In early 2000, I received a postcard from friends who live in Lyon; it pictured the Castle of Chaumont and they had written: Où es-tu? – Where are you? It was like a cyphered message telling me I should have entered the famed Gardens Festival, that has been held since 1992 in Chaumont Sur Loire, with a different theme every year. I had never thought of participating before, but that year’s theme, Mauvaise herbe – Weed struck a chord with me: this was my theme, because I grew up dreaming of the countryside but classifying weeds on city pavements. So, I sent in a post-modern project, an overturned city where everything was designed to accommodate the weeds: even walkways and the piazza. I did some research on how to crackle concrete to allow plants to colonise it, and I involved Japanese designer Masayo Ave to design with her some pre-pierced bricks that gardeners could break to accompany plants and create itineraries that would welcome both plants and people, none prevailing. Finally, I also involved a French nursery owner located in Tuscany, Didier Berruyer, who helped me produce a small road weeds nursery: those weeds that grow abundantly in Italy, and in particular those that have enthralled me ever since I was a child, prompting me to become a landscape architect. Then, I was awarded the selection, and for two years my garden displayed its beauties; actually, I was so successful in creating the right environment for weeds that quite a few guests joined in spontaneously after a few months (and fortunately, they were welcome here), such as: willows, purple loosestrife, ferns, sedges, and elderberries.
One funny note about this project: on the opening day, I had to accompany an Italian writer around, who is known for being very sensitive to gardens and plants. She loved my garden and wrote highly about it in her article; however, she felt my uneasiness about other neighbouring projects, that displayed everything but a sincere connection to nature. She burst out saying: “…if these are gardens, then I am against the garden!” I spontaneously told her I agreed because I stood on the side of the plants, and that I would write her a letter to explain why. This was the beginning of a correspondence with Pia Pera, and it gave birth to our close friendship and to the book Contro il giardino, dalla parte delle piante, (literally, against the garden, on the side of the plants) published in Italy by Ponte alle Grazie.
