
I have seen and even grown most of the Japanese species, the
one exception being Pinus luchuensis. The “Luchu” or “Okinawa pine” is hardy to
only 20-30 degrees F, USDA zone 9, so it would be of no use to me.
But let's take a look at some of the Japanese coniferous
species that I do know. One is Nageia nagi, and it's not very hardy either. The
evergreen genus is in the podocarp family and it is one of those plants that
upon first sight you wouldn't think it to be a conifer. I don't grow it
for it would take up valuable greenhouse space, but I have seen it growing
outdoors in southern California arboreta. The glossy, lance-shaped leaves make
it a good complementary accent for the flower bouquets. Nageia is the
Latinized version of nagi, and that is the native Japanese word for the
tree, so botanically speaking the name is redundant. In the Nyakuoji Shrine in
Kyoto, Japan, there is a nagi tree that is considered sacred. Nagi can
mean two things: 1) calm, as in a morning calm, and 2) to cut down, as with a
sword. If you pay your respects at the shrine your troubles will be cut away,
leaving you calm. The shrine is small and peaceful without many visitors, and
it is located at the south end of the Philosopher's path (Tetsugaku no michi),
a pedestrian path that follows a canal lined with hundreds of cherry trees.
Torreya nucifera is the Japanese nutmeg-yew, an evergreen
conifer native to the southern half of Japan. The genus name honors Dr. John
Torrey (1796-1873), an American botanist and co-author with Asa Gray of The
Flora of North America, while the specific epithet means “bearing nuts.”
Leaves are evergreen and give off a pleasant fragrance when bruised. As a
member of the yew family (Taxaceae), the fruit is a single seed covered by a
fleshy aril, and it is rich in oil and edible. Known as Kaya in Japan,
it was first scientifically described by Engelbert Kaempfer in 1712 and was
included in the Linnaeus Species Plantarum in 1753 as Taxus nucifera.
E.H. Wilson photographed a large tree in Kyushu, Japan in 1916 which was 28m
tall and 5.5m in girth, and could possibly have been 500 years old. Wilson
wrote that “the wood is yellowish to pale brown, firm and lustrous and durable
in water. It is used for making water-pails and for cabinet work.” The species
is probably hardy to USDA zone 6 or 7.
Wilson continues about the nutmeg, that “in one place only
is it common, and that is on Takao san, a hill some 500 m high, about 27 miles
southwest of Tokyo, growing with Abies firma.” A. firma is known in Japan as momi,
and that word simply means “fir.” According to Hillier it is a large tree which
can reach 40 m or more in the wild. The typical American nurseryman or gardener
knows nothing about A. firma, and wouldn't know one if they saw it. It is
simply in no demand or availability at American garden centers, but to the
horticultural cognoscenti it is recognized as an important species. In many
parts of Europe and America it doesn't matter, but in areas of high
temperatures (especially at night) and high humidity, A. firma is known to
survive when other fir species sigh, falter, then expire. It can take the heat,
therefore it is a preferred rootstock to be used for the cultivars of other
Abies species in areas such as the miserable American southeast. But even on
its own it is an attractive tree and I have grown Abies firma 'Nana
Horizontalis' – whether or not that is a legitimate name – and also A.
f. 'Halgren' which was a discovery of Gordy Halgren of Peacedale Nursery, where
his selection was noted for exceptional vigor and very dark glossy-green
needles. We root the 'Halgren' then use it as rootstock for a wide array of
Abies cultivars, a process more costly than just buying in other fir seedlings
as rootstock. Then we have the arduous task of keeping track of the rootstock
used when we advertise and sell a specimen 5-to-10 years later. Remember:
employees come and go, and they are never as committed to accuracy and
knowledge as the owner. Not one of my current employees – who, still, all
nurseries would want to recruit – could answer the question of what is the
preferred rootstock for Abies cultivars planted in the southeast USA. TMI
– too much information I suppose.
Early in my career I was impressed to discover that Oregon's
common “Douglas fir,” Pseudotsuga menziesii, had relatives in Asia, in both
China and in Japan. My Flora Farm residence is host to two magnificent
specimens of the Oregon Douglas fir – huge and well over 100 years old – and
underneath them I planted the Asian species, Pseudotsuga sinensis and
Pseudotsuga japonica. I would love to see them hybridize – kind of like I did
with wife Haruko – but I don't suppose that any recognized crossing will
materialize in my lifetime. Maybe at a future date someone will praise old
geezer Buchholz for bringing the transcontinental species together. Wow! – like
Buchholz was able to score a Chinese and a Japanese wife. What will the
offspring look like? Interesting...at the least. I suppose I'm most fascinated
with the cones of these species: the Chinese being fat and amber and the
Japanese being sharp and dark and narrow and the American being in-between.
Anyway, I love Pseudotsuga cones, and though they are “false hemlocks,” the
cones are far more impressive than the little things produced on “true”
hemlocks. It's too bad that the Scotsman David Douglas, who championed the
American Douglas fir, was never aware that related species in the genera also
existed in Asia. Of course all the Pseudotsuga originally were classified as
pines (Pinus) anyway.
I keep earlier editions of the Hillier Manual of Trees
and Shrubs around to compare with changes in the latest, 2014 edition. In
the 1981 5th edition, for example, Juniperus conferta is listed as
the “Shore juniper,” a native of Japan and Sakhalin “found on sandy
sea-shores.” I was surprised to read that it was introduced by E.H. “Chinese”
Wilson in 1915, as you would have thought someone would have introduced it long
before. In the 2014 edition we learn that it is now classified as J. rigida
subsp. conferta. Hillier has also added a few sentences to the description,
calling it an “invaluable ground-cover species,” and uses poetry practically by
referring to “dense prickly carpets of apple-green foliage.” Apple-green – I
like that. We have a specimen growing in our Blue Forest of J. conferta...er,
rigida subsp. conferta 'Blue Lagoon'. I just went out to look at it – hopefully
nobody saw me staring at it for five minutes – but I think it is poorly named.
I can detect nothing blue at all, only silver and green, but it is a
dense mat less than one foot tall and a whopping 51' (15.5 m) wide.
Podocarpus macrophyllus is the Japanese “Sweet Kusamaki,” an evergreen conifer
from southern China and Japan. It is commonly seen in Tokyo, used as a single
specimen or effective as a hedge. Careful with children, however, because the
purple-red fruits on female plants are poisonous if eaten. When I was young I
grew one as a houseplant, and though the species is in the Podocarpaceae
family, I knew it as the “Buddhist pine,” and it was purchased cheaply at the
grocery store. It is more highly valued in Hong Kong because it is considered a
Feng Shui tree, a Chinese pseudoscience* that believes energy forces
harmonize individuals with their surrounding environment.
*Superstitio absurdissima.
I have been growing Larix cultivars since I began my
nursery, but I never really know if the “Japanese larch,” Larix kaempferi, is
the correctly identified species or if it is sometimes Larix decidua, the
“European larch,” and vice versa. The new shoots of the Japanese are reddish in
color while the European's shoots are yellow-to-gray, but in spring I'm too
busy to walk around and study the larches. It is confusing, though, to have a
L. d. 'Pendula' as well as a L. k. 'Pendula'.
A German nursery woman visited us twenty years ago and she
was pleased to see Larix kaempferi 'Diana'. Please because her employer found
it in the wild in Germany (1974). “Wait a minute,” I thought later that night,
“how could he have found a Japanese species in a German forest?”
I saw her again the next day, and demanded an explanation. She reported that
Larix kaempferi was commonly used in German reforestation, as it thrives in
heavy soils unlike Larix decidua. So she was off the hook after all.
We don't sell Sciadopitys verticillata any more – the straight
species that is. The “Japanese Umbrella pine” (Koyamaki) used to be in high demand for a high price, but today's
gardeners have been spoiled into wanting only cultivars. That's ok because one
can root or grow from seed the rootstock, then grafts take virtually 100%. The Hillier
Manual of Trees and Shrubs says that Sciadopitys “should be planted in
every representative collection of conifers,” but then the book lists only one
cultivar – 'Sternschnuppe' – from Wittbold-Muller in Germany, before 1984. But
Europe is full of interesting cultivars besides 'Sternschnuppe' (shooting
star), and I have been to W-M's nursery and they have introduced many other
very nice cultivars. The nursery was a well-tended showplace 18 years ago upon
my first visit but has fallen on hard times since. It was sad a few years ago
to see row after row of umbrella pine ruined because they were growing into
each other, and apparently there wasn't a market for them anymore.
I've never seen Sciadopitys in the wild*, but the tallest
tree I know is growing in front of a beater house in nearby Forest Grove,
Oregon – just 5 blocks away from where I grew up as a kid. I would estimate it
to be over 100 years old, but how it got to Forest Grove in the first place I
don't know. According to Hillier the species was “first introduced [to Europe]
as a single plant by Thomas Lobb in 1853, later more successfully by both
Robert Fortune and J.G. Veitch in 1861.”
*The Baltic region is on the other side of the world from
Japan, but it is home to the largest known deposit of amber, known as Baltic
amber. Infrared microspectroscopy of the amber suggests that conifers of the
family Sciadopityaceae were responsible, and the process dates from about 44
million years ago.
Thuja standishii (nezuko in Japanese) is an evergreen
conifer native to southern Japan. As a timber tree it is grown in plantations
for its waterproof, and pleasantly-scented wood. Along with Chamaecyparis
obtusa (hinoki), Sciadopitys (koyamaki), Chamaecyparis pisifera (sawara)
and Thujopsis dolabrata (asunaro), they and Thuja standishii comprise
the “Five Sacred Trees of Kiso.” Temples were built from these five trees, but
the great Kiso Forest was off limits to the common people, and if they were
caught poaching they were punished with death. In spite of such drama the
botanic name is rather boring: the genus name is the Greek name for a kind of
juniper and the specific name honors English nurseryman John Standish
(1809-1875). Besides the Thuja we have a Lonicera standishii and a golden Taxus
baccata 'Standishii' and Standish and Noble at Sunningdale produced
Rhododendron hybrids.
Thujopsis looks kind of like a Thuja on steroids, in that
the former displays larger leaves on flatter branchlets, in fact it has been
commonly called the “Elkhorn cypress.” Thujopsis propagates easily by rooted
cuttings but I suppose it would be compatible grafted onto the various species
of Thuja. Thujopsis is a monotypic genus and the opsis part of the name
means “resembling,” resembling Thuja. The specific epithet dolabrata
means “hatchet-like,” referring to the shape of the stomata.* Thujopsis
is commonly found in arboreta – hardy to USDA zone 5 – but is not so common in
home landscapes. I used to grow 'Variegata' but sales were weak because of its
ungainly growth habit and because the portions of cream-white foliage were not
very stable. 'Nana' is a better cultivar with its dwarf, compact spreading
form, and where all parts are smaller than the type. I don't understand why
Thujopsis is not more common in landscapes – it is certainly attractive and
easy to grow – but then I am not on a mission to convert anyone just because I
like a certain conifer. The beautiful specimen photographed above thrives in
Portland, Oregon's Hoyt Arboretum amongst the weeds where it receives no care
or supplemental irrigation. I suppose that less than one out of a thousand
visitors to the arboretum have ever noticed it...which is a shame.
*In botany, a stoma (plural stomata) is the Greek word for
“mouth,” and it refers to a pore that facilitates gas exchange, usually found
on the underside of the plant leaves.
The typical nurseryman – like me – detects no difference
between Taxus baccata, the “Common” or “English yew,” and Taxus cuspidata, the
“Japanese yew.” There are plenty of cultivars for each species, but since T.
cuspidata comes from northeast Asia it is more winter hardy than T.
baccata. In cold areas one could also try growing Taxus x media – the
hybrid between the two species – that has the unceremonious common name of
“Anglojap.” If you encounter the specific name of T. caespitosa, just
know that it is a synonym of T. cuspidata. I find T.c. 'Rezek's Gold' to be an
attractive cultivar, although it must be perfectly sited in Oregon. If in full
PM sun it will burn in summer, but if grown in too much shade it will appear
greenish. The selection, from the late Ed Rezek of New York, has been variously
labelled Taxus 'Rezek's Gold', Taxus baccata 'Rezek's Gold', Taxus caespitosa
'Rezek's Gold' and Taxus cuspidata 'Rezek's Gold', but since the late Edward
Rezek sent it to me with the latter name, about 15 years ago, that is the name
that I use. For what it's worth, the Royal Horticultural Society's Encyclopedia
of Conifers differs and lists 'Rezek's Gold' as a species of T. baccata.
Obviously I wonder who, who has decided that, who has concluded
that? It is not an unimportant question...since I don't want to purvey
plants that are not sufficiently winter-hardy to survive in cold areas.
Today's blog has purposely championed a lot of little-known
or under-appreciated conifers from Japan. One reason is so that I can research
and learn a little more about them too. It is one thing to grow, and
even to sell, a Japanese species, but quite another to really know the
intimacies of the species, to know the real creature. The nurseryman has
the upper hand over the botanist and the taxonomist, those who deal with dead,
pressed herbarium specimens. The nurseryman, on the other hand, feels, smells
and has to scrub the pitch off his hands when he works with the plants, so we know
them very differently than the botanist. And then, of course, the botanist's
livelihood doesn't depend on the plant or a crop to survive and thrive under
his care, whereas the nurseryman still has children to feed.
I would much rather that my precious daughter marry a
hard-working, dirty nurseryman over a clean finger-nailed botanist, but maybe
that's because I am a dirty nurseryman and not smart enough to be a botanist.