PLANT-AND-CONTAINER COMPOSITIONS
In the past few years my preoccupation with miniature plants has led to some pleasurable rummaging and shopping for containers in which to place them to make compositions for a bedside or telephone table, for the narrow window sill above the kitchen sink, and for the small bric-a-brac shelf in the foyer.
As any flower-arrangement artist knows, small-scale compositions are often more intricate and more difficult than full-scale affairs—every detail is subject to separate scrutiny. However, patience, good taste, and an artistic flair will unite a plant and a container with an affinity that looks casual, even accidental, but actually is cunningly contrived. Container and plant become one picture—neither outshining the other—the container setting off the plant, and not sacrificing its own importance.
People who are intrigued with these miniature compositions usually collect containers in wide variety. Some of them are even made for the express purpose of holding plants—from wood, bronze, copper, all sorts of chinaware, glass, and ceramics. But the containers that give the most fun are those made for entirely different purposes. I’ve seen tiny bird cages, little woven baskets, glass lamp shades, odd-ball ash trays, punch cups, unusual tea or coffee cups, soup tureens, and even an ancient Buick hub cap which a little girl “borrowed” from her father’s collection of automobile antiquities. Some gourds are just the right size and shape, and with a nice wartiness, to lend enchantment for growing plants. Our cat keeps us well supplied with the tins in which his food is sold—spray them with paint and they are ideal for many plants. Some cocktail or champagne crystal looks precious with miniature vines drooping over the side.
Strawberry jar resembling gnome, planted with Kenilworth ivy
Once for our P.T.A. fair I collected a dozen or so unmatched liquor glasses, put a half-inch of soil in the bottoms, and planted tiny Sinningia pusilla. They sold immediately, with people wanting more. A plant sale at such an affair is a rather convincing test of popularity, and whether you have created a good arrangement.
Another favorite I have discovered for unusual containers is Cymbalaria muralis, the nostalgic Kenilworth ivy. I planted some in a small strawberry jar. Look at the jar from the right angle and it resembles a round-cheeked dwarf with a sparse green wig. I wish I could remember where I bought that jar—so many friends have wanted one. The “pawnbroker’s” planter cost five cents in a local junk shop. I also planted it with ivy.
Inexpensive hanging containers and wall brackets for miniatures are available in a wide variety at five-and-dime stores. But hanging baskets are not so easy to handle, as they must be suspended from wire or screwed to the wall. I’ve seen a doll’s hat used delightfully, and also some nice little woven baskets. Or try anything of metal or ceramic if it has a lip to hold a wire or chain—or a two-handled consommé bowl; or a soup ladle with its handle fastened to the wall. You can easily punch holes in most plastic containers—and without cracking—by using a red-hot awl or old-fashioned ice pick.
Pawnbroker’s planter set with ivy
Occasionally I have seen props or accessories used in these miniature plant-and-container compositions that were successful, but only occasionally were they in perfect scale and harmony. More frequently, the silk, wood, or ceramic butterfly, bee, or bird is an unnatural and disturbing intrusion.
Be careful when you water plants in decorative containers. If possible keep the plant in its original pot so it can be lifted from the container and taken to the sink, where excess water will drain away. Otherwise, hold off on your watering until you are positive the plant won’t wait any longer; then stop before the soil gets soggy and wet. Excess water, trapped by a container, can cause roots to rot, in fact will promote rot in most cases.
Be daring, be creative, be artistic when planning container projects and arrangements. If a fat little fern looks right for a teacup, let the cup be squat and fat; or let it be fluted gracefully and flared up to the delicate frond-fans. If a miniature orchid looks like a gem without a case, set it on pebbles in a clear crystal bowl; or perhaps invert a dome-shaped watch glass over it. If a succulent makes you think of a tough little gnome, for goodness sake don’t plant it in one of those grotesqueries which is the hump of a camel’s back or a cavity along the spinal column of a ceramic cat. (Remember how ridiculous a Venus stomach clock looks.) Use a little imagination. Perhaps you have something at hand—a droll bucket, a miniature fishing creel, a butter tub. Interesting containers make interesting compositions if you use good taste and imagination. Try to achieve the quality and feeling that the plant and container were “made for each other.”