Welcome to the Treeherd's blog about Bonsai, art and culture

I intend to present a different slant on aspects of bonsai and allied subjects. The sort of stuff that you might not get elsewhere, including unusual trees, problems that most bonsaists need to confront, experiments, and some disasters, that might turn into learning experiences. No pontifications here. No gloating, some myth busting. And, no lying or tall tales
Showing posts with label root prune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label root prune. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Monsieur Le Bonsaiste Invents A New Oak


It was a lovely sunny morning in mid-September. We were driving down the left bank of the Vienne River towards its meeting with the Loire, where we intended to take a hike around the countryside near the picturesque village of Candes-St. Martin. I was in the passenger seat taking in the view of the scenery when I noticed a hand lettered sign on a plank fence surrounding a house as we went by. It said, simply, “Hosake Bonsaȉ”. I asked Sarah, my wife, who was driving, to stop and backup and suggested that we visit. So, as there were no cars on the road but ours, she safely did, and parked in the drive. Next to the sign was both a large gate and a large brass bell with a pull cord. I rang it and, in a few minutes a woman came out of the house and welcomed us into the yard. Later a man with a noble mustache came out of the house to show us his trees.

Chez Hosake Bonsaȉ
 There, on a few old benches, were potted bonsai; some decent Chinese Elms and some others that weren't very notable. All seemed pot bound and had grass and weeds growing from their soil. They probably hadn't been repotted in several years. But, then I spied something very unusual: two bonsai with miniature oak leaves. There was no doubting that they were oaks, but some of the leaves were less than an inch long and the longest was no more than 2 inches. One of them had a decent structure and trunk movement (although the roots extended to the edge of the pot in the mass of weeds). The other was pretty much a straight pipe, but had the same small leaves.

Bonsai labeled “Chêne microphylla” (For scale, the tag is about 3/4 inch wide). Note the roots extending to the edge of the pot.
The second “Chêne microphylla”.
Close-up of the small oak leaves in whorls.
The choke-worthy price tag.

I asked Monsieur what they were and he said that they were indeed Chêne and that he had collected them locally. There was a tag on one that said “Chêne microphylla” and €450, and the other was €430 . Choke, cough... On to Candes-St. Martin.

The next day dawned. Another lovely day saw us traveling a bit east from Chinon to visit the vineyards of Phillipe Alliet and Bernard Baudry. If there are better artists of the Cabernet Franc grape, please tell me about them. After a wonderful visit with M. Alliet and a taste through his range of current wines, we decided, as we had planned, to take a hike on a marked trail near M. Baudry's vineyards and chais. This was a countryside walk behind the village of Panzoult, and took us down lanes and through fields, up a hill, and into the woods. In the woods, we came on the trail, to a logging area, with piles of cut trees on each side. Then we cut through a field and crossed a little stream, and in that field was planted a row of small-leafed oak trees, very like the bonsai tree we'd seen at Hosake Bonsai! The last tree in the row had a sign posted. This was a huge clue in the hunt for the small-leafed oak microphylla.
 CHÊNE François Caille
Chêne pédonculé (Quercus robur)
 The leaves on these oaks varied immensely in size; some were about 4-6 inches, but a very large number of them were just as small as those on the potted oaks in M. Le Bonsaiste's yard. Some were smaller, about 1/2 inch. On some trees there was a mix of sizes, others were completely large or small. And they had the same growth habit: whorls of leaves at nodes. So, mystery solved: “Chêne microphylla” is actually Quercus robur, the English, or, if you prefer, the European Oak. Time to retreat to Bernard Baudry's Salon de Dégustation. There we received a warm welcome and fine hospitality and talked about many things with Bernard, including the oak he uses for his barrels, the species of which we are certain.
When back home in the States, I decided that I needed to try out this oak for myself, and confirm the identification. If correct, it might be possible to create a very nice and unusual (for the USA) bonsai. I know that Harry Harrington in England has made nice bonsai of English Oaks, even if the leaves seem a bit outsized from his pictures.

It was certain that the only place to obtain Quercus robur was at a a very large commercial nursery specializing in landscape trees, as it is not something available at a specialized bonsai nursery, for obvious reasons. The only one I could find was a mail order company that sold 1 gallon seedlings for a pittance. So, I ordered four, as that filled up the mailing container and minimized shipping costs (which was more than the trees).
Waiting for them to arrive, I did some research and found out that, indeed, there is a tree denominated Quercus microphylla, but it is a rare bush found only in northern Mexican deserts. Moreover, it has a lanceolate leaf.
About 2 weeks later, the English Oak saplings arrived. No thicker than two pencils, they, nonetheless, had a profusion of leaves and were about 2 feet tall. It was apparent at a glance that leaf size varied all over the lot. Some were 1 1/2 to 2 inches long, some were 7 inches long, and one tree had all large leaves, and another tree had all small leaves; the other 2 had a mix of sizes. However the identification of the oak was confirmed.
Quercus robur seedling with leaves from 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 inches.
A whorl of 2 inch leaves.


Taking Harry Harrington's advice to work them only when in leaf and, since they were, I took them out of their pots, cut off some ugly thick rooks and planted them in decent soil in my garden. I also did some rough trunk and branch pruning. Next Spring, the leaves emerged from all but one which had died in that extremely cold Winter (down to -17 deg. F.). Yet again, there was a mix of small and large leaves on each of the trees. They grew healthy in last year's growing season, and the three appear now, in March, to have healthy buds, as our Winter this time was spectacularly warm. The USDA even moved our hardiness zone to Zone 7a : 0 to 5 (F) . Two years ago, that was what New York City was.
So, what have I learned from all this? First, There is no such tree as “Chêne microphylla”. There may be a tree named “Chêne de petites feuilles” in popular parlance, but not a proper mixed French-Latin construct. Second, there are some French bonsaists that are very wily, and have a somewhat exaggerated notion of what their trees are worth. Third, it is possible to create an English Oak (Quercus robur) bonsai with very small leaves, indeed. Fourth, one of the ways to do that, is to choose a specimen that naturally has small leaves. Fifth, another way to do that, if we follow M. Le Bonsaiste's example, is to treat the tree fairly badly, that is, keep it pot bound and don't feed it much – after the trunk has reached the size you wish. (I don't know if defoliation is appropriate. Some years ago we had a Gypsy Moth infestation in CT and the caterpillars loved to eat oak leaves and many trees died from defoliation.) Last, roaming around in France and discovering things is great fun.




Thursday, February 16, 2012

My Jaboticaba selected for inclusion in the 3rd U.S. National Bonsai Exhibition

This morning I got a wonderful email from William Valavanis: my Jaboticaba bonsai has been selected for display, and judging, in the 3rd U.S. National Bonsai Exhibition this June 9-10 in Rochester, NY. Naturally, I am pleased, but I am also nervous. I have only displayed it, and some of my other bonsai, in club events. This is something altogether more serious. As I look at it, as it sits in my living room, all I can see is its defects.

My Jaboticaba in this year's Club Show
 Last Summer, I decided it was getting too large (about a yard tall), and did some very radical apical pruning and lowered the root pad by about a half inch. Maintaining a tree at its desired end state is more difficult for me than creating that end state. It also had a very rough Summer because of the horribly weird weather we have been having in CT the last few years. In July and August, the temperature rose to 100 degrees F (38C) in the shade, and the sun shown blisteringly hot. I moved this tree, and some others, into dappled shade and watered every day (even the foliage, which I usually don't do for fear of molds), but leaves still got burned. Some days I even moved it inside. I was forced to remove quite a few leaves. So, now, the apex is just growing back nicely and the partial defoliation caused some nice ramification, and new leaves are budding out all over the tree, but the older leaves look a bit leathery. I think that is because it is Winter and, even with a humidifier in the room, the air is rather dry for a tree that comes from Brazilian uplands.

Now that I have just told the Exhibition's judges all about my tree's fearful faults (in my own eyes), I have a serious job ahead of me: get that tree into fighting shape. The material is still there, but I must justify the Selection Committee's faith in me. It is only mid-Feb, so I am hopeful that I have enough time to help the Jaboticaba shine like a star. As, I turn my head to look at it this instant, it looks pretty damned good.

Monday, January 16, 2012

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.