her support for the innovative schemes I planned for the changing sequence of flowering plants and shrubs to keep Greenacre Park in bloom seasons. When she died, and to celebrate her and her family’s gift to the city, from early spring until Christmas led me to develop nursery sources beyond we moved one of the oversized tubs to the top of the entry steps, and filled Manhattan. Since the days with The City Gardener, locating plants for it with a mixture of all the loveliest, most fragrant flowers, in her favourite roof terrace and backyard gardens, I’d established connections with growers colours; pink and red shaded lilies, fuchsia, flowering tobacco, and clouds of on Long Island, as well as in neighbouring Connecticut and New Jersey. baby’s breath. This tribute was not lost on all who knew her. Nurserymen were happy to have my custom and often became friends. At another meeting with Mrs Mauze, for whom the park was built, I Meanwhile, on my way to the park. discovered what she preferred and what she most definitely did not like. cineraria, tulips and primula were among her spring suggestions, and “Could After the Twin Towers disaster, of September 11, 2001, all Americans you find a small flowering cherry?” Mercifully several growers had cineraria accepted that changes and adjustments were required in our free, open and budding nicely and tulips in a vast range of colours, breaking through the soil easy-going lives. Unseen forces threatened our harbours, airports and subways, in their pots. And a pair of standard flowering cherries, still in tight bud, were as well as landmarks and public spaces. New York’s three underground tunnels on hold for me. They’d be sure to burst out, on cue, on March 20, when the and the five bridges connecting Manhattan Island to Long Island and the park opened for the season. mainland were considered to be possible terrorist targets. During the chilly days of mid-March I took a crew into Manhattan to prepare Immediately following that terrifying day, high security measures were put for this new adventure. The planters included over a dozen low bowls, about in place at all of these river crossings, causing unprecedented delays. Traffic a metre wide, plus eight large tubs of two heights, each 1.2 metres wide. The entering the mid-town tunnel from the Long Island Expressway would back superintendent, along with two others, maintained the park in immaculate up well into Queens, and clog the city’s midtown streets and avenues. It was a order. Each day, before the enormous steel gates rolled back, the park was nightmare. Drivers who could switched to trains or began to work from home. washed down, chairs and tables wiped, any speck of garbage collected, and I restricted my driving into Manhattan to days when Greenacre Park was the fountain turned on. With a gurgle, then a roar, the awesome torrent due for replanting and, like everyone, submitted to the slowdown and careful began splashing over the sculptural granite. With the first daffodils, pastel going-over by traffic police and sniffer dogs. We took these efforts seriously hyacinths, and tulips in bud and the arching branches of a cherry bursting and were patient and grateful the men in blue were doing such a thorough into life, Greenacre was instantly in flower and open for business! job of inspection. I was advised that the Rockefeller sister would be coming to the park to To reduce the number of vehicles needed on the job, I would have shrubs, inspect the progress of the installation. I was nervous but with an abundance flowering plants, bales of peat moss, bags of soil, fertilizers, carts and tools of cineraria I was ready for action. I had already filled several planters by the loaded the night before. In the morning, at first light, I’d roll into Glencove time Mrs M. arrived. Polite greetings, a withdrawal, an inspection, a slight village to collect my Latino foreman and crew, coffee and donuts, and join tilt of the head, before she suggested she would really prefer each container the slowly moving vehicles heading for the tunnel. Cars with passengers were to offer just a single colour, rather than mixed shades. “All bright blue for given a summary inspection, the boot opened and routine questions about example, just blue and white, or simply magenta.” destination asked. Trucks and vans were pulled over for intense inspection. I understood and began to rearrange the plants. “I like the pots to look full Doors were opened, papers examined and even merchandise removed before and rounded like an ice-cream cone,” she said. I wondered if every session the truckie was waved on.

89 90 One rainy morning I followed directions to pull over and park as two ant-like scurrying of the world below helped one appreciate just how unique police advanced suspiciously on the J Barry Ferguson Flowers 4.2-metre Manhattan’s rooftop gardens are, and over the years, I maintained this box truck. I opened the folding doors and the beagle hound, smelling favourite garden as it matured in a beautiful way. something interesting, jumped in among the hydrangea and azalea bushes, On the fateful day of September 11, I was leading a small tour group through mistaking blood and bone manure for something less legal. Moments of South Africa when the World Trade Centres were brought down. Mercifully, chaos followed, as my men tried to escape the harmless hound, but they Brian was out of town, but he was unable to return to his apartment, now were lined up by the police for questioning. They were terrified about their covered with debris and thick dust, for over a year while the clean-up in the lack of work permits, a detail that I had omitted to take any previous interest area was undertaken. in. Jesus, my green-carded foreman, explained to a Latino policemen that When the clean-up was finally completed I was taken to view what was these men were his relations from San Salvador and were visiting his family left of Brian’s garden. The trees had survived, and though the pines had lost on vacation. Partly true. branches, after a hosing down and winter rains they seemed indifferent to the Calm was restored after I explained to an officer who we were and where we holocaust that had exploded above them. The dwarf crab, after some selective were going. I indicated the Rockefeller office might be concerned if we were pruning, looked to be ready for its winter sleep, and hopefully would respond unable to complete today’s scheduled delivery. He understood, but refused the to the longer days of spring. Spring 2002 meant a new beginning and Brian offered red azalea bush I thought his wife would like. was keen to return to have the terrace generously in bloom again. Later, after I had moved back to New Zealand, Brian found creative gardeners to continue to develop and maintain his one-of-a-kind garden. A garden at Ground Zero Recent photographs show the crab apple, a choice and truly dwarf variety, has I became involved with a dynamically different garden opportunity when a been kept pruned to elegant semi-horizontal proportions, while two pines still work associate invited me to a drinks party on his 34th floor roof terrace in hold sway over the world below. With their roots confined, pruned, fed and lower Manhattan, directly below the Twin Towers. Brian had recently moved watered, these reliable veterans assume bonsai-like characteristics. The third up to this eyrie, and was looking for ideas to take advantage of the wraparound tree was removed, having simply grown too big, after years of solid service. views down the harbour, over the Verrazano Bridge to Staten Island and New Jersey, with Miss Liberty in a starring role. It was a wow situation. I suggested he start with larger, hardy trees in big tubs to establish a background and then continue with ornamental flowering planters. I began imagining flowering trees, with his favourite snapdragons, among summer plantings to keep the area on show from spring until frosts brought down the curtain. My house gift was a sturdy 1.2-metre square redwood planter box, with scoria drainage, and quantities of topsoil and a handsome dwarf flowering crab apple,Pyrus sargentii, was ceremonially planted and toasted. Thus encouraged, Brian authorized the delivery of three additional tubs, each with a hardy Pinus sylvestris, or Scots pine, which immediately brought year-round evergreen character to the once empty space. Brian was in the lighting business, so the pines were dressed in tiny white Christmas lights, a touch of winter magic as snow fell. An excited call in late April announced the flowering crab had burst into fragrant pink and white blossom. And bees were busy, Brian said, 34 storeys up. Brian agreed to take several more 1.2-metre boxes, which allowed him to accommodate summer annuals, petunia, snapdragons, salvia, as well as dwarf hibiscus and crotons. Against walls, trellis panels encouraged showy flowering vines to perform, while hibiscus in one metre terracotta tubs brought a touch © Brian Leahy of the Caribbean to this exuberant display. Looking over the balcony to the The garden at ground zero.

91 92 Peonies, in six different varieties, have become a staple in the American Promoting New Zealand flower trade, arriving at a time of high demand, with good prices assured. I was happy to meet the New Zealand Consul-General and his wife at their official residence on the Upper East Side. From time to time I was asked to New York’s horticultural heavyweights arrange plants and flowers at the residence, with the chance to meet and chat with other visitors including Robert Muldoon, Jim Bolger and Kiri Te Kanawa. The move to live and work on Long Island flung wide the windows of Later New Zealand Trade & Enterprise involved me in a variety of promotional opportunity. Life was now distinctly more rural than suburban. I talked to events for such New Zealand products as cheese, wine and flowers. the neighbour’s horse over my kitchen garden fence, and I could swim at a To maintain my Kiwi connection through the New York years I organised number of handy beaches. I discovered several great estates with woodland and led groups of American guests on nature tours to New Zealand, exploring walks, including Planting Fields , a 160-hectare preserve with historic trees and greenhouses along with teaching classes and flower shows. the obvious sites as well as remote areas. It was ideal to leave New York after Manhattan, with twenty four hour energy and everything it had to offer, Christmas, when Greenacre Park was closed for the bleak winter, and spend was a thrilling place to live, but I had realized I needed more than street days in the sun down under. trees and planted tubs. I wanted big skies, fewer people, and space to breathe On one occasion, I was asked to address a group of New Zealand flower fresher air, where I could wander down a garden path barefoot. I preferred to grower/exporters on how to improve the packaging, shipping and quality of sleep without trucks rumbling by, street lights flooding my room, and sirens their export lines, from a New York buyer’s point of view. The market for high shrieking at all hours. The city buzz was only an hour’s drive away. quality cymbidium orchids was already well established, and the demand for As the Planting Fields Arboretum was only a ten minute drive, I could coloured calla varieties was increasing. I suggested that such items as leaves follow the seasons, walking among the daffodils while checking the first of coloured phormium (New Zealand flax), flowering manuka varieties, and crinkled yellow flowers on the witch hazel’s bare branches. In early spring any number of flowering South African shrubs, such as leucadendron, which the conservatory was ablaze with massed cineraria and cascades of brilliant grows so well here, might find eager buyers in the bleak northern winter season. azaleas over carpets of primula, while the orchid houses demanded I slow I recommended that an overall Kiwi brand be adopted, and that packing down to study and smell some of the rarities in this exotic gathering. and insulating be improved to insure buyers at the New York end would find the imports fresh and in top condition. Finally, I delighted my audience by announcing there was a possible market for hydrangeas in the US. The suggestion was met with hoots of laughter. “We cut them down with a slasher!” Once Martha Stewart had featured mature, antique-shaded blooms on her television programme, hydrangeas began to realize five dollars a head and good quality growers saw the wisdom of my words. As New Zealand peony growers amped up production, the flower export potential seemed obvious. Cut in bud, chilled and shipped directly to arrive at JFK around 2 a.m., after which I had them resting in my walk-in cooler by nine. These elegant silky New Zealand aristocrats took florists in New York and throughout the States by storm, arriving in time for America’s big Thanksgiving holiday when there was a dearth of other choice flowers. I was excited to spread the word, delivering single bloom samples to buyers for upper echelon restaurants, hotels and fashion houses. With New Zealand Trade & Enterprise, I created an over the top display in the flower market, with several boxes of long-stemmed “Coral Charm” peonies to work with. I chose steel containers and columns to hold the these gorgeous colour explosions. The press arrived, along with regular customers and guests who were offered New Zealand wines and cheeses in this first-ever, late-afternoon flower market cocktail party, celebrating a hugely important dollar-earning New Zealand flower export. A typical setting for a Jewish wedding ceremony.

93 94 A renowned camellia collection, in a dedicated cool house, drew local enthusiasts from all over the region. Waxy, perfect blooms in every shade of red and pink, many variegated coloured flowers among flawless whites, were beautifully emphasized by a late snowfall outdoors. Way back in 1972, living in Syosset, I entered an exhibit in the Fall Flower Show, my first opportunity to let loose with a collection of crab-apple-laden branches, seed pods, colourful squash, cascades of vine beans, and fiery garden chrysanthemums. A silver trophy and loads of admirers was recognition I enjoyed. I was becoming known as a guest lecturer, and persuaded garden club members that the pleasure of fresh flowers thoughtfully arranged in the home fully justified even a modest cutting garden. With stops along country roads, one could gather seed heads of dock, teasel, goldenrod, and even trails of bittersweet berries. I insisted that a modest budget did not mean restricting creativity. And speaking was fabulous free advertising. Word of J Barry Ferguson Flowers spread among party planners and mothers of prospective brides. Gordon Jones invited me as his guest to attend a meeting of The Hortus Club, in 1973, where I met luminaries among professional horticulturists from the greater New York area. Founding members of this prestigious group were present, including Thomas H Everett, long established horticulturist at the New York , and Harold Epstein, retired elder statesman of the horticultural world. Hortus met monthly in the National Arts Club in Grammercy Park, at the historic Tilden Mansion, during winter months. I was invited to speak at an upcoming meeting with New Zealand as my topic. I agreed, and with a wealth of good slides covering New Zealand’s wide panorama, I took members on a virtual tour of my home country, highlighting national parks, rain forests, alpine terrain, and botanic collections through the seasons. Before long I heard my nomination for membership was being considered. An aged member had withdrawn, I was invited to fill the spot. Membership is restricted to 30, men only; the Everett/Epstein cabal were adamant on this point. A range of fascinating topics, presented by qualified speakers, led us on trails through the high Andes pursuing cold- and drought-tolerant members of the Puya family, through Amazon jungles, and, closer to home, on a photographic scramble through the New Jersey Pine Barrens. One memorable talk used excellent slides to recreate a plant hunting expedition on the Milke Danda range in the mountains of Nepal. I was mesmerized by sunrise shots of distant Everest, blue Himalayan poppies in their natural terrain and lines of Sherpas laden with the tents, food and equipment. An appetite stirred to go, whenever possible, to the great Himal, to explore more of the mountainous kingdoms in the clouds. Through Questers World Nature Tours I was invited to join a group travelling through Nepal and Sikkim, as well as Bhutan the following year, Above: Denver Colorado, JBF raided borders to create ‘Treasures of the gold fields’ arranged in an old miners barrow. September 2000 and jumped at the opportunity. My staff could handle any work scheduled

95 96 for that period and with a knowledgeable leader, a small enthusiastic group, and perfect timing, I was determined, since that Hortus evening, to get to the Himalayan kingdoms. During the longer days of summer, expeditions to out-of-town gardens and private estates were arranged to replace the city meetings. Mini-expeditions to gardens in Maine, or Fire Island, through Pennsylvania and Delaware, gave our group entrée to some superb plant collections and private homes not otherwise accessible. To have an address in the city, I joined the National Arts Club; an elegant, convenient, and prestigious address where I could offer drinks and dinner to visitors. It was a costly privilege, but as long as I could afford my yearly sub, I relished being greeted by the desk clerk on duty, the manager, the barman and the maître d. Hortus Committee members knew they could ask me to arrange rooms for special meetings, or a bed for an out-of-town guest speaker.

Several years later, to my surprise I learnt The National Art’s Club, in Grammercy Park, planned to honour my work in flowers, in New York, over the previous 25 years. A dinner dance was proposed, and I was asked to produce a list of guests I wished invited. Naturally, I offered to provide table flowers and other decorations. I began thinking about how to make this evening special. The dinner dance would be held in the gallery entry, with room for 10 tables of Au Revoir Manhattan; guest lecturer on the QE2 to Southampton, before 9/11 changed the skyline. ten, and dancing in the long wing, where the paintings need not be disturbed. Thinking of the gallery with its neutral grey walls, I imagined possibilities. Inspiration came when talking with a friend from the Winter Antiques Show, The president introduced , director of ’s an antique rug dealer. I asked if I might borrow a tapestry to hang on a wall. Conservatory Garden, who talked of my contribution to the New York City Not one but a set of four eighteenth-century Bruges landscapes was offered. My Parks through my work at Greenacre Park, before introducing Dr Henry lighting associate Brian Leahy would supply the required magic and I realized Marc Cathey, director of The National Arboretum in Washington, who this simple award ceremony was taking on the dimensions of an Oscar event. gave a profile background of my work and activities, before Aldon James All I had to provide were table linens, floral centrepieces and silver presented The National Arts Club Medal of Honour to J Barry Ferguson, ballroom chairs. My crew covered the ceiling with fresh green garlands and ‘For Excellence in Design.’ provided shades for the central chandelier. Behind the head table I decided The rest of the evening was a happy blur. Guests were amazed by the to produce one of my signature pedestal urn arrangements, with the market’s flowers as well as at the precious tapestries that transformed a featureless most glorious seasonal blooms, plus attendant watering cans, wasps’ nests and space into an elegant salon. I had chosen bright flowers, with camellia, fruited branches, all to be lit in a wash of subtle salmon/gold. roses, winter heathers, and berries which glowed in the subtle lighting Le Bal des Fleurs was an event to remember, totally glamorous, gorgeous to against the dense, sombre tapestries, as did women’s colourful dresses. The look at, and too, too soon over. Having been on site for the day attending tall, exuberant pedestal arrangement remained the focus of the party; my to details, I only had time for a brief nap before showering and changing hand-writing writ large. into black tie, and then I was greeting guests in the bar, glowing with an incandescent excitement. A small smoke machine sent a slight mist into the air from the palm grove where my favourite dance band, The Night Hawks, were offering Cole Porter tunes.

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