Bold, bright and brilliant

WHEN IT COMES TO COLOUR IN THE GARDEN, GENTLE SHADES OF PINK AND PURPLE ARE FIRST CHOICE FOR MANY. BUT NOT FOR EVERYONE. A BLAZE OF ORANGE UNDER THE HOT SUN SETS A WHOLE DIFFERENT SCENE

Words: BURFORD HURRY

AS A CONFIRMED gardener, I arrived in the Algarve from South Africa in 1986 to ironically begin a new life in a two-bedroomed apartment with a large terrace in Loulé. I arrived – as gardeners do – with a large paper packet of fresh pawpaw seeds, some bulbs, and a tiny hybrid Strelitzia reginae in a small plastic yoghurt cup. Undaunted, I believed I would grow everything I grew in South Africa: I had a lot to learn yet.

My first birthday present given to me by a close friend in Faro was a plant in a large pot that was not only gorgeous but also spot-on appropriate. She was a clivia (Clivia Miniata) with a flower head which was so bright it could have been forged of glowing orange coals, but instead was all petals and translucent beauty, perfectly set off by her proud, stiff, dark green shiny leaves. She was appropriate in more ways than one – not only was I familiar with her as a fellow native of South Africa, but also because orange just happens to be one of my favourite colours. It was love at first sight.

Why orange and not red? Orange for me is a colour of happiness. I know that it has some significance in Eastern religions and is associated with the robes dyed with saffron and turmeric of Buddhist priests. That may be, but I like to think I reached my love of orange independently.

But to return to my clivia. She is with me still. When we moved from a brand new apartment building to another apartment that we had bought and renovated in a centuries-old manor house with a quintal in the historic quarter of Loulé, she travelled with us. However, this time in a more elegant larger plastic container. Every spring she would delight us with her flowers.

A community thing

Then one March, the Catholic Sisters of the local matriz church approached me and asked me whether I would be prepared to have a series of three religious meetings in our apartment. I was astonished to say the least as neither Richard nor I had ever put a foot over the threshold of the church. Besides that, our kitchen/sitting room was tiny. Perfect. There were stairs. No problem. So the event took place. Every evening at least 20 people crammed into the kitchen and even spilled out onto the veranda. And the clivia tucked into a corner of the assembly put on a breathtaking nightly display with three magnificent crowns of orange. So much so that Madalena, a neighbour and a participant, begged for a plant.

Since then, every year when her clivia is in flower, Madalena calls me aside to give me her thanks. She in turn has divided up her clivia and given plants away. Now, I like to think that glorious glowing orange illuminates the lanes of the historic quarter of Loulé, bringing pleasure to those who live there.

Today, on the home front, I have my gorgeous girl in a cluster of other clivias in containers in the shade of the olive and carob trees. They all provide a sumptuously ethereal orange bank of colour every March.

The other South African ‘orange’ link is my strelitzia. As she grew, so did the size of her containers until eventually today she has her roots in the ground. Bred by a friend in Zimbabwe, she is a bolder, larger version of the usual S. reginae with the same strong lovely colours of orange and dark blue. She also often produces twin beaks of elegant flowers borne on one stalk. Those beaks resonate with the name of crane flower that she is often called. I immediately think of the graceful grey crowned cranes of the Transkei, dancing on an Indian Ocean beach with their shimmering golden crowns and the simple slash of clear orange on their wings.

An orange flowering South African shrub that I should have but don’t yet, is Leonotis leonurus. She has thin tall reedy stems of dark lance-shaped green leaves with whorls of fresh tubular orange flowers up each stem. She likes full sun, some water and if well-groomed is always a cheerful occasional addition to any herbaceous border.

Full-on colour

While on the topic of plants from South Africa, I cannot forget my two favourite succulents. First the orange ice plant Lampranthus aurantiacus with its dazzling satiny petals and her dark green, fat, needle-like leaves. She provides a perfect splash of sparkling spring colour as she flows between the rocks in a garden. Easy to grow from woody cutting, she flourishes in soils with a sandy or rocky texture but will grow in almost any well drained soil type, tolerating exposure to salt and thriving in coastal conditions. My other favourite is the Aloe striata, which is an aloe with smooth thornless lucious jade green leaves, her orange pink flowers – usually described as coral red –appear during the winter months in tall flat-topped parasols of colour. A. striata grows in a wide variety of climatic conditions provided she is planted in a well-drained situation in full sun, and not over-watered. She can withstand extreme frost and prolonged drought.

If you are looking for something even bolder and brighter but equally water wise then think no further than Streptosolen jamesonii. I had long been familiar with this shrub but I hadn’t realised her full potential until I saw her thriving on a vast south facing sloping field in Gorjões – she had been grown together with plants almost exclusively from the nursery of Olivier Filippi in Mèze, France. Her low full rounded body of symmetrical bright orange and yellow flowers in a field of hazy mediterranean greys, soft pinks and shades of blue came almost as a shock. Think palette- knife applications of acrylic colour rather than delicate watercolour brush strokes, she definitely makes a strong floral statement. She also makes a very strong water-wise statement as like the other plants in this field she grows only on rain water. There is an orange bougainvillea too that I am very fond of. I have planted her so that she spills down and cascades over a wall onto the middle terrace to kiss the stiff bronzy petals of a cymbidium orchid. Soft orange against a stone wall in a hot summer sun and only a few metres away from where my resident bats have found a safe crevice in which to sleep during the day.

And finally, during the summer my one and only orange tree scatters a foliage space in the viewing garden with ripe oranges when, earlier in the year, she filled the entire garden with her perfume just when my clivias and strelitzia were taking their floral bow. Her perfume always reminds me how much poorer I would be without my glowing splashes of heavenly orange.

PlanZAfrica is a valuable and practical source of information on the growing of South Africian plants. The nursery and garden of Olivier Filippi in Mèze is one of the ex-libris of dry gardening. It is situated along the coast, a little way from Montpelier in France and offers more than 1,000 species of Mediterranean plants for sale.

Previous page: Clivia. This page above: leonotis leonurus; left: Strelitzia

EDUCATED at the University of Seville, after his graduation Pedro Rodriguez

Garrido often found himself drawn to cities, attracted by their technology, diversity, vibrancy and complex infrastructures.

Inspired by urban artists such as Edward Hopper and Richard Estes, when he visited the USA it was the landscapes of New York that especially appealed. Often working from the top of tall buildings, he captures the continuous motion of busy highways, painting realistic depictions of this living, breathing city. So convincing are his paintings that some critics claim you can hear the traffic and the rhythms of pedestrians’ footsteps, feel the wind as it passes by and smell the smoke and asphalt! These comments require an imagination that is more vivid than my own, nevertheless it is undeniable that he observes and recreates perfect perspective.

The challenge of giving an illusion of depth and distance is an essential component; a problem that was encountered by Leonardo Da Vinci. He invented a machine called a perspectograph, a pane of glass in a frame that contained a small viewing slot. Placed in front of the scene, Leonardo would look through the slot with one eye and sketch the outline onto the pane of glass. This would then be the initial sketch for the painting. German artist, Albrecht Durer, published illustrations of similar perspective machines encouraging other artists to make

Your very favourite city and what makes it special?

Perhaps New York, although after my last trip to Seoul, to present my first solo show in South Korea, I have been fascinated by its great avenues and buildings.

Influences? The urban landscape of Manhattan has a special charm, the atmosphere of the city, the grey of the streets, how the light falls through the buildings, the people walking, the colours of Times one. Vincent van Gogh had a perspective frame with grid lines and adjustable legs that he praised for being quick and easy to use. Writing to his brother he stated, “It (the perspective frame) enables one to draw quick as lightning – and, once the drawing is done, to paint quick as lightning too.”

Establishing the perspective of a panoramic view onto a flat plane is Garrido’s starting point, then building up the picture with layer upon layer of oil paint. Often he will drag quite dry paint across the surface, which creates a textured finish. His palette uses cool, soft tones producing a strange quality of moisture clinging to the air while dark skies and grey tarmac offer contrast. A few well chosen marks translate into a passing car, touches of colour hint at traffic lights and sweeping brushstrokes reflect headlights on a wet road. The finished paintings drip with atmosphere.

It will come as no surprise to learn that Garrido’s paintings have been exhibited in many cities including Barcelona, Bath, Brussels, Córdoba, Goteborg, Granada, Hong Kong, Lisbon, London, Madrid, Marbella, Miami, Moscow, Seoul, Stockholm, St. Petersburg and Valencia as well as Seville, where he was trained and Huelva, where he was born.

Currently his paintings are displayed at Galeria Côrte-Real on the outskirts of the protected village of Paderne. The short journey from the EN125 to Paderne follows a route through some charming Algarve countryside.

Square… large number of stimuli that have made it the most represented city in my pieces.

Do you photograph scenes first? I usually capture images and from there I work with absolute freedom to interpret that reality, without sticking too closely to the image and avoiding a mimetic representation.

Your favourite sky, and time of day Normally sunset and nightfall, where forms are lost and light and colour take centrestage.

Huelva today? Huelva has been transformed in recent years into a modern city. It’s a good place to live, with enormous resources, beach, gastronomy, mountains, cultural events and great potential to be exploited.

Your preferred medium? Oil on canvas, although I also work on other supports such as wood and paper, with mixed techniques.

HOME PLUS