"The Treeherd" Why?

Since I posted an explanation of what "Naturalistic Bonsai" meant to me, so you could understand where I am coming from, I thought I should also explain my choice of alias: "The Treeherd". It has become pretty clear to me that we do not actually create a tree. The tree is already there, it has already been created, and what we do is tend it to bring out its best, according to our lights. We shelter it in Winter, shape (similar to shear if it were a sheep, but I hope that none of us actually shears a tree, and thinks that it is a good idea) in the Spring and Summer. We feed it water and the proper amount of sunshine regularly, and add vitamin-like nutrients to its feed when appropriate. We protect it from pests and diseases. We provide it with an environment (for its roots, a pot), for the tree as a whole, an attractive stand or bench. If this sounds like "Horticulture" only to you, then so be it. But to me there is an Art to being a Treeherd, just as there is an Art to raising a prize heifer that wins a Blue Ribbon. Besides, there was a Bonsai Wise Man who wrote (approximately), "Bonsai is 90% Horticulture and 10% Art. I am just adding the notion that Horticulture is an Art, too.

"I don't design bonsai, I design trees." - Walter Pall

Just a quick note: I love Walter Pall's comment (actually, I think it is his sig):

"I don't design bonsai, I design trees."
              - Walter Pall

That's pretty much what I try to do. However, in a French forum, he wrote: "It is a general misconception to think that all i (sic) do is 'naturalistic'. in fact probably more then two thirds or more of my work is not naturalistic at all. It depends on when I started the tree, whether I got it already started in another style and then whether the material that I work with has talent for a certain style. It is not a good idea to only follow one single style in my opinion."

It is pretty clear that with his experience and talent he can do any damned thing he cares to and it will still come out interesting. Especially since he has 1000+ trees (by his own approximate count) at any one time. With 1000 plants to work with, you get 1000 or more possibilities. 

BTW, that French forum was arguing about such deep design issues and tricky fertilizing processes, that it sounded very much like a discussion of how many angels could fit on the end of an apical twig.

New Haven Bonsai Society's 2011 Show Video

I thought you might get a kick out of  seeing our New Haven Bonsai Society's 2011 Show. It is in 1080p (HD) so you can see every little twig. I also made it open in a new window rather than embedding it, so you wouldn't feel captive. What the Heck...15 minutes of tree porn with only ambient sounds: no Rap or Beethoven's 9th.

Video: click to view

Naturalistic Bonsai: My definition

 Naturalistic Bonsai

Since my blog has, as part of its title "Naturalistic Bonsai", I'll try to explain to you what that means to me. I was first stimulated to go in this direction by reading the late Dave Joyce's book "The Art of Natural Bonsai".  In it, he gives a definition of natural bonsai design. Many bonsaists follow this path instinctively, but it is worth it to be clear about one's goals. Her it is:

"A natural bonsai has no man-made elements to jar the design, such as an ugly chopped trunk, branches or stumps, and no wire marks or sudden big changes in taper, texture or refinement. The trunk and major branches in particular will have a pleasing taper and shape. It does not have long straight, uninteresting branches or trunk. Rather, it has interesting curves or direction changes, It does not possess unconvincing areas of dead wood or overly large leaves or flowers. It is three dimensional, containing many areas of interest and viewing angles. Its treelike shape is pleasing, evoking images of trees in nature and allowing you to cross that tree/bonsai line."

That last sentence is most salient, I think. There are no better examples of naturalistic bonsai than those in Peter Adams' book "Bonsai with Japanese maples" and he continues to be an advocate, with delicate prodding in print and in person. I'll qualify that: sometimes not so delicate. I took a workshop with him a few years ago, and, after he had spent a little time with me, to get me to understand how to work a particular tree, he went on to the next person who had a particularly rare (in these parts) French pine cultivar. He said, and this is exactly what he said: "Nice tree. The only problem with it is that you have turned it into a bonsai." We all knew what he  meant - the tree was spit-shined  with almost mechanically perfect finished leaf pads. Not how a tree grows in nature at all. In the Jan/Feb issue of Bonsai Focus magazine, he starts his column on suggestions for a tree's design: "An interesting  tree with a very natural trunk form typical of the Scots Pine. The challenge here is to maintain the character and feeling of this tree and not to 'bonsai' it out of all recognition." Even John Naka, whose books are the epitome of bonsai rules, has sections that he calls "Hints from Nature" and he bases his design on those hints.

So, I know all the rules, by heart actually, but mostly I don't follow them. I always try to discern what the tree would want to be if it weren't in a pot, but out in a field or forest.

A Cork Bark Elm In a Walsall pot (by Mark Jones) that started out as bush in a 7 gallon plastic pot. This is what that bush wanted to be, even with bar branches. (It has been considerably refined since this picture was taken and I'll spend some time on it in a Spring post.)

Korean Hornbeam on a stand I designed

My Double Trunk Korean Hornbeam on a stand I designed.

This tree was a disaster when I got it at a bonsai nursery about 6 or 7 years ago. Actually, my wife found it on the edge of the property roasting in the August sun. All the leaves on the daughter trunk were burned to a crisp. Moreover, it had air roots, if you can believe it. That is, those roots that now form a fine nebari were much higher and you could see through them - as if the tree were on a tripod. It was a consignment, so I guess somebody wasn't too interested in it. The first thing I did, after driving it home, was get it into the shade and watered, and watered regularly, until the weather cooled. Then an emergency repot (of course it was pot bound) and severe root prune to bring the nebari back down to Earth. Most importantly, I made sure there was space for the tiny feeder roots to drink and grow. In addition to making the root pad about 1.5 inches thick, I cut scallops around the pad's edges for space. I dusted the entire root mass with hormone and replaced what passed for soil with my own mix, which, by some accident, corresponds approximately to both Walter Pall's and Julian Adams' soil preferences: 80% Turface (or equivalent), 15% milled sphagnum moss (which I create by rubbing the strands against a wire soil sizing screen over a pail) and about 5% rotted cedar bark. The sphagnum moss has antibacterial properties and has long been used as a wound dressing in the terrible wars we seem to have too often - before antibiotics were discovered. The roots certainly needed that help, along with the hormone. (Naturally, everyone has their own fave soil; I just wanted to level with you about what I did. Use what works for you.) I never thought I could get away with this sort of thing in late August (late March is my usual repot time), but it worked.