GARDENING / And for my next trick . . .: Helen Chappell shares some techniques to transform a garden by playing with perspective

Helen Chappell
Saturday 16 October 1993 18:02 EDT
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GARDENING at this time of year is not always the exciting riot of autumnal hues boasted about by the experts. For many of us it is more a case of soggy piles of leaves and the annual moss invasion of the lawn. Worst of all, denuded of summer flower and foliage, the basic design faults of the garden are cruelly exposed.

Drearystraight borders follow a rectangle of bare creosoted fence; footling little island beds apologise for their existence. Dark, forgotten corners hum with seasonal decay and swarms of drowsy gnats while beyond our boundaries loom the breezeblock sheds, satellite dishes and pylons of the neighbourhood.

I have decided that there is only one way to fight off the encroaching gloom of the winter garden. I shall transform myself into an instant garden designer. Instead of fretting about how awful it is now, I shall imagine how the garden could look next year with a little artistic imagination and some willing slaves to carry out the heavy spadework.

The key to it all is perspective. In other words, it doesn't matter how big, small or ugly things really are, all that counts is the 'picture' that reaches your eye when you peer out of the back door or bedroom window. It's the same process as framing a photograph in the viewfinder of a camera. Start with the problems farthest away. Big eyesores outside the garden demand strategically placed trees and shrubs. It might seem a good idea to plant a line of the tallest, quickest growing specimens you can lay hands on. But this solution is usually as depressing as the original problem - a pallisade of drab conifers casting shade over the whole garden, making it look half its real size and demanding to be constantly clipped.

Far better to wait a bit. You can estimate the ideal tree size using the height of the fence as a rule of thumb. If your 'picture' demands a tree three times taller than your two-metre fence, you need a six-metre tree. In this case, you could choose Acer platanoides 'Schwedleri' or Betula pendula 'Tristis'. A couple of these spaced apart diagonally halfway up the garden should blot out the neighbour's loft extension nicely.

Smaller eyesores may only need a decent-sized shrub such as Cornus alba 'Elegantissima' or Arundinaria murielae. For your next trick, take a long hard look at the garden fence. Is there anything about it that delights the eye? If not, banish it from your sight by painting it green to blend in with the background. Once covered by climbers or tall plants it should vanish into thin air.

This should also have the happy effect of merging your humble plot into the surrounding greenery of adjacent gardens or countryside. With a boundary-softening jumble of plant sizes in the border, your estate may now look quite impressive (of course it's not cheating - 18th-century aristocrats did the same thing).

The opticalillusions need not stop there. If, like me, you've always craved a bigger garden, there are more cunning plans you could try. Dividing it into smaller sections can, paradoxically, make it seem bigger. Screening off one or two areas with a climber-clad trellis, set diagonally to the boundary fence, can work wonders. The eye is eager to pry into the secret places created, imagining them to be bigger and more interesting than they really are.

A similar effect is possible by changing the shape of the lawn and borders. Create a false perspective by turning a square-shaped lawn on end to make a diamond. Plant right up to the edge of the grass and - presto] - suddenly everything seems more lush and secluded. Taper the sides of a formal rectangular lawn, making the bottom edge narrower than the top. Or shape it into a bold curve sweeping round to a seat or arbour at one side. Reduce the boredom of a long narrow garden by driving an undulating 'snake' lawn through the middle, surrounded by deep borders. A wide, open garden that feels like a playing field (and brings back distressing memories of school sports) can shape up too. A deep border on the left curving round and tapering off to a 'vanishing point' in the bottom right hand corner gives a bogus, but satisfying illusion of length.

Tricks stolen from the artist's drawing board are bound to include the sneaky use of colour. Bright shades like scarlet, orange, yellow and brilliant white appear to the eye to be nearer than cool, pastel blues, purples and greys, which seem to recede into the distance.

Positioning plantswith eye-catching colours near the house and misty hues at the end of the garden will make it look longer. Weigela florida 'Albovariegata' and a drift of bluebells would look beautifully hazy and distant in May, while the bright yellow foliage of Lonicera nitida 'Baggesen's Gold' or Berberis thunbergii 'Aurea' would catch the eye in the foreground. (Leaf texture enhances this effect: plant bold foliage near your viewpont - mahonia, fatsia - and smaller-leaved shrubs - grasses, artemisia - further away.) Seats, pots and gates can also play the colour game. Paint them soft brown or green to merge or recede or brighten a dark corner with white, red, blue or yellow.

Focal points such as ornaments and striking plants can perform quite a few little miracles. Next to an awkward garden eyesore which has resisted all your attempts at screening or camouflage they can distract the onlooker's attention. Now you see it, now you don't. A focal point statue or urn placed near the centre of your 'picture' helps by stopping you from taking in the sight of the whole garden at a glance. Once again, the gullible eye sees it as somehow bigger.

On the bend of a garden path as it disappears from view, a focal point adds a hint of mystery and expectation. Vistas you never knew you had suddenly appear when an ornament pops up at the end of a pathway; or you could use some living sculpture in the shape of the columnar holly Ilex aquifolium 'Green Pillar' or the smaller crimson upright camellia 'Anticipation'. And there's no biblical commandment saying that the path has to bash straight down the garden from one end to the other without hesitation, deviation or repetition. Diverting it around a dramatic plant or statue, branching it off into unknown territory or obscuring it completely in places should spice things up a bit.

Once you have sorted out the design basics, the saddest autumn garden should start to seem a lot more promising. Time for a bit of fun, perhaps. I'm plotting some blatant trompe l'oeil special effects for my backyard. I might defeat the wall of death where nothing green will grow with a mural of painted vegetation. Or I may enlighten the darkest, gnattiest border with a heavy-duty mirror on the fence, angled to reflect phantom leaves and sky. The edges can be disguised behind an old window frame or mass of foliage. While I'm at it, I may as well throw in a fake door too, nailed to a wall to delude naive visitors into thinking I own rolling acres I am too modest to reveal.

A masterpiece needs a frame, of course, and peering at them through an arch, pergola,

trellis screen or pair of standard trees in pots could set off these brand new vistas perfectly. Next year I want to make sure the view from every door and window in the house is romantically surrounded by encroaching climbers on three sides, with window boxes completing the picture.

Just before I shut my sketch book for the day, I've also made a note to investigate the mysteries of garden lighting, so that my efforts don't fade away at sunset. Another time perhaps. Meanwhile, the bare fences, straight borders and piles of wet leaves outside have been warned. Now you see them, soon you won't.

(Photographs omitted)

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