Tag Archives: Mark and Abbie Jury

The Golden Camellias of China and Vietnam

It was raining at Foshan Institute of Forestry Science where they have extensive plantings of yellow species, mainly C. nitidissima. It is thought that the flowers face downwards and are nestled beneath the foliage to protect them from the heavy raindrops they would receive in their forest habitat.

It was raining at Foshan Institute of Forestry Science where they have extensive plantings of yellow species, mainly C. nitidissima. It is thought that the flowers face downwards and are nestled beneath the foliage to protect them from the heavy raindrops they would receive in their forest habitat.

There was a fine specimen of C. nitidissima in the Confucian temple gardens in Dali. The heavy textured buds look more like hanging fruit than emerging flowers. Our plant at Tikorangi has never bloomed this freely.

There was a fine specimen of C. nitidissima in the Confucian temple gardens in Dali. The heavy textured buds look more like hanging fruit than emerging flowers. Our plant at Tikorangi has never bloomed this freely.

While we talk about yellow camellias, in China they refer to golden camellias, often in tones of reverence and awe.

Camellia Jury's Yellow on the honours table at the national camellia show in Dali

Camellia Jury’s Yellow on the honours table at the national camellia show in Dali

By the time Mark Jury (yes, my Mark) started breeding camellias, his renowned camellia-breeding uncle, Les Jury, was quite elderly and happy to share his experience and goals. It seems remarkable that 45 years after he first registered ‘Jury’s Yellow’, it is still widely grown and sold and we even saw it on the honours table at the National Camellia Show in China in February. ‘Gwenneth Morey’ and ‘Brushfield’s Yellow’ are Australian camellias of that era also heading down the yellow camellia path, but it seems that Les’s version is the one with staying power.

None of these breeders of the 1960s and 70s had access to yellow species. They would not even have known of their existence, but always there is that quest to extend the colour range. Les explained to Mark that he thought it might be possible to get the golden stamens to bleed colour into the petaloids (the tiny petals that comprise the centre of an anemone-formed camellia). It worked. These early three yellows all have pale lemon coloured centres with the outer circles of petals remaining white. They were colour breaks in their time but they all originated from white japonicas. The trouble was that there really was nowhere else to go from there, in breeding terms, to try and intensify the yellow.

Enter the yellow species. Even I can remember the waves of excitement in the camellia world when C. chrysantha became available. Suddenly it appeared that there would be a huge range of new directions in camellias. Don’t hold your breath. It ain’t that easy and it is not for want of trying. After maybe fifty years and probably hundreds of thousands of crosses, there haven’t been many encouraging results out of China. Japanese breeders have been very active without many results and we have never heard of anything coming from other international breeders.

The Best in Show award went to a yellow hybrid

The Best in Show award went to a yellow hybrid

‘New Century’ shows good colour but it was not possible to tell if the bloom opens more than this specimen in the show

‘New Century’ shows good colour but it was not possible to tell if the bloom opens more than this specimen in the show

True, the Best in Show award at the Chinese nationals went to a fine yellow hybrid and there was another promising yellow coloured bloom called ‘New Century’ on the table. But those are cut flowers looked at in isolation. There are many other factors to be taken into account to determine garden worthiness. We also saw a few other results from breeding programmes – one flushed palest yellow with pink on the outer petals. It was a hybrid but not of great note. Others just seemed to throw to the japonica parentage. Kunming camellia breeder, Shen Yunguang, said that she was crossing the yellows with a white japonica – the latter will be to get greater size and floriferous characteristics – but the yellow species do not appear to be keen to cross with other types.

The Chinese national camellia show was staged in a temple in the heart of Dali Old Town. The yellow cultivars stood out amongst the more usual pinks, reds and whites

The Chinese national camellia show was staged in a temple in the heart of Dali Old Town. The yellow cultivars stood out amongst the more usual pinks, reds and whites

If it is possible to get a range of good yellow hybrids, the Chinese will do it but I doubt that it is imminent. What about orange ones? Can the next generation look forward to yellow camellias being crossed with red ones, to give a new colour altogether? International yellow camellia expert, Dr George Orel is pretty sure it can’t happen because of the incompatible genetic codes between the yellows and the reds. I am sure it is not for want of trying but the yellows are notoriously difficult in hybridising.

I asked Mark if he saw breeding potential in the new species that are still being discovered. He shrugged his shoulders and said, from his point of view, no. They are tropical, too tropical for New Zealand. He is also realistic enough to know that if the Chinese and major international breeders from other countries have found them hugely difficult to cross with other camellias, it will be a fluke if a minor breeder in another part of the world comes up with something worthwhile. It is just as well he doesn’t want the newly discovered species because with our closed borders, bringing in a new species of anything is devilishly expensive and difficult.

Camellia nitidissima (or chrysantha) – the one good flowering we have had on our plant in 2011

Camellia nitidissima (or chrysantha) – the one good flowering we have had on our plant in 2011

Chrysantha or nitidissima?
The most common yellow species in the west and, I understand, the one widely used for flower tea in China was originally distributed under the name of Camellia chrysantha. It is now more usually named as C. nitidissima syn chrysantha – in other words, you can use either name but nitidissima has precedence. We bought it from Neville Haydon at Camellia Haven as soon as it became available. It has handsome bullate foliage – heavily veined and textured leaves – but in all the years since we have had it, I think it has only flowered well once. It wasn’t helped by a pear tree falling upon it but it has reached quite a large size and is now at least 20 years old, if not more. The other yellow species we have here have never bloomed. This is not to say that they won’t bloom in other parts of the country, at least further north.

Collectors’ plants vs good garden plants
The yellow species are what I would call collectors’ plants – really interesting to have and exciting when they flower. But good garden plants? Not so much. All the species I saw had small flowers and not that many of them at any one time. The flowers usually face downwards and are on the underside of the branches. They are also quite picky about growing conditions and many were sparse in foliage. A good garden plant is a reliable performer that will delight your average home gardener and, with camellias, that means a reasonably long season of mass blooming. This is why there is so much interest in creating good hybrids. If you want to grow any of the yellow species, remember that these are understory plants of the forest, growing in humus-rich soils. They need overhead shade but also sufficient light to enable them to set flower buds.

Shen Yunguang is responsible for managing the covered house that contains the yellow camellia species at Kunming Botanic Gardens, where it is too cold to grow them outdoors. While it appears more usual to use the yellow species as the pollen donor, she is also trying to cross using them as seed setter. The hanging pink labels mark her crosses. To the left is Professor Wang Zhonglang from Kunming Botanical Institute

Shen Yunguang is responsible for managing the covered house that contains the yellow camellia species at Kunming Botanic Gardens, where it is too cold to grow them outdoors. While it appears more usual to use the yellow species as the pollen donor, she is also trying to cross using them as seed setter. The hanging pink labels mark her crosses. To the left is Professor Wang Zhonglang from Kunming Botanical Institute

C. chuongtsoensis (photo by Tony Barnes)

C. chuongtsoensis (photo by Tony Barnes)

C. longzhouensis (photo by Tony Barnes)

C. longzhouensis (photo by Tony Barnes)

C. impressinervis (photo by Tony Barnes)

C. impressinervis (photo by Tony Barnes)

Camellia nitidissima was first described and named in 1948. In 1960, a wild population was found growing near the southern border of China with Vietnam and it was named C. chrysantha (hence the two names). It wasn’t until the 1980s that the west realised there was a yellow camellia species and it remains the only one commercially available in any significant numbers.
However, since the 1980s, there has been an explosion of interest in yellow species and modern day plant explorers are continuing to find new ones, particularly in Vietnam. It is a fluid situation. There appear to be anything between 28 and 60 different yellow species. It is likely that some will be reclassified as variants on existing species while new ones will continue to be identified. There are at least six notable public collections of yellow camellias in Chinese institutions. I visited the one at Kunming Botanic Gardens where they are grown under cover. We also saw extensive outdoor plantings in Foshan near Guangzhou. The differences in flower form between species are not great to the untrained eye. All appear to have small blooms around 4cm across, usually semi double (two rows of petals) with a large boss of golden stamens in the centre. The heavy substance of the petals is remarkable, making them look waxed and solid.

 Tea made from the golden flowers was served to us on a number of occasions and is very pretty


Tea made from the golden flowers was served to us on a number of occasions and is very pretty

Drying the flowers and buds for tea in Foshan

Drying the flowers and buds for tea in Foshan

When we talk about new species being discovered, we should remind ourselves that this is being discovered by botanists. Local residents will have known about these plants throughout history. Tea made from the golden camellia flowers is widely served on ceremonial occasions and is now a commercial venture. It seems unlikely it only dates back to the 1980s.

What does golden camellia tea taste like, you may wonder. Subtle, is all I can say. Beautiful to look at, with a subtle floral aroma and taste.

Artist Xinger Li with her lovely painting titled (in English) ‘Chinese Camellia with Dense Dew”

Artist Xinger Li with her lovely painting titled (in English) ‘Chinese Camellia with Dense Dew”

 The foliage on C. impressinervis, as on C. nitidissima and some of the other species, is heavily veined and textured (called bullate)

The foliage on C. impressinervis, as on C. nitidissima and some of the other species, is heavily veined and textured (called bullate)

First published in New Zealand Gardener and reprinted here with their permission. 

Stop press: one of our other yellow species in the garden here has set flower buds for the first time, after maybe fifteen or twenty years. We will be watching it closely and now we just have to try and unravel which species it is. The label has long since gone. 

A Red Letter Day

The wretched power lines draped across our park

The wretched power lines draped across our park

Yesterday was a red letter day here. The electricity lines that crossed over the area we call the park were removed. Those lines had nothing to do with us. Our power comes from another line. Back when electricity was first laid on for the district, the publicly owned supplier took a shortcut across our property with a very long span between poles. When there is a long span, the lines get far more of a sway on them. In the decades since, the lines were sold to a private company and our trees grew. And grew. Most of the problem trees were planted by Mark’s father, Felix, who seriously miscalculated how tall they would grow but left the problem to the next generation.

Mark had been getting increasingly anxious about the trees and the power lines. Some trees, like the magnolias, could have branches removed without destroying the tree but we are talking about the upper reaches of an extension ladder to access those branches.

Michelia doltsopa 'Rusty' reaching into the wires

Michelia doltsopa ‘Rusty’ reaching into the wires

Even Magnolia doltsopa ‘Rusty’, though planted on the lowest point, was into the wires. This is a grand specimen and we were reluctant to start interfering with its magnificent stature.  I see I calculated in the past that ‘Rusty’ takes up around 300 square metres of ground area, growing from a single central leader. It can now attain its potential mature size and height.

Pinus montezumae has had a reprieve from its death sentence

Pinus montezumae has had a reprieve from its death sentence

More problematic were the conifers. It is not possible to take the central leader out of a conifer and keep a good tree. Indeed, Pinus montezumae was going to have to be removed entirely. Then there were the next trees just out from the lines but at risk of downing them should they fall. The handsome metasequoia or dawn redwood is about 30 metres high but still a juvenile at only 65 years or so. We were always worried that its grip on the ground may not be that good and, should it fall the wrong way, it would bring down the wires. Indeed, the wires have been brought down twice in our time here – both times by falling poplars that were planted long before electricity lines were strung through the area.

IMG_8367But no more. Yesterday the lines were removed as part of an upgrade on that particular section. We could not be more delighted. And relieved. At least some of the trees should now be free to grow to their maximum size and maturity long past our lifetime.

Dropping the lines yesterday

Dropping the lines yesterday

Plant Collector: Camellia amplexicaulis

Camellia amplexicaulis

Camellia amplexicaulis

We missed the opportunity to buy Camellia amplexicaulis the one time it was offered commercially in New Zealand. That was by Peter Cave, before he closed down his nursery, if my memory serves me right. And when we saw it in China, we were disappointed that we had not picked it up at the time – though at least it is in the country so we should be able to get a scion at some stage.

It is one of the tropical camellias, a relatively recent discovery in Vietnam. We saw it growing outdoors at the botanic gardens* in Foshan, amongst the yellow camellia collection which is similarly tropical. It was reasonably substantial – a handsome, large shrub at maybe 2.5 metres tall. The foliage was striking with huge, lush, textured leaves while the flowers had very thick petals. The information board below said it flowered from summer to autumn and sometimes all year round. This would be because it is a tropical plant from a climate without marked seasonal change. We were viewing blooms in early spring.

Camellia amplexicaulis in bud

Camellia amplexicaulis in bud

At Kunming Botanic Gardens, it was growing in a covered house with the yellow species. Presumably it is too cold in winter for it to be grown outdoors there (Foshan is coastal while Kunming is inland). The buds have a similar tight, round ball form to the yellow species – more on those in an upcoming article.

Whether our mild, temperate climate would suit Camellia amplexicaulis is not certain. We have trouble getting the tropical yellow species to bloom here. But it is such a handsome and interesting camellia that it is worth a try. And if it does flower here, it may bloom outside peak petal blight season and the heavy texture of the blooms means it would not be as prone to weather damage as many other softer textured camellias.

Not quite a forestry institute as we understand it - Foshan

Not quite a forestry institute as we understand it – Foshan


*I refer to the botanic gardens in Foshan though the official itinerary names it as the Institute of Forestry Science. While we associate forestry with commercial production of Pinus radiata in this country, the southern Chinese forests contain many wild camellias and the forestry institutes appear to have a conservation responsibility for indigenous plants.

Rekindling childhood memories of chestnuts

IMG_8187 - CopyIt is chestnut season.

I have childhood memories of roasting chestnuts on the fire, for I had a Dunedin childhood and an English mother. It was a seasonal treat, handling burning hot chestnuts to peel off the outer skin (usually burnt on one side) and then dipping them in butter and sprinkling with salt. As she bought the nuts at the fruiterer, it was always a bit of a lucky dip as to whether the one you had was going bad or not. These nuts have a short shelf life.

Mark too has childhood memories of gathering chestnuts from a neighbour’s tree but he recalls boiling them and then carrying them in his pocket as snack food. There was nothing, he says, like reaching into your pocket after school and finding a few chestnuts you had forgotten about.

This year we have been given free access to a couple of trees nearby and there are nuts in abundance. I realised that the difference in our childhood memories is that Dunedin has a colder climate so the chestnut season coincides with the lighting of winter fires. Here in the milder north, we have not yet started winter fires, which is probably why Mark had only tried boiled chestnuts when I met him. These nuts we are gathering are large and very fresh – no nasty surprises with the flesh going off. The trees will be named selections and the ease of handling larger nuts has convinced us that if you are going to plant a tree, it is worth paying the extra to get one which has been selected for its larger nuts.

We ate a dish in China recently of meatballs and chestnuts in a casserole and this inspired us to harvest more to freeze and eat later.  Chestnuts are not the easiest crop to prepare. We have taken to parboiling them which means the hard outer casing can be peeled off (we cut the top point and then insert a sharp vegetable knife to lever off the casing) but the inner brown covering is not so easy to get rid of. Parboiling means the kernel holds its shape and we are freezing them at this stage. Gently frying or roasting them in a mixture of butter and oil and then adding a sprinkling of salt makes them delicious. I put some in a tagine over the weekend but the long slow cooking broke down the kernels. To keep the texture and shape, I will add them in the last 15 minutes of cooking in the future.

We had thought they would offer an additional source of protein in our diet, but I see online that they are basically all carbohydrate with very little protein or fat so really they are a taste and textural addition.

The edible chestnut grown here is the European tree – Castanea sativa. It is not to be confused (but still is by some folk) with the horse chestnut which is an aesculus. There is a similarity in appearance of the nuts but that is all. Horse chestnuts are inedible and moderately toxic though, in another memory dredged from my childhood, they are used in the game of conkers which we used to play. With a hole drilled through the centre and then suspended on a short string, they became a weapon to assault a similar conker held stationary by the adversary. The winner was the one whose conker did not split. My brother always won, as I recall.

The horse chestnut is a very decorative tree. We have the smaller growing Aesculus x carnea in our park and it is particularly pretty in flower with its red plumes. Water chestnuts (Eleocharis dulcis) are different again, being a grassy reed or sedge, traditionally grown in water. They are not a nut because what are eaten are the nodules on the roots. Apparently it is in New Zealand and Mark has a yen to try growing them when we track down a plant.

Postcards of China 1.

Random thoughts and snippets as I sort the photos from our recent trip to southern China. .

IMG_7640Ping ducks! Not the Yangtze River, but as soon as I saw these ducks, I recalled The Story About Ping. It dates back to 1933 so I am guessing it was part of my childhood. We certainly read it to our children and it must be in the bookcase somewhere to this day.  I was shocked, shocked I tell you, that none of the others around me at the time had ever heard of Ping. They must have had deprived childhoods is all I can say. Ping ducks in China were a delight. I bought a little Chinese bird whistle – the sort where you blow through water and get bird warble rather than a piercing squeak – to gift with the book to our grandson in due course. (The Story About Ping by Marjorie Flack and illustrated by Kurt Wiese.)

Foshan (34)

Modern Foshan

Modern Foshan

Modern China is a country of huge contrast. We started in Foshan, a satellite city of Guangzhou. Our guide told us that it had pretty much been rebuilt in the last five years and there was little of the original remaining. It was full of contemporary buildings, some very sculptural. So when we visited a nursery, and I came across their potting team at work in the rain, it was like a glimpse back in time. Low tech does not really describe it. There does not appear to be a strong workers’ rights movement in play here. Obviously we pampered our staff far too much when we were still running the nursery here.

Jinghong (8)Sometimes Mark can surprise me with his knowledge. “It’s a tabebuia,” he said when he looked at this photo, though he had never seen one in real life. He then had second thoughts and wondered if it is Tecoma stans. A search on Wikipedia has us leaning to the tabebuia because it was more tree than shrub. Both tecoma and tabebuia are in the bignoniaceae family so there is a familial connection between them though they are not close relatives. The big yellow trumpets were a delight in the sub tropical climate of Jinghong, at a temple beside the Mekong River in Southern China.

IMG_7597Ha! Under planting can be as crass, random and ill thought out in China as in New Zealand. When I visited a group of open gardens at home, I noticed that the under planting was a major weakness but I did not feel able to use the photos I took because the owners might well recognise their place and feel hurt and betrayed – even if I did not name the location. But honestly, planting bedding plants in alternating colours or random arrangements rarely cuts the mustard. In some of our local gardens, I have seen alternating blue and yellow pansies as a border edging beneath well kept pink roses. Neither is alternating white alyssum with yellow pansies creative or classy and alternating two colours of petunias is no better. If you don’t want your garden to look like an amateur version of a traffic island, then be very circumspect with punnets of annuals from the garden centre.

Jinghong (12)Jinghong (11)There were no panda bears to be seen on our trip, but what can’t you do with bamboo? Here we saw it used as a walkway in what is described as a primitive forest in Xishuangbanna. It was also used in much wider expanses as decking over rough ground at the Jinhuo tourist village. It is a bit shaky to walk on and I have no idea about its longevity but the use of a traditional material that is fully biodegradable has some appeal in a modern world of concrete and plastic.