Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 14)

Acer 'White Tigress'

Acer 'White Tigress'

Carpinus fangiana

Famous English plantsman Roy Lancaster wrote an article in the International Dendrology Society's 2022 Yearbook entitled Ten Trees in My Garden. He extolled the virtues of Acer 'White Tigress', Carpinus fangiana and others which I know, and also some such as Carrierea calycina which I've never heard of before. What's remarkable is that his ten trees, plus countless other trees and shrubs are shoehorned into his one-third acre suburban garden. I would love to give him a Buchholz maple or conifer introduction, but I'm afraid he would have to give it away to another plantsman with more room. Mr. Lancaster writes, “Limited space accounts for so many difficult decisions in a gardener's life.”

Acer palmatum 'Sister Ghost'

Acer palmatum 'Uncle Ghost'

Limited space indeed – all successful wholesale nurseries suffer from a lack of room, or at least the quality of their plants can suffer. One stated goal of the MrMaple company – the new Buchholz Nursery owners – is to reunite all the Buchholz maple introductions back onto the nursery grounds. I would love to see it happen, especially since I don't have a good number of them anymore, but they'll probably have to harvest and move or dump other space-hogging trees first. Maybe that's a good thing, but we'll see how it goes; at this point I am just an employee who will figure out a way to accomplish whatever they choose.

As we plod along with Buchholz Plant Introductions (Part 14) you can imagine the space challenge as I have even more maples to describe. But let's take a break from the Acer genus this week lest you are a Flora Wonder Blog reader who has grown weary of my endless parade of maples.

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Jack Frost'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Jack Frost'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Jack Frost'

So, more conifers first. Some variegated Metasequoia glyptostroboides appeared at the nursery from different crops of purchased seedlings to be used as rootstock. One was named 'Jack Frost', a name I thought clever, as cream-white licks the top of the green needle-fronds. It has never reverted for me, but a problem is that the variegation isn't very apparent when you look up at the fast-growing cultivar. Also, the whitish needles aren't evident on young plants, especially those grown in a greenhouse or with some shade. So you have only a short window of excellence when the cultivar is 3-5 years old, between 5-12 ft. in size. However, on the original specimen the trunk displayed patches of white, but I suppose that many mature unnamed seedlings do as well. I think 'Jack Frost' has its charm, but more than one customer griped that they couldn't sell my cultivar as a variegated “Dawn Redwood” if no one could find the white. “Where's the beef...err, the Frost, Jack?” Still it is a better selection than M.g. 'White Spot', in my opinion, for most 'White Spots' in the landscape have a dirty, cluttered look.

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'White Spot'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'North Light'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'North Light'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'North Light'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'North Light'

I guess you could say that the less than impressive Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'White Spot' redeemed itself by producing a witch's broom mutation that is far superior ornamentally. Originally discovered in Germany by Winifried Schirrmann in about 2005, M.g. 'Schirrmann's Nordlicht' was the (awkward) given name requested by the finder when he sent the first scions to Nelis Kools of Deurne, The Netherlands. I was the first in America to receive starts, and the compact, colorful dwarf came highly recommended by Mr. Kools. No matter how nice the selection, I pleaded with Kools for me to give it the translated name of 'North Light', but we also include the AKA 'Schirrmann's Nordlicht' name to avoid confusion. It's a wonderful plump upright with cream-white foliage that turns to russet brown in autumn. Amazingly it withstood our 116F (47C) heat dome that doomed many other plants a few years ago. I planted three of the first trees at the top of Flora Farm to show off for the public, but the traffic zooms so fast that they probably only see a white blur. I suppose they are the largest in the world, or so claims Nelis with a little bit of jealousy...but probably not for long according to the new Flora Farm owner, Bartlett Tree Experts who also grow it in their Charlotte, North Carolina arboretum. Then I became jealous because their specimen was as tall as mine and reached its age in a shorter time, which I witnessed in the autumn of 2022. My specimens have more heft and trunks twice as large for now, but 'North Light' thrives in the heat of the Southeast, so soon they will have the champion. Well, they actually have the champion in any case since they own both arboreta. I suppose that Nelis sold a 'North Light' in Europe before I sold any in America, so its first introduction was from him, not me, but I have sold a few thousand already and it's a cracker of a cultivar.

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Lightning'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Lightning'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Lightning'

Metasequoia glyptostroboides 'Lightning'

I attempted a Metasequoia favor back to Nelis Kools with my seedling discovery of M.g. 'Lightning' – he was the first and only to receive scionwood before I sold any. I implored him to report how it fared in the relatively benign climate in maritime western Europe. I was initially ecstatic about the discovery and imagined that it would outshine the aforementioned 'North Light', but sadly it fried to a crisp when planted in humidless Oregon's full sun. Kools reported that it burned for him as well, and offered that it was another “greenhouse plant,” one that can look fantastic in the coddled environment of a shaded greenhouse, but when planted outside it would burn on a sunny day. So, if it proved a failure in wimpy-weather Holland, I concluded it was a useless introduction. An older specimen was planted out at Flora Farm, and though it burns less with each passing year, I haven't propagated any in the past 7 or 8 years. I thought that I gave it the best name imaginable, but ultimately it was a great name that was wasted.

Chamaecyparis pisifera 'Harvard Gold'

Chamaecyparis pisifera 'Harvard Gold'

John Mitsch

I could be leaving out important details about my introduction of Chamaecyparis pisifera 'Harvard Gold', or at least I think I introduced it. Oregon's John Mitsch, one of the Founding Fathers of dwarf conifers in all of America, was given a slow-growing, bright yellow “Sawara cypress” by someone at the Arnold Arboretum of Boston. John said it was unnamed but encouraged me to propagate it. Mr. Mitsch was a renowned propagator and he himself had previously introduced a number of plants into the trade such as dwarf hemlocks, interesting hinokis, weeping pines etc., so if he was keen on the unnamed gift then I supposed it would be a worthy undertaking. Eventually I built up a sufficient supply of the easy-to-root conifer where I could begin sales (in about 2005), so I sold half the crop and named it 'Mitsch Gold', while keeping the remainder as stock plants. Two years past my first sales I told Mitsch that I was successful with it, but I didn't tell him that I had actually begun sales. As to a name, he suggested 'Harvard Gold' due to Harvard University's ties with the Arnold Arboretum. Uh ohh. I felt guilty to have jumped the gun without allowing for his input first. I immediately changed the name, but a small number of 'Mitsch Gold' were already in the trade. It is now listed in the Royal Horticulture Society's Encyclopedia of Conifers as 'Harvard Gold', introduced by Buchholz Nursery, and with no synonym of 'Mitsch Gold', thankfully. The same RHS publication mentions that I also introduced C.p. 'Golden Girl', which I did about the same time, but I don't have a photo of it, nor do I have any left at the nursery.

Young Buchholz

In 1973 I began my formal career in horticulture, though before that I mowed lawns and pruned hedges for the townsfolk of Forest Grove, Oregon. My parents were relieved that I didn't press them for a stipend for clothes, school expenses or going to the movies. I am grateful that I was on my own, in hindsight, since that was when I realized that I loved the money I could gain through hard work, especially since I didn't have the brains to honestly acquire it any other way. So, I've been an ardent capitalist for well over 50 years.

Talon and Sonya Buchholz, 1984

My first nursery job was at a large Oregon wholesale nursery where I began at $3.00 per hour, but I didn't mind the low pay since I was outside and working with plants. My new employer expressed doubt that I would last, but for my entire tenure of seven years I was motivated to prove him wrong. Duly impressed he tripled my wages the first year and I was on my way. I took out a mortgage and purchased 25 acres of woods and farmland and set out to collect ornamental trees. I still worked full-time while I began building the nursery at nights and on the weekends. Collecting new species – or species new to me – was my joy, but it came with the necessary evil of making a living by propagating and selling them to support the beginnings of an arboretum and a wholesale nursery.

Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Fernspray Gold'

My employer received a few plants from Duncan and Davies Nursery, New Zealand, and they were included with his large order of various Japanese maple cultivars. He wasn't particularly interested in the conifer samples and asked me what I thought he should do. Since my nursery had already begun, I said that if he didn't want them then I would buy the ten-or-so samples of Chamaecyparis obtusa 'Fernspray Gold' and Cupressus glabra var. arizonica 'Blue Pyramid'. The 'Fernspray Gold' originated in New Zealand and was selected as early as 1970, and the golden foliage held up fairly well in Oregon's brutal full-sun summers. It looked similar to the old cultivar from Japan, 'Tetragona Aurea', a cultivar introduced into the UK in 1876 and distributed by William Barron and Son. According to the RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers, 'Fernspray Gold' differs from 'Tetragona Aurea' “in having branches that are more spreading and with drooping branchlets, and having slightly deeper gold foliage with only a hint of the lighter creamy yellow markings.” I will add: focus sharply on your labelling, for if mixed up the two will take a number of years to sort out. The stalwart John Mitsch found out that I had a new, golden hinoki from New Zealand, 'Fernspray Gold', and he ordered 100 rooted cuttings at 30 cents each and I was excited that our roles were reversed, that I was now selling starts of a new plant to him, and I admit to feeling quite important at the time.

Cupressus glabra 'Blue Ice' (or 'Blue Pyramid')

Cupressus glabra 'Blue Ice' (or 'Blue Pyramid')

Along with C.o. 'Fernspray Gold', another sample from New Zealand that actually impressed me more was Cupressus glabra 'Blue Pyramid'. At the time I was a young beginner, a very new participant in the world of horticulture, and the brilliant blue cypress was very different from any other conifer I had seen before. I didn't have a clue how I would ever propagate a Cupressus, so why would I want to acquire it? The answer is that I was too naive to think about future production, as if the new conifer in hand was proof enough that I too could make more of them. Besides, I was initially rescued from my own propagation ignorance because I continued to import my starts from New Zealand.

Cupressus glabra 'Blue Ice'

The nomenclature of the native-American species has always been murky, whether it is actually Cupressus glabra or C. arizonica, C. glabra var. arizonica or C. arizonica var. glabra...or whatever, but I admit that I'm insufficiently qualified to weigh in on the matter. The RHS Encyclopedia begins their cultivar list with “Many of the following cultivars will be found in older literature listed under Cupressus glabra Sudw., a species that is treated here as a variety of C. arizonica.” Then 'Blue Pyramid' is described as originating by Ken Burns, New Zealand in 1972. What confused me more was that the (long-ago defunct) Duncan and Davies firm began supplying me with a different name, 'Blue Ice', instead of the 'Blue Pyramid'. Since they looked identical I changed my ID to 'Blue Ice' since I thought that name was more appropriate, more jazzy. The RHS declares that 'Blue Ice' “Originated in Duncan and Davies Nursery, New Zealand before 1984.” Hmm – were they ever two independent introductions or merely a marketing rename? For the record, the company was guilty of numerous other nomenclatural flubs, especially with maples that I also imported, and it occurred either out of ignorance or bottom-line convenience, but in either case they dismissed the importance of accuracy and continued to peddle their bushes anyway. Well, until they went bankrupt.

Cupressus glabra 'Blue Ice'

A few years after receiving Cupressus 'Blue Pyramid/'Blue Ice' I displayed a 6' specimen at Oregon's Far West Trade Show. At the time I was Mr. Nobody in the nursery industry, but my plant booth was the hit of the show and everybody wondered when I would be able to supply them. I began to experiment with various rootstocks – since I failed with rooted cuttings – and I think I tried Juniperus scopulorum, Thuja orientalis, Thuja occidentalis, Cupressocyparis (now known as Cuprocyparis) leylandii, and probably something else which I can't now recall. The grafts “took” to some extent on just about everything but the tops significantly outgrew the understock, leading to a plant that would require constant staking. One of my customers had a couple hundred of my grafts in their field. A Friday project for their crew was to remove the metal stakes so the diggers could be ready to harvest the following Monday. Unfortunately a rainy windstorm developed the day before and most of the trees were leaning at a 45 degree angle, so they had to re-stake them straight, stomp on the soil to compact the base and wait a month to dig. They learned to keep the stakes in place until the very minute they were prepared to dig each tree. Midway through my 15-year run with the 'Blue Ice', I acquired seedlings of C. glabra or C. arizonica, I can't remember which now, so the graft union was more compatible. The tradeoff was a less winter-hardy rootstock, but at least the trees didn't tip over. Ultimately my customers became less enamoured with ball-and-burlapped 'Blue Ice', because the stress created by digging caused the tree to produce a large amount of brownish male pollen which gave it a less-pristine look. I gave up on further production because growing 'Blue Ice' in containers to a saleable size led to a skinny tree without much body, a tree that also required a continuous stake. Perhaps another nursery is successful with 'Blue Ice', I don't know, but I don't seem to find it in retail nurseries anymore.

Cupressus arizonica 'Blue Column'

The RHS Encyclopedia also lists Cupressus arizonica 'Blue Column', “A very tight, upright, columnar plant with the top branches curving inward and the appearance of silvery plates all over the foliage. In ten years 3.5 x 1 m. Originated by Buchholz and Buchholz Nursery, Or., USA in 1992.” 'Blue Column' was selected from purchased rootstock and was nearly as silver-blue as 'Blue Ice'. The RHS doesn't provide a photo of it because my solo specimen blew over in a windstorm and was dumped before the photographer of the Encyclopedia, Aris Auders, showed up seeking tree photos. I didn't have rootstock anymore so I couldn't propagate from the fallen tree, so no more 'Blue Column' on the Ark. The fact that it's even listed in the English publication gives me hope that the cultivar exists in somebody's collection.

Derek Spicer, Kilworth Conifers

I keep referring to the RHS Encyclopedia of Conifers, for despite the errors – which are to be expected – it is a fantastic compilation of most of the cultivars that are grown today. The late author, Derek Spicer of Kilworth Conifers, deserves enormous credit for his monumental achievement, and one must wonder how he researched so much coniferous history while still running a business. I regret that I was never able to meet the man...and how much enjoyment and knowledge I would have gained strolling through his collection.

x Cuprocyparis notabilis (Alice Holt cypress)

With Mr. Spicer I would have wanted to gain more information about the hybrid x Cuprocyparis notabilis, supposedly a cross between Chamaecyparis (or Xanthocyparis or Callitropsis) nootkatensis and Cupressus glabra (or arizonica). Keith Rushforth in Conifers uses the common name of “Alice Holt cypress,” but he then goes on to suggest that the Cupressus glabra was the seed parent, with the crossee being a Chamaecyparis nootkatensis growing some 20 meters away, so shouldn't it be listed as Cupressus glabra x Chamaecyparis nootkatensis instead of the other way around? The hybrid was raised by Forestry Commission geneticists at Leighton Hall in 1956, according to Rushforth. The RHS Encyclopedia states that “the seed was sown in 1970 at the Forest Research Station, Alice Holt Lodge, Hampshire, UK.” Then what confuses me is that 'Arilosa' is listed as a cultivar of C. notabilis, “A cultivar with slower growth than the species. Originated before 1948 by Lindsey Prior, Canberra New Zealand.” How could a cultivar originate before the orignial hybrid then?

Cupressus x arilosa

My interest in the (confusing) matter is that I drive past two large Cupressus x arilosa every day that I planted on formerly leased property. The start was given to me by the late botanist John Silba of New York state who claimed it was a cross of Cupressus arizonica with Cupressus torulosa. In any case my specimens are about 30' tall, and attractive if any cypress is. I sold a few in the late 1990s, but my customers shied away due to the perception that it wouldn't be hardy, though in Oregon it has withstood near 0 degree F winters. I really doubt that anyone else in America has attempted to produce this hybrid, but for what it's worth, our grafts were on Thuja orientalis (platycladus) rootstock.

Juniperus communis 'Silver Star'

In the summer of about 2000 I was hiking at Silver Star Mountain in Washington state, a rugged rock ridge located on the western side of the Cascade Range. Every hike I ever took on Silver Star, I was accompanied by my best friend Reuben Hatch, and indeed his ashes were later scattered on a stone outcrop that always reminded Reuben of the mountains of Scotland. On one August hike on a very warm day we discovered our narrow path nearly subdued by a very aggressive Juniperus communis variety that attacked our route with low, trip-hazard worry. While fighting our way through I spotted a pearl on a blue-green shoot. The cream-white reversion still looked perky after a long series of blazing sun-days, especially at altitude. It wasn't the “right” time to attempt a graft, but it was then or never, and to my pleasant surprise the scion “took,” with Juniperus scopulorum 'Skyrocket' as a rootstock. I nursed it along for about 15 years, grafting 5 to 10 per year (if that) which was all the poor waif could produce, and I sold the few as J.c. 'Silver Star'. It was plagued unfortunately with burnt-rotten portions on the most white of the foliage. One year it looked so bad that I threw it out, glad to put it out of its misery. I suspect that it was intentionally pouting because I ripped it out of its happy mountain surroundings...into our rather dank, wet winter atmosphere. I admit that I had a little temporary fun with J.c. 'Silver Star' and my friend Reuben admired it as well, overlooking its flaws.

Of all the conifers mentioned in this blog, none have been in production for the past couple of years; but I had some enjoyment while it lasted, and thanks for the memories.