The perils of an autumn Chelsea Flower Show

Once upon a time, the Royal Horticultural Society staged a Great Autumn Show every September in their two Horticultural Halls off Vincent Square in London. It was a fine mixture of colourful nursery trade exhibitions and fiercely-fought amateur competitions, involving fruits, flowers and glowing foliage (Who could forget the amusing annual battle between the Dukes of Marlborough and Devonshire - or rather their head gardeners - over the prize for the best bunch of glasshouse grapes?). The Great Autumn Show was almost as much a draw to Londoners as Chelsea Flower Show in May, and to those ‘in the know’ it was as fashionable, but the last one was staged in 2007, after which the RHS successively downgraded its metropolitan shows, then moved them out to provincial centres or its gardens in the country.

I had high hopes, then, for the first Chelsea Flower Show ever to be held in September (it runs this week from Tuesday until Sunday), the RHS having made the brave decision in January to put on a show in the grounds of the Royal Hospital Chelsea, even though existing Covid restrictions ruled out anything in late May. But, in truth, I was a little disappointed.

Of course, plant nursery people, who are used to exhibiting their wares at the beginning of the season, were bound to find it difficult to produce their best for the end of it, so a number of big players were absent. Hillier Nurseries, the tree and shrub concern, which for decades has occupied the central Monument site in the Great Pavilion, kept away, as did Hardy’s Cottage Garden Plants, the successor in talent and flair to Beth Chatto’s Unusual Plants. And I sorely missed the life-enhancing, superbly professional displays we’ve come to expect from international exhibitors, like South Africa’s Kirstenbosch National Botanical Garden and the Barbados Horticultural Society.

There were no glorious stands of roses from Peter Beales or David Austin but, to its credit, Harkness Roses managed an attractive stand of repeat-flowering roses, even though there were no specimens of their new, pink, fragrant, ‘The Queen Elizabeth II Rose’, since all the bushes were cut back in summer to provide propagation material, in time for the Platinum Jubilee in 2022. Hats off also to Raymond Evison of Guernsey, for his striking display of clematis, for WS Warmenhoven for their alliums, cut in Dutch fields and kept fresh in the ‘cooler’, Hoyland’s nerines and agapanthus – naturally autumn-flowering bulbs, of course - and Medwyn’s of Anglesey, for the usual, extraordinarily accomplished and colourful display of vegetables staged by the Williams family. Because of variable temperatures in spring, Chelsea Flower Show is always a strain for exhibitors, but this year many admitted that their nerves had been positively shredded.

The absence of some big nurseries did give a wonderful opportunity to smaller concerns, who would not normally expect to be invited to show at the RHS’ premier event: Ashcroft’s Perennials, for example, whose accomplished display of ornamental grasses won a Gold medal; Greenjjam for penstemons (also Gold); and Middleton Nurseries (Silver-Gilt) for salvias.

Salvias, together with rudbeckias, helianthus, Michaelmas daisies, Japanese anemones and grasses, were predictably prominent in the plantings which formed the ‘soft landscape’ of the show gardens along Main Avenue. There were only six of these, of which the best, for my money, was the M & G Garden, designed by the Harris Bugg Studio, as a ‘pocket park’ in an urban space, and built by Crocus. Sustainability was a big theme everywhere – as usual.

The RHS acknowledged the fact that 3 million more people have turned to gardening during the pandemic, by introducing ‘Balcony’, ‘Container’ and ‘Sanctuary’ themes in the smaller show gardens category. And there was also a serious attempt to showcase houseplants, which are often the Cinderella at Chelsea. After all, many of those ‘newbies’ do not own or rent so much as a square metre of ground. It’s a pity that the show ticket price for non-members, even on the last day, is £83.75, which means, I’m guessing, that most of those new gardeners won’t get to Chelsea; but the RHS does run a decent website and Instagram account, and the BBC provides coverage each evening, so with luck they will catch a glimpse of it.

This year’s show did not avoid the pleasant melancholy of early autumn, what with pumpkins and squashes, dahlias and chrysanthemums, tomatoes and cucumbers - for all the world like a secular Harvest Festival. The promise and adventurousness of May is a very different thing. Visitors this week will enjoy the unaccustomed space, the lack of queues, the chance to talk to nursery people without being chivvied along in an ever-rolling stream of humanity. But I’d be surprised if they were not nostalgic for the variety, the pzazz, the stylish nonsense, the sheer pretentiousness, even the creeping exhaustion of earlier years. Deo volente, all that will be back next May.