A few weeks ago I posted a blog about a Bald cypress, Taxodium distichum, that I collected in 2015 and that failed to bud all the way up the trunk. I have a couple of others hanging around that I had been planning to make something of. Today it was time to work on one of them.
This specimen was collected this past January. It’s a relatively small cypress by most standards, with a 2″ trunk, but the taper and movement of the trunk are superb. Originally I felt it could make a nice addition to a forest, if not a specimen bonsai on its own, but unfortunately it decided not to bud all the way up the trunk.
The good news is, it did bud all the way around the lower part of the trunk, meaning the roots were alive all the way around. So today I decided to take advantage of the trunk and the largest of the shoots.
I peeled away the bark down to the living tissue, the wired what will be the new trunk of this tree. It’s not at all uncommon to see old cypresses whose main trunk has died, to be replaced with younger growth. As always, the cypress does its best to get tall. My plan is to develop the living leader into a complete tree. I should make a lot of headway next year.
You can get an idea of my vision here. I potted the tree at a slight slant, which brings the new leader more upright. This suggests that something may have happened to the tree in the course of its life, perhaps a storm that pushed it off its upright position and caused it to die back. But the will to live remains.
I’m looking forward to working on this tree in 2017. But if you’d like to take on that challenge, you can reserve it at our Bald Cypress Bonsai page and it’ll head your way next April.
I’ve written about this Water-elm bonsai (Planera aquatica) a few times now. Ever since I collected it in 2012, I’ve been working toward a broom-form bonsai. And you can see that this year it’s reached a nice stage of ramification. I could continue pinching and pruning this tree, which would improve the ramification even more. But that would not be the best expression of this tree. If you look “inside” it, you’ll see some issues with the branching. Moreover, these issues can’t be resolved by any quick-fix. No, in order to build this bonsai the right way I’m going to have to apply some tough love – meaning tough cuts.
I’m not sure there’s anything harder for an inexperienced bonsai artist to do than this. I have literally cut away about three years’ worth of development. But at the same time, I’ve corrected some issues that are only going to get worse in the tree in the first photo. For one thing, the silhouette of the tree had already reached its finishing point. There was no further it could go without ruining the proportions of the tree. Another problem with the tree is that most of the primary and secondary branches had just grown too long. Again, the only place for the tree to grow going forward was out. Not okay.
So with today’s tough love, this tree is going to begin its next building phase in 2017. This will go very quickly, because I’ve got a large root mass with not so much demand to begin the growing season. I can grow this tree out and prune it back fairly hard about three times next year. By season’s end, the silhouette will be pretty much where it was before I massacred it. Now, another (not so hard) pruning will happen next fall, to build the next phase in 2018. But one step at a time.
I’d love to know what you think of the work I did today. Leave a comment below.
To answer the question first, I don’t know. If this Cedar elm (Ulmus crassifolia) survives, then the answer will be yes but I won’t have any idea of what my success rate would be if I lifted a bunch of them at this time of year. That’s a question I’ll have to answer down the road. But I do want to show you one key pointer if you decide to do some elm collecting of your own.
First of all, here’s the victim – I mean subject – of today’s experiment. It’s a field-grown Cedar elm that’s been in the ground for four years. It started off as a pencil-thin seedling, and has now grown to a trunk girth of 1.5″; the height is about eight feet. This makes it ideal for a medium-size upright bonsai.
The lift was done per my usual technique, namely a cordless reciprocating saw. It took about four or five minutes to cut it free (we’ve having a mini-drought right now, so the ground is harder to penetrate and that slowed me down).
Here’s the specimen topped, lifted, root base roughly chopped with lopping shears, and washed. It’s got some nice roots.
Now, I left the tap root long intentionally, because elms possess a peculiar feature that works against the bonsai artist. In this next photo you’ll see exactly what I mean.
Notice how the bark in the root zone has peeled away perfectly from the sapwood? This happens at both ends of the tree, incidentally. And it means death for the tissue beneath, period. You have to avoid this problem or your wonderful new pre-bonsai elm is not going to turn out the way you want it to.
The answer is the saw. Every cutting tool you use, even when they’re very very sharp, tends to put force onto what you’re cutting. This torsion almost invariably causes the bark to separate from the sapwood, if only slightly. But any separation tends to cause some tissue death. By using the saw, you can either cut through root, trunk or branch completely and cleanly, or you can score around them and then make the cut. If you do score around, it’s still best to saw through.
And finally, the tree is potted into its nursery container. As I said, I don’t know yet if this tree will survive being lifted this time of year. I do know it has good roots, and I know it has food stored for winter already, so it’s just a matter of whether or not the tree decides to live.
Cedar elm is one of my best deciduous trees for the bonsai beginner – and everyone who loves elms should have one. I expect to have a good supply this coming year.
Many of you have followed the saga of my “Root around cypress knee” Water-elm. You may recall that earlier this year I reported that the knees were rotting away – an unavoidable situation. I went ahead and removed the last section a few months ago, adding in soil to fill the space. Then I left the tree alone.
2016 marks the fourth year of training for this bonsai. Water-elms are fast to train, easily reaching showable condition in three years. In the case of this broom-form specimen, year four has brought increased ramification and maturing of the branch structure. Here’s a shot of the tree, taken today.
This specimen tends to experience fall early, so a lot of the leaves are already off the tree. That provides a good opportunity to see “inside” the tree, which is essential when you’re ready to begin refining your bonsai.
In the case of broom-form bonsai that are created from trunk-chopped specimens, there comes a point where you have to make those transitions look right. To illustrate what I mean, take a look at this tree a couple of months after I collected it:
I always make a straight cut when trunk-chopping. This helps the tree produce buds where I want them – an angled cut sounds good, but you don’t always get a bud at the top of the angle-cut – which forces you to chop a second time.
Here’s one of those chops today. You can see that I carved it down in the past. That was the correct step at that particular time. Now I’m at the stage where I need to carve this down smooth, and I need to take steps to preserve the wood.
Here’s the other original leader; you can see the rough cut marks from my knob cutter. This also needs carving.
After carving the main leader. I used a cordless Dremel Multi-Pro® to do the work. Notice that the carved area is designed to shed water. This is very important. You don’t want any of the larger cuts on your bonsai to hold water, as this will promote rot.
Here are two other spots I carved, the secondary leader and a spot on the main leader where I had removed a larger branch. These cuts have been treated with PC Petrifier®, to seal them and prevent rot.
Next spring I’ll cut this tree back fairly hard, in order to begin creating the next level of ramification. By cutting back hard, I’ll be able to prevent the tree from growing out of scale. This is a common error made by many artists, namely, letting the tree grow out of its proportions. One cause of this is the natural reticence to do the hard pruning necessary as you’re building out the tree. Once you’ve done it a few times, however, it gets easier – and your trees are much better off for it.
Here are the tree’s stats, by the way: trunk diameter 2.5″ above the root crown; root spread 9″ from the front view; height 21″ from the soil; spread 16″. I’d estimate the age of the tree to be about 75 years. The pot is a custom rectangle by Bryon Myrick.
I plan to offer this tree for sale next year, after I’ve completed the first round of training in spring. If you’re interested send me an email and I’ll give you the details.
Every bonsai starts from either a seed, a cutting or a layer. That’s about it, unless you’re into gene splicing or some such. You, as the bonsai artist, enter this picture at a certain point – not necessarily sowing the seed or rooting the cutting or making the layer. Indeed, sometimes we enter the picture a hundred years after the seed got its start – which is awesome and a bit unnerving, mind you.
But this post is about you and I, bonsai artists, entering the picture early in the life of the bonsai-to-be, and long before the design is first established. Most everyone I know who’s in bonsai does at some point try their hand at foundational development. What does “foundational development” mean? This is strictly about making the trunk of your bonsai. Whether you start from a seed, a seedling, a cutting, or a layer, your first task is to grow your new tree to the desired trunk size and trunk shape. This can be done in pots or in the ground. For my money, ground growing is the best and fastest way to get to a sizeable trunk.
I have a lot of trees in the ground, getting bigger each year. I’ll lift them at whatever point I think they can make a nice bonsai – invariably with a trunk thickness that’s a minimum of 1″ varying upwards to about 3″. But while they spend most of their time just growing out however they want, periodically I have to step in to make decisions. In addition to changing the direction of growth, I also have to be mindful of trunk taper. Many species aren’t naturally inclined to put on taper when left alone – Chinese elm is one of the more stubborn examples. So growing and chopping and directing the new growth is essential to making good bonsai in the future.
This Winged elm, Ulmus alata, went into the ground a couple of years ago as a pencil-thick seedling. Winged elm is another species, incidentally, that doesn’t do taper on its own. This one had a nice curve in the trunk, which also doesn’t normally happen naturally, so I felt it was definitely worth growing to size. Last year it puttered along; this year it threw a nice six-foot leader. As you can imagine, the trunk got a lot thicker.
But it’s at this point that intervention is called for. Left alone another year, the entire tree will get thicker – good, to be sure – but the taper that’s present in the lower part of the trunk, the “bonsai part,” will be grown out of the tree. I can’t let that happen.
Luckily, this tree had a smaller leader emerging from the trunk about 8″ above the soil. This made for a perfect place to chop the strong leader.
Here’s the tree after a quick chop, some knob cutter action and cut seal. The leader I’ve left on the tree will be allowed to grow next year, in order to make the transition point smoother. Then it’ll get chopped back close to today’s chop. At that point, the basic trunk size and shape will be suitable for lifting the tree and containerizing it. Then it’ll be ready for the next stage in its life as a bonsai.
Here’s another piece of material I put in the ground a couple of years ago, an Edible fig, Ficus carica. The main trunk has swelled to a basal thickness of 2″, with the tree over six feet tall. The trunks both have nice curves in them, but frankly the larger one is pretty boring as is. The obvious answer to that is to chop it back hard and grow out a new leader. But where to chop?
Here’s a closeup of the trunk. See that nice fat bud? If you strain, you can just see it in the first photo. So I want to be sure I chop this trunk to a bud that I’m confident will grow out next year. Ideally, I’d like the trunk to regrow from just this spot.
And here’s how to hedge your bets. Notice I didn’t chop the trunk near the bud in the photo above – rather, I chopped it at the next node where there just happens to be another nice green bud. I suspect I’ll get growth from both of these spots next year, which will allow me to come back and shorten the trunk further. But it never hurts to have an insurance policy.
If you’re growing your own material for bonsai, it’s important to understand the steps you have to take to achieve your goal for each tree. Timing may not be everything, but in foundational development it’s almost everything.
Sunday morning musings
I love big bonsai. I’ve loved big bonsai since I first got really into the art, and became aware that bonsai could range up to four feet tall. I’ve collected and trained my share of big bonsai. And whenever Cathy is explaining to someone that very odd thing I do, she invariably says I grow “giant” bonsai.
So with that introduction there’s an obvious question to be asked: Can there be big happiness in small packages? The answer is yes (wouldn’t be much of a blog post if the answer was no, right?).
Over the past 25+ years I’ve collected somewhere on the order of 1,500 trees. For the most part these were trees sporting trunks of 2″ basal diameter and up. Yet there’s so much more to bonsai. Through the years I’ve done a good bit of propagation, and I really enjoy it. Whether it’s from seed or cuttings or layers, making new plants gives me a real sense of accomplishment. You might call it big happiness in a small package.
Here’s a prime example of a really insignificant piece of material, a Green island ficus, Ficus microcarpa. I just made this “small package” about eight weeks ago from a much larger bonsai owned by one of our local club members. His tree has produced countless clones for club members over the years. I took a small shoot he trimmed off his tree, dusted it with rooting powder and stuck it in a pot filled with sand. It faithfully produced roots in just over a week, at which time I potted it in a gallon nursery container. I fed and watered it, then waited for it to start growing. It’s quadrupled in mass since then, and a couple weeks ago I carefully pulled it from its nursery container and put it into this nice Chuck Iker round. My plan is to bring it indoors this winter, then next spring grow it bigger still (making more small ones along the way). In time I should have a nice indoor bonsai, as the tree “grows into” the pot. But I’ll tell you, this small ficus brings me a huge amount of pleasure – big happiness, as it were.
Here’s another small package I wrote about in a blog some time ago, a Chinese elm, Ulmus parvifolia. This is another bonsai that started out life as a cutting. In this case, rather than grow the tree on in a larger nursery container or the ground, I potted it straight into a bonsai pot and began its training. Six years later, the tree had developed into a miniaturized Chinese elm with a relatively small trunk. But it developed tons of character along the way. Small package, big happiness. I sent it off to a new home this year, where I know it’s brought a lot of joy.
Here’s an example of big happiness in a really small package. I grew this tiny Water-elm, Planera aquatica, from a cutting I made last year. The cutting wasn’t the normal straight whip most commonly used for propagating by this technique, so it had a ready-made branch structure. Today I put it in this very small hand-made pot. It stands a mere 5.5″ above the soil surface. Does it look like a real tree in nature? You be the judge, but to my old eyes the answer is most definitely.
Oh, just so you can get an idea of the relative size of this “big happiness”….
Bonsai is one of the most unique pastimes there is. When you consider the variety of species, styles and range of expression in the art; the flowers and fruit of certain species; the vision and diligent care of the artist; the quiet character of the miniature tree through the seasons; from the tiniest shohins to the grandest imperial size bonsai, it’s hard to find a more pleasing pursuit.
Even after 25+ years of collecting trees for bonsai, I still do crazy/risky things. I mean, this is all for fun, right? Here’s one of my latest examples.
I usually collect Sweetgums (Liquidambar styraciflua) in May and June. Winter collecting has resulted in poor survival rates for me, as low as 20-30%. So having learned that lesson the hard way, I wait till May and wrap it all up by June.
In the case of this tree, I got a wild hair in August and sawed it out of the ground. The trunk base is 1.5″ in diameter, and it’s 12″ to the chop. I really like the trunk character.
The tree is pictured from what I figured would be the front. It seemed to show off the best features of the trunk. This is always important when you’re creating a bonsai. The trunk of a bonsai is the foundation of it. The size, the shape, the movement, the character, all of these things play a role. Without them, it’s very hard to make something that looks right. So it’s only natural that I would be careful when deciding on the front of the tree.
Fast-forward to today. All of those shoots just starting to push back in September are elongating. That’s a good sign. So today it was time for another wild hair – can I make something out of this unusual piece of material? You see, my original idea for this tree was of a fairly standard informal upright or even slanting style tree with the requisite branch structure: first branch (on the left), second back, back branch, and so on up the tree finishing in the crown. Nothing at all wrong with that, either. But considering where all the new growth appeared, is there something more to this specimen than what I saw in the beginning?
This is where photos and a little study can help you to not miss better options with your trees. Here’s what I mean.
First I turned the tree to have a look at the back. Anything here? Well, not really. But you do have to look.
How about from this angle? Now I think I’m seeing something better – something a little out of the ordinary. So I figured I’d wire the shoots and the leader to see if I was right.
Here’s the result, and now by turning the tree just a bit I see the design of this one. I envision a shallow oval, fairly long to give the impression of a landscape scene. That should make for a dramatic presentation.
What do you think? Do you like where I went with this one? And have you ever used photography to help you design your trees? Leave me a comment below.
I love forest plantings. With that said, I’ve seen countless poor forest plantings, and it’s all due to poor design. So how do you ensure that your design will pass muster? Is there a formula? Actually, there is. Here’s a bald cypress forest I assembled today from a group of saplings I’d grown from seed started a few years ago.
It’s not much to look at, having been made from an odd collection of less-than-stellar saplings, but focus your attention on the bases of the trunks. If you get this part right, the rest almost takes care of itself. If you get this part wrong, there’s not a lot you can do to correct the problem without ripping the forest apart and starting over.
So if you focus on the bases of the trunks, your brain should recognize something that “makes sense” to it. Bonsai forests are landscape scenes to an even greater extent than individual bonsai are. It’s not just a single tree, a lone sentinel as it were; it’s much more complex. In the grand world of bonsai, the forest planting lies smack in between the individual bonsai and saikei – a planting that consists of trees, stones, sometimes water, and even miniature buildings and figurines. It’s hard to do saikei well; it’s hard to do bonsai forests well. But I hope to make it a little easier for you.
Let’s start with how to plan a bonsai forest. First of all, the obvious. It’s going to have an odd number of trees, unless you’re going for the really big ones that are in excess of 11 trees. After 11, it’s not vital that you stick with odd numbers.
Second, the trees should have similar characteristics in terms of trunk style. For the most part, you don’t want to mix trees with straight trunks and trees with curving trunks (you can see that I need to actually wire a few of the specimens next spring to straighten them – not a huge chore, but necessary). You also want varying trunk sizes, namely, a largest focal tree, one to a few trees of somewhat smaller caliber, and other specimens with decreasing trunk sizes. You’ll want a couple of trees with really thin trunks, specifically to go in the rear of the planting.
Next comes the plot plan. For those of you who are experienced at making well-designed forest plantings, this doesn’t have to be formalized. If you’re new to the game, I’d highly suggest sitting down and making yourself a drawing like the one below.
Here I’ve reduced the design pictured above to a plot plan drawing. It’s basically the layout of the forest. It’s also a sure-fire way to create a design that looks right. Notice the dotted lines I’ve added that show a key principle of forest design – no trunks visually obscuring others, either from the front or side view. I’ve listed this and the other design principles in a nutshell, to the left. If you simply follow these rules, you’ll be hard-pressed to go wrong.
Have you done any forest plantings? Are you satisfied with the results? I’d love to hear any feedback you’re willing to share.
The days are getting shorter, and many if not most of you have already had some cool nights. Your bonsai have also begun to slow their growth. Now, this doesn’t mean they aren’t growing at all, it just means the dynamic growth of spring and early summer has given way to a different set of priorities for your trees. With fall comes a single imperative for temperate zone trees, namely, surviving the coming winter. To be sure, reproduction is near completion for many species – Chinese elms among them. Mine in the landscape are covered in seeds. But beyond this, the trees are working hard on storing food to get them through winter. As a bonsai artist, you may have noticed this phenomenon by way of wire that has suddenly bitten into branches you wired weeks ago. They sat undisturbed for all that time, all was well, then one day you walk out and are surprised to see the wire is binding. This fall swelling is due to food storage activities, and is perfectly normal. It also can be aggravating, but that’s part of the fun of bonsai.
Once you get all the wire off your trees needing it, you don’t want to miss an opportunity to do some pruning and even rewiring if you so choose. The leaves will be falling from your deciduous trees within about eight weeks. Once they’re gone, nothing is going to happen again until spring. There’s certainly nothing wrong with waiting till then to wire your trees again – but don’t forget that spring brings with it chores that must be done at that time. For those of you whose collections are rather large, repotting alone will occupy a great deal of your time once the buds start swelling. I do my share of pruning and wiring at repotting time, but trees that have already been wired the previous fall can go right to the repotting process. It can make a big difference.
This water-elm was a perfect candidate for some fall pruning. The tree is only in its second year of training, but the basic branch structure is done. Next year the tree will move into the ramification stage, where I devote most of my effort to building foliage pads on each of the branches. It’ll start looking more “organized.”
Today’s work consisted of three significant activities:
- I pruned out unneeded branchlets and shoots
- I carved two uros, one of them at the chop transition point in the apex, and treated with wood hardener; and
- I wired and positioned the number one left branch, which is a year younger than the other primary branches on the tree
I won’t touch this specimen again until next spring, at which time I’ll likely do a little more refined pruning and wiring.
Here’s another activity you can do in the fall, depending on the species and your skill level. I’ve been reporting on this Chinese elm during 2016 as I developed it into a nice pre-bonsai specimen. Today I decided the tree was ready for a bonsai pot, so I grabbed this Chuck Iker round off the shelf and cut off enough roots to fit the tree into it.
Is fall really an okay time to be potting trees? Again, it depends on the species and your skill level. I know that root growth is fairly vigorous in the fall, so this tree should recover fine over the next 6-8 weeks – in time for actual cold weather here. There won’t be any significant foliar growth for the rest of 2016, but that’s all right. Come spring of next year, this tree will be ready to explode with new growth, at which time I’ll be able to complete the design. If I wait till spring to pot the tree, the growth will be delayed by a few weeks and I’ll lose a round of growth. This way I get a leg up.
By now you know that I hate to give up on trees that didn’t go where they were supposed to when I first brought them home. Not that I never literally chuck out a piece of material, but if there’s something work salvaging I keep it on the bench or in a corner waiting its turn.
Here’s a classic example of a tree I just couldn’t give up on, a bald cypress (Taxodium distichum). Collected in Winter 2015, this was one of those really nice specimens that just failed to bud out near the top despite my best efforts – this happens on occasion. But it did throw a bud about a third of the way up, so I thought that I just might make something out of it one day. I fed the tree and kept it watered, but otherwise left it alone.
This growing season, I tied the “apical” shoot upright so it would extend and gain heft. The result was good. The tree has picked up some decent strength this year.
Just as important, the tree had thrown enough buds around the perimeter near the base that I figured the radial roots had to be alive. This is very important, considering how easily cypress wood rots when in contact with water. While I certainly could have carved the tree out into the ground, I much preferred the idea of a good stable buttressed base – that’s what impressive bald cypresses are all about, right? Today I dug around the base, and sure enough those roots are alive.
The first order of business today was the remove the bark from the dead parts of the tree. You can see the lovely cypress wood that emerged. And from this angle you can get a more exact idea of where that apical shoot emerges.
The next step in the process was to remove the unnecessary shoots that had grown around the base. The roots are alive, so I’ll get more budding all around – which will be allowed to grow a bit for the next couple of years but will ultimately be discouraged. For now, I wanted to see my planned design more clearly.
The view from the front.
And finally, the beginning of my vision for this future bald cypress bonsai. I’ll create a structure that is basically an informal upright tree regrown from an older specimen that died back – a style I’ve seen in the wild which is very impressive. I left a lower shoot which I think will help with the ultimate design (if not, I can easily whack it off later).
In 2017 I’ll transfer this tree to a growing tub to give it more room to grow and strengthen. I need the new young trunk to be about half the thickness of the dead trunk at the point where it emerges, which will take a few years. In time, though, I’m thinking this is going to be an awesome bonsai.
Tomorrow I plan to do some additional work on the dead wood, including some carving in the dead apex. I’ll post an update.
The base of this tree is 4″ in diameter about 4″ above the soil surface, and it’s almost 26″ to the tip of the dead apex.
I’d love to hear what you think about this bald cypress. Just leave a comment below.