In the 1930s, while American floral designers and garden club ladies were enthralled by the rule-bound, minimal aesthetic of Japanese ikebana, Irish-born florist Constance Spry was throwing out every preconceived notion of what a floral display could be. Drawing inspiration as much from vegetable patches and roadside flora as from 17th-century Dutch floral paintings, Spry combined things like catkins, kale leaves, tomato vines, desiccated grasses, lichen-covered branches, and even weeds with more conventional floral fare in an entirely original way. Her refined, high-low approach to “doing the flowers,” as she called it, forever altered how most of us approach floral arranging, whether or not we know her name.

Even among die-hard Spry aficionados, few know that—for a short time, at least—she had a floral shop in New York City. While her work had been embraced by the British aristocracy, it wasn’t until she did the flowers for the Duke and Duchess of Windsor’s wedding, in 1937, that forward-looking American society hostesses took notice. Two of them convinced Spry to let them bankroll a flower shop in Manhattan.

Shop assistants at Constance Spry's shop on South Audley Street in London, June 1947.

George Konig/Keystone Features/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

The space at 52 East 54th Street, which opened the following year, was as original, chic, and idiosyncratic as one would expect from Spry. A notice about its opening in the New York Times described “white as the decoration motif throughout.” The monochrome design proved a wonderful foil for the displays of flowers that graced the floors, niches, cabinets, and pedestals. The architect Harold Sterner, who had done Helena Rubinstein’s Fifth Avenue beauty emporium, designed curving walls upholstered in a thickly stuffed-and-tufted white fabric— it looked as if a chesterfield sofa had cut loose and spread itself across the perimeter—and accented them with nubby white curtains and pelmets. The dramatic lighting included a recessed checkerboard ceiling panel and a large aluminum-clad pillar with fluorescent strips running from a circular pedestal at its base and extending up through the ceiling. For furnishings, Spry chose white rattan seating and tables from her friend Syrie Maugham’s shop.

Spry wraps a bouquet in her shop.

George Konig/Keystone Features/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

Spry sent staff over from her London shop to train her employees in New York, and even amid the Great Depression, the business flourished. But it couldn’t survive the outbreak of World War II: The operation suffered without the close direction of Spry, who was unable to travel to America, and eventually shuttered. The London outpost, however, thrived until Spry’s passing in 1960. Even today, her legacy looms large in the world of floriculture—and in the beguiling fragrance of one of her friend David Austin’s most famous English roses, the ‘Constance Spry.’

The post Meet the Rule-Breaking Florist Who Thrilled 1930s New York Society appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Blessed with a childhood nickname that stuck, garden designer Butter Wakefield practices her craft with fine strokes of vivid color, like an artist wielding a brush. The American-born designer grew up in a family of horticultural enthusiasts on a small farm outside of Baltimore, Maryland; after college, she landed at Christie’s auction house in New York City, where her love of all things beautiful began. She later married an Englishman, moved to London, and found employment at the great British decorating firm Colefax and Fowler, where, she recalls, “I really started to understand texture and scale and color and pattern.” In a five-bedroom Victorian house located near Ravenscourt Park in London, she raised four children with her now ex-husband. “Having spent a lot of time thinking about the inside of the house, it occurred to me that the garden needed just as much attention,” she says. “And so the seed was sown.”

The back door surround was added for architectural interest and painted in Farrow & Ball’s Down Pipe.

Simon Brown

In a secret corner of the garden, the potting table holds apple crates full of wildflowers; Wakefield added the round mirror.

Simon Brown

“I like a tangle of flowers and texture so you are surrounded by scent and bloom and foliage and climbing plants” says Wakefield.

Simon Brown

Wakefield now runs her own flourishing garden design business, favoring a more traditional style when it comes to her work. “I love very flowery designs, but they must have structure,” she explains. “Within the solid shapes, I like a tangle of flowers and texture so you are surrounded by scent and bloom and foliage and climbing plants.” Sustainability also plays a role: Wakefield incorporates plants that attract pollinators and uses reclaimed materials whenever possible.

A green velvet daybed offers a comfortable place to relax in the glass-topped conservatory.

Simon Brown

The cheerful bathroom is decorated with Blithfield’s Small Medallion wallpaper, majolica plates, and sprigs of chocolate cosmos.

Simon Brown

In the kitchen, dahlias in bud vases and black-and-white Staffordshire dogs are arranged in front of a landscape painting by Sarah Bowman.

Simon Brown

Brightly colored dahlias from Floriston Flower Farm complement the vivid hues in an Eardley Knollys painting.

Simon Brown

At her own home, the glories of the garden move indoors with arrangements of cut flowers that include seasonal delights like daffodils, tulips, roses, cosmos, and dahlias. The interiors are a comfortable combination of soft, brightly hued upholstered furniture arranged with art, heirlooms, and collected objects. (“I am not color averse,” she deadpans in an obvious understatement. “The more color the better. It brings me enormous pleasure.”) Texture, scale, and pattern are mixed and refined, creating a magical world inside and out.

A collection of vases by Richard Pomeroy from Thyme centers an eclectic tablescape ensemble with plates and placemats by Wicklewood and napkins by Villa Bologna.

Simon Brown

Garden-grown cosmos fill an antique lustreware mug on a vintage Colefax & Fowler tray. The wallpaper is Floral Trail by Salvesen Graham.

Simon Brown

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THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 13 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!

The post Butter Wakefield’s Painterly Garden Blooms With Inspiration appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

The post La Musa de las Flores’s Artful Floral Creations Don’t Just Adorn—They Transform appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Miller’s very first Flower Flash was at John Lennon’s memorial just outside of the Strawberry Fields in Central Park on October 20, 2016.Irini Arakas Greenbaum

I felt a strong urge to do something for all my fellow New Yorkers, in a meaningful way that was true to who I am and what I do. It was during this period, in fall 2016, that Irini Arakas Greenbaum, my director of special projects, asked me what needed to change in order for me to feel fulfilled professionally. We discussed whether contentment can lead to complacency. In my case, yes! Work was busy, my team was amazing, clients were happy. But something was missing and I knew the answer lived somewhere in the idea of making a gesture of goodwill. I thought back to an experience I’d had walking home from work. I was leaving my studio and heading to the subway with an armful of peonies.

The flowers were on their last glorious legs, big and fluffy with blown-out petals. I noticed people staring, and they weren’t staring at me! They were looking at the blossoms, and I could see the sheer hunger in their eyes; these men and women were starved for beauty. Flowers had become like wallpaper or furniture to me. Working with them every day, I became desensitized to their allure and attraction.

A Flower Flash at the Isidor and Ida Straus Memorial Straus Park on the Upper West Side, November 5, 2018.Arakas Greenbaum

But standing on a crowded subway with these showstopping peonies, watching heads crane and turn just to catch a glimpse of these blooms . . . Recalling this, something inside me clicked. How better to counter my professional norm of throwing extravagant parties for my fortunate clients than by giving something just as gorgeous to the everyday New Yorker?

The Flower Flash was born.

The team participating in Pride Upper West Side on June 21, 2018.Arakas Greenbaum

Quickly and quietly working in the dark, my team and I created a psychedelic halo of flowers. I was nervous. Can you get arrested for beautifying a public space? By the time the flower installation was complete, dawn had begun to take shape and two curious park workers appeared. I held my breath and wondered if my Flowers for New Yorkers project would live and die in under half an hour, its only audience a squirrel and an early morning jogger. But that was not the case. Outfitted with a leaf blower and a broom, the Central Park staff began to lovingly sweep away the autumn leaves falling around our flowers and gave us their approval with a quick thumbs up.

Out of 150 historical public statues in New York City, only five depict real women. So when Old Navy approached Miller to Flower Flash these trailblazing women (and the Fearless Girl) on the eve of International Women’s Day, they could hardly say no. It was a true feat to conceptualize and execute these Flower Flashes in one night. Each statue presented challenges and, funnily enough, another important woman decided to make her presence known. The morning of this initiative, Mother Nature blanketed the city in several inches of snow, making for a very interesting install. Seen above, the Eleanor Roosevelt Memorial on 72nd and West End Avenue on March 8, 2018.Arakas Greenbaum

As we were packing up our supplies and leaving the park, I was amazed at how quickly a crowd formed. I had hoped for smiles, the kind that flash across a face when witnessing a moment of kindness. That was my goal, my vision: to create a positive, emotional response through flowers. And through social media, we saw the fruits of our labor and were instantly rewarded. We watched in real time as our idea was translated into hundreds of smiling selfies and photographs documenting the flowers throughout the course of the day. It was one of the most rewarding and gratifying “events” I had ever produced.

Unlike with my day job, there were no clients to please and no expectations to exceed, other than those I placed on myself. And unlike producing events, where the process can be lengthy and at times arduous, this random act of flowers was fast, freeing, and provided an intense dopamine rush. And perhaps the biggest difference was that it was made for all to enjoy, not just a select few. The final result was deliciously imperfect and served no other purpose than to bring a brief moment of joy to someone’s day.

A Flower Flash from Valentine’s Day 2017 on 53rd street and 7th Avenue.Arakas Greenbaum

ADAPTED FROM FLOWER FLASH (MONACELLI).

The post How Lewis Miller’s First Flower Flash Shocked the Streets of New York appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

As Gay Talese famously wrote in Esquire’s July 1960 issue, New York is a city of things unnoticed. Unless, of course, you happen to be walking past one of floral and event designer Lewis Miller’s now-iconic Flower Flashes. Even amid the cacophonous beeps, dings and buzzes of Midtown Manhattan, they will stop you in your tracks: a riot of roses, hydrangea and sundry other blooms exuberantly coloring outside the lines of, say, a timeworn trash can. “I love duality,” Miller says of these moments of fleeting sculpture, which he erects in just 15 minutes before daybreak casts its gauzy pink glow over the cityscape. “Swizzling up the pretty and the gritty makes a lot of sense to me. New York City is a fast paced place full of hard edges, turning wheels and steel. I wanted to bring nature and beauty to this urban backdrop, and flowers have a softness and lightness like nothing else.”

It’s no wonder they lift spirits. When Covid-19 descended on New York City, Miller—who made his first Flower Flash in 2016, and soon developed a cult following that led to an Instagram account more than 220,000 followers deep—installed the bloom sculptures outside hospitals to help bring an instant of joy to frontline workers. “I wanted to give back to my fellow New Yorkers,” Miller says. “That was the original intent and what inspired the Flower Flashes. It was a gesture of goodwill that prompted me to create the first Flower Flash.” Indeed, humans have used bouquets in moments of both celebration and solace for millenia: ancient Roman brides brandished floral garlands as they drifted up the aisle to symbolize fertility; funerary flowers have been unearthed that date back to 62,000 B.C. Is it any wonder that cut blooms—seemingly there to hold our hands through life’s major highs and lows—have a market worth of nearly 8 billion a year in the U.S. alone? Call it flower power, with no signs of wilting.

A garland of lively sunflowers brightens up a Manhattan bus stop.Irini Arakas

Miller fell in love with flowers during his childhood in California’s farm country, where he grew up “without a lot of luxuries,” he says. “I needed for nothing, but there was a lot I wanted! Let’s be honest, I craved a bit of excess and beauty. But I was surrounded by flowers—and they filled the void in the best way.” After studying horticulture and landscape design in Seattle, the designer beelined to New York City and took root in a top flower shop before launching his own namesake firm, LMD New York, Lewis Miller Design, in 2002. Now, his work has flourished like a marigold, and his company is nothing less than an empire—clients include boldfaced brands ranging from Louis Vuitton and Harry Winston to Richard Meier and Ralph Lauren. And like his de facto flora art, nothing about him is boring—as he wrote in his first book, “Styling Nature: A Masterful Approach to Floral Arrangements” (Rizzoli, 2016): “The best way to make an arrangement is to think about sex or listen to one of your favorite songs.” Not exactly advice Constance Spry might openly give, though she no doubt would fawn over his creations which, like hers, exult a wildness particular to nature.

Miller created a Flower Flash outside of Casa Magazines in the West Village in honor of the Spring 2021 issue of Frederic.Irini Arakas

In honor of his forthcoming new book, “Flower Flash” (Monacelli Press, October 2021) and some big news, including a brand new outpost in Palm Beach, set to open its doors in November, we had a rapid-fire conversation with Miller to suss out everything from his go-to studio music to his biggest pet peeve.

One tool you can’t live without: My Swiss Army flower knife. I’m a florist, baby. I can’t leave home without it; I’ve lost dozens of them at the airport.

Favorite thing to look at: Clouds. Big puffy clouds, paintings of the clouds. I love clouds.

The most magical place on Earth: It’s a tie between the Amalfi Coast and Istanbul. I think there’s something about the colors and the houses built on hills, overlooking water, that’s just magical, day and night. [In Istanbul, it’s the] same thing. It’s coral roofs, the big domes and the spires and the call to prayer and the Bosphorus going through it. It’s just so far removed from our regular life.

Best studio jams: We listen to The Killers, Fitz and The Tantrums, Cash Cash, Madonna, and Dua Lipa.

Most prized possession: Can it be my dogs? Definitely my three border terriers, Dutch, Tug and Fritz. They bring me joy on the hour.

Biggest pet peeve: Chronic tardiness.

The most sage advice you’ve received: It’s better to be owed than to owe.

Best spot to hang in your hometown: I haven’t been there for 30 years to hang out, so I would say my grandma’s house. For the sake of this article, in the Hudson Valley, The Maker in Hudson is an amazingly chic hotel with this great little speakeasy in the back. Get The Violent Lady cocktail; it’s unforgettable. They actually stopped making them, we had to request them!

Go-to flower: Right now it’s delphinium. Delphinium in all shades of blue, lavender, purple, white, just big hauls…Spires of delphinium.

Color crush: Green. Lawn green, arsenic green, basil green. Maybe it’s because I’ve been spending so much time in Midtown Manhattan, I’m hungry for green. The color of money. Right now, after last year, I’m loving that color.

The post Meet The Man Behind Manhattan’s Famous Flower Flashes appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

A Year at Clove Brook Farm, $45. rizzoli.com.

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My love for peonies is unwavering, so much so that I’ve immortalized them in a series of hand-thrown plates I designed that feature ones I’ve grown at Clove Brook Farm. Together with my studio team, I photograph the blooms in a small white-box studio in the grange hall on my property. They are then put on a ceramic transfer, which is like a decal or tattoo, and applied to the plates. These plates are fired at a much lower temperature than other ceramics. We played with the scale for a long time and ended up with a look that we like and that customers responded to with enthusiasm. The success of those plates has, in turn, inspired the creation of two additional sets of flower plates: the aforementioned peonies, plus a sweet pea and dahlia collection.

For a luncheon on the lawn, I selected one of my favorite tablecloths that I had custom printed by Tillett Textiles in Sheffield, Massachusetts. The butterfly and floral pattern was a favorite of gardener and philanthropist Bunny Mellon. The chairs belonged to my great-grandparents and came from their home along the shores of Lake Erie.Gemma & Andrew Ingalls

For this gracious Saturday lunch in my field, I surrounded the table with vintage chairs from my great-grandparents’ house along the Canadian shore of Lake Erie. Covering the table was a new tablecloth that features a classic Tillett Textiles print favored by Bunny Mellon and Billy Baldwin. I happened upon forty never-used napkins in this same Tillett pattern at an auction of Mellon’s home furnishings, and a friend gifted me the matching tablecloth. I sent most of the napkins to friends but kept a few for myself. I love the juxtaposition of the pale blue Leontine Linens napkins with the bold red monogram in a block script set against the flowery tablecloth.

The vase of baby chicks is a temporary gesture and they are returned to the brooder when the meal begins.Gemma & Andrew Ingalls

The real joy of this table, besides the ebullient peony blooms, comes from the assortment of petite accents. The silver shovels and salt spoons may not be one-of-a-kind pieces, but they are certainly conversation starters, just as the frogs and ladybug ornaments inspire delight and add a touch of whimsy that often seems to be missing from contemporary tablescapes. There are also objects that I search for more actively. I have thousands of napkins and a small army of place mats, but it’s not a stellar bounty. You could say that I’m napkin rich and place-mat poor! I love the contrast and juxtaposition of mixing and matching linens, but it takes patience to build a collection.

A bounty of peonies, lilacs, and viburnums rest in faux-bois cachepots of my own design.Gemma & Andrew Ingalls

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A selection of Peony Dinner Plates inspired by the blooms at Clove Brook Farm, available at christopherspitzmiller.com.

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Christopher’s Peony Arranging Tips

Adapted from A Year At Clove Brook Farm by Christopher Spitzmiller.

The post Christopher Spitzmiller Opens up His Idyllic Millbrook Farm for a Spring Lunch appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Charlotte Moss Flowers, $50. rizzoli.com.

• • •

Tell us why you decided to write about flowers.

I have been photographing flower arrangements in the city and country for as long as I can remember. I think it’s part of my interest in keeping track of my life, chronicling things so that one day when I’m in a rocking chair I can look back at all the stuff that I did—I’m sort of a Miss Havisham when it comes to collecting.

It really became clear to me when I looked at all the pictures that everything was about simplicity. It’s about using what you have, whatever is in season, and don’t obsess about what you don’t have. It made me think that maybe there’s a message in all of this—it doesn’t have to be about spending a lot of money at the florist, but rather about taking the time and doing it.

That’s such a great point, especially in the time we’re living in.

I think that’s an important lesson of life—it’s about using whatever is on hand. So if there’s nothing blooming, then gather a bunch of contrasting foliage—sharp greens, magnolia leaf greens, silvery greens—and that’s an arrangement.

I’ve made a big point in the book of writing about the single lily on your bedside table or a bunch of daisies and all of those sorts of flowers that we think of as ordinary. But really, none of them are ordinary! They’re all little miracles in their own way. I don’t mean to be woo-woo about it all, but I think sometimes we over complicate and we over engineer and we over decorate when, at the end of the day, it’s the simple things that give us the most pleasure.

It’s funny you say that, because when I was flipping through the book, one of the arrangements that stuck out the most was that beautiful blue-and-white vase with that huge spray of baby’s breath. It was like an art piece!

Baby’s breath has really gotten a bad rep as a filler. Same with carnations—people think they’re so ordinary, but I think they’re fabulous with those little multilayered petals that smell like clove. Carnations are also my birth flower, so I’m partial! But I love when you take something sort of ordinary, like carnations or baby’s breath, and then you blow it up and do a mass of it. It takes it to a whole another level. It really makes you stop and go, wow, that’s baby’s breath?

Talk to me about your use of foliage. Some of these leaves are so sculptural.

Leaves are very interesting and people forget about them. Think about the shape of a maple leaf versus the shape of an oak leaf and how different they are. You can find a red maple and a green oak leaf, and then find something soft and find something tall and before you know it, you’ve got this cacophony of leaves.

We had a tropical storm one year and half the branches ended up on the lawn. I went around and I thought, well, what are we going to do with all this mess? And I just picked up all the acorns and put them in creamware bowls and took the oak leaves that had fallen down and put them in these white urns and made big arrangements. They were fabulous because they were big and robust. So debris is not necessarily debris. I mean, what do they say? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. I hope people open up their eyes to think of everything around their yard as having a whole other life. One big branch in an apothecary bottle on a big hall table becomes a piece of sculpture.

Do you have a favorite of these “ordinary” flowers that you you return to again and again? Or is it what’s inspiring you that moment or that that day?

I think it’s really about what’s available. If I go to the nursery and there are six pots of pale pink geraniums, I just have to have them. I’ve had situations where I put potted marigolds down the center of the dinner table because they were a beautiful color and worked with the china. Plus, they were simple and they didn’t require arranging at all—I just plopped them down. I also love the variation in the colors of coleus leaves—they make for an incredible basket when you have the lime green next to that burgundy. They look like someone painted them!

It’s about experimenting. I think you can learn a lot just by walking around a nursery and seeing what speaks to you. There are so many what I call “normal bedding plants” that when put together in a basket take on a whole new life. It looks like it came from a fancy New York florist rather than the nursery!

How do you go about arranging these sorts of flowers?

It’s like therapy. It really does wind me down on a Friday night. I’m always telling everyone to leave me alone when I’m in the flower room doing arrangements because that’s my peaceful time, my zen moment.

I love the idea of high and low and playing with contrast. I have a great English friend who told me years ago that life is the essential contrast. I’ve taken big huge bunches of goldenrod in Dutch silver, but I’ve also put them in baskets. Certain flowers really do require different things, though. Daffodils, for example, grow in a field together in beautiful masses and they like to be that way in a vase too, just like tulips. Whereas with irises, I mean, all you need is one iris to look incredible. They’re just so sculptural that you don’t need a huge bunch of them. Branches need their space, while roses are probably the most open minded and at the same time, the most sought after, because one works great in a bud vase, a bunch of them is fabulous, and then poking them in a mixed arrangement elevates them.

I’m curious about the inspiration behind these arrangements. Are you inspired by something you’ve seen in a painting or in one of your designs, or does it kind of just pop out at you when you’re wandering about?

Sometimes it pops out because there’s something nagging at you, like an idea that you haven’t exercised yet. I think we carry ideas around with us from everything that we’ve seen and done and all it takes is that little spark to reignite. If I see wild branches that are curly, it makes me want to do a Constance Spry moment—something gnarly hanging over the side of an urn with big branches. Or maybe all of a sudden it hits you that the little painting that you saw in the Musee d’Orsay had a similar glass vase and the blossoms. But certainly, all the paintings that I’ve seen, all the artists that have followed, they all speak to you in different ways. Whether it’s the wispiness of a Redouté watercolor or in the robustness of a Dutch still life, I think they all have their moments.

Let’s talk vases. How do you decide what flower goes in what vase?

I look at what I’ve got, and I think, okay, where are they going to go? And I just started pulling containers and putting them together. A lot of people will tell you that you have to have color balance and you’ve got to have the opposite side of the color wheel and then you have to think about odd numbers and height. Wow, that’s too much thinking! I like to operate on instinct. Plus, using the containers you already have is a great exercise. Go through those closets, go through that basement and find things that have possibilities and put your collection all together in one place so you can draw from it and play with it.

You’ve got quite a collection!

I’ve got too many! I buy a lot of pitchers because you can find so many gorgeous old Wedgwood and creamware pitchers, so I love using those when I’m in the country. Just last week I was in Charlottesville and I went into three antiques stores and in one I found this incredible voluted glass vase with big rope handles on the side. It was maybe $100, but it just looks like some monumental piece of Baccarat and it’s going to be a fabulous container. They’re all out there. I don’t think you go out shopping for vases. You can, but I never have, because I’ve always picked them up along the way.

I love the message this book sends about simplicity and the fact that no, you don’t need to spend $400 for beautiful flowers. Just trim the tomato plants and you’ve got an arrangement!

There’s a lot of beauty at the Korean grocer right now. You just can’t be a snob about it! Buy five mixed bunches and take all the baby’s breath out and make one arrangement from that and then one big arrangement out of the carnations. The possibilities are endless!

The post Charlotte Moss Reveals Why She Uses Baby’s Breath—and You Should Too appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

A visitor enjoying the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory at the NYBG.

• “Wake Up Your Garden Saturday”: a seminar on February 8th chockfull of information on prepping your garden for Spring.
• A cooking demonstration on February 14^th by celebrated UK chef, Aaron Bertelsen, who will make dishes from his new cookbook, Grow Fruits & Vegetables in Pots.
• The Winter Lecture Series: The Garden Came First with celebrated designers and gardeners Deborah Nevins, Isabel Bannerman and Sean Hogan on January 30, February 27 and March 26.
• For a complete catalog of events, visit NYBG.com

A student in the midst of a flower arranging class.

1. During the winter months in Northern latitudes, houseplants tend to go dormant because of decreased sunlight. Cut watering in half and avoid feeding to accommodate this slowed growth.
2. Wait until spring to repot plants because repotting is traumatic on your plants’ roots.
3. You may see significant leaf drop from some plants, but as long as the stems are green and you see plump buds, the plant is fine and will grow leaves next season.

1. After a heavy snowfall, go outside and knock the snow off broadleaf evergreens. This will prevent branches from breaking.
2. Water potted trees and shrubs during winter thaws when the temps are in the 40s and above.
3. You may have already recycled last year’s Christmas tree, but you can always cut branches off discarded trees and lay the boughs on top of your herbaceous perennials to insulate them from the winter cold.

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The post Botanical Classes We Love + Winter Garden Tips appeared first on Frederic Magazine.