Summer Pleasures - Hydrangea Heaven
Summer has slowed me down a little this year. The heat! I’ve indulged in some unfamiliar laziness — which my friends assure me is good for me.
Despite my languid mood, this summer has quietly re-ignited my love affair with hydrangeas. I spy their blooms from every window in my house. They nibble away at me, gently pulling my fingers toward paintbrushes.
So when rainy days finally brought welcome coolness — and those familiar painty feelings — into the studio I went.
Jenny x
FROM MY GARDEN
I keep telling myself I’ll enjoy hydrangeas in moderation — especially now that I’ve downsized my garden. So much for that! Once again, I’ve gone completely bonkers for them.
In mid-January, a stand — yes, they are so big they could almost be classified as small trees — of Hydrangea Limelight kept pushing skyward, reaching around 1.8 metres before finally revealing their beautiful blooms. Now they dance in the breeze, apparently quite unfazed by the rain.
They’re a delight to see from multiple rooms, and I never want to be without them.
This show-stopper has slightly overcrowded my long topiary rectangle, which is also home to four maturing Hydrangea Annabelles (year two from cuttings), with a Hydrangea Diamond Rouge (year one) tucked in — just for fun.
Along the east side of my home, a narrow path receives a few precious morning hours of direct sunlight. With some doubt lingering in the back of my mind, I planted Domotoi, Sunday Fraise, Limelight, Lacecap, and Candlelight along this strip back in October.
Surprise and delight — they are all happy. Next season they may require a little bulk management. However, it’s a pleasant feeling of floral volume and caress as flower heads brush against one in passing.FROM MY ART
FROM MY ART STUDIO
Hydrangeas were clearly demanding attention this month.
But rather than starting something entirely new, I found myself returning to Under the Canopy — a watercolour series that has pulled me back in close after multiple artistic distractions - my specialty!
The first artwork in the trio, Merveille de Sanguine, began in my Devonport Road garden. (Detail pictured) A simple pruning caught my imagination. Peeking up under their matured canopy, I spied reds, purples and greens — vibrant and simply begging to be painted.
It was a reminder to look more carefully, to observe natures hidden moments and to record them where I could.
The current work, Autumn Hydrangea, continues this same thread. As those antique autumn shades revealed themselves, I slowly built up shade and light on the crisp floret petals. Burnt sienna, Indian yellow, perylene maroon, lemon yellow, neutral tint, alizarin — all in various mixes. It’s often surprising how little pigment is needed.
Several florets peeled away and now dance in the air. A crisp russet leaf lies in repose beneath the reimagined hydrangea pruning. I’m an ardent fan of glazing, and a soft lemon glaze over many of the petals has given them life.
I’ll put this work aside now for a while.
When Autumn Hydrangea is complete, there will be three works in the Under the Canopy series. I’m enjoying the conversation between them — and the way they hold memories of many hydrangea seasons, in different gardens, filling my memory cup with pleasure.
FROM MY KITCHEN
Delicious Afghans
My kitchen needs no encouragement to create with whatever is at hand. And no — nothing here has anything to do with hydrangeas.
Summer salads and platters are in constant rotation. For an easy lunch to share, I’ve been using Gianni’s flatbreads as a pizza base — layered with relish, pickled onion, herbs, capsicum, olives, capers, feta, lemon zest, then salami or salmon and grated cheese. Twenty minutes at 180°C and you’re done.
And then… Afghans.
My son’s favourite biscuit. For several days they kept popping into my mind. I never used to have much of a sweet tooth, but apparently tastes change as we grow older. So, the next day I had a social media meeting with Kathryn Cass — whose family is so often a grateful recipient of my culinary urges.
She doesn’t mind. Truly.
This batch was a little flat — more flour and cornflakes next time. Always learning!
FROM MY ART COLLECTIONS
This month I’m sharing a watercolour painting Gloriosa Rothschildiana from my Watermark Collection.
The Watermark works grow out of close observation of plants as they change through the seasons.
Gloriosa rothschildiana is a plant I grow in my garden. Its vivid hues soften as summer deepens, and I’ve chosen to capture this one at its crimson zenith.
What draws me most is its sculptural form — the way the petals twist and lift, each one a new act in the unfolding drama. It manages to be both saucy and graceful at the same time!
This painting reflects what I enjoy about watercolour — working with a light touch, letting paper and pigment do much of the work, and allowing the image to find its own balance.
Gloriosa Rothschildiana is available for sale. Get in touch if you want to make her yours.