A small world |
|
After 45 years of painstaking work by Bob Langholm (or Bob-san as his bonsai master calls him), there is a little piece of Japan buried deep in the heart of the central Auckland suburb of Mt Albert.
Plants and trees have been in Bob’s blood his entire working life – he was chief propagator at the 75-hectare Auckland Domain for 26 years – so it’s no surprise this passion spills into his own garden. His formal bonsai training began in Los Angeles in the 1970s and, before long, Bob was in Japan learning under a master. These days he is a master himself, patiently shaping not only trees but the minds of his students.
According to Bob, the definition of bonsai is “the restriction of root growth in a shallow container” and this method of gardening remains very popular in Japan where every square metre of living space counts. “Gardens in Japan tend to be small. They’re often just rooftops or balconies, so compact and contained trees are perfect for these sites,” he explains.
The intricately shaped but full-sized Holly-wood juniper outside his villa is only a hint of the spectacle to come. Bob’s best guess is that there are more than 400 bonsai trees in his backyard. Determined to push the boundaries, he relishes experimenting with trees that are usually left to their own devices.
As well as the traditional bonsai specimens of pines, cedars and junipers, he tames and trains New Zealand natives such as pohutukawa, kowhai, kauri, kahikatea and manuka.
A tree can be coaxed to form one of five main bonsai shapes – formal upright, informal upright, slanting, semi-cascade and full cascade – and they’re all represented in this knee-high forest. Sometimes a young tree gives clues as to which shape it should be trained into, says Bob. If its trunk already has a diagonal lean, he may make it a slanting shape. At other times, he will delight in persuading a naturally tall tree to adopt a low and sprawling form. “Who says I can’t make a cascade out of a Pinus radiata?”
To make a bonsai specimen, the heavy wooden inner roots must be cut away in order to slow the tree’s rate of growth. Bonsai trees are always grown in pots, which help to contain their growth. Bob’s process of choosing a pot sounds a bit like selecting a new shirt. “I hold different containers up to the tree to see which one shows it off to best advantage. Rectangular, square, round, deep or shallow – each pot gives a tree a different look.”
Bob is also very particular about exactly how he displays his handiwork. “I always try to achieve a pleasing mix of colours, needle textures and shapes in each distinct area, so it’s not just the bonsai that impresses but also the layout.”
Within the garden, gravel paths, bamboo walls, stone lanterns and a green tea hedge conspire first to hide, then to gradually reveal, the carefully composed vistas.
Most small gardens have room for only one or two feature trees but a bewildering range of specimens – albeit pint-sized – thrive here, including Californian redwood, liquidambar, pagoda trees, Japanese maple and a plethora of pines. Bob can pick full-sized granny smith and golden delicious apples from his miniature fruit trees. Appearances can be deceptive though, and what might look and feel exactly like a head of bright green broccoli is, in fact, a slow-growing false cypress.
Strategically placed driftwood fastened on with screws and nails is sometimes used to make a specimen look older than it is. The illusion of a tiny Podocarpus totara forest has been achieved by a technique called raft planting, which involves planting a tree horizontally in its tub so that its branches rise up vertically.
Bob shares this lilliputian world of trees with his partner, Simon Misdale, an award-winning manufacturing jeweller and one of Bob’s full-time bonsai students.
When he’s not clipping trees, Bob practises holistic healing and reflexology and he likes to manage his plants with the same wholesome philosophy. “My entire garden is built on nature’s energy. There are no artificial fertilisers or high-powered sprays here. I control pests with potions I make from garlic, rhubarb leaves and seaweed. Nature is a wonderful teacher – every day I learn something new about my plants.”
Story: Shelley Bridgeman
Photographs: Karen Ellis Green
| 
|
| 
