Awards Archives | James Alexander-Sinclair

My goodness, two blogposts in under a month: it is quite like the good old days when people used to read blogs and the world was not completely swamped with words.

Anyway it is that time of year again when I skip off to Moscow to judge the Moscow Flower Show. This will be the fifth year and it is always interesting – the gardens are usually a bit of a mixed bag but never dull. This is my week

Sunday:
Hampton Court for a recce, watch Iceland lose to France then return to the Teddington Travelodge. This is worth a brief mention as it is basically a multi storey car park with rooms and if possible should be avoided. There was a postcard on the bed which said (and I précis this rather than quote verbatim) ‘Welcome to the British summertime. For your convenience we have drawn your curtains to keep out the heat of the day, we have also removed your duvet and left you with a single sheet. We suggest that you open your window at night when the temperatures cool”. This is, we assume, in lieu of air conditioning

Monday is judging which was all very jolly. Then lunch, then feedback then drive home and try not to sleep on the M40.

Tuesday :
Fly to Moscow. Aeroflot this time which has it air crew in very jaunty orange uniform: like a group of Slavic satsumas. I am eating mushroom risotto and fried almonds followed by a perfectly passable tiramisu
Clouds are funny things’ all soft and fluffy to look at but as soon as you go into one in an aeroplane they get all uppity and shake you about in a most alarming way. I had my knee firmly grasped by the very large man next to whom I was sitting on a flight from Glasgow the other day as we lurched through a crowd. I think he was very embarrassed.

Wednesday :
Began with Russian pancakes, boiled sausages and Brussels sprouts but, more importantly, it was judgment day.

Eccentrically the rest of the panel had already judged in my absence so I was mostly on my own and then added my marks to theirs. This resulted in some slightly odd decisions which I had to moderate. There are some okay gardens and a couple of shockers but this is a very young show which needs time to find its place. It would be even better if everybody thought about things a little earlier – some garden applications did not arrive until June – which is not something that we would tolerate at the RHS!

Obviously, as this is Russia, we have to have dignitaries and speeches and a full blown awards ceremony with fanfares and clapping. I signed all the medal certificates and then, after a moment for a swift change of suiting, I showed the deputy British ambassador round the show. He was rather captivated by the idea of gardens uniting countries etc etc and it gave him a rest from talking about the Chilcott report to inquisitive Russian journalists.
We also had the minister of culture who made a longish speech* about something. Then various other people popped onto the stage and talked about how amazing everything was and how grateful we all are etc etc. Russians love a speech even more so if it is made by a government apparatchik. Then I made a speech and dished out medals: this involved two girls – one dressed in a Russian flag and one in a Union Jack – who darted forward and gave each winner a bunch of roses, a bag contains a book and some tea, another bag containing more tea and an MFS pen tidy. My job was to give out a certificate and kiss people when appropriate ** then there were more speeches and more certificates to everybody involved. This included the show’s pet Orthodox priest who has an amazing beard and comes every year to bless us all. He made a speech and was rewarded not only with the tea and roses but a Bosch cordless screwdriver.
Dinner followed in a former chocolate factory with a great view of the river.

Thursday:
I woke up this morning to a bit of a bit of a judging rumpus which always adds a bit of a frisson to proceedings. Facebook was jumping with a certain amount of disgruntlement so I had to pour a lot of oil on a lot of waters – if there had been a cormorant in the vicinity it would have been in trouble. I think all was fine in the end – the problem was that we gave one Best in Show rather than rewarding a best in each category of which there are many – Show, Russian, Balcony, Urban, Art, Chic,Trade etc etc. For some a Gold Medal is not enough…

Having done this I tootled off to give a seminar to the assembled designers and interested parties about judging and show gardens and garden design in general. It was a long seminar with many questions.
I am now also the (apparently) only foreign member of Russia’s largest ecological society. Founded 90 odd years ago by Lenin’s wife they are responsible for planting about 5 billion trees and do work to improve the street planting in towns and cities all over Russia. I have a very smart badge.

Lunch was bortsch and dumplings followed by more feedback. Then a couple of interviews and time for a very swift change and off to a Ukrainian restaurant for dinner. This involved a particular national speciality called, I think, sala. Paper thin slices of pig fat wrapped around a sliver of raw garlic – it melts in the mouth but I am not sure that I am in a hurry to eat it again. This was not all there were, I hasten to add, many delicious things that were less piggy in particular little savoury pastries called Pirojock which I could eat all day if called upon so to do.

More interestingly the restaurant was on the second floor and, on the other side of a glass partition was a large cow – chewing the cud and regarding the assembled diners with a look of abject scorn – a goat, a vast rabbit, some peacocks, a couple of golden pheasants and a very sturdy woman in national costume. It was very weird.

Friday
Home again, home again jiggetty jig via a certain amount of turbulence near Visby.

I am listening to Louise sin the Blue Moon by Alison Moorer.

*I have a very patient and diligent interpreter called Evgeny. He is a great pleasure to be with and is very good at his job. He also has an interesting mixture of pastimes. He looks very bland – which is his job as he is there to blend into the background – with a suit and tie but in his time off he has three cats, he reads an enormous amount, he goes to the gym and is a devotee of House dancing. He is a diamond.

** Russian social kissing involves three points of contact (right cheek, left cheek, right cheek again) so when you have thirty odd medals to give out and most of the awardees are women this takes quite a while and involves a lot of friction.

I know this is a very dull thing to say but I am jolly well going to say it anyway…

My goodness, how time flies past.

Another year, another Garden Media Guild shindig under our belts. This year, as you may already be aware, Three Men were officiating. We made a short film and then tarted about for a bit which is always a jolly a way of spending an afternoon. As you are also doubtless well aware, Mark Diacono won three consecutive awards which was very gratifying. If you like that vegetably sort of thing.

I managed to stick a piece of paper on his back saying “Kick Me” and noticed Lia Leendertz sharpening the toe of her Jimmy Choos as I left.

There was then the usual drunken shenanigans in the pub where the usual suspects fell over to general hilarity. If you are interested you can watch the whole ceremony (apart from the falling over bits) here. As always it was a very jolly occasion with a lot of moustaches in evidence. Movember is now over and we have raised a shade over £20,000. I am terribly proud of everybody: we exceeded my wildest expectations. At the beginning I just thought it would be quite fun and we could raise a few hundred quid, thank you to all who participated and especially to those who coughed up the cash. I made a short film to commemorate the occasion, the music is by Nick Riddle who snuck into our team with fraudulent bonafides: he is not a gardener but we forgive him because of the excellent whistling and faraway look.

Apart from all this glamorous swanning about at awards ceremonies and growing whiskers there has been work going on: well, if you count wandering around looking at rocks work. These are very big rocks and there are lots of them: the reason is that we are rebuilding a quarry.Let me explain, in one of my gardens is a big scrape in the ground – about 35 feet deep at its steepest – which used to be a quarry. The idea is to make it look sort of quarryish again by reinstalling big lumps of stone which will then be interesting to climb on and could be planted with ferns, trees and general stuff.

So Tuesday found me wandering around a vast site in Oxfordshire choosing monster rocks. I do love this sort of thing, I come over all Tonka truckish at the sight of large diggers and deep mud. Which is quite odd as I have never been very interested in cars, I had Dinky Cars but was never much of a Brrrm, Brrrm kind of child. I am left unmoved by Ferraris and Formula One but get very excited by a large digger and a deep trench. Anyway, we chose a selection of rocks which are now being slowly transported across to Gloucestershire, doubtless much to the annoyance of the traffic on the A44: my apologies if you find yourselves stuck behind a straining tractor.

I have also been to the RHS Garden at Hyde Hall. I had never been before and, now I am responsible in some small way for its upkeep, thought I had better show my face. It is the newest RHS Garden and is very much under development (there is a handsome newly dug lake), lots of trees are being planted, borders hewn from fields, the Dry Garden is being extended and new car parks built. I may not have chosen the best day for a visit as it was markedly chilly. The wind howled across battering the collection of christmas trees decorated by local branches of the WI which stand amongst the borders: I suspect that tinsel will be being picked from trees across Essex for months to come. Still, it was interesting and bracing and we got turkey for lunch. Oh, and the best bit was the live willow weaving. They have groups of pollarded willow in the borders that have been bunched together and tied into various shapes: very effective and sculptural.

Before you go, here is another film: this was made by a very clever fellow called Sebastian Solberg about Jeremy and Camilla Swift’s extraordinary garden in Wales. I arrived there after going to a memorial service (hence spiffy tie) and was immediately sat down and required to spout stuff. It is an extraordinary garden varying from pretty orchards to ruined hovels via high Classicism, steep woodlands, theatres, turtles and the Kingdom of the Moor. It is open for the NGS at some point: but for goodness sake, take a raincoat, it is Welsh Wales, after all.

I am listening to Wild america by Iggy Pop. The picture is of the aforementioned willows at Hyde Hall.

You catch me at a low ebb…

It was the Garden Media Guild Awards yesterday and it was my day to be bridesmaid and not get to wear the full meringue. This happened not just once: I got shortlisted twice but in the Blog of Year Category I lost out to the supremely deserving Lia Leendertz and in Journalist of the Year (which is a terribly grown up category) to Victoria Summerly (who not only writes beautifully but is a proper journalist rather than a part time chancer like me). Here is a picture of Carol Klein’s shoe (as is traditional). The heels are, apparently, excellent for dibbing.

It is an odd thing this awards lark. In the days leading up to the lunch there is a lot of anticipation and moments of both doubt and imagined triumph. Then one has a jolly time with nice people, lots of kissing (i) and slightly strange food – pudding was something called a Blackberry Tendance. When the actual moment comes, one is initially disappointed but soon gets over that and quickly becomes genuinely delighted that the people who won, won. If you get my drift. I guess it helps to lose to really nice people rather than cads and rotters.

If I carry on like this then I am going to sound insincere and make people feel queasy. Suffice to say that I have two runners-up certificates to cover up the blank spots of the wall.

May I extend hearty congratulations to not only Lia & Victoria but also to Mark Diacono (in spite of his barnyard ways with gentlemen’s tailoring).

Anne Wareham for her shiny new look ThinkinGardens website: even though she called me smug in a comment on my last post.(ii)

But most of all to Dawn Isaac for her best New Talent award. We need more new talent (iii) and, although only a bit new, she is extravagantly talented.

As a consolation prize I did win the Award for Best Dressed Gardener in Martyn Cox’s OMG Awards for the second year running. I have a certificate and my tailor will be thrilled and although I realise that it is just a sop to compensate for my being too over the hill to qualify the the Most Snoggable Award I am very pleased. My female equivalent is Laetitia Maklouf who has the edge on me by being not only well dressed but deeply gorgeous. I think we should learn to dance the Minuet together (iv): although she is probably already an accomplished ballroom dancer in possession of many proficiency badges and exotic dresses made mostly from stretchy fabrics.

On other matters you may remember my wittering on about the letter of complaint about me that was published in Gardeners World Magazine a month or so ago. For the keen the link is here, for those with better things to do I will paraphrase… “Am I the only one who thinks James A-S is really annoying?”

In response, some people emailed GW Magazine to express their opinions and the answer was that yes, some agreed wholeheartedly with the correspondent and James A-S is supremely irritating.

“I get so cross when I read the nonsense that emanates from the mouth of Mr Sinclair…”

but others (all of whom win my undying love) disagreed. I have, apparently done my bit for international relations…

“I am German and the first time I came across one I thought “hey,perhaps the British aren’t as stiff upper-lipped as their reputation” “

and marital harmony……

“James’ column…causes me to laugh out loud and I annoy my husband by reading it to him when he is trying to sleep”

Let us hope that he majority will have their way and I will continue to write the column until sacked by the Sainted Mr Adam Pasco.

By way of light relief, I shall introduce you to the latest Three Men Went To Mow offering. We spent a very jolly day at Kew Gardens last Thursday and this is the result.

[youtube clip_id=”Ui__ZgxGq9c”]

I am listening to Red Garters sung by Rosemary Clooney and the Paramount Studio Chorus.

Last year it was all so different.(Sniff!)

The picture is of Cedar cones.

It was particularly cold outside yesterday but very warm in the building. The secret in this situation is to adopt a two part strategy. On first entering (while still cold) only kiss people who have been there a while and have warmed up a bit. Then when warmed up start kissing those who have just arrived and are a bit cold. Works like a thermostat, but softer (except when kissing the slightly rugged and unshaven – eg Matthew Wilson, Terry Walton or Gary “Grizzlybeard” Rogers). Do not get carried away or you are liable to be ejected.
Believe it or not I was nominated for a new talent award once. I lost to Sarah Lancashire.
If you remember I ventured the opinion that, as most of AT’s programme was actually very good then one should ignore the odd things he wanders off to make. My point was, if I recall correctly, that gardening television (not Gardens per se) doesn’t matter so much that it is worth getting into a froth about. Some is good, some is not and it is better not to get worked up about it: if you want to get in a tither then go to the Daily Mail website or watch Question Time.
I learnt how to ballroom dance when I was about eleven. Sadly I have forgotten all of it except the basic waltz steps. Also as it was an all boys school and I was quite small I was always made to be the girl and had to dance backwards.