An Artful Collaboration
STORY BY KATE REYNOLDSPHOTOGRAPHY BY RIMAS ZAILSKAS
It’s one of the remarkable things about artists. They are drawn to enhance everything they touch — to put their mark upon it and make it their own. Mold it, refine it. It’s their nature and way of being. So when two inspired souls set about to make a garden, the results are bound to be extraordinary.And so it is for Catharine and Gerry Brown. Gerry, a master woodworker, is well known for his custom carved wood doors, while Catharine creates fused and cast glasswork, as well as ceramic sculpture. Recently, they began collaborating on doors; her luminous glass panels punctuating his intricately detailed portals. It’s an easy mix, but then again, they’ve been working in artistic partnership for years, nurturing an outdoor space that incorporates their appreciation of all things Japanese with their own unique talents.
The property surrounding their Arts & Crafts bungalow in Asheville’s Kenilworth neighborhood was less than stirring when they purchased the home 18 years ago. “We had an old decaying tree, a bad lawn, tangled vines and a few dying dogwoods,” notes Catharine. There was, however, a stunning old weeping cherry, no doubt planted when the house was built. It spoke to them.
It spoke to them of Japan — of cherry blossoms and serene landscapes where one could wander along winding paths in quiet contemplation. The Browns determined that, before undertaking the garden project, they’d build a guest cottage beside the tree, a place for meditation and musical pursuits. “My husband and I love the Japanese aesthetic; the architecture, the landscapes, the music, the food — you name it,” says Catharine, “so Gerry designed the cottage in the Japanese style, and he and our son, Teal, built it together.”
With the cottage setting the scene, the landscape began to reveal itself. Catharine enlisted the assistance of master Japanese gardener Masashi Oshita in designing the overall plan, but also relied on her own artistic impulses.
“This isn’t a strictly traditional Japanese garden,” she explains. “It’s a hybrid of East and West, with some elements of the English garden thrown in. Masashi said, ‘You know, in a Japanese garden, you don’t want much color,’ but I love color — I can’t control myself. So I had to have my mums and my coleus and my dahlias. But Masashi encouraged that. ‘It’s alright,’ he said, ‘you’re not Japanese, you’re an American.’
“There’s an intuition that gardeners have about what form or color you want in a particular space,” she continues. “I’ve never been strict with the principles — I think you sense, well…we need something in this corner, an embracing a line of color to move your eye onward into the garden…and you do it.”
Many traditional precepts were incorporated, however, such as the subtle interplay of texture and plenty of “moss.” Actually, the groundcover is a combination of Reiter’s Thyme — an evergreen, hardy, weed-smothering mat — and sedum. “Right now, the garden isn’t shady enough for moss,” says Catharine, “but this is a good substitute. When you look at it from a distance, or squint your eyes, it works.”
The sensibility is further enhanced by an abundance of Japanese maples, one of Catharine’s passions, and the inclusion of metaphorical elements — rock formations in the customary Kyoto placement of vertical and recumbent postures, a central pine tree and a koi pond. “Our central pine tree is an umbrella pine, a Koyamaki,” Catharine points out. “It has a lovely, flat top and it’s always going to be fairly dwarfed.”The Koyamaki has been with the Browns for years and moved four times, traveling along with the family. “The last move,” Catharine continues, “was very tricky because the tree was really too big for an amateur to transplant. But Masashi taught me some Japanese techniques; I misted the canopy every night — he told me that was just as important as keeping the roots moist following replanting — and it made it.”
Since the property was essentially flat, the Browns brought in truckloads of soil to create undulation and then added the stream-fed koi pond. “I built the stream by digging a meandering trench that runs in front of the cottage,” Catharine explains. “The water line goes underground, emerges under the porch and splits into two bio-falls, which act as a filter for algae and pond waste.” The efficiency of this configuration is somewhat overshadowed by the beauty and melody of its cascading waters.
Emblazoned with painterly bursts of gold, bronze, red and orange, the resident koi share their domain with pickerel weed, parrot feather, houtonia, veronica, water mint and water bamboo, as well as several of Catharine’s floating glass orbs. Beside the pond, another of her creations — a massive sculptural hand, reminiscent of the Buddha’s, which gestures beneficently, a greenish-blue cast glass inset in its palm invoking the neighboring water.
The garden is discreetly inhabited by Catharine’s sculpture in glass, concrete and clay. “There are little pieces of glass everywhere you look; you’ll see them tucked in and around.” She has plans for more — pillar-like forms with thick glass membranes to reflect and refract light and add another dimension.
Gerry’s handwork is also omnipresent, in the form of the thin slat fences and elegant torii gates that define the property and create distinct areas within it. The interaction between the woodwork and the plantings is a beautiful example of the symbiotic relationship that the Browns enjoy.
“He got out some books from the library and started researching fence patterns,” Catharine recalls. “Finally he said, ‘This is my favorite pattern,’ and, as it turned out, it was mine too. It’s not always that easy, but oftentimes, it is. There’s this sense that we’re creating something together, and it does involve a certain amount of trust because he can’t always see, when I plant a particular persimmon tree, what my vision is — the canopy that’s going to be there — but he’s learned to trust me, and I’ve learned to honor his instincts too.”
Catharine tends her vision daily, with the regular assistance of Anthony Neal, gardener extraordinaire, who shares in the trimming and manicuring that the Japanese archetype requires. Applying her hand to the pruning of the trees and shrubs is a consummate pleasure. “I love pruning,” she says. “I’m passionate about it. I think I’d almost rather prune than plant, because it’s shaping a form — it’s bringing your art into collaboration with nature. It’s sculptural.”
“The garden is even beautiful in the winter. Because there are rocks and evergreens, there is a lot of form, and the shapes of the deciduous trees, which are more evident without their mantle of leaves, become more structural.”Whatever the season, the Browns find inspiration and sanctuary in this co-creation of theirs. “One of the reasons that gardeners create gardens is that they want to make a space where they can commune with nature and have the physical boundaries disappear,” Catharine observes. “Particularly with the Japanese aesthetic, the idea of creating a place of calmness, of moving away from the outside world and being in the stillness of the space is important.”
“The Japanese say that you can see your own true face in a garden,” she adds. “I think that’s at the heart of the gardener’s art — to see a deeper part of yourself and the connectedness of all of it. You are working in partnership with nature, there’s no doubt about it. Creating beauty is a raison d’être — creating it and recognizing it, everyday.”
