Trisha's Meanderings: The Ephemeral Garden
Ephemeral… fleeting…
One of the most joyful weeks I can remember at Bobundara was spent with a group of friends, creating ephemeral sculpture together. And yes, it was all too fleeting but remnants of that brief, beautiful moment in time still remain, sheltered by the towering elms in the wild garden.
The days flew past and we had no plan at all. Simply to create whatever took our fancy, from whatever we could find in the garden, in the bush, or in the pile of farm machinery and bits and pieces that had accumulated over nearly two hundred years.
And so a giant birds nest was tucked into the shelter and shade of the elms. Wreaths were woven from grape and wisteria vines. An iron hoop hung from an elm branch formed a stunning living window to the creek below. And much, much more besides.
I have long been an Andy Goldsworthy devotee, and over the years have stumbled across two truly inspiring ephemeral exhibitions quite by chance in my travels. Those encounters made the idea of gathering a group of creative friends for a week of making feel not just appealing but necessary.
Gardens are ephemeral by nature. Some of the most memorable garden visits I have had were ones where artisans had created works of art not meant to last, but made simply for the pleasure of creating. And for the pleasure of sharing, which is one of the most generous and inclusive acts there is.
And so the wigwam sculptures in the wild garden at Bobundara took shape. I talked to the children about sculpture, and they created the most wonderful stick wigwam. It went on to be featured on the front cover of the very first issue of Wonderground, appeared in magazine articles and books, and it still stands on the banks of the Myalla Creek, winding its way through the wild garden.
The most joyous celebration of ephemeral art I have ever encountered is near my village of Camon, in the Ariège region of southern France. A local property owner opens his land each year to the community of Lieurac, who gather to create esoteric works of art in the oak woods outside the village, then share them with everyone. The whole area opened free to visitors who can wander, enjoy, and be inspired by the evident thought, artistry, and delight that have gone into every piece. As well as the works themselves, fashioned from fallen timber, twigs, stones, pebbles, flowers and feathers. Paths wind through almost head-height beds of cosmos, cleome, giant sunflowers and brilliantly coloured blooms, vegetables and herbs growing amongst it all.
It brought to mind a quote by George Sand, which I came across in a small garden of the senses in the tiny village of Chédigny in the Loire Valley:
"La nature est éternellement jeune, belle et généreuse. Elle possède le secret du bonheur, et nul n'a su le lui ravir."
Nature is eternally young, beautiful and generous. It holds the secret of happiness, and no one has ever been able to take it away.
Trisha x
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