Tag Archives: Abbie Jury

Magnolia delight

The roadside. On the far left is Honey Tulip and there is a Black Tulip also there that is not visible. Fairy Magnolia Cream, Serene, Iolanthe, Felix Jury, Athene and Fairy Magnolia Blush.

I see it was twelve years ago that I wrote about generous gardeners. Not those who readily share plants but those who plant up areas for other’s enjoyment. I remembered that article this week because of a beautiful stretch of roadside on the outskirts of our small town that I drive by almost every time I leave our property. It is a spectacular row of magnolias that goes from strength to strength every year. It edges grass paddocks where the owners graze a few stock.

Looking back from halfway along the row

The thing about this row of magnolias is that its purpose is to delight passers-by. The owners, Pat and Brian, can’t see it from their house which is on the adjacent section. Pat, in particular, is a keen gardener and they keep a detailed and heavily ornamented garden around the house but the row of magnolias is for the benefit of passing traffic, be it in vehicles or on foot.

Magnolia Athene
Fairy Magnolia Cream

I called in yesterday to ask their permission to share the photos and, with their usual generous spirit, they said ‘any time. Our garden is your garden’. I had thought I might ask Pat if I could photograph her but it was a rushed visit and I didn’t want to embarrass her. She commented that she thought the magnolias were better this year than ever before and many people are admiring them. “I tell everybody they are Abbie’s magnolias.”

Magnolia Felix Jury just finishing flowering in Pat and Brian’s roadside row

We have had this conversation before. What you have to understand is that this row of magnolias is not far off being a complete collection of Jury magnolias. In vain, do I tell her that they are Felix and Mark’s plants. In Pat’s mind, they are mine.

I do remember giving Pat this plant of Honey Tulip
Honey Tulip – Mark’s only yellow on the market. So far.

She remembers me giving her most of the plants. I remember giving her one and may have given her a few more but she was a very good customer of ours in the days when we used to retail plants. I have always admired Pat’s eye for a good plant. She lacks any curiosity about plants, rarely remembers names, won’t grow bulbs because they are untidy when they finish flowering but she has a good eye and picks out plants she likes solely on their appearance. She has a garden with plants like Camellia yuhsienensis, Rhododendron veitchianum and other choice varieties tucked in with garden centre utility options and plants she has picked up on special. I find her approach to gardening refreshingly honest and unpretentious while also being very capable.

Pat’s plant of Rhododendron veitchianum. It wasn’t until I got up close to it that I realised the striking colour contrast was cineraria.

What makes these magnolias interesting to us is that Pat and Brian garden very differently to how we do. The magnolias are planted in the open, exposed to pretty much every wind that blows. They are not mulched and the ground around them is kept bare. They are not trimmed or clipped. I would guess that they were well fertilised when getting established but are now left to their own devices. In those exposed, open conditions,  they are performing better than many of the ones we have here in our own garden which is sheltered from most winds.

Serene is one of Felix Jury’s lesser known hybrids but worthy of more attention. A later season magnolia, it is very lovely.

Wind is a big issue in this country of long thin islands set amidst vast oceans. Wind hardiness is a big factor in the selection of magnolias in our breeding programme. Petals that are of a softer, thinner texture and flower forms that are looser in structure fall apart when it blows hard. We see it every year on some of the magnolias here – particularly M. sprengeri ‘Diva’, M. sargentiana var. robusta and even the stellatas (star magnolias) and their hybrids. We have seen spectacular displays on some of these and similar magnolias in less windy countries – memorably in the Dandenongs in Australia and in the north of Italy. We don’t have that leeway here. So, it is interesting to see the Jury magnolias in very open conditions, still putting up mass displays of blooms that are largely untroubled by the many storm fronts that pass over in our early spring time.

A small plant of Magnolia Iolanthe with many OTT blooms

A few doors down from Pat and Brian’s home is a house with this little Magnolia ‘Iolanthe’ in bloom – showy enough for me to stop the car and photograph from the roadside. The plant can only have been in the ground two or three years and I haven’t noticed it in flower before, although there is a young plant of ‘Felix Jury’ a few metres away in the same garden that catches my eye when in flower, every time I drive past. But look at ‘Iolanthe’ strutting her stuff! I counted around 30 blooms and opening buds on this very small plant.

Magnolia Iolanthe

I am a big fan of front gardens and roadside plantings. They make the world a better place for us all, or at least for those of us who notice them.

STILL pruning…

It is an experience shared by most gardeners. I will just get this (smallish) job done and then go on to something else. And that smallish job expands from a few hours to days or even weeks. So it is with trimming camellias, about which I wrote last week. I am still doing it.

A rare sight these days – good flowers on Jury’s Pearl.

We don’t trim a lot of camellias, I thought to myself. And then I added them up. Excluding the camellia hedges – and there is a fair distance of those – I reached about 40 that get individual attention every year. That is not a lot compared to the number of camellias we have which must be several hundred, but it is still quite time consuming. Some we trim to be feature plants; some we trim to freeze them in size.

A relatively dry winter has meant we have had a better show this year. It doesn’t resemble the mass displays we used to get before the devastation wrought by camellia petal blight but there have been some pretty blooms. Most of our larger flowered camellias are retained as shelter, screening, wind breaks or their attractive form, certainly not for floral display because that is but a memory and the larger flowered types get hammered by petal blight. It means more work to ensure that in key spots in the garden, we have to make that attractive green form visually effective in order to justify keeping them. We have a strong preference for the small flowered varieties which do still put on a good show. And autumn flowering sasanquas, of course but they are long finished.

Fairy Wand has been reduced to a skeleton and we may drop it lower yet. We try and keep a good framework when we are cutting camellias very hard, not cutting off at ground level.
That is A LOT of Fairy Wand piled up to be mulched

Camellia ‘Fairy Wand’ started life as a miniature back in the days when miniature only applied to the flower size and not, as most people assumed, growth habit. Bred by Os Blumhardt in Whangarei, Mark planted it, ‘Gay Baby’ and ‘Tiny Star’, also from the same breeder, beside our driveway. After about 40 years, they were all about six metres tall and in a decidedly leggy state, with wayward branches being cut off to keep the driveway clear. We stagger our extreme pruning here. ‘Tiny Star’ was cut back two years and is now a bushy little column shape about two metres tall. This week was ‘Fairy Wand’s’ turn for drastic treatment. ‘Gay Baby’ will be done at some stage in the next two years, when ‘Fairy Wand’ has rejuvenated. We don’t want a row of three massacred plants. It took Zach all of an hour to cut back the Fairy and about the same length of time for Lloyd to mulch it up for wood chip.

Taking Fairy Wand down behind gives this tableau of clipped camellias a whole lot more impact, especially the cloud-pruned sasanqua Elfin Rose. We are now thinking of dropping Fairy Wand behind even lower so it stays below the cloud pruning.

As an aside, it is possible to rejuvenate most michelias in the same manner. You do need to start with plants that are growing strongly because if they aren’t, the shock may kill them but we have, upon occasion, cut michelias as ruthlessly to promote bushy fresh growth.

Itty Bit in the centre after being reduced in size by about 40%

While Zach may only have taken an hour on ‘Fairy Wand’, I have spent many hours on others and that is because we want the form and shape on a healthy plant. I probably removed about 40% of ‘Itty Bit’ to reach this stage.

Camellia Hakuhan-kujaku – a shadow of its former self

It took me ages to get ‘Hakuhan-kujaku’, the peacock camellia, to this state. I took out at least 60% of it and it looks a whole lot better for the time spent. Shapely, not hacked or massacred.

Camellia minutiflora front right, Itty Bit behind

Little C. minutiflora is one of my absolute favourites, though hard to get photographs that do it justice so you will just have to take my word that it is a little charmer. It is a more recent planting so I probably only took 25% off it. At least it will only be a tidy-up trim for the next few years until there is so much congested growth and crossed branches that it is time to spend hours laboriously picking over every branch again.

My secateurs and pruning saw are my best friends at the moment. If you are wondering where to start on this type of pruning, I start by looking at the plant from every angle. Because we are trying to keep the plants from getting tall and leggy, I first take out growths on top that are going straight up instead of bushing out sideways. Then I work around the perimeter, reducing the spread, always trimming growth flush to the branch or trunk. Then I get into the middle and take out crossing branches. Finally, I get underneath and trim from below, making sure there is cover across the top while taking out surplus growths and branches below. I spend a lot of time looking and tracing where main branches go. This is why it takes time.

Look! Just look at this exquisite little chaffinch nest lined in soft feathers. Must the chaffinches start all over again because we humans destroyed their nest? Disclaimer – this one was blown down in a storm.

At this time of the year, I remember the warning from friend and colleague, Glyn Church. Pruning needs to be finished very soon on taller trees and shrubs. The birds are nest building and will be laying eggs. Unless you are okay with destroying days of hard work by individual birds and killing off their young, time is of the essence.

They are just common, pesky blackbirds but it still does not feel right to kill them for human convenience or by human carelessness.
A tui nest.

Gardening in the ruins

Not Christchurch. The Garden of Ninfa in Italy.

Poor old Christchurch cathedral is back in the news. Badly damaged in the devastating earthquakes of 2010 and 2011, its future again hangs in the balance as money for the restoration has dried up, with substantial shortfall of $89 million – at current prices but likely to rise.

In the 1880s on the left and in 2001 on the right. Photo credits Wiki Commons.

Christchurch’s Anglican cathedral is a key building in the heart of the central city square. Built in the neo-Gothic style in the years between 1864 and 1904, it immediately became an iconic image of that city.

A haunting image taken 30 minutes after the 2011 earthquake (Wiki Commons)

I have no personal opinion on the right or best option for the future of the badly damaged building. I can understand the desire for restoration from some parties. Christchurch lost so much of its history as a result of the earthquakes and this is one of its most significant, historic buildings. Its flamboyance harks back to earlier times before the stodgy utilitarianism of most modern structures.  On the other hand, I can see the point of view of the Anglican church, that their focus is on caring for the living, not preserving architectural history at huge expense financially. The post-earthquake reconstruction required throughout much of the city was incredibly expensive, stretching both government and local body resources and those financial resources have now dried up. While historic buildings are important, the reconstruction of sewage pipes, water and power takes precedence, followed by the need for new homes for the many displaced people.

I visited Christchurch in 2013 and saw some of the damage first hand, but just from a domestic, suburban point of view. The inner city remained largely closed off. The sheer scale of destruction was hard to comprehend. My well-travelled Christchurch gardening friend and I had discussions about how the cathedral could be made safe, preserved as a ruin and gardened. We had both seen similar scenarios in Europe. But we knew our idea was romantic fantasy at the time.

Ninfa, again. Built around a larger village than Torrecchia shown further down the page.
Ninfa again.

For the rest of the country, the earthquakes are already just a memory – but Christchurch is left with a ruined cathedral in the heart of the city, a constant reminder of what happened, now with no solution in sight.

Of the possible options for the cathedral, the current situation of stopping restoration mid-flight seems the worst possible one. Fully restored, the city square would have been returned to its pre-quake status. Demolition would have given the option of replacing the old cathedral with a new building in an exciting, contemporary architectural style marking the new era. Of course, it might also have led to the building of a utilitarian monstrosity of no architectural merit at all but public opinion may have had some sway on a replacement. But to be left with a ruined cathedral, shut off from the public and surrounded by the detritus of a building project sitting in limbo just seems like a continuing reminder of the destructive earthquakes with nothing positive in sight.

Torrecchia Vecchia in Italy, built around the ruins of a village
Torrecchia Vecchia again

Maybe those discussion my friend and I had back in 2013 are not so far-fetched at all. It had me delving back through my photo files for images of gardening amongst ruins. I am still a bit sad that Covid cancelled our 2020 trip when we planned to get to Lowther Castle in East Cumbria. We knew Dan Pearson, a UK designer whose work we admire greatly, had an ongoing project creating gardens around a ruin. I can’t find photos I can download without breaching copyright but it is worth clicking through this link to get a view of that project which looks both grand and romantic. I would love to have seen it in person.

Britain and Europe are littered with ruins. I have never forgotten a garden we visited, overlooking Lake Stresa in Italy. At the top of the garden were stone ruins – a Roman fort, no less. As in Ancient Roman. Christchurch cathedral doesn’t have that antiquity – but neither does Lowther Castle.

Ruins of the former grand house at Trentham near Stoke-on-Trent in the UK. It was all barricaded when we visited in 2017 but I am sure I read that there were plans to make the ruins safe and then extend the gardens into that area.

If it is still a roped-off building site in ten years time, or if hope dies of raising the funds to complete the restoration, maybe, just maybe, memorialising the site with a garden in the ruins will be an idea whose time has come in this country, too. It took 40 years to build, so I guess the 13 years it has been an unsafe, dangerous building may have a while to run yet.

The Palatine in Rome – more gently controlled serendipity than active gardening
Villa Ariadne in Tivoli, near Rome. All serendipity here on a huge site of ruins but no less charming for that.

A postscript comment from Christchurch gardener, artist and garden writer, Robyn Kilty: It’s tragic Abbie! I have been to Ninfa too, and wondered if the Italian solution would work for Christchurch! Remembering that Ninfa is a much larger area- a village – with a most picturesque stream running through it, whereas the Square in Christchurch is an urban built up area with no stream, not much history, and surrounded by hard grey concrete. There is a small grassed area nearby, which is completely out of scale, but still, a Memorial garden of some sort would be preferable to the nothingness and the ugly temporary scaffolding that is meant to prop up what is left of the ruin. This seems destined to be the fate of the centre of Christchurch ad infinitum.

The trouble is that there has been and still is, such indecision around the whole sad situation – groups for and against restoration and at the time of the earthquake, a bishop from Canada with no vision and no cultural links to Christchurch, yet representing the Anglican community who appeared to hold all the power. She was in favour of demolishing the ruin and replacing it with a beach!!

As the current work to make the ruin safe has progressed, it is uncovering more and more structural damage that is more extensive and deep-seated than originally thought, so that sadly the cost of continuing to restore the Cathedral has become prohibitive, and with costs rising all the time, it is beyond the Anglican community and now the government. Even if it had been financially achievable, the feeling is that pouring more millions of dollars into restoration would still only result in a kind of ‘fake’ cathedral, where modern construction methods and materials could never replace the 19th century original anyway.

While some type of memorial garden amongst the ruins seems to be a solution, could it ever be like Ninfa, or even Lowther Castle, as our ruins are just a sort of small, out of scale aberration in the centre of the Square in Christchurch, surrounded by concrete. Imagine orange and yellow African marigolds gracing the centre of Christchurch where a cathedral once stood. Or perhaps that would be fitting after all, as we are told that the Christchurch Cathedral was mediocre in design anyway compared to grander Cathedrals in Europe and not worthy of restoration. Oh dear – why did our Victorian city fathers build their dream of an english city with a mediocre english cathedral at it’s core – on a far flung earthquake prone swamp??

Sorry, I’ve not left this comment on your Comments page, but that doesn’t seem to work for me – probably because I don’t press the right buttons.

I would make three points in reply to Robyn:

  1. It is all in the scale. Yes the cathedral site is one building, not an entire village but that is a design and scale issue, not a concept problem.
  2. Given the track record of the cathedral in earthquakes, maybe a rethink is needed. “Earthquakes have repeatedly damaged the building (mostly the spire): in 1881, 1888, 1901, 1922, and 2010. The February 2011 Christchurch earthquake destroyed the spire and the upper portion of the tower, and severely damaged the rest of the building.” (Wikipedia)
  3. Not African marigolds! Nevair! And preferably not tulips either, but that is personal taste.

Odd crops

Hakeke at the top with white oyster mushroom below

We are timid eaters of assorted mushrooms and fungi in this country, having been raised with a healthy fear of death cap mushrooms which look so innocent and edible. Generally we have a choice of brown Portobello mushrooms or white button mushrooms at the supermarket, so I leapt at the chance to try fresh oyster mushrooms when I saw them at the local farmers’ market.

We were a bit underwhelmed, which was disappointing. More textural than tasty, one might say. I decided to taste test the remaining ones beside the flabby brown fungus that grows freely around here and which played a very significant role in the early colonisation of Taranaki, where we live.

I am not sure that I have unravelled the complicated nomenclature of this flabby brown fungus. Mark has always known it as ‘woodear fungus’ but that is wrong. I couldn’t commit the original Maori name to my memory – hakekakeka – but it seems that is now synonymous with hakeke, which I can remember easily. It belongs to the Auricularia group, and it may be correctly identified as A. cornea but that seems to be interchanged freely with A. polytricha, which it probably shouldn’t. They are not synonymous. Anyway, it is common here and safe to eat. If you want to.

Mark found me some hakeke from the garden for my flavour experiment. I sliced both that and the oyster mushrooms into thin strips and cooked them in butter with a touch of olive oil (to stop the butter from burning) and some finely diced garlic, using separate frypans.

The verdict? Compared to the hakeke, the oyster mushroom was flavourful but it was the garlic butter that was the tastiest by a long shot. The hakeke is purely textural. The only use I could see for it in times when food is plentiful, is fried until it is crisp and then used as a garnish on, say, fried rice. I don’t think I will be adding it to our diet on a regular basis, even though we can gather it for free.

Wasabi in flower beneath the orange trees. With self-sown forget-me-nots.

We were given a small division of a wasabi plant last year. Despite the internet saying it was difficult to grow, we hit on ideal spot (fertile soil with overhead cover from a couple of orange trees) and the clump has grown. I could see some evidence of the swollen tubers that are the part that is grated to eat so I dug it up, only to find I was being a bit optimistic. It seems it is a two or three year crop in our conditions, to get big enough tubers to grate. We now have seven divisions, five replanted and two shared with others. 

You can see the tuberous parts forming which are the edible parts but I didn’t want to sacrifice too much of the plant by harvesting too early

Interestingly, I doubt that I have eaten genuine wasabi before. Outside of Japan, most of what is sold as wasabi paste is in fact horseradish, mustard and green food colouring. I did grate one little bit to try but it was too small a volume to detect subtle differences in quality and taste. It tasted wasabi-ish. I am sure that in time, freshly grated wasabi will lift my summer sushi to a new level.

Salted limes. In the past, I have done them whole but quartering them makes no difference and more fit to a jar.

In the kitchen, I am curing a jar of salted limes. I have been doing these for years to use in cooking, particularly in Middle Eastern and southern European dishes. They also add flavour when cooking grains like wheat, be it freekeh or bulgar, quinoa, rice or couscous. I dropped couscous when I realised how processed it is, but if you eat it, I can recommend adding a finely chopped salted lemon or lime to give it flavour. Limes and lemons are interchangeable when it comes to salting; I just use limes as they turn yellow because we have more and they are a better size if I am salting them whole, rather than quartered as here. The brine is so strong that they last up to a year in the fridge.

Fermented artichokes – I just looked up several recipes on line and worked out the general drift rather than keeping to one. Delicious raw in salads – and more digestible.

Salt also plays a role in fermenting foods. I have just completed a small jar of fermented Jerusalem artichokes and the reason to ferment this crop is that the process breaks down the inulin to a more easily digested form. It is the inulin that is responsible for this crop oft being referred to as  fartichokes. Fermenting means that you can eat, sweet, crispy artichokes without the unpleasant after effects. I like the taste of artichokes and they are heavy croppers for minimal to no effort but my stomach did not like them at all. Hence the fermentation. I did a big jar last year but we didn’t eat them fast enough and they don’t store as well as salted lemons. When some questionable moulds formed, I threw out the rest but I think we will get through the smaller jar.

Huhu grubs – reputed to taste a little like peanut butter

I have my limits. I know that huhu grubs, as we know them, were eaten in earlier times but I could not bring myself to gather these, even when I discovered a plentiful supply in a rotting stump. Huhu are a long horned beetle endemic to this country. We were often faced with a plate of cooked insects in the elaborate meals we were served in China and I did try a few. I think it is a cultural thing and it would take me a while to get over my gag reflex and to normalise eating insects, even while I know that they could be a valuable protein source and more environmentally sustainable than animal farming. If I am going to eat insects, I would rather start with them in a more anonymous form – cricket flour, perhaps – rather than launching straight into foraging at home and putting live, squirming bugs into a hot frying pan. I fed them to the birds.

The food we were served in China often included a plate of insects.

The legacy of Magnolia ‘Lanarth’ and modest Magnolia liliiflora ‘Nigra’

Not the best photo but I can assure you it was the best sight on its day – looking through trees to ‘Lanarth’ in the distance

As I paused to admire the glorious purple of Magnolia ‘Lanarth’ through the trees, the thought occurred to me that the vast majority of the red magnolias raised and released around the world since the mid 1980s have descended from this particular tree down by the stream in our park. Some are several generations down the line but they trace their genes back to our tree.

Our plant of Magnolia campbelllii var mollicomata ‘Lanarth’

Botanically, our Magnolia ‘Lanarth’ is the form distributed by leading UK nursery, Hilliers, back in the 1960s, Magnolia campbellii var. mollicomata ‘Lanarth’. Felix Jury imported it at considerable expense and thank goodness he did.

Magnolia liliiflora Nigra – red but otherwise unremarkable
and the shrubby tree of M liliiflora Nigra at about 60 years of age. It flowers later in the season so we think must have been the mother of the red hybrids, not the pollen donor.

To be fair, it wasn’t just ‘Lanarth’ that launched the platform for new generations of red magnolias. The plant of Magnolia liliiflora ‘Nigra’ in the garden border behind our house was the other parent, almost certainly the seed-setter. In the heady world of magnolias, liliiflora is not a showstopper. Our plant is more sturdy shrub than tree, the blooms are not large, typical liliiflora form which is not showy and the flower colour has none of the rich glow that magnolias can have. But it is red both inside and outside on the petals. Mark tells me we are reputed to have a particularly good form of liliiflora ‘Nigra’ in this country in terms of its solid red bloom without the inner petal being white.

Breeders and enthusiasts around the world had been trying to create good red magnolias before, like the optimistically named ‘Chyverton Red’,  ‘Pickard’s Ruby’ and ‘Pickard’s Garnet’. We have one example here but I only have one tiny photo of it and I have just found out that the name we have on it is wrong. I will have to take more notice of it when it flowers this year and try and work out what it is, only out of curiosity because it is not remarkable.  

Felix looked at his plant of ‘Lanarth’ and wondered if he could get a good-sized, red campbellii-type flower. He had already done his other breeding to reach ‘Iolanthe’, ‘Milky Way’, ‘Athene’ and the other four Felix Jury cultivars. And so he created ‘Vulcan’, a breakthrough in its day. ‘Lanarth’ contributed the flower size and form, solid colour inside and out but also the translucence, tree form and scent. M. liliiflora ‘Nigra’ contributed solid colour, smaller tree stature and, importantly, red.

Magnolia ‘Vulcan’ this morning

We first released ‘Vulcan’ in 1989, in that wonderfully under-stated way of that era. I don’t think we sent any plant material overseas at the time but bits of it soon winged their way around the world and the rest, as they say, is history. ‘Vulcan’ is not without its flaws. It flowers too early for frosty areas (as does ‘Lanarth’); it only achieves its density and purity of colour in warmer climates and even then tends to fade out to murky purple as the season progresses. But for its time, it was a breakthrough. It was the only plant we ever released that we could track its flowering from north to south of the country by the telephone calls we received. Even today, 35 years on, it is a showstopper at its best. I had two young tradeswomen painters in a couple of weeks ago and one of them asked me about the ‘black magnolia’ as she spotted the first buds opening, declaring she had never seen anything like it before.

Our mailorder catalogue from 1989

Felix didn’t go any further with breeding magnolias after ‘Vulcan’ but encouraged Mark in turn. And it was Mark who created the next generation which included ‘Black Tulip’ and ‘Felix Jury’.  Other NZ breeders followed suit – notably Vance Hooper and Ian Baldick.

It seems that ‘Black Tulip’ and Felix Jury’ have become two of the more significant breeder parents around the world. I see many, many red seedlings on international magnolia pages and they are clearly descended from those early red hybrids here.

Magnolia ‘Vulcan’

Felix named one red magnolia, Mark has named and released three but there is a fourth in the pipeline. We are hoping it will be ready for release internationally next year or maybe 2026. We describe it as a ‘Vulcan’ upgrade. It flowers a little later and has an exceptionally long blooming season and is a different hue of red, without a tendency to the purple undertones inherited from ‘Lanarth’. Solid colour and cup and saucer form which is our preference – it stands out here as good and we have high hopes for it across a range of climates. I won’t share photos until we have a release date.

Magnolia campbelli var mollicomata ‘Lanarth’

The new selection also traces its origin to the lovely ‘Lanarth’ in our park. That ‘Lanarth’ originated from a seed collection by plant hunter, George Forrest, in 1924 in southeastern China, near the Burmese border. Only three seed germinated back in the UK and this one was the best, named for the garden where it was raised in Cornwall. Those are quite long odds for what turned out to be such a significant plant.

While we may only have named and released four red magnolias from the Garden of Jury, with one more to come, we have many, many magnolias on the property that come from the same breeding lines. This lovely one that won’t be selected for release is another seedling from the batch that gave both ‘Black Tulip’ and ‘Felix Jury’.