Gardens of the World - Guess where I have been

Middle East? Far East? Nope. Just Berlin. At the site of the IGA 2017 to be precise - IGA being short for International Gardening Exhibition (exhibition = Ausstellung in German). It's a spring-to-autumn extravaganza that takes place every 10 years, always in a different city or region of Germany. I'll write more about it in my next post, but today I want to show you some pictures of the permanent gardens also on site. Most of them have been there before the IGA opened its doors and will remain accessible to visitors after it finishes. Collectively, they are known as Gardens of the World (Gaerten der Welt) and are well worth a visit if you are in Berlin and have ticked off the usual must-see-and-do's already.

If this sounds like faint praise, it is mainly on account of the site being so far off the beaten track: you can't just pop in between visiting the world-famous museums, Berlin's icon The TV-Tower and the Brandenburg Gate. Indeed, the journey is a bit of a schlep although easy enough on the city's public transport, namely the overground S-Bahn. It just takes a bit of time to get to the outlying district of Marzahn-Hellersdorf.

Once there though, you can travel if not the world then at least gardens of various international destinations. A great advantage of this is being able to compare the differences between traditional Korean, Chinese and Japanese gardens, for instance - both in style and atmosphere. Of course, there is no one "Chinese" or "Japanese" style. But there are certain elements which tend to define these gardens and make them distinct. And here, without much knowledge into the specifics, you can soak it up and get a feeling for these differences. For the gardens here in Berlin-Marzahn are not a European make-believe version with some acers, stone lanterns and buddhas randomly dotted about - they are as real as they could possibly be outside of Asia, many not only having been designed by artists from the respective country but using original materials and even crafts people from there to build them.

I particularly loved the Japanese garden for its peacefulness. Its highlight, at the end of the journey ambling along a narrow path up and down hill on the perimeter, is a tableau - to be looked at and contemplated rather than stepped into and immerse yourself in as our Western gardens usually are. The sun shone at the right angle and after a few minutes of sitting there and waiting I had the place to myself for a while. Pure bliss. And as an idea to take home, perhaps, I liked the rain chains (instead of rain pipes) fixed between roof and ground.

I've seen a real Japanese garden before at Holland Park, London, which I also love (I'm not sure the Japanese garden at Kew qualifies to the same degree). This one here is more intimate, however. And an equally intricate and sophisticated true Chinese garden was one of my favourite discoveries in Frankfurt am Main, Germany years ago. But a Korean garden was entirely new to me. The lasting impression of the latter would be lots of walls, yards and fairly few plants. But maybe I was just not taking enough time.

Covering the whole of IGA in one day, as I attempted, is perhaps possible but madness. You simply rush from one attraction and highlight to the next, trying to not miss the best parts and take in the appealing but "less sensational" passages in between, too. But then, I would not have the chance to do so again, so on I marched. With the Gardens of the World at least, I can come back and enjoy them at a more leisurely pace. And then I will take time for a proper tea ceremony, too, for this is what you can witness in the Chinese garden's restaurant sometimes.

This garden was the first to be opened on site, in 2000, and at its centre there is a 4500 sqm sized lake and various buildings and zigzag bridges. I love the Asian way with naming things - it is always so poetic and evocative. So here we have the tea house called "Mountain House of the Osmanthus Juice" (I hope my translations are correct!), the entrance hall "Parlour of the Fair Weather", the "Pavilion of the Quiet Moonshine" and a stone "boat" called "View to the Moon" among others. 

There is also a newly designed and planted English garden, with a pergola, lots of lavender and roses, a walled kitchen garden, orchard and other features. It is all very pretty but maybe I've just seen too many truly remarkable gardens over here in the UK already to be awfully impressed by this one. In the middle there is a reed-roofed "cottage" where you can indulge in English favourites like cream-tea or carrot cake etc. Hungry as I was at that time I didn't eat there as I thought it rather expensive, especially since I live in the land of scones and clotted cream and hence they are - while still a treat - again not as rare to me.

English garden: the dull grey sky seems particularly authentic - the bolted rose shoot less so

I did stop for a treat at the café/ restaurant in the big glasshouse which houses the re-opened and newly extended Balinese garden. Knowing too little (i.e. nothing) about Balinese gardens, I cannot say anything as to its authenticity. While the buildings and most plants included are  original (due to a twinning of cities Berlin and Jakarta) , I am less sure about the design of the "garden". Its called the "gardens of the three harmonies" and in essence, there is a "village" consisting of gates, a private dwelling, a traditional pavilion and shrines, set in tropic vegetation you'd expect in the glasshouses of a botanical garden or a municipal park in the tropics - such as frangipani (Plumeria) or Hibiscus - plus something that resembles rice paddies under palm trees. 

But maybe I'm wrong to expect a "garden" in our temperate climate sense of the word. An explanation states that the gardens express an important aspect of Balinese philosophy, namely the endeavour to reach a state of harmony between man, his surroundings and the whole universe. It also explains that the village buts on to jungle, as is common in the south of Bali. Indeed, it explicitly stated that "in Bali, there are no gardens in the common sense since plants are not chosen by artistic criteria but purely according to their use - as medicinal plants, food or for ornamental reasons." So there you are.

There was no doubting the "garden" credentials of the Oriental garden though. "Oriental" is a bit of a misnomer - all the above except the English would qualify as oriental, i.e. eastern, I'd say. So perhaps "Islamic garden" is a better description. Most interested people will be familiar with the concept of an enclosed garden divided by water rills into four parts that contain palms & trees, shrubs, flowers etc. and some loggia or arcade along the walls to retreat to for extra cool shade. This is what we have here and I thought it a stunningly beautiful replica.

Another permanent fixture is the Christian garden. It sits a bit strange perhaps amongst the Gardens of the World, but is probably meant to balance out the "Oriental" garden and its Islamic ideas of paradise. Like the latter, it too features a design of four quarters with a fountain at its centre. But rather than water rills down the middle it has a pergola-like walk around its perimeter, invoking of course the cloisters of medieval times where Christian monks would go about their business. Lacking the traditional abbey buildings, the cloister here is symbolized by cage-like lattice walls that feature passages from the bible and other philosophical or literary texts, the joined metal letters which form the words somewhat resembling lace work.

While correct in the depiction of its traditional elements, I didn't much like the Renaissance garden. It felt too much like a theme park version. Which, of course, is exactly what it is. But you'd want to fall for the illusion. With no real building to speak of, just Potemkin village-style walls and gates, this was impossible. All the more so since on the horizon the high-rise buildings of Marzahn intruded. Still, for an idea of what the classic Renaissance garden consists of, it was okay: Evergreen parterres, hedges, terracotta pots with citrus trees, statues, columns, urns and stone benches and a grotto or niche with a wall fountain were all there.

Just lacking an azure sky and glaring heat...

Slightly thwarting the illusion: Italian Renaissance garden with Berlin's high-rise suburbs for a backdrop

Finally, there are a maze and a labyrinth as well as the Karl-Foerster garden as part of the Gardens of the World. I'm not really sure why they have been included under this heading, especially the latter. I can only assume that - outside of IGA 2017 - they are intended as yet more examples of different approaches to garden design.

Karl Foerster, of course, was one of, if not the most famous and influential German gardening personalities of the 20th century, celebrated as a garden writer and creator, garden philosopher, nursery man and, most lastingly perhaps, plant breeder who introduced many a fine selection of grasses and perennials, especially as astilbes, delphiniums and asters. His style owes to William Robinson, I'd say, and he is especially known for his famous sunken gardens and quotes like "A garden without phlox is an error."

I do not include any pictures of the Foerster garden here; firstly because I do not think it to fit well here and also because I don't have any: by the time I'd arrived there it was not only late in the day but my camera's battery dead after a day working overtime... If that isn't inducement to come to IGA 2017, I don't know what is ;-). More about the latter in my next post.