Remembering Geoff Hamilton

It’s hard to believe that Geoff Hamilton died 30 years ago this month. The memory is particularly poignant, not just because he was an inspiration to me in terms of organic gardening but also because he died the day before he was due to film in our garden for his Paradise Gardens series.

The filming went ahead (his brother ended up narrating it) but, needless to say it was a difficult day for his crew and everyone who knew him.

The following is an excerpt from my book, The Garden of Vegan, describing my first encounter with Geoff. Apologies for lack of photos. I took a few of him rehearsing his lines but who knows when or where they’ll turn up?

“In 1990, a few years after starting my own landscape and garden maintenance business, I enrolled on a garden design course tutored by the late John Brookes MBE at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. John was not only one of the most respected garden designers of his time, but also one of the best authors and educators who brought the notion of gardens being an extension of the house into sharp focus. In fact, until I was introduced to his groundbreaking book, The Room Outside, I had no idea that there was such a profession as a garden designer, so without him it’s unlikely that I would be writing these words. Generous and keen for us to get our money’s worth, he pushed us hard, gave us a good understanding of the principles of garden design, and encouraged everyone to find their own path in an industry that was reinvigorated by the notion of lifestyle. It took me several years to pluck up courage to make a show garden, but in 1994 ‘Homage to the Green Man’ at the Hampton Court Flower Show was dedicated to my great-aunt Ivy, who helped me fund both the course at Kew and part of the show garden itself. The Green Man is an ancient symbol of our reliance upon and unity with nature. His foliate face and mouth disgorging leaves is often seen in church ceilings to symbolise the cycle of growth, death and rebirth and was used to smooth and schmooze during the transition from paganism to Christianity.

As it turned out, the garden was strangely prophetic. The Green Man theme was a simple expression of my interest in organics, the cycle of nature and contemporary garden design. Most of the plants had been taken from our own garden and from clients’ gardens where no herbicides or pesticides had been used, so I was able to lay claim to the fact that this was the first organic show garden at an RHS event. Like all show gardens, it was quite an effort and, without a commercial sponsor, a drain on my limited resources. But thanks to my aunt’s legacy and help from friends and clients (not to mention some stunning timber furniture from sculptor Johnny Woodford), it scored an RHS Silver-Gilt Medal and the George Cooke Memorial Award for the most innovative garden of the show. It was more than I dared hope for and, with good feedback from the local press, helped me get my feet firmly on the first rung of the ladder in the world of garden design.

However, on spying the Gardeners’ World presenter Geoff Hamilton standing in front of the garden, legs slightly apart, arms crossed and head cocked to one side, I realised something was up. I was a big admirer of Geoff, his commitment to organics and his work at Barnsdale. He had galvanised our resolve to garden in a more sustainable and compassionate way, so I was a little in awe of him taking the trouble to talk to me about the garden. His stance, however, bothered me and, sure enough, on introducing myself his eyes narrowed and looked rather stern. ‘How on earth can you call this an organic garden?’ he asked, pointedly, before I could shake his hand. ‘Your furniture’s made from tropical hardwood!’ Taken aback by this gruff introduction I reassured him that the timber he was referring to was, in fact, English elm, not wood from prime rainforest, reclaimed from a Dutch-elm-diseased tree that had been felled in Brighton. It had then been burnt and wire-brushed by the artist to give the impression of something more exotic. On hearing this Geoff relaxed, smiled and held out his hand: all was well. After showing him around the garden, I left him sitting by himself on the accused bench making notes for a rather flattering review later that evening on Gardeners’ World.

Next up was a formidable-looking hack leaning heavily on a post at the front of the garden, notebook in hand. It turned out to be Graham Rose, garden correspondent for The Times, well known for his political incorrectness and loud opinions. ‘I’ve got to be honest, I’m not very keen on all this new-age organic stuff,’ he boomed, ‘but . . . I like this garden very much!’ He then proceeded to recommend gardens that I should visit and tentatively arranged a trip to Little Sparta created by his friend Ian Hamilton Finlay. For someone just finding their feet in the world of garden design, this was hugely encouraging. Both Geoff and Graham were very supportive during the pivotal year after this first show garden, and I was sad to see both of them leave this world within two years of meeting them.”