The Most Beautiful Garden In The World?

If I were not committed to my darling man, if I were single and allowed to sneak a few naughty glances at other men every now and then, I think I should have a small crush on Monty Don.

Robert Redford too, but Monty is rather special. Anyone who gets emotional about gardens is a man to love, in my opinion.

Tonight, I just happened to turn the TV on when Monty's BBC show Italian Gardens was on. Did you happen to see the show? He was on his way to the Gardens of Ninfa, near Rome. He claims that out of all the gardens he's visited in the world – and our Monty has been to a LOT  – Ninfa is his favourite. It is, he said, the most romantic garden, anywhere on earth.

Tall call Mont. Raised eyebrow there. But as the show went on, I had to agree with him. It did indeed look fairly magical. Perhaps even more than Sissinghurst.

The Gardens of Ninfa are in fact a ruined medieval town, which once consisted of a castle, 7 churches, 14 towers, mills, 150 houses and 2000 villagers. Ruined by plague and malaria it was left abandoned for six centuries. Six centuries. Then, in 1905, it was saved by two dedicated gardeners: an Italian price and his sister-in-law Marguerite. Together, they cleared the undergrowth and set about creating an idyll in the Italian countryside.

You can still see the ruined remnants of the village – the "melancholy decay" as Monty calls it – but it's part of a wider, horticultural mise-on-scene of lovely rivers, dangling wisteria, spectacular roses and wandering paths. And views. Views that will make your heart stop. Views that will make you believe God really does exist, there among the climbing roses and the stone archways.

"I think that the secret of Ninfa, as with all truly great gardens, is that it enlarges us. You go to admire and enjoy, but you come out with a whole new set of parameters with which to measure life. It is, quite simply, completely life enhancing". Monty Don.

Here is the YouTube clip, should you be interested. It's a lovely piece of television. Monty's sonorous voice is the gardener's equivalent of Barry White's songs. I could listen to it for hours. Better than meditation, really. www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGEjoVlCj6A

Now I haven't been to as many gardens as Monty, but here are my favourites, out of the few I have had the privilege of visiting.

1. Villandry, France. The most extraordinary garden I've ever seen. (I shall look forward to seeing whether Ninfa is as good.)
2. Prieuré d'Orsan, France. Another beautiful, beautiful garden. The garden architecture in this garden alone is worth the trek down to Berry.
3. Sissinghurst, Kent, England (above). The history of the Sackville-West and Nicholson families is as extraordinary as the garden.
2. Bunny Williams' Connecticut Garden. I flew across the world to see this garden. It was worth it. (See the post from earlier this year.)
3. Barnsley House. Rosemery Verey's former home and garden, which you can now stay in. The Potting Shed (a luxurious hideaway) is one of the prettiest places you will ever sleep in. It even has its own small garden, and is also attached to the famous potager so you can wander around that in your PJs at twilight after the crowds have left.
4. The gardens of Lake Como. I'll try and do a post on these in the next few weeks.


I'm considering organising a garden tour next year, perhaps in May? I thought it might be a lovely way for garden-loving bloggers to get together? Do email me if you're interested and I'll try and set something up. Several extraordinary Australian gardeners I know have expressed interest, so perhaps we could bundle a group of lively, fun-loving travellers together and use our collective contacts to see a few of England's most glorious gardens?

Hermes School of Decorating, Part 2

Since the first post on The Hermès School of Decorating was such a surprise hit, I thought I'd try another. Orange is still making headlines as a colour (the effects of Pantone's Tangerine Tango prediction perhaps?), and in fact is starting to be recognised as a 'classic' for women's wardrobes, alongside white and black. (It always looks amazing with either one.)

Someone told me recently that the Preppy's answer to orange was coral, but I don't know. I still think orange has a lot of life (and style) left in it... I don't know about you but I'm looking forward to a long hot orange summer.

Hermès' new wallpaper range, which is inspired by its scarves. The collection includes ‘Bibliothèque’, a drawing of a collection of equestrian books, and 'Pêle-mêle', a panorama in which horses and Hermès family members are playfully depicted. “We wanted to offer the possibility of dressing your home with that same Hermès quality and style," says a Hermès spokesperson. I love the orange print (above), which seems to epitomise Hermès' quirky elegance. The papers landed in stores in June this year.

A splash of orange lifts this monochromatic interior. I'd love a Hermès blanket but they're $1600 here and our dogs would make them look like $1.60 blankets within a day. {Via Habitually Chic}

The office of Japanese interior decorator Yasumichi Morita. Such a beautiful backdrop. {Via The Selby}

More framed scarves. This trend of framing silk scarves seems to be coming back into interior fashion. It's a lovely idea. Hermès scarves are so expensive they're almost investment pieces. {Via Skona Hem}

Although this is perhaps taking the scarf-as-art thing a bit far... {source unknown}

This was cute: a classic Chanel No 5 bottle reimagined in orange for a watercolour. If only Chanel re-released it in this shade? {Via Habitually Chic}

Christian Louboutin's country house. Look at how he's even decorated the doors and chairs in Hermès orange. Some people might think this is too much, but I think it's beautiful. Although it only works because of the scale of the room. {Via German Architectural Digest February 2007}

Grace Coddington's new memoir, designed with an uplifting, slightly retro, Cecil Beatoneque-meets-Hermès shade. Out in November. (I've already put it on the Christmas Wish List.)

 David Hicks' books on decorating. David was a big fan of Hermès orange. I've been trying to find editions of these but without success. (Cheap editions, that is.) Will keep looking. I love the turquoise cover: David Hicks on Living With Taste. Makes me laugh every time I see it.

Here's a vintage copy in Kate Spade's SoHo New York store. It wasn't for sale. I asked. They use them as part of the merchandising. Very witty. Although I'm not sure if David would have approved... (He would have gone in and rearranged everything.)

A classic film poster in an unexpected shade. Funny Face, with Miss Audrey.

Sweet! Although if the bike was in orange, it would be even better. {Via Russian Vogue}

A cheery orange carousel in Lisbon Portugal. I have a thing for carousels. Love them. LOVE them. There are several in Paris, and they always make for beautiful photos. {Via This is Glamorous}

America's First Lady Michelle Obama publicising her kitchen garden book. Michelle's a fan of orange too. And not just in the garden. {Source forgotten; will find and credit}

More coral-red than orange, but I'll still take it! Love this. Imagine it on a beach somewhere? {Ditto source}

A vintage Dodge in just the right shade of Hermès orange, perfect to cruise the summer streets in. Love this dashboard. Weren't cars simpler back then? The bucket seat is cute too. Oh, for a car like this! This is a real beach car.

I found this on iTunes the other day while searching for Stevie Nick's songs. (I was having a Seventies moment.) Loved the cover. Although I'm not sure what the third song, 'Fertilizer', is about?

Loving this too. So fabulous. Orange trench. Orange boots. Orange handbag. Too much, do you think? Perhaps. But isn't it eye-catching? I could see this on the streets of New York this winter. It almost needs a shiny black vespa to complete the outfit. Wish I knew who designed this coat. The bag looks very Hermès-ish.

Photographing Paris (& Other Places): A Non-Lesson

I'm always shy of using the word 'lesson'. Nobody wants to be lectured. So this is a kind of a non-tutorial in the art of photography.

As with all non-tutorials, you don't have to follow it. You can just look at the pictures. And if you want to chime in with non-tutorial comments of your own, you're very welcome. After all, I'm still learning about photography. My partner jokes I'm a graduate from the "Click-And-Pray School" of photography, and it's not far from the truth. I always hope the photograph of a scene I see will be as good on screen as it is in reality.

Sometimes it isn't. Sometimes the real thing is so beautiful, so ethereal, I can't possibly capture it with a simple lens. But occasionally I can. Here are some simple things I've learned over the years. Oh – and a good camera helps too! Mine has recently died. RIP.

SHOOT WITH YOUR HEART, NOT YOUR HEAD

I don't take photos of scenes that I think I should take photos of. I take photos of scenes that I want to remember when I'm old and wobbly and and unable to hold a gin and tonic, let alone a heavy SLR.

This photo was taken at the end of a long day walking around Paris. I was crossing a bridge to the islands at exactly the right time. I remember stopping and gazing at this beautiful scene; the light, the clichéd boat, the whole, romantic, Parisian perfectness of it. It touches my heart every time I see it. Take photos that touch your heart.

Don't worry if the composition isn't perfect. The memory will be.

CONSIDER THE LIGHT

Lighting is such a big part of photography. It can make or break a photo. I love shooting cities at twilight. It's the best time of day to take a camera out. A gorgeous sky can make an average composition, such as these (above), look almost acceptable.

CONSIDER COLOUR

Colour is so uplifting. Bold colours can make a photograph come alive. Think of the colours of India, or the Bahamas, or a garden in spring. Try to look for colours when you're walking around. They can be anything – a cafe, a storefront, a gallery wall, even a man in a pea-green coat!

LOOK UP

So many travellers spend their days looking down, at the pavement (cobblestones can make it tricky to walk, I know), or at the street scenes around them, but I think the best scenes are above head-height. Think about the incredible detail of Paris' wrought-iron balconies. The sky passing over the rooftops. The sheer spectacle of the architecture and skyline. Catherine Deneuve's apartment is the enormous greenhouse high above the Square Saint-Sulpice. I wouldn't have known this had I not looked up. (And been told it the day before!)

FOCUS ON A THEME

If you find a colour, a subject matter or a theme you like, try to shoot around it. It will give you a series of photos that have more cohesion than just a whole lot of random shots. I'm partial to gilt things so I'll often shoot scenes that have gold in them. We have a wall here at home with these gilt pix, all framed in gilt. They not only remind me of Paris every time I walk past, they also make me smile.

And that, I think, is what the best photos should do.

Paris in September

I've always loved Paris in September. It's truly magic. The weather is still warm, but the evening air is cool, and as the leaves begin to change shade there is a wistfulness to the city as Parisians sigh over the inevitable end of summer, pull on their cardigans and trenchcoats, and head resignedly into autumn. 

Many of the bars, bistros, grassy knolls and café terraces are jammed with people at once embracing and mourning the lingering sun. In fact, it's not uncommon in September for Parisians to take the afternoon off, if the day is lovely, in order to sit somewhere and reflect upon life for that contemplative period between brunch and l’apéro. It is summer’s end, and, as happens every year in Paris, the city doesn’t know whether to be satisfied or sad.

This time of year is known as la rentrée. A particular Parisian syndrome (and a fabulously onomatopoetic description if ever I’ve heard one), it refers to the time of year when Parisians return to town after their summer sojourns and the city stretches, sighs and repositions itself, in an urban version of yoga, to mentally and physically ready itself for the months ahead. People unpack their suitcases and empty the beach sand from their coloured Bensimmons, children return to school, and the rest reacquaint themselves with their boulanger, fishmonger, neighbours and friends to catch up on the summer gossip (otherwise known as being branchée, or plugged in). In essence, la rentrée is when routine resumes with a quiet new solemnity. Even though much of the city is stressée (stressed) and pressée (in a hurry).

As the city slowly returns to normality after the ebbs and flows of summer, thoughts turn to deadlines, to diaries and social functions, and – as Fashion Week approaches – even to new season’s wardrobes.

Life in Paris is moving into another gear. A new year has begun.

{All photos © copyright Janelle McCulloch 2012}