Spring, at last

It suddenly appeared, and a breath of fresh air has descended upon London. The first signs were very subtle: the days were getting slightly longer, one could sometimes smell the delicate fragrance of a 'Sarcococca' or a Daphne and the snowdrops and 'Hellebores' came out. Spring came two weeks later than last year. I was reminded this by the sweetly scented Magnolia x soulangiana, which has just started flowering. There is an explosion of soft pastel colours sprouting everywhere. Look around, open your senses to the fluffy clouds of the 'Cherry Trees' (Prunus sp) or the 'Snowy Mespilus' (Amelanchier sp), sometimes entangled with a 'Forsythia'. Every spring is a time to fall in love with a looked-over plant, and this year I am seduced by the delicate flowers of a white ' Flowering Quince' (Chaenomeles x superba). I always look in wonder at Nature's talent as a colourist. Indulge in your senses, as it will not last. Soon, Dame Flora will put on her summer coat, preparing the autumn ballet's opening, before going to sleep. Read the Greek myth of Persephone and Demeter that so beautifully explains the mystery of seasonal changes. Are seasons a sensible way to remind us the impermanence of life?

Light and shade

Making the most of natural light is often overlooked when planning a garden. And yet, it is the cherry on the pud... By judiciously juxtaposing hard landscape materials and plants, looking at the colours, the texture and structure, and contrasting light against dark. Fernando Caruncho skilfully plays with different shades of green and texture, making the most of light. Inspiration can be found everywhere. Watch the short film '14ieme arrondissement' by Alexander Payne in 'Paris, je t'aime'. There is an excellent 'jeu de lumiere' when the actress sits in the park. Beverly Pepper, painter, sculptor and land artist designed the small park 'Sol y Ombra' in Barcelona. In my opinion, it is one of the most playful place to observe the effect of light and shade. The Sun element is represented by a large grassy bank that raises from the ground, and the shade is a small spiral, planted with lime trees that protect the area from the blazing sun. Spots of lights hit the ground through the tree canopy. The park represents the Earth with its curves. Visit it if you are in the city. it is a lovely place to sit and wonder.

Mountains

Right now, I need some space...and very naturally my mind drifts to my favourite landscape: mountains. From one part of the world to another, they are very different entities, but all share some common features: the flora, friendly people, the snowy summits and the fresh air. They are big, great, solid, stable, unmoving. In Sanskrit, one of the word for them is a-ga. And it means 'that which doesn't go'. They invite to elevation. They are bursting with life, and they are the place in the world, where I most feel the interconnection and the interdependence between all the elements on this planet. Mountain people are different: friendly, clean, thrifty and yet generous. They concentrate on what is essential, no time to waste in complicated means. I like their modesty, their relationship with people, their deep attachment to life. Mountains are a place where my mind is at peace, where all anxiety disappears and my body relaxes. Oxygen or the lack of it?

V & A : The Medieval and Renaissance Galleries

I visited the Medieval and Renaissance Galleries after reading an article by Tim Richardson in the SGD journal. He described the grand opening gallery as a garden space stylised like an outdoor sculpture court, which was common in the Italian Renaissance's villas. It tempted me but not as much as the cultural richness of this period. I remember well from my day at school that the Middle Ages start in 476, with the falls of the Western Roman Empire. It ends in 1453, with the fall of the Eastern Roman Empire (more rightly called the Byzantine Empire). The sound of 'orient' and 'occident' - as used in my mother tongue - is much more pleasant to my hears. The Renaissance is the transition period between the Middle Ages and the Modern period, and is said to go from the end of the thirteenth century to 1600. These dates are controversial. There have always been periodization issues regarding the end of the Middle Ages, and there increasingly are issues in connection with the start of this period. It doesn't change anything to the diversity of events and cultures. I see it as the richest and most dense period of European History. There is a constant exchange between the West and East, that influences art, architecture, philosophy, science and technology. There are so many beautifully crafted objects, like this 'Large-pattern' Holbein Carpet, that was probably woven by a Muslim craftsman working in an increasingly Christian XV century Spain. The pattern reminds us the long-established Islamic society in Southern Spain, and the way it influenced the cultural development at the time. One could stop at every object and observe. Next time I won't forget my specs...

Year of the Tiger

Sunday, I met my friend Tian under a very cold rain to celebrate the year of the Tiger in Trafalgar Square. Year 4708 for Chinese. The Chinese calendar is lunar, and it is celebrated in countries with significant Han Chinese populations and cultures with whom Chinese have had extensive interactions, including Tibet. The festivities of the so-called Spring Festival starts on the first day of the first month and it ends on the fifteenth day , called Lantern Festival. Traditionally, it was the day when young women, chaperoned by matchmakers, were going in the streets in hope to find a suitable husband. Nowadays it is interpreted as Chinese Valentine's day. Chinese New Year falls on different days of the Gregorian calendar, every year. But it always falls on the second new moon after the winter solstice. The festival ends on the second full moon after the winter solstice and marks the beginning of spring. New year marks the beginning of a new year for a specific calendar. Various cultures around the globe have celebrated the New Year around Spring, such as Nowruz, the Iranian New Year, which falls on the day of the astronomical vernal equinox. Check it out on SOAS website (http://www.soas.ac.uk/events/event56296.html). This makes more sense to the gardener, than the worldwide used 1 January - as in the Gregorian Calendar, which continues the Roman calendar's practice since King Numa Pompilius around 700 BC. We ended up having diner in Phoenix Palace, which was like a trip to Asia. The message in my fortune cookie read " Your wish will be granted after along delay". What wish? Hurry up spring!

Barbican

Yesterday I was desperate to break the winter spell, and I thought I would visit the Barbican conservatory. My trip to the Brazilian rain forest was unsuccessful, as it was closed for a wedding. So instead I took a trip through the surreal maze of concrete buildings and suspended gardens. I lost myself through the different levels peeping at birds' nests in the tree canopy. It is probably one of my favourite place in London. I wish I could do a flat swap for a couple of weeks, and take a holiday here. One could not get bored in a place so full of resources. Visit the London Museum, and learn about 2 000 years of the city's history. The Barbican Centre is Europe's largest multi-arts centre, and holds memorable exhibitions. The concert room has an excellent acoustic, there are three cinemas, a library, a sculpture court and a tropical conservatory, which architecture and plant display I personally found more interesting than the Palm House at Kew. This large residential estate, built between 1965 and 1976, was Grade II listed in 2001. There is a real harmony in scale and cohesion, and between the architecture and landscape. Going up and down, left and right, I could be anywhere in the world, depending on the weather. A film director's dream! But what's a barbican? The etymology of the word is unsure: maybe from the French barbacane, the Arabic bab-khanah or mediaeval English burgh-kenning. My dictionary says 'a projecting watchtower over the gate of a castle or fortified town; esp the outwork intended to defend the drawbridge'. I did not see the drawbridge but the best preserved remains of the city's old walls.

The 'forest'

A grid of 25 cypresses (Cupressus sempervirens) has been planted within a mirrored box, in the Emma Cors Gardens (corner of the Cut and Waterloo Road). It was commissioned by the Waterloo Quarter Business Alliance. It was so popular with residents and people passing by, that the display has been extended. I wish I had been with a playmate the day. Instead I played at guessing who would cross it and who would contour it. It is a good project to remind urban dwellers about the interconnection of every living things. Observing nature, rather than idealising it, could maybe help us to tune our lives to her rhythm, rather than destroying it. I suppose our relationship to nature is a little like a tempestuous love affair; learning the hard way through doing it all wrong and making a total mess. There is hope: no situation is insoluble.

Samten Kyil...

...means the Garden of Contemplation in Tibetan. The Tibetan Garden for Peace is located in the Imperial War Museum's ground, in Lambeth. For all information check http://www.tibet-foundation.org/ac/tpg.php. I love the idea of a garden to help us reflect upon harmony and its constituents. Despite the cold I mooched around this tiny space for a relatively long time, looking at all the components and their symbols. There are many references to the Tibetan culture, of course. But the garden is primarily a symbol of harmony that can be created between different people and cultures. I observed its laying and found shared elements with gardens across spaces and times. Observing nature and learning about other cultures has open my eyes on the deep interdependence of all living things. I want to come back in the summer, when the pergola is covered with scented climbers. Maybe to meditate on harmony, peace and what could be my contribution to peace. I share the gardener Moustache's opinion on war : "...une petite guerre de rien du tout peut aneantir un tres grand jardin."

Winterscapes

It is snowing again, and I wonder when it will stop. I haven't experienced a winter like this for years. Last Friday, Alix told me that she was scared she would stay in when spring arrives. It is not as bad as in Berlin though, where a 10 cm crust of ice hasn't melt in 2 months. However I kind of like winter. Maybe not when it is raining, but on a crisp bright day the landscape is beautiful. Just go in a park and look at the trees. In my opinion, it is the best time of the year to identify them at a glance, or by looking at their buds and twigs, if you want to know the species. Playing 'spot the difference' with the children is a lot of fun. The London Plane (Platanus x acerifolia, syn. P. x hispanica, P. x hybrida) develops with age a wide-spreading outline with massive branches, and finer twigs that look like lace. Fruits - borne in 2's, sometimes 3's - are dangling from the branches. The bark looks like a camouflage fabric in soft shades of cream, olive and light brown. It is smoothly rough to the touch. Check out the specimen outside the Dorchester Hotel in W1, very dramatic when lit up at night. The tree is a cross between the American Plane (Platanus occidentalis) and the Oriental Plane (Platanus orientalis), which is a major feature to provide shade in Persian and other gardens of central and south Asia. I want to travel soon to both Isfahan and the Kashmiri valley to understand better the principles behind the gardens there.

Al Badi Palace

Badi means "marvelous, magnificent". In 1578, the Sultan Sa'adian Ahmad-al-Mansur (1549-1603) was enthroned, and he started to build this huge palace with open courtyards. Very quickly after his death the palace went into disrepair, and was destroyed, in 1710, by the Alaouite Sultan Mawlay Ismail who used the Italian marble and the gold from Sudan for his palace in Meknes. Last year, returning from India, I developed an interest in Islamic gardens. Gardens are a great path to learn about the history and customs of different cultures. Al- Badi is very interesting, as it has not yet been restored. Therefore, it was easy to observe the traditional watering system. The sunken beds, would have been planted with scented plants, with utilitarian values. In this case, I believe, orange and lemon trees (Citrus sp) were planted in array, so the top of their canopies would just reach the level of the paved walkway. The basins were fitted with a split water channel, which arms would be blocked to divert the water in the beds requiring the irrigation. This system is clever, as the moisture is longer conserved by the canopy of the trees. Max found the noise of the stokes much more interesting than my explanations.

Flow

One of my favourite features of Londinium is the river Thames. As far back I can remember I have always been fascinated by urban rivers, which I explain by the fact that my hometown's river, la Senne, has been built over. I have crossed most London bridges, at least once, by foot or by car. It doesn't matter, as long as I can admire the continuous and calm flow of the Thames. Rivers are sacred for me.water is the source of life, historically and biologically. Most civilisation have developed along a river that provided them with food, drink, power and transport. Biologically, they support a great deal of wildlife, macro- and microorganisms, forming the food chain. Symbolically, they are very important to me. A long time ago, a total stranger I met in MachuPichu, and who could read me like a book (to this day the encounter remains a mystery to me), advised me to look at rivers to understand life. I pretty quickly tired of looking at the Urubamba River, and didn't think of it until seeing the Ganges in Rishikesh, where it comes to the plains from the hills. We followed it uphill, and the thought came back, making sense now... The water always get around the stones to eventually reach the sea. I believe the flow of life is very similar.

Food

It's winter and cold. I feel ravenous most of the time. My primal instinct of hunter-gatherer has resurfaced. And London is a paradise for foodies. Walking certainly helps me to conceive food for thoughts and to discover places for foodies. Best coffee in London is sold at the Algerian Coffee Store in Old Compton Street. Check their website, you can buy on line. Italian deli, Lina Store, sells the best fresh ravioli. My favourite are those stuffed with crayfish. It makes a perfect quick lunch with a simple rocket salad. I try to buy seasonal fruits and vegetables in farmer markets. They taste much better than any (organic or not) that has been stored in a fridge for several weeks. The best part of it all is talking with small shop keeper, who will oblige and reveal food tips and cooking secrets...

A date with Leon

Yesterday I had an exciting date with my friend Leon. He is the 20 months son of my "Vals" friends, whose hospitality I abuse without shame. A date with Leon is always exciting. He is a breath of fresh air, and he forces me to take a different look at life. We went for an afternoon walk to the pond in Kensington Garden. The goal was too stare at the ducks and other water foils. The walk from the gate to the pond took us at least three times the time it would usually take me. Leon walks with a purpose: the ducks, but it doesn't stop him to look and marvel at everything. He has a curious mind and sees everything. Like most children he is fascinated by the squirrels, and approach them as close as he can. But his favourite game is too push down worm cast, or running away from us to show his disappointment as we didn't bring any stale bread to feed the birds.

Hanway Street

Not long ago, as I was botanising and sociologising (I know it is not a verb but I like it!) on the asphalt, I got side tracked to Hanway Street. Number 22 was playing a good tune of old rock & roll, the door was open, and I could not resist but go in. I had a brief encounter with the owner, Tim, and even bought a second-hand book on rock journalism. Nick is a character, and I decided to go back, take a picture, and have a chat with him. I found some time this afternoon, and this is the result. He wasn't reluctant about the pic or the chat, which was the funniest I've had in a long time. Tim has been selling records in the shop since 1979, and it is my idea of Ali Baba's sesame... To my question "Why did you open a music record shop?" he answered: "Bad luck..wrong time,wrong place...prison sentence" (giggles) -"what do you mean?" - "I live my life in a box, but could be worst like Mc Donald" ( more giggles) -" You must have seen so many people in 30 years" -" I don't recognise people" -"What you did not recognise me today?" - "How could I forget you?" (very sarcastic giggles)

Indian Horse Chestnut

Aesculus indica is one of my favourite horse chestnut. I have a special relationship with this tree and I can't forget its name or its appearance. Some may think because its country of origin - the Indian Himalayas - and it may well be one of the reasons. The story starts at the end of my first year in Kew. The flowers had long withered, and the unripe fruits were dangling from its branches. An old couple of visitors asked me the name of this tree, rightly pointing that the fruit looked like a fig, but that all other features were far from any fig tree they knew. I didn't have the time to look for the label when I heard Greg, head of the training section, shouting with contempt: "It is an INDIAN HORSE CHESTNUT". It was so shameful , I will never forget. The only thing I can tell is that I took a very close look at the tree, and went back to learn all its seasonal features. I was reward as I recognise it everywhere last year in the Himalayan foothills. The conkers are very similar in shape to the European Horsechestnut (A. hippocastaneum), just darker and rougher. A smaller eye - I like to call it the third eye - is drawn within the buckeye's white centre. This tree is, to my taste, the finest of the genus. The flowers bloom a little later than most species, and the summer foliage is a lustrous dark green that changes to orange/red in autumn. This tree has an undefinable poise. I have often observed its resistance to the Horsechestnut leaf miner (Cameraria ohridella), which is another good reason to be planted. And sometimes, when I look at a flower like that, all the misery and nonsense vanish, as by magic...

Columbia Road

Sundays are buzzing in Columbia Road. It is my favourite market in London, not last because of the flowers. It is colourful and lively, and the community is friendly. My friend Sonia lives here, and I have rediscovered this street over the summer on the quieter week days. I love to mooch in this area, make new friends. If you happen to be here on a Sunday, a few shops are worth visiting. My friend Mark keeps Far, a lovely antique shop that sells, at fair prices, Indian and African furniture and bric-a-brac. If you are looking for pots and planters, don't go further than The Red Mud Hut. I got to know Simon, who very kindly stored two planters I could not take away. He's a green fingered jewel maker. And they all let me advertise my business for free, helping me to find new customers. Last Sunday, I discovered a new folk/blues band basking on the street. Check out www.myspace.com/thebonfireband for their dates. Sadly, they haven't loaded any tunes on their page. I bought the album, which sounds like red maple leaves falling in a ray of autumn sun.

Equilibrium

In Physics, equilibrium is the state of an object when no part of it is accelerating. And it is happening everywhere. Are we fed up with the speedy pace of modern life? Lately I have randomly met people who are more interested in emotional balance. Last Friday, my cousin Rodolphe very kindly took me out to the Eagle in Farringdon (check it out, the food is delicious!), and I met a Swedish girl, as I was reading Healing without Freud or Prozac by David Servan-Schreiber. My expression, as I was reading, striked her, and she wanted to know what I was reading. We talked for at least 10 minutes about the importance of developing one's EQ. It was totally surreal, and both her boyfriend(?) and my cousin looked puzzled that two total strangers could talk, as if they had known each other for ever. The following day, I was buying some food supplements in a west London shops. A client said that he had to do something to the shop keeper, who rightly replied: "No man you don't have to do anything, don't put such pressure on yourself.". I backed him up to the great surprise of the other. And it is true, we are free to chose what we want to do. There is no absolute truth, it is only a way to stop us from being ourselves, and self-pressure, only contributes to violence and terrorism. Something is changing fast, everywhere. I walk up this morning and was humming - anyone knowing me knows I constantly sing without noticing it anymore - the song Am I black enough by the Chosen Few. And it goes: "We gonna move on up one by one...we ain't gonna stop 'till the work is over. We gonna move on up two by two, and this all world is gonna be brand new..." I am still humming with a broad smile on my face...

Tied to others

London is an individualist city, where one can easily lost him/herself, and feel lonely. Historically, it is a trade city where people run after wealth and riches. Every big brand promotes their products on the ground of originality, when really everybody is dressed with the same poorly made clothes, eats the same industrial food. Something is changing though, life certainly is a battle in this world but one needs to go beyond survival to give it a sense. Lately, I have interacted in the street with strangers, and have started to think differently. This charming lady from the Balkans stopped me walking - or should I say running - to ask me, with a strong Russian accent, if the buses were running. She'd obviously waited for a long time. And of course, I couldn't resist but take a picture. Today, I was waiting for a friend at the corner of Electric Avenue, and a charming Jamaican old man kindly asked if I could hold his canvas bag for him to put a carrier bag in. And he rightly pointed that we need each other. My mind drifted on the meaning of freedom. Is it just independence, self-expression and originality? Or does it go beyond that? Independence, when isolated, makes one lonely, and therefore loses all its sense. I am experiencing the benefits of interacting with members of the urban community, without being tied to a group. I experienced that interaction can serve my professional and personal life. On Saturday, I was shopping at my local hardware store, and was telling my business plans to one of the shopkeepers. A client, who was eavesdropping, gave me some useful advice. I later learnt that he was opening a bakery round the corner from me... a new coffee place in South Island Place. It came as a great news for the days I feel to lazy to make my own breakfast...

Harlequin Glorybower

I love Autumn. Colours are beautiful. The light is constantly changing, and the landscape looks different throughout the day. In my opinion, autumn is the best time of the year to peep into front gardens. I know I am a sad person, but I can't help myself. Front gardens reveal so much about their owners personality; pleached trees and immaculately clipped box squares to match the big white cubes one can guess looking through white curtains, or messy and spontaneous gardens of old roses poking behind a wall too high to reveal the interior of a house. Walking around the other day, I came across one of my favourite plants Clerodendrum trichotomum. This shrub originally hails from Eastern China and Japan, and to tell the truth I haven't seen yet in its native habitats. Overall, it is a rather unattractive plants. It only caught my eyes, as it was standing by itself, braving trained and clipped plants in the surrounding gardens. And I've never resisted the beauty of its fruits: star-shaped with five reddish arms hugging a metallic blue centre. One can use a hand lens to observe this autumnal gem. And if I add the sweet fragrance produced by its summer flowers, the I am a very happy gardener indeed.

Eldorado of Modern Times

Supermarkets are packed with food and crammed with people. They either walk purposely towards their prey. They, more often, blankly stare at the shelves, confused by so much choice. One is amazed how little interaction happens between strangers. Sometimes people argue when someone jumps the queue at the till, or when the 'self-service check-out' (horrible thought and word) has broken down. On such occasions, one can hear a very loud rosary of fuck this and that. Supermarkets and the lack of contact are at the antipodes of independent food stores or markets, where the cashier -even when he is very rude - doesn't offend my hears half as much as a bleeping machine. I once needed to find some ingredients for a new recipe, and didn't know what a groundnut was. I was determined to come back home with what seemed essential to a food venture's success , and asked around me to quiet shoppers. A Swiss couple did their best to help me in my quest, without success, as they did not know more about groundnuts than I did. Some people looked offended to be spoken to by a stranger in a supermarket, and gave me dirty looks for not minding my own business, like everybody else! This sociological experience reinforces my belief that mankind increasingly prefers to talk with machines than with their peers. And, if like me, you don't know what a groundnut is, a very kind gentleman, looking sceptic at my question, eventually gave me the answer: "It is a peanut".