In My Garden: Jeanne Farewell

Jeanne Farewell, Brewster, NY
Open Days Host: Rumford Hall

Jeanne Farewell is a pianist who gives lecture-recitals on music and its association with art and literature, and a writer whose published work includes essays, stories, novels, and book reviews. She has also cultivated an interest in art and art history and her paintings have been presented in shows. Such an engagement in the arts has informed her approach to the design of her garden, with elements of harmony, color theory, rhythmic tread, perspective, pacing, and even musical “rests” considered. A study of Chinese monumental landscape painting has created a compulsion to read the negative space of a garden as well as the areas that draw the eye.

A longtime member of the UK’s National Trust, Jeanne visits English gardens whenever possible and, when not possible, reads about them. She has aspired to integrate the formal elements of the English garden with the wild and craggy property in the foothills of the Appalachians that is her home. Jeanne shared her garden, Rumford Hall, on Putnam County Open Day on Saturday, August 21.

Read Jeanne's non-fiction work, "Ruins," recently published on the Flashes of Brilliance blog (April 7, 2021).


In My Garden, November 9, 2021



Fall descends on Jeanne's garden, where pumpkins in pastel hues are a striking treat. "I’m tickled pink at our pink pumpkins," she shares.



"A small millstone serves as a mushroom cap on a log in front of the ruins (above, left). We just installed stone steps (above, right) leading to “Base Camp” and the trails in the hills. The plan is to establish a garden of native woodland wildflowers within the camp’s stone walls."



The carpet of red reminds Jeanne of Christopher Morley’s poem “Autumn Colors”:

The chestnut trees turned yellow,
The oak like sherry browned,
The fir, the stubborn fellow,
Stayed green the whole year round.


But O the bonny maple
How richly he does shine!
He glows against the sunset
Like ruddy old port wine.



Above: "Our 'gardener' Paxton surveys his work," says Jeanne. "It’s time to put away the spade for the winter."


In My Garden, October 12, 2021



Fall colors are descending on Jeanne's garden. Above, left: "The color of the month is coral, seen here in the cotoneaster." The color scheme continues, above, right: "We have installed gates, doors, and leafy corridors to spark curiosity and invite exploration. The red door in the fernery draws the eye. The cloche protected our miniature cauliflower from the rabbits (below), although I would not have missed the two crudités that this petite cruciferous plant produced."


 In My Garden, September 14, 2021



In Jeanne's garden, the boxwood yard is bursting with blooms (above, left). "The native horsetail (Equisetum) has a reputation for trotting over everything in its path, so I have confined it to a pot," says Jeanne (above, right).



"My potting shed (above) includes a plaque of John Tradescant (1608-1662), gardener to Charles ll and famous for bringing plants to England. The genus Tradescantia, commonly called spiderwort, is named after him."



"Our vernal pond (above, left) has reappeared due to the recent heavy rains," says Jeanne. "Nature has managed this habitat well, with plants that tolerate both deluge and drought." Of her hillside urns, Jeanne tells us that "Fallen petals may look untidy, but a bit of wildness adds a certain exuberance."


In My Garden, August 17, 2021



"The orchard is plump with peaches that look good enough to eat—but I am loathe to dismantle this feast for the eyes," says Jeanne. "Nature is a remarkable colorist: the peaches have just the right shading and the perfect blush."



"Midas coveted gold, but I prefer viburnum berries—with their glittering, vibrant jewel tones (above)." The old stone table, below, left, is engraved with the year in which Jeanne's house was built: 1879. "I designed the gardens to harmonize with the Arts & Crafts spirit of the architecture," she says. "The property is home to various forms of wildlife, including a 'woolly mammoth' named Ebenezer (below, right). He likes to dig holes in the garden and sleep in them. I had to curb his archaeological instincts by putting large stones in strategic places."


In My Garden, July 20, 2021

Above, left: "I feel as if I’m in some magical land or a fairy tale," says Jeanne, "whenever I pass by the gigantic globe alliums." Middle: "The cranesbill geraniums with their exquisitely etched lines drink in the morning sun." Right: "Birds can be the most joyous elements of the garden. This little fledgling, still sporting its downy feathers, sat on the branch near me for quite a while as if trying to figure out what was going on in the world before taking the plunge."



"The hydrangeas have bloomed at the same time as the germander (Teucrium chamadrys). Germander, often used in Elizabethan knot gardens, makes a nice little hedge with scalloped leaves, but likes to spill over and travel, which I don’t mind; I just move the bustling ones to another part of the garden."



"The Petite Plum ninebark hedge brings a certain glamor when its wine-dark leaves are spangled with flowers. This glittering sable shrub seems dressed for nightlife."


In My Garden, June 22, 2021



"Ubiquitous in spite of the deer who adore them, rhododendrons earn their keep by sheer opulence," says Jeanne. We agree wholeheartedly! "I am rethinking the courtyard (below). We need more shade, which means planting trees and shrubs in containers, since the ground is stone. The Red Dragon Contorted Filbert strikes a suitably dark note on a dismal day."

"We have put out the welcome mat for the bees by installing a bee house and planting bee balm and other pollinator plants. There is a lot of buzz in the bee community about this!"

"The spring rains produced a riot of roses. Drift roses work for me, as they require very little coddling."


In My Garden, May 25, 2021



"The Yellow Bank (above), with its warm tones, is leafing out," says Jeanne. "The ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) alone provides a palette of copper, ginger, red, and yellow-green. And before it faded to orange, the spirea was blushing crimson. The moisture of the mist, wrinkled rocks, avian arias, and a profusion of blooms make me cherish a stroll along the carriage path on a spring morning (below)."



"The arbor (below) is adorned by little but the sky; I can see why Dutch Renaissance landscape artists gave two-thirds of their paintings to the sky. The image prompts a consideration of silhouette in the garden.



Speaking of silhouette, I like the ruins (below) best with their stark severity when the trees are bereft of leaves, but I do look forward to seeing how nature will cloak this gloomy structure in green," Jeanne tells us.

J.farewellweb
Jeanne Farewell