Who Is This Famous Musician/Gardener?

“It’s really quite simple. I don’t want to be in the business full-time, because I’m a gardener. I plant flowers and watch them grow. I don’t go out to clubs and partying. I stay at home and watch the river flow.”

Want to take a guess at who said this? I’ll give you a couple of hints.

• This person was a musician (a really famous musician) - one who obviously loved gardening.
• This person is deceased (circa 2001).
• This person left a legacy of songs, some of which are timeless.

If I didn’t know the correct answer, I’d probably start with famous female stars as, sadly and inaccurately, passionate gardeners are often stereotyped as of the feminine gender. Singers like Kate Smith, Ella Fitzgerald and Judy Garland, even Doris Day, come to mind. Can’t you just see them out in the sun with really glam gardening hats? (I know. I’m showing my age).

So OK. . . another hint: It’s a he.

Hmmm. . . Those old Italian boys all loved gardening. Dean Martin? Frank Sinatra? Tony Bennet? Maybe even Bobby Darrin. Or Fabian? Or Frankie Avalon gardening with Annette Funicello? Can you dig it?

Incorrect on all guesses. Would you believe George Harrison — one of those mop-topped, flip-talking Liverpool darlings who took America by storm when The Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show on three consecutive Sundays in February of 1964? Later that year, in August, I (along with a group of my girlfriends) had the incredibly exciting experience of watching The Beatles perform live at Cincinnati Gardens. I was 17, headed into my senior year of high school. The tickets were pricey — $5! I saved money from my job at Putt-Putt Golf course to purchase that baby. That was almost a full day’s wage back in the day. But the Beatles were definitely worth it as I still have bragging rights 48 years later.

George Harrison

But about George, “the quiet Beatle,” as he was known, who suffered a bout of depression after the Beatles broke up. . . In an effort to renew his spirit, he turned to gardening in 1970 when he purchased a rundown estate called Friar Park. Perhaps he knew something about the antidepressant qualities of soil (see archived blog, Go Play in the Dirt). In his 1980 autobiography, I, Me, Mine, which he dedicated to “gardeners everywhere,” he shares that he was passionate about gardening. He loved to put aside all concerns and frustrations and get his hands dirty as often as possible.

So what did a 26-year-old former Beatle, raised in the streets of Liverpool, know about trees, shrubs and flowers? Was this passion of his simply innate, part of his nature? It’s been speculated that the gardens of India spoke to his soul when he was there seeking spiritual enlightenment; but that’s just a theory.

Interestingly, until his son Dhani was seven, he thought his dad was a gardener. He eventually learned of his father’s fame from the kids at school.

World Choir Games

It seems fitting to be honoring the memory of a world-renowned musician as Greater Cincinnati heads into the World Choir Games. From July 4 — 24, thousands of the world’s best singers will be here to make joyful noises, share their culture and soak up good old American hospitality. More than 360 choirs from 48 countries are registered to compete in this world-wide event which is the Olympics of Choral Music. Held every two years, the World Choir Games has chosen an American venue for the very first time. And how fortunate that they’re honoring our marvelous Cincinnati as the American city of choice. Previous games have been held in Austria, China, Germany and South Korea. The Games are the signature event of INTERKULTUR, a German-based organization that produces choral events all over the world.

Now as if this weren’t exciting enough (get ready. . . shameless plug coming. . .), my husband Walter and I are privileged to be part of the Epiphany United Methodist Church Voices in Praise Choir which competes on July 5; and our son Ken is a member of the Southern Gateway Chorus which has been invited to compete in the coveted “champions” category on July 12.

Additionally, our Epiphany United Methodist Church will stage a free Friendship Concert on Friday, July 6, at which we will welcome choirs from Africa and Thailand. More info at: 

epiphanyumc.org.

OK. Enough shameless plugs. For more information about the Games, check out www.2012worldchoirgames.com. If you haven’t already been following all the press this event is generating, you’ll be amazed at the lineup of talent and dozens of concerts and events, many of them free of charge.

Bloomin’ musical instruments

While there are no concerts scheduled at the Loveland Greenhouse, those creative gardening experts out there are honoring music in their own way with a display of adorable musical instruments overflowing with vibrant color and foliage — yet another example of the proverbial “thinking outside the box” (or flower pot, as it were.)

A Living Instrument at the Loveland Greenhouse

It’s worth a visit to the Greenhouse to view these magical ‘living’ instruments. Perhaps you have an old sax or trumpet stored away (or other kooky items that would come to life in new ways with some plantings). As always, the talented ladies of the Greenhouse can provide lots of engaging ideas. Can you dig it?

JUST GO PLAY IN THE DIRT - Feeling a Bit Depressed?

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.”

—Anne Frank (1929-1945)

These soul-moving words are even more poignant when we consider that the high-spirited Anne Frank spent her early teen years hiding from the Nazis. She, her family and her father Otto’s business partner and family lived in cramped, makeshift quarters in an empty space at the back of Otto Frank’s company building in the Netherlands. Otto’s employees provided food and information about the outside world during their hiding.

Anne Frank

These families spent two years without ever once stepping outside the dank, dark, sequestered portion of the building. Their only touch with nature was thanks to an attic window through which they could view the sky and a nearby chestnut tree. A lover of the outdoors, Anne nurtured herself by looking out at the heavens and observing the changes in that chestnut tree as the seasons passed. From her famous writings (The Diary of Anne Frank), we get the sense that this miniscule, microscopic brush with nature sustained her during this incredibly challenging time.

We joyful gardeners can identify. Sorry for the redundancy there. All gardeners are joyful, are we not? I never really thought about this until recently when Kris at Loveland Greenhouse shared something she’s observed over the years. “The people who come in here are joyful,” she says. “Gardeners are just joyful people.”

Agreed; but this observation might be due to more than a simple love of nature and/or wonder of watching seeds blossom and bloom. The secret may be in the dirt itself — primarily mycobacterium vaccae, a bacterium in the soil that has been found to trigger the release of serotonin and norepinephrine levels, those wonderful mood-boosters that many of us enjoy thanks to the marvels of pharamaceuticals.

This is too good to be true, I thought, when I saw a recent post on Yahoo. So I had to investigate. Naomi Sachs, a landscape designer and founding director of the Therapeutic Landscapes Network, reports that the antidepressant link to soil was accidentally discovered about ten years ago when Dr. Mary O’Brien, an oncologist at the Royal Marsden Hospital in London, inoculated cancer patients with M. vaccae (pronounced “emm vah-kay”) in an effort to boost the immune system. Dr. O’Brien noticed that in addition to fewer cancer symptoms, her patients showed improved emotional health, vitality and cognitive function.

Dr. Christopher Lowry decided to put Dr. O’Brien’s findings to the test, this time with mice. In his experiments at Bristol University in the UK, he hypothesized that the body’s immune response to the bacterium causes the brain to produce serotonin. When he injected mice with the M. vaccae bacterium, Dr. Lowry found the mice showed lower stress levels, both physiologically and behaviorally.

The ultimate, eco-friendly antidepressant

These findings certainly put a scientific spin on the healthy effects of gardening that I’ve witessed with family members over the years (and which I myself gratefully enjoy). In addition to my Italian and Slovak grandmothers (see archived blogs), my father Victor Slezak turned to his beloved garden when he was diagnosed with lymphoma in 1972. Just a few months before his diagnosis, he appeared healthy and vibrant as he walked his bride-daughter (that would be me) down the aisle.

Victor and Rose - 1971

The early 1970s were light-years away from the life-saving medical advancements with which we are blessed today. The bad news was that there was no treatment available in his hometown of Middletown, Ohio. The good news was that some “new stuff” (chemotherapy) was available at the Ohio State University Medical Center in Columbus, Ohio.

Believe it or not, chemo was more brutal in those days. For five years, my dad traveled back and forth (with the help of numerous family and friends who drove him) to OSU. Each treatment would send him to bed for almost a week of chronic vomiting. After those five long years, he was in remission. The wonderful docs at OSU had saved his physical life. Gardening had saved his mental/emotional life.

Victor Slezak

On his good days, and even not-so-good, my father found peace and contentment in his quarter-acre garden. Like his Slovak parents before him, he tenderly nurtured beautiful beds of vegetables, herbs and flowers. He even constructed a grape arbor and planted enough grapes that eventually grew to a magnificent ‘umbrella’ under which he and my mother would sit and enjoy the gifts of Mother Nature. Years later, he would do so with his precious grandchildren.

During the winter months, just the thought of his next garden sustained him. He studied seed catalogues, methodically ordering what he would need to bring his summer vision to life. When those seeds arrived, he was like a kid at Christmas as he lovingly planted them in little Styrofoam cups and lined them up on windowsills and under grow lights.

So while his playing in the soil may have, indeed, had an antidepressant effect during the growing season, perhaps the mere anticipation of that garden was therapeutic — similar to what Anne Frank experienced as she enjoyed the seasonal changes of that chestnut tree.

Can you dig it?

From Anne’s writings, it appears that she never succumbed to depression. She never gave up hope. . .

“I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.”

This could have been Victor Slezak’s mantra. I truly never heard my dad complain about the medical challenges that he encountered — even through a second round with the dreaded CA, this time with colon cancer that resulted in surgery and a colostomy bag. Once again, his garden provided a peaceful retreat that, coupled with his Catholic faith, sustained him until he died at age 62 in 1983.

Just dig in!

Joyful thoughts of my father, the inspirational words of Anne Frank and all these scientific findings about the ultimate, eco-friendly antidepressant (aka good ole, dirty soil) just make me want to go out and play in the garden. To quote a phrase from my teen years. . . Can you dig it?

STRING GARDENING... definitely not Grandma Slovak’s twine-tied beans and tomatoes

Like my Italian “Mamma Tony” (see archived blog), my Slovak grandmother (Katrina Slezak) brought her love of gardening to America when the family emigrated in 1924. In her native Bratislava, Czechoslovakia,  Katrina and her family participated in the country’s allotment garden program, through which the government distributed parcels of land to individuals to grow flowers and vegetables in the outskirt regions of their city. Aside from the pure joy of working the plots, allotment gardening provided food for these peasant people, particularly during the lean days of World War I when a teen-aged Katrina and her fellow Slovaks endured a food shortage.

Katrina Slezak

Interestingly, allotment gardening (which is still popular in the Czech Republic and other parts of Europe, but more as a hobby than out of necessity), is similar to the popular raised-bed gardening that many of us enjoy today. Think small wooden boxes (hand-crafted or purchased at a garden shop or big box store), filled with rich soil and planted with tomatoes, lettuce,  onions, herbs. . . whatever you prefer.

While raised beds and patio pot gardening are trendy today, I have decades-old, memories of similar garden plots in the modest backyard of Katrina and my grandfather Ferdinand’s even more modest, two-bedroom home. Like my Italian relatives, my Slovak grandparents turned nearly their entire backyard into a lush garden overflowing with vegetables and herbs of all sorts and a few flowers just for fun. The Slezaks, however,  separated their vegetable plots with strips of wood (I’m thinking maybe railroad ties) — most likely inspired by the allotment plots of their native homeland.

Rising up from these garden sections were tee-pee-like stick structures upon which my grandparents would encourage bean plants to climb, with the help of string. String, in fact, played a huge role in my grandparents’ gardening. Long before the fancy tomato cages and artsy containers that many of today’s gardeners sport, my grandparents were content with their large balls of twine which helped their plants grow tall, stretching toward the sun. The string certainly served them well —as did strips of cloth torn, tied and blowing in the wind to deter birds and other critters. 

I’m not sure that these measures really kept the critters at bay. They certainly didn’t keep me, my brother and my cousins away. As youngsters, we looked forward to roaming through this maze-like little wonderland every summer — chasing each other and hiding under (what appeared to be to us little ones) huge tomato plants and attempting (to my grandparents’ chagrin) to climb the not-so-sturdy string bean stick structures. I’m not sure what they were uttering as they rapidly spoke Slovak when they were not pleased. Suffice it to say, however, that we got the point. Chastisement aside, to us 1950s-era children from families of modest means (who were lucky to get one amusement park trip per season), Grandma and Grandpa Slezak’s bountiful garden was like Mother Nature’s fun house. 

String gardening 21^st century style

With these nostalic images of my grandparents firmly planted in my “down memory lane” inbox, I was thrown for the proverbial loop when I visited the Loveland Greenhouse recently in response to a mention of “string gardening.” Thinking I would learn something new about stringing up my veggie plants this season, I was surprised to, indeed, learn something new— but not about stringing string beans.

The ladies of the Loveland Greenhouse explained that they had been captivated by a string garden display earlier this year at the Philadelphia Flower Show. And so was I when I saw their delightfully kooky plantings suspended from the ceiling. I just had to try this trick in the privacy of my own home; but I was rather intimated. These things just look like way too much work. Turns out, I was wrong.  But more about that later.

Modern String Gardening

First, I needed to know where and how these mesmerizing little pot-less masterpieces came into being. According to www.designsponge.com,  Fedor van der Valk, a Dutch artist/botanist/crotchet enthusiast (yes, you read that crochet reference correctly), is credited with popularizing a process that has its roots (sorry about that pun) in the Japanese art of kokedama — a green moss-covered type of bonsai. It is reported that the idea originated from nearai, a popular bonsai style during the Edo era in Japan (roughly 1600-1800). In the nearai tradition, the bonsai is first cultivated in a pot and then allowed to grow so firmly and tightly that the root and soil will maintain its shape when taken out of the container.

Moving into the 21^st century, Fedor’s pot-less creations are suspended in midair and supported by nothing more than a series of strings tightly wrapped, cocoon style, around a “root ball.” With the guidance of the always enthusiastic Loveland Greenhouse gals, I learned that a lovely little work of art-on-string can be created with minimal effort. Here’s how. . .

Create your own string masterpiece

First off, you’ll need the following:

A tiny plant, preferably a shade-loving variety, as moss doesn’t like direct sunlight. As always, the Loveland Greenhouse staff can make excellent recommendations.

• An approximate 7:3 ratio of peat moss and akedama (or bonsai soil).
• Dry sphagnum moss.
• Scissors.
• Cotton thread.
• Sturdy packing string (such as twine or hemp).
• Live moss.
• Water.

I suppose I should list gardening gloves, as this project will be messy; but truth be told, I rarely wear them. Now for the process:

• Remove as much of the soil as possible from your plant so that its roots are exposed.
• Mix your peat and akedema soil together until the consistency is such that your can form a small ball without it breaking apart.
• Shape your sil into a small, orange-sized ball. For me this is like rolling meatballs. Use water as needed, making sure that the ball is large enough to support the roots of your plant.
• Take a handful of dry sphagnum moss and wrap it around the roots of your plant; then tie the cotton string around it several times.
• Make a small hole in your soil ball, gently press the wrapped plant inside and to continue to shape the ball so that the hole is covered.
• Take small sheets of moss and firmly press them into the soil until the entire ball is covered.
• Wrap twine around the ball in criss-cross fashion as if you’re wrapping a gift. Leave the sides as long as desired for suspension.
• Prepare a bucket with enough water to cover the green moss ball (but not the plant) and soak the ball for about ten minutes.
• Choose a nice, shady place, install a hook and proudly hang your precious little work of art.
• To keep your masterpiece lovely and healthy, simply mist spray every morning. It’s a cheerful way to start the day.

Check out the tutorials

If you are as captivated as I am with string gardening, be sure to check out www.stringgardening.com, www.casasugar.com ,Youtube  and other sites you might stumble upon while googling for imaginative photos and helpful tutorials. And if and when you’re ready to try your hand at this most magical method of connecting with nature, head on over to the Loveland Greenhouse for more inspiration, information and assistance.

Reflecting back on the artistry that Ferdinand and Katrina showed in the methodical arrangement of their plant plots and the lovely design of their vegetable, herb and floral plantings, they’d probably love experimenting with string gardening. Wish they were here to do so. If they were, I’d ask my grandpa to put Grandma Slovak (who never learned to drive) into his old green Studebaker, pick me up and head over to Loveland Greenhouse where we could create some lovely little works of string art together — without the beans.

Meet Mama Tony... seeds saved her life

The summer of 1918 was a sad one in the tiny village of Bisaccia, Italy.  Like many of the residents of this peasant community near Naples, 36-year-old Isabella Piccolella  Gervasio was caring for family and friends suffering from the global pandemic of influenza.  Isabella had even helped bury loved ones (this, after losing  her two little girls, ages 3 and 4, to meningitis just a few years before). So far, she and her 4-year-old daughter, Carmella, had survived. Isabella’s husband, Antonio, was off (who new where?) fighting with the Italian Army in World War I.

One hot afternoon, Isabella herself was feeling feverish — not to mention emotionally overwhelmed at the death cloud that hung over her village. Rather than take to her bed and give in to her fatigue and frustration, she turned to the therapy that had sustained her through many challenges — quiet time with nature. After asking the nuns of the village to look after Carmella, this strong young woman wrapped some seeds in a handkerchief and started on the mile-long walk to the family garden plot. On the way, she passed an older gentleman sitting in the village square.

“Where are you going, Isabella?” he asked.

“Out to plant some seeds,” she responded.

“Aaahhh,” the wise old man predicted. “Plant them if you will; but you won’t live to see them bloom.”

Isabella died in 1981 at age 99. 

Mama Tony - Isabella Piccolella Gervasio

I know Isabella’s story well. She was “Mamma Tony” to me, my grandmother and my role model — on all things gardening and on many things about life and living. (In the old Italian custom, a grandmother was called Mamma followed, out of respect, by her husband’s name — in this case, Antonio or Tony.)

In Tomorrow’s Blooms, you’ll learn more about Mamma Tony, my Slovak grandmother Katerina Slezak, my father Victor and other family members and friends whose green thumbs have inspired me since I was a youngster. And, hopefully, you’ll find practical and inspirational gardening ideas from the creative staffers of Loveland Greenhouse, known regionally and beyond for their engaging (often unpredictable) creativity. I mean, who plants a grand piano with moss? But I digress. . .

A flowering smorgasbord

When Mamma Tony came to America in 1930, my mother (Annina Maria Gervasio) was 9-years-old. The Gervasio family rented a salt-box house on Woodlawn Avenue in Middletown, Ohio. Eventually, they were able to purchase it; and Mamma Tony lived there until her passing. The unusual depth of the homestead begged for a long row of flowering perennials and annuals along the fence. How deliciously fragrant were the climbing roses, lilacs, daisies, lilies of the valley and Mamma Tony’s prized St. Anthony lilies (to mention just a few).

One of my earliest memories of gardening was planting a handful of morning glory seeds along the fence, with Mamma Tony’s help, of course. Even though that was 60-plus years ago, I can still recall the thrill of seeing my first blue flower. I was a gardener at age 4!

That large flower bed (the small sibling of the huge vegetable garden that covered most of the backyard) was like a botanical smorgasbord for me, my brother, cousins and friends. Unlike some grouchy grannies who cringed if any kid got near her garden, Mamma Mia encouraged us to cut a flower or two to “taka to your mamma” (or to simply enjoy, even if it was a momentary pleasure to kids with short attention spans). If my brother grew bored with a daisy after a minute or three, Mamma Mia would laughingly pick it up off the ground and put it in a Mason Jar vase — if I didn’t retrieve it first. I never throw a bloom away, even to this day. 

Botanical bar

Loveland Greenhouse evokes fond memories of my gardening family and experiences. Particularly during this season of the Earth’s rebirth, the colors, textures, fragrances and overall beauty of Mother Nature’s seedlings-turned-blossoms are mood-boosters that you just can’t find in a pill, tonic, book, movie or glass of wine (although I’ve been known to combine the latter with my love of gardening; but I digress. . .)

The creativity of Loveland Greenhouse is what really speaks to my soul. Its latest attraction, a Botanical Bar, is a prime example. Gardening Do-It-Yourselfers are encouraged to “belly up the bar” and create a living work of art, with the assistance of the Greenhouse pros. The Bar’s terrariums are particularly lovely — and easy to create. In fact, I frequently create/purchase hostess gifts at the Bar.

Sometimes, I just drop by to breathe in the beauty of the season. Like I said, it’s a “feel-good” experience that no pharmaceutical can match. And I think that has something to do with the memories of Mamma Tony that my mini-retreats with Mother Nature evoke.

Terrariums 21st century style

Remember when those terrariums of the 1970s were all about creating small eco-systems in giant brandy snifters, plastic globes and/or (gasp!) hanging from macramé hangers? Those kooky versions are so old-school. Today’s terrariums are artsy, kicky and eye-popping. Just head for the Loveland Greenhouse Botanical Bar and feed your inner-eco-gardener.

It's easy to create your own terrarium.

Choose from a variety of interesting containers available or take your own. Think “repurpose.” How about a tiny terrarium for your children or grandchildren in an old-fashioned Mason Jar? Or in your grandma’s old glass perculator (if your lucky enough to have it, as I do my Mamma Tony’s). For a more sophisticated theme, consider a wine decanter or glass bubble hanging from a ceiling.  The possibilities are limited only by your imagination.

The best part about these living works of art? They provide indoor plants with minimal care. 

So love Mother Nature. Love your plants. Love your life-giving  gardening projects. That’s easy to do at Loveland Greenhouse. Mamma Tony would have loved this place.

— Rose Huber