We have walked ourselves to a standstill in Gloucester's museums (of which more anon) so with an hour or two to go before supper, there is time to tell you about another garden, before I forget the details and they all merge into a blur.
Hidcote Manor The late Derek Jarman and his friends disliked Hidcote, mocking it as Hideouscote. Well, it is not at all like Jarman's marvellous organic creation at Dungeness, and I can see that it would not be to everybody's taste. Indeed, the Systems Administrator didn't take to it when we visited several years ago, finding the garden rooms near the house too small, fussy and claustrophobic. But we made the error of driving there and back in a day, which might have coloured the SA's judgement, and our visit did fall just before the National Trust's multi-million pound revamp, commissioned because they felt the garden was becoming tired. It is one of the most famous English gardens of the last century, and has been influential in subsequent garden design (along with Sissinghurst) and I wanted to see it again. Plus, it opened on Sunday mornings, fitting in with something else nearby that I very much wanted to visit and which I would only get to see if I went on Sunday afternoon. Of such logistical banalities are garden visiting priorities partly made.
Near the house Hidcote is a garden of rooms, and the SA did not like them any better this time than last, while having to admit that the planting had improved a lot. This is the classic image of Hidcote, with its clipped hedges, garden pavilions, and packed borders. East Ruston Old Vicarage does not so much nod to it as fling its arms around Hidcote's neck and give it a big sloppy kiss on both cheeks. Most of the garden by area is more relaxed and informal in the small scale twentieth century landscape tradition, and the SA liked that much better, even though by now most of the floral interest was confined to the formal areas by the house, where skilful use of annuals and tender perennials was keeping things going to a remarkable degree. Dahlias, salvias and cosmos are all friends of the September gardener.
I found Hidcote rather fun. I liked the profusion of late flowers, the use of pots, and the plant house. I could happily have spent a long time sitting in the plant house, and even the SA mellowed enough to express enthusiasm for the view of tall growing tagetes. But I didn't love it. It's not Hidcote's fault, but it is being managed as a major visitor attraction. Numbering for the tables in the cafe runs to over a hundred. Visitors are skilfully managed, and by dint of arriving soon after opening and holding off on taking a coffee break until we'd finished touring the garden we got a fair look at it without having to share the space and the views with too many other people, but it doesn't have that indefinable magic of some gardens. There again, if Hidcote were in private hands it would have to belong to somebody as rich as Croesus to bring the resources to bear upon it that the National Trust can, and it's unlikely they'd invite me for a solo viewing. A tip to the National Trust: find a way of muffling the noise of the fountain pump, which is obtrusively loud. I was relieved to see that the National Trust hadn't nearly finishing cutting their formal hedges, since I certainly haven't finished mine.
The best came afterwards, but that is a story for another day. To be continued.
Addendum I have a second gripe against the National Trust, which is that they were using the garden to house a temporary sculpture exhibition. Problems being that I didn't like most of the sculptures (a strictly personal view, I admit) but also that they weren't anything to do with the garden. People have different ideas about outdoor sculpture. You won't find any at the Chatto Gardens, and Christopher Lloyd mostly loathed it. I like it, but I like objects to have been designed or at least chosen with that place in mind, set within a design that needs a focal point in that position. Dumping down a random collection of metallic flower heads, seated children, sleeping cats, lizards, dinosaurs and goodness knows what doesn't work. If you have got to put temporary sculptures in a garden like Hidcote (and I don't see that you have) then at least choose the biggest, blankest, greenest space that you can find and use it as a gallery. Don't litter them randomly throughout the whole garden.
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