This is the same tree as was featured in the previous post. I took that picture in leaf, then took a trip, and when I came back it was completely bare. Here’s a winter silhouette, and, since several commented on it, a close-up of the nebari.
Red Maple, Acer rubrum, October 2011. The upward and outward flowing branches create its natural feeling.
Nebari
Posted in Development | Tagged acer rubrum, deciduous bonsai, Maple bonsai, red maple, red maple bonsai, winter silhouette | 4 Comments »
This post is dedicated to Portland’s own dear lady of deciduous, Anne Spencer, who passed recently. Anne grew this Red maple, Acer rubrum, from a three year old seedling twenty years ago. It is one of the joys of my backyard. This maple is a fine example of what slow dedicated work can bring, which is really the only way to an excellent deciduous product.
This year the Red maple is orange... the color of the photo does not get the glow of the orange quite right. 18" high.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Anne Spencer, deciduous bonsai, Maple bonsai, red maple, red maple bonsai | 12 Comments »
You think bonsai artists take things a bit far sometimes? This artist’s compulsive clean-up acts made me laugh out loud… His name is Ursus Wehrli.
Before...
...and after! Never seen men, women and children organized quite like this...
And here's a new take on foliage cleanup...
Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments »
Spruce bonsai have been ‘in the news’ this past year or two. I’ve posted one spruce already this fall… and I thought, why not continue the trend? So here’s another one. Some of you might remember this four-trunk Ezo spruce clump from an earlier post. It was styled in 2009 and left rather leggy as we can’t always cut to where we’d like the first time around. The recent rewiring allowed me to take the branches back to about where the profile should be.
Spruce is a very popular tree for bonsai in Japan. The vigor and tenacity as a potted tree is equaled by few genera, and the serene, quiet feeling of it is greatly appreciated over the water.
As the tree looked after initial styling and 'potting' in 2009. Stubs were left on cut branches to control some bleeding of the sap.
In September 2011 before rewiring. In 2010 I planted some 'Kokinsai' azalea to the rear, which is a dwarf azalea.
As it looks now following rewiring. There are still thin areas, particularly in the apexes. Spruce develops rather rapidly, however, and I think in about three years this should look more mature. It's starting to look 'quiet'. Halfway there! Although we could argue whether there is ever a 'there' in bonsai.
Posted in Before and after, Development | Tagged ezo spruce, ezo spruce bonsai, spruce bonsai, styling spruce bonsai | 9 Comments »
I worked on this tree some years ago, probably 2006 or 2007. I just came across the photos the other day and it was like rediscovering an old acquaintance. Boon Manakitivipart was kind enough to give me some work shortly following my return from apprenticing in Japan. This was one of the trees from his backyard that he offered.
This was a day’s work. Curious tree, I think it is rather Chinese in feeling. I still remember working on it, snapping off the jins to create natural, un-carved deadwood. They were so dry they sounded like firecrackers. Made Boon a bit jumpy, I think. And I still have the shirt I wore that day…
This is a Western juniper, which is a fast developing, very strong species. Like most junipers there is some variability in the foliage habit, whether it is loose and leggy or tight and refined. It does tend to grow the preferred scale foliage as a bonsai. Its best characteristics are a beautifully colored underbark, which is rich brown to salmon color, and very strong roots and shoots.
A few years after collecting from Idaho
I still think of it as the 'Chinese' juniper... That lower right branch that curls in and out was a great gift of nature.
Posted in Before and after | Tagged bonsai before and after, Juniperus occidentalis, styling bonsai, Western Juniper bonsai | 2 Comments »
When I was in graduate school learning ceramics, a friend of mine asked our sculpture teacher when he was demonstrating assembling a work with clay slabs, sticks, and coils, ‘When you’re making those decisions, what are you thinking?’ The teacher paused and replied simply, ‘I’m not thinking at all.’ And he looked at us and carefully warned us of creating and analyzing at the same time, ‘You’ll fail at that. It’s the worst trap of all, thinking while making.’
Well, that sounded like weird stuff to us. Why would we want to turn off the negotiating mind, telling us what’s right and what’s not? Only years later his advice makes a lot of sense. I’ve spent the last twenty five years meandering through various arts like painting, sculpting, making pots, and now creating bonsai—and in all of these visual endeavors, thinking was only useful after the work was done and the hands fell to my sides. Then I could begin to assess.
♦ A drumbeat, a poem, a dance, or a tree are not problems to solve. They are feelings expressed.
Artistic creation is an act of feeling. Putting a feeling into some other form. Probably the most challenging of arts use words, like poetry. Because, with words, we naturally get rather literal and think of ‘flower petals’ or ‘mongoose’ or ‘watch out!’ (for the mongoose) or whatever words the poet is using. The poet jostles words together to form not the thought but the feeling that cannot be really reached with a straightforward, ‘These words mean what I say.’ Poetry is not problem solving, not mathematics. And yet we often make that same literal mistake with bonsai.
♦ The tight skin of a drum speaks not of skin.
In bonsai we have hurdles that waylay us in expression. It is especially difficult because bonsai is a ‘traditional art’—two words which nearly contradict each other. We are taught that to make a tree a bonsai it must have a certain arrangement of branches in relation to the trunk, that without the proper order it is not a good bonsai. We are taught that a radial root system is preferred. That the trunk should taper upwards. Etc. These are our tools, the craft of bonsai. And yes, they’re all valid. And yet interestingly, the older the tree, such as truly antique collected conifers, the less these rules apply and the more open we need to be to exception, acceptance, expression and feeling. The guidelines of bonsai are useful. They also trip us up and can misguide us, especially with older trees. They keep us thinking, organizing with our minds, critical. The older the stock, the more we have to approach the work as a poet who jostles words around. Only we’re jostling branches. Deadwood. Inclination of trunk.
♦ What was built by the body is a challenge to the mind.
Another mistake I think we tend to make with trees is working too fast on them. Not that the manipulation is too fast, but that the ‘Forward ho!’ intention is too abrupt. Sit with your tree. Sometimes for a year or more. Feel out the possibilities. What is the trunk resonating in you? Where should the branches go? Lay out all the directions as if from a compass in your body (not your mind) and one direction will eventually keep rising above the rest. When you begin working this way, like my sculptor teacher, you too may not be able to put into words why you chose that way over another, because you weren’t really thinking about it. You felt your way there. And you might find, as the drummer and poet, that the body has a keen understanding that is inaccessible to our mental apparatus.
♦ A successful, evocative bonsai does not solve anything. It deepens the mystery.
A big part of being creative in the visual arts is to open the eyes without engaging the mind, too. It is easier sometimes to close the eyes. Sadly, we cannot easily do this, although I often think blind people would make wonderful bonsai.
The wry contradiction is that bonsai is about vision, yet when we look with our eyes we begin, unfortunately, to think. As bonsai artists, you are charged with the sleight of hand of opening the eyes without that voice behind them, directing, criticizing, analyzing.
Just open them.
(This post is Part II of a series. See also, The Hook To Hang Our Hat On: Part I)
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Bonsai, bonsai aesthetics, Bonsai Art, Crataegus Bonsai, Michael Hagedorn | 16 Comments »
This orchid, Habenaria radiata, (syn. Pecteilis radiata) is from Asia and is one of the most delicate and lovely of the terrestrial orchids commonly used as an accent for bonsai. It grows from a bulb that over-winters without leaves. A couple years ago I put two bulbs in this pot and they’ve trebled in number, sending up six flower stalks this summer. The photo is informal, but I hope you get a feel for the floating quality of the 1″ flowers. They are breathtaking in person.
I plant Egret flower in straight kanuma and keep it in sun or light shade, and they flower in late august in Portland, Oregon, lasting a couple weeks. It seems to grow better along with other plants such as grass or reed. Keep moist, it is a bog/marsh plant. You might wrap each bulb lightly in a bit of spagnum when inserting in the kanuma to keep them from drying. Egret flower takes light frosts without problems. I leave the bulbs in the pots and they come up in the spring.
Hopefully you don’t mind postings of accent plants… I think bonsai yards are missing something important without them interspersed on the benches. You can keep accents elsewhere when not doing something interesting, and then put them up on the benches when they are putting on a show.
Egret flowers with stonecrop and grass.
How they do soar! 12 in bloom, 5 more in bud. Two days later I had 16 in bloom...
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Accent plant, bonsai accent, bonsai companion, Habenaria radiata, orchid, Pecteilis radiata, White Egret Flower | 13 Comments »
This Engelmann spruce was originally owned by a guy up in Seattle and I suspect it grew in a mica drum pot for a couple decades. Collected in the Cascades many years ago, it has nice flaky, mature bark and sports a healthy community of lichen up and down the main trunk.
It was growing wildly and moppish when I bought it in 2008, and was styled in 2009. When wiring spruce, be careful to spray the foliage with water first. Otherwise many healthy needles might simply drop off, which really weakens a tree. Ezo spruce is especially sensitive to agitated needles; hydrating them first makes them more durable.
I like the calm, peaceful feeling of spruce. (They smell nice too!) This one would look good in a tokonoma display, maybe with a water stone to suggest a serene high mountain lake. Or, for the ironically inclined, a small figurine of a panting, exhausted hiker, leaning on a stick…
The Engelmann before work, 2008.
An early shot of the styled tree, October 2009, 31" high.
After a two years of growth, August 2011. The plywood base is temporary... I'm considering leaving this without a pot at all, just a solid root ball with, eventually, a hidden support underneath. Something my Seasonal students will play a hand in...
View of mature bark, lichen, and nebari.
An evergreen penstemon serves as an on-board accent. This one is native to the Cascade Range where the Engelmann lives. Small purple flowers come in late spring.
Same day, different lighting. Interesting how the character of the tree changes with the lighting, yes? This photo is very close to the natural blue/green of the foliage.
Posted in Before and after, Development | Tagged Accent plant, bonsai styling, Engelmann spruce, penstemon, spruce bonsai | 11 Comments »
The client who owns this pine is a cribbage player, and after noodling trees during the day we retire to the kitchen table where he proceeds to lesson me in cribbage, usually with shocking losses. The styling of this pine dates from the very first visit to his house when we discovered our common interest in cribbage. I don’t remember who won more games that night. And I’ve never had the courage to keep track since.
He’s done very well maintaining this tree, and even in the low-sun area of the Puget Sound the tree is ramifying beautifully. With time and further ramification the needle length will shorten a bit.
The pine in its box, 2007. It was collected by John Muth several years prior to this photo.
After that first morning's work in 2007.
After a bit of prepping in August 2011. The 'tail' that juts from the right of the trunk is optionally removable. The pot is not right, it's a training pot and is a bit heavy. The nebari has yet to be fully exposed, which is fantastic. We're waiting expectantly to fit it into a shallower pot that just arrived. Spring, hasten!
Posted in Before and after, Development | Tagged bonsai styling, nebari, pine development, Ponderosa bonsai, Ponderosa pine | 8 Comments »
If you like wearing hats, like me, you’ll know that just about anything can be a hat support. Anything, really: A chair, a hook, a doorknob. A rack in the oven. Hats, if you’re a hat person, are everything. You live for hats. You don’t live for the hook.
Oddly enough, we can get everything backwards when it comes to things that have forms, like bonsai. We mistake the hook for the hat. We think making forms is the end-all of the adventure, and remain preoccupied with what’s on the surface.
I had a yoga teacher in Arizona who, when he saw a sunset, would break into a spontaneous asana, like a triangle pose or a tree pose. He just did it without thinking. It was the feeling he had when he saw the sunset. That guy had it right—the feeling creates the form. But he was not a beginner. Most of us, like me, do yoga in dimmed rooms and wonder if our pose is really as good as we can make it. And we do it some more until we pull a muscle… so involved we are with the form. The hook.
Yoga is outwardly similar to bonsai, making forms with bodies rather than trees. But yoga teachers are clear that yoga is not simply about making the most perfect poses with our bodies. For that is an unending search for the kind of perfection it denies. We work with the imperfections of our bodies to gain some grace and acceptance of them, and to acknowledge that our lifestyle and approach to living is mirrored in our bodies. There’s the hat.
And doesn’t that sound a bit like bonsai? If you see an old pine at the top of a mountain after a long hike, is it likely to be in a perfect pose? It’s as tired as we are. Are we not more willing, after that arduous hike and wondering about the knees that were once young, to forgive this tree it’s own transgressions on perfection, and on our expectations?
We engage with bonsai, but if open to the experience of bonsai, we engage with ourselves. The hook is the tree… the hat is within us.
The inimitable Hogwarts Sorting Hat…
We tend to employ many hooks to occupy ourselves, don’t we? I have a few. Yoga is one. Argentine tango another. In tango I enjoy the vulnerable collaboration, and the inability in close embrace in hiding from your partner what kind of day you just had.
Bonsai is my biggest hook, though, and I hang my best hats there: A care-taking responsibility, a tuning fork for the seasons, a philosophic metaphor for life, a collaborative slow-motion tango, and a calming, low-impact way to stay out of worse trouble.
Sometimes while teaching a class I recite a part of a poem that reflects the feeling I have looking at a particular tree. Perhaps your link to bonsai, your hat, is more than joy at seeing a pleasing form, and perhaps it’s a very different hat from mine, but whatever it is I urge you to explore that.
I have yet to hang a hat on a bonsai, a real hat I mean. I hang all kinds of other metaphorical hats on them. Because that is what I think bonsai are. They are hooks to hang our hats on.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged about bonsai, Bonsai, Bonsai philosophy, Michael Hagedorn | 12 Comments »
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