Inner-city oases:
Rooftop gardens at Ark Hills, in Akasaka, Tokyo YOSHIAKI
MIURA PHOTO
"Don't be fooled by the crowds milling around the rose beds."
That's gardener Akemi Sugii's perplexing heads-up for anyone
planning a visit to next week's open days of the Ark Hills rooftop
garden she manages in Tokyo's upmarket Akasaka district.
High life: Gardener
Akemi Sugii tends some of the plants in the native- species section
of the Ark Hills rooftop garden (top), while in another section
tulips bloom (above). YOSHIAKI MIURA PHOTO
That's because, Sugii says, the high point of her handiwork is
not to be found in the showy ranks of red, white, yellow and pink
roses, but in a far more subdued section of the garden dedicated to
plants native to Japan and East Asia.
Sugii is one of many horticulturists and environmental activists
in Japan calling for increased use of native plants in gardens and
landscape projects.
Some argue the shift is necessary for ecological reasons —
native plants can't compete with fast-spreading alien imports such
as Giant Ragweed (Ambrosia trifida), for example, which
now dominates great tracts of land beside the nation's highway
network.
However, Sugii's reasoning is more positive — and directed
specifically at private gardeners.
"Japanese people have fallen in love with English gardens," she
said, so when it comes to which plants to put in their backyards,
they tend to go straightaway for roses and tulips. "But gardening
is a type of amusement," she observed with a smile. "And it's more
fun to have more things to play with, right? So why limit the type
of plants you use?"
The Ark Hills rooftop garden actually occupies several rooftops
— mostly those belonging to the gracefully stepped Suntory Hall.
The native plants occupy one of the steps — an area of about 600
sq. meters — and the roses another. Standing in among all that
greenery, it's easy to forget you're in the middle of Tokyo.
Pointing out a stand of low-growing isogiku (Chrysanthemum
pacificum), with its white-rimmed leaves, and fragrant
kawara nadeshiko (Dianthus superbus), with its delicate
purple flowers and elegantly slim leaves, Sugii explained that
native plants such as those are not as likely to "overwhelm"
viewers as a big gaudy flower might — but nevertheless they possess
a "quieter, more calm" beauty, generated largely from the pretty
shapes and colors of their leaves.
Another advantage of natives, Sugii noted, is that many are
resistant to strong winds, making them suitable for use on exposed
urban balconies.
She also confided that a clue to assessing the hardiness of a
plant is often hidden in its Japanese name. "Names that have
references to the ocean or water indicate that the plants thrive in
those environments," she said.
For example, the "iso" in isogiku means "rocky shore,"
suggesting that this type of chrysanthemum (giku or
kiku) is accustomed to the strong winds common along
coastlines. Similarly, the "kawara" in kawara nadeshiko
means "dry river bed," suggesting those plants have a degree of
drought-tolerant hardiness.
Local charm: A delicate
purple flower of the native kawara nadeshiko
YOSHIAKI MIURA PHOTO
But not content to merely urge gardeners to pay more attention
to native species, Sugii suggests they will find it more fun to
choose plants that are "visibly Japanese" as well. By this it turns
out she means plants whose forms consist of "lines," rather than
"flat planes."
Tokusa (Equisetum hyemale), for example, which grow up
to about 1 meter high, "consists of dead-straight, dark-green
shafts, so they are reminiscent of a Japanese aesthetic," Sugii
said. Still, she laughed off the suggestion that they look like a
bonsai version of bamboo. "They're a totally different plant," she
said.
Gardeners looking for a larger shrub might try a
ookamenoki (Viburnum furcatum), which has
similarly ramrod-straight branches juxtaposed nicely with generous
round leaves.
"Another characteristic of Japanese plants is that they are not
orderly like a conifer — the arrangement of their branches is often
quite disordered," explained Sugii, confounding somewhat the
stereotype of all things Japanese being nothing if not well
ordered.
That trait, she explained, has fed into ikebana, the traditional
art form in which the tasteful arrangement of varied cuttings is
paramount.
Green seen: Akemi Sugii
leads a tour atop Suntory Hall in Ark Hills. YOSHIAKI
MIURA PHOTO
Still, Sugii thinks Japanese native plants have had a
problematic relationship with the local form of flower
arrangement.
Several decades ago there was a move to bring sanyaso
(native mountain plants) into ikebana, she said. Plants such as
shojo bakama (Heloniopsis orientalis) became
popular for their tiny and delicate flowers, but as they were
native to high altitudes, they soon became infamous for the
difficulty of their cultivation.
"Because of this sanyaso movement, Japanese plants have a
reputation for being difficult to raise in private gardens," said
Sugii, who now sees it as her mission to "tell people that there is
more to native plants than sanyaso."
Hence the native-species section at the Ark Hills rooftop
garden.
However, if you make it there on Friday, April 24, or Saturday,
April 25, (the gardens are open 10 a.m. till 1 p.m.), you might
have to fight your way past crowds of people marveling at the rose
beds.