Perfectly contained wilderness - Japanese irises in the Imperial Palace East Garden in Tokyo

Rolling fields of Japanese irises in full bloom - a lovely illusion of wilderness and a perfect contrast to the "formal" parts of the Imperial Palace East Garden.

 

Despite having walked around the Imperial Palace grounds on my previous trips to Tokyo, this was the first time that I actually entered the East Garden. I'm not quite sure why - but better late than never, I guess.

This 52 acre park is surrounded by deep moats, dramatic stone walls, and reached through several stone bridges and gates. It was built on grounds that belonged to the Edo Castle, the seat of the Tokugawa Shoguns that ruled Japan from 1603 to 1868. After that, the Meiji Restoration re-established the Imperial family's power, Edo was named Tokyo, and the Imperial family moved here from Kyoto. The palace has been rebuilt at least twice, first after a great fire in the late 19th century, and then due to destruction during the World War II. The East Garden forms its own area on the side of the actual palace complex, and is the only part of the Tokyo Imperial Palace grounds that is open to public.

 

 Seimon Ishibashi bridge leads to the main entrance to the palace (the entrance to the gardens available to public is on the east side of the palace grounds).

The huge moat remains from the Edo period, together with several beautiful guard towers.
 

 The monumental stone walls are so beautiful - I love the arched (do you call them that...?) corners, they are so typically Japanese in form.

 

The adjective most often used to describe these gardens seems to be "manicured" - with a hint of... I'm not quite sure what, arrogance maybe, or some kind of imagined superiority. I'm not sure why. I mean, what would you expect from a garden just outside the palace and residence of Emperor Akihito, the 125th emperor of his line? Not an avant garde patch with experimental plantings, but a garden that transmits the permanence and continuity of the imperial office and the Japanese culture through their traditional garden design - definitely not one that is just "accidentally there".

 

The wilder parts of the gardens, closer to the outer edge, with meadows filled with Japanese irises under cherries, most of which had already finished flowering.

 Iris japonica, such a perfect plant for the Emperor's gardens.

The irises and cherries were nearly done with their blooming; kerrias, azaleas and wisterias were just beginning theirs.

A little stream under Japanese maples just furling out their leaves, together with grasses and variegated bamboos...

 One more picture of the Japanese irises... I loved the wild and free feeling of some parts of the gardens.

 

Anyway. The walls and moats form a strong, impressive frame to the garden as you enter the garden  - they can't be seen from inside, but the impression stays in your mind. In the actual garden, paths linger around beds of bearded irises form like rivers through the garden; hedges of azaleas and rhododendrons are closely trimmed into sculptural forms; behind ponds, they disappear into a wilderness of rolling fields filled with Japanese irises. The whole effect is based on the contrast of the contained and the wild. All carefully planned, executed and maintained, of course - but then, what else would you expect of a garden of this rank?

 

Only very few cherries were still in flower here, but the buds of the wisteria (see pergola in the middle of the picture) were swelling, and will be gorgeous just in a couple of weeks.

 

 

A tiny waterfall run down into from the wilder parts of the garden into the pond below.

Yet another angle on the pergola - several artistically pruned pines were part of the gardens.

 

The lovely Suwa no chaya tea house, also from the Edo period, is part of the gardens - unfortunately (and understandably...), no tea was served here to the strolling visitors.  

White borscht at Tage Andersen's Gunillaberg

The Gunillaberg estate was built in the late 17th century by Johan Printz, who named the manor house after his mother Gunilla. He went on to become the third governor of New Sweden, the Swedish colony in that is now the state of Delaware in the USA.

 

While driving back to Stockholm from the west coast of Sweden, I realized that we'd be passing Tage Andersen's Gunillaberg in Bottnaryd, just before the city of Jönköping. Despite the long drive home, we decided to drop by to see if we could get an early lunch at Tage's café, and of course, to see his creations "live" for the first time.

 

Now, there can't be many "garden people" in Sweden who don't know about Tage and his work, but for those who do not, he is a real renaissance man form Denmark. Originally trained as a pastry chef, he has diversified his artistic portfolio to include flower arrangements, furniture, sculpture and other art installations. He's even published several books about his work and thoughts, and is the proprietor of a floral boutique with a museum in Copenhagen. In Sweden, he managed the well-known gardens by Rudolph Abelin at Norrviken in Båstad for a couple of years.

 

Tage Andersen bought Gunillaberg in 2008, and has since transformed this late 17th century manor and its gardens into a distinctively Tage-style gesamtkunstwerk. Despite being a Renaissance man in sprit, Baroque is definitely more his style - down to the artistic, old-fashioned clothes he carries (of course I shouldn't comment on looks, but he looks a little like a mixture of Rembrandt and a mystical spirit from the forests - in the most positive way). And his artworks and installations - dramatic, twisted, voluptuous, always with a personal touch to them. While strolling through the house and gardens, it felt like everything there was touched by a magic wand, and turned into something that was "more" than it should have been - a bit magical, and definitely Tage-like. One of a kind, he really is.

 

While I really wanted to have a chat with Tage, he seemed a little bit stressed and was really busy with serving lunch to the unexpectedly many guests - something that the very friendly young lady at the café mentioned while doing exactly the same. So we ate our delicious white borscht-like soups and finished with coffees and Tage's specialty, "karamelkrans" (caramel covered flaky round pastry - extremely sweet and tasty), completely happy with having just added another 1.5 hours to our already long journey back to Stockholm.  

 

One of the outbuildings, now with a shop that sells a small selection of Tage's artwork and books.

Ceramics with forms reminding of flower bulbs, surrounded by large flower containers on rusty platforms - Tage often uses rusty steel as material in his works.

Large containers with Agapanthus and Camellias on the backside of the manor house.

 Tage arranges art exhibitions inside the house - and even the floor is painted in a voluptuous pattern, like Baroque gone crazy... (while it still manages to be in harmony with its surroundings!).

A huge chess set placed on ceramic tiles...

The focal point of the front garden is an art installation in rusted steel (by Tage); it is sitting in a small, round pool surrounded by flower meadow - a lovely contrast, and quite unconventional for a formal Baroque garden....  

A fanciful bosquet made of rusty steel and covered with passifloras - there are two of them, the other can be seen behind the square pool. They magically transport you to the gardens of Renaissance and Baroque, while still being surrounded by the dark Swedish forests.

 

A lovely passiflora variety - I have no idea which one. Purple seemed to be another favorite of Tage's...

Pathways with artwork - and even the larches looked like they could come alive in the dusk of Swedish summer nights.

A large green house is used for concerts.

The scene inside the green house - what a lovely experience it would be to come here for a concert... Maybe next summer.

 Even the chicken coops were fancifully artistic - and very rusty.

 

 And one last wink before leaving - even the entrance is a lovely combination of strictly formal and wonderfully twisted.

 

To see more of Tage's wonderful flower arrangements and artwork, look at the "Gallery" pages on his website (which also contains opening times and a map for finding Gunillaberg): http://www.tage-andersen.com/index.html 

Gunnebo, again

The little Gunnebo Castle called, again - its powers of seduction (not least in form of delicious lunches served in the kitchen garden....) are still quite potent, it seems.

 

As I've written earlier, the little castle of Gunnebo together with its gardens really is a love story gone awfully wrong. Like a greedy mistress, it seduced and held its masters captured until all their means were exhausted, eventually driving them to bankruptcy and destitution. The story is touching - who doesn't love a dose of true madness? - and the buildings and gardens are a perfect example of late 18th century architecture inspired  the Palladian villas of Italy and gardens of Louis XIV in France. A real pearl, and an escapist dream inspired by the southern latitudes of Europe, landed amongst the northern forests and shores of Sweden.

 

For the whole tragic story of Gunnebo, see my earlier post here.

 

An 18th century drawing of Gunnebo; the orangerie on the right is under reconstruction for the moment; it will probably be completed next year.

 

 Almost the same view today, only from another angle...

 

 

Sculptures still surround the pool seen in the pictures above.

Cows lazily grazing just south from the fountain pool.

Walking back on the side of the terraces of the formal gardens...

An unusual view towards the building from a little hill by the "castle" - that really is too small to be called so.

The kitchen gardens (in opposite direction from the hill where I took the previous photo).

I do love the kitchen gardens - so beautifully composed.

The handsome orangerie/green house again... I wrote about it even in my earlier Gunnebo post.

Just beautiful, couldn't help taking loads of pictures...

"Advanced horticultural science" - they still train the apples on trellises attached to the walls of the kitchen garden. Look at all the pears!

And back to the castle - it was lovely to stand in the shade under the main terrace (which you can see from the garden in the first picture).   

 

 

And a final view from the terrace, with the fountain forming the focus of the central axis - Gunnebo is such a delightful little example of 17th/18th century European garden design, in the middle of the forests of southern Sweden.

Flower fields at Nyckelviken

The mid-18th century gazebo at Nyckelviken would be the perfect place for romantic meetings - I'm sure that the young members of the owning families sneaked out here for little tête-à-têtes every now and then...

Nyckelviken is one of my favorites, a small 18th century manor house just 10 minutes outside the city center (yes, despite trying to be so cool, Stockholm is that small). Arriving through the gravel drive through the forest, and walking down the long alley flanked by old lindens transfers you back in time to the countryside, despite being so near to the bustle of the modern world.

 

First glimpse of the vegetable gardens from the linden alley.

The manor house, now serving as a café and a restaurant...

The cute little billiard wing, which was also used for dinner dances. Please, can I be "transferred" to a 18th century dance party here, just for once?

 

Stora Nyckelviken, the yellow-painted main house, was built by Swedish East India Company director Herman Peterson around 1746, and has since then been owned by many nobilities and well-known personalities of the Swedish history. The original form of the building, including the color that was supposed to imitate sandstone from Italy, is still beautifully preserved, even if it is now somewhat "degraded" and serves as a café and a restaurant. There are two additional, red-painted wings, a billiard wing (also used for dinner dances in the olden days), a beautiful gazebo and several barns together with other utility buildings, some of which now house rabbits, chicken, pigs, ponies and other cute animals for kids to pet. In summer, the cliffs by the sea are excellent for swimming, and in wintertime, the long hills leading to the cliffs by the sea are perfect for sledding. There are even outdoor fire pits and sitting places where everyone can barbeque their home-brought sausages. Not surprisingly, Nyckelviken is popular among families living in the area, including mine; I have many fond memories of my girls with red cheeks and frozen little fingers, waiting impatiently for their hotdogs and hot cordial after a couple of hours in the snow.

 

One of the small, red-painted wings, now a tiny local museum...

 The central axis leading via the gardens from the manor to the gazebo; it is so good to see that the baroque style and elements have been preserved even when the garden styles have changed during the centuries.

 Flower fields in the old vegetable gardens; only part of them now grow edibles.

 

The old gardens still have their central baroque axis leading from the manor to the gazebo, and old lilac hedges separate the wings and the "garden proper" from the vegetable gardens. The many owners of Nyckelviken used to grow vegetables for the household both for the manor and for their houses in the city, but today, the gardens are mainly for show and for testing different gardening practices and for education - some lucky local school kids get to help harvesting the produce in the autumn. And of course, as "fika"(having a coffee, preferable with a cinnamon bun) is somewhat of a national sport in Sweden, there is an excellent café that serves delicious concoctions - many of which are baked with the fruits an berries from the gardens - for the hungry wanderer. Absolutely lovely, and well worth a detour if you are in the area.

 

 Beans and peonies in the kitchen garden... 

 

 Rows and rows of flowers in the cutting garden...

  ...and a final picture from the cutting garden, with the unusual orangery (nearly no glass panes - what kind of orangery is that?) in the background.