Christopher Lloyd and Great Dixter

Late summer and autumn can see many gardens enjoy a surprising lift – a second flush of roses and those late bloomers with their strong colours, like cannas, asters and dahlias. But few gardens do autumn colour as well as Great Dixter.

This is one of the most famous gardens in the world, and justifiably so. It was the home of the late great Christopher ‘Christo’ Lloyd, who earned his reputation through bold unconventional planting.

You might sometimes say of the planting at Great Dixter that it works in practice but should not work in theory. The juxtaposition of colours can send one of those circular colour charts – you know the ones, where you are supposed to pick colours adjacent or opposite – into a spin.

It is joyous, vibrant and utterly spellbinding.

Great Dixter origins

The half-timbered house with its criss-cross leaded windows, tall brick chimneys and warm red roof tiles, was built in the mid-fifteenth century. It was restored by Sir Edwin Lutyens in 1910. He extended the original house and drew the initial masterplan for the gardens that surrounded it.

Christo’s father, Nathaniel Lloyd, commissioned the work. Lloyd had made the bulk of his money from a successful colour printing business that produced adverts for big brands of the time, like Fry’s chocolates, Oxo and Huntley & Palmers biscuits.

Christo, who was born in 1921, was the youngest of six children. He learned his gardening skills from his mother, Daisy. He said: “I was the only one that really took any interest in the garden. But I did right from the start so it must have been in my blood. I used to dibble for her – stand near her when she was pricking plants out on the potting bench and pretend to be helping.”

In 1928 he was taken to meet the great Gertrude Jekyll at her home, Munstead Wood. He wrote: “She was on her knees splitting polyanthus after they had flowered. I was about seven, and must have impressed her because she blessed me as we left and said she hoped I would grow up to be a great gardener.” How could he not?!

Authority run-ins

After studying at Rugby School and doing a degree in modern languages at Cambridge, Christo joined the Royal Horse Artillery in 1942. He was always looking for plants to bring home to Great Dixter. Once, on manoeuvres in the north of England, he collected some wild orchids and placed them in water in a fire bucket on his dormitory to preserve them. Unfortunately, this coincided with a regimental inspection of the barracks. His senior officer “hit the roof” when he saw what he perceived to be an essential piece of safety equipment used as an overflowing vase.

Run-ins with authority were a consistent part of Christo’s life. On demobilisation he took a degree in horticulture at nearby Wye College. His talent was quickly recognised and he was subsequently employed as a teacher there but was sacked following an argument with a ‘lazy’ professor who was trying to get Christo to do his work.

He threw his energy into Great Dixter instead, alongside his mother, until her death in 1972 at the age of 91. They opened the gardens to the public and set up a nursery that initially specialised in clematis.

Experimental planting

Christo was never interested in simply preserving a great Arts and Crafts garden at Great Dixter. “Every generation has to make its mark in its own way. Copying is a cop-out,” he said. Here flower beds became test beds for his experimental planting.

“People are a bit frightened of colour so they tend to play safe and go in for colour harmonies,” he said. “They are frightened of white, which is rather a staring colour but they know it is in ‘good taste’, which is a swear word as far as I’m concerned.”

Though known for his dramatic planting, he was far too clever to simply throw clashing colours together provocatively. “I find that colour contrasts can be rather exciting, but I like colour harmonies too. I just don’t want them all the time. If you’ve got a strong colour contrast you’ve got to balance it with something that will sit without being too fierce so it doesn’t stand out at you.”

He scrutinised the results of his experiments intensely. “I think you need to be observing all the time and the more you observe, the more you get out of your environment,” he said.

Christopher Lloyd’s writing

It was his writing that made him most famous. He wrote 25 books – the first in 1957. Favourites are “The Well-tempered Garden” and a compilation of his correspondence with fellow gardener Beth Chatto. He also wrote a weekly column for Country Life that lasted for 42 years.

His writing shows his obsession with colour and detail. Writing to Chatto he describes how effective the ‘sulky orange’ hips of Rosa glauca are when underplanted with the pink Japanese anemone ‘Hadspen Abundance’. He praises the “muscular, white chalices of Colchicum spesiosum ‘Album’” and fuchsia ‘Chillerton Beauty’, whose “pink skirt with purple petticoat” caught his fancy.

He could be forthright and acerbic. Scratch that. He was usually forthright and acerbic. Friends called him a “grumpy old git” and “garrulous”. But his humour and pleasure in a good argument always made him enjoyable company. And it still does for readers of his books.

“If a plant bores you, something must be done about it. The simplest course, if it belongs to you, is to throw it out. If it is someone else’s, look the other way. If it belongs to someone you rather dislike anyway, don’t be ashamed to let it confirm you in an inclusive repulsion.”

For the last 13 years of his life Christo was supported by his head gardener and closest friend, Fergus Garrett. He said each one’s skills complemented the other’s.

Together they dug up Lutyens’ 80-year-old rose garden. “Why be a slave to roses?” Christo challenged. To me this would normally be an act of sacrilege. But what the two of them planted in its place – an exotic tropical garden – is genius. You walk through it and for just a few seconds you feel you might be in Malaya, rather than Kent. It is astonishing.

Final years

Christo was awarded the Royal Horticultural Society’s Victoria Medal of Honour in 1979 and an OBE in 2000. He died in 2006 but had generously set up the Great Dixter Charitable Trust a few years earlier, preserving the garden for posterity. During his life he squeezed the most out of the garden and Garrett has taken up the mantle. The bedding plants are replaced up to three times a year, ensuring that for most of the year this is a garden that will delight. “I think every plant and every scene should give you a buzz,” said Christo. And it does, still.

Today you can visit the house as well as the garden. I was too captivated by the rooms outside to step across the threshold. Maybe next time.

Visit my YouTube channel to see more garden tours, reviews and interviews