This intimate woodland-style garden, glorious in late spring, is as much the result of the forces of nature as its curator’s guiding hand
WORDS INA SPERL PHOTOGRAPHS SABRINA ROTHE
When Linda Zimmermann first set foot on the grounds of her Fuchsgrube garden, she was put off. “I did not want to live in a cemetery,” she says, referring to the impression she had upon seeing the thicket of over-mature trees and large rhododendrons that came right up to the house, spreading darkness and a claustrophobic feeling. It’s hard to imagine this scene now, 20 years later, as your gaze wanders over the expanse of lawn with perfectly placed trees, and the promise of mysterious woodland beyond.
Fuchsgrube garden lies on the outskirts of Mülheim, a city in the Ruhr region of western Germany, a highly urbanised industrial area, where air pollution was high in the early 20th century. Linda and her husband Wolfgang’s house is part of a ‘garden city’ that was built in 1912 to provide fresh air to residents. Their grounds are located next to a nature reserve, and are not suitable for building on – which is why Linda’s garden is exceptionally large and has a park-like atmosphere.
When the couple arrived in 2003, they decided to take down 120 old trees that were at risk of collapsing, resulting in the wide-open space Linda longed for. Fortunately, an impressive northern red oak (Quercus rubra) was healthy and could remain standing. The first tree Linda planted herself was a Cornus controversa, which she had long been smitten with because of its radiance against the tapestry of dark shrubs. Intuitively placed in the right spot, it works as an eye-catcher, brightening up the darkest area of the garden. Linda has a fine sense of proportion and harmony. She comes from an artistically minded family, and studied at the art academy of Stuttgart, so it is no surprise that for 30 years, she was in charge of the art collection of a regional state bank.
However, as Linda was creating a new sense of space in the garden, drawing inspiration from art and arboretums, Storm Kyrill met the garden with its destructive force in January 2007. Its impact left the garden completely changed. A total of 320 trees fell down, and new paths had to be cut into the woods to take them out. “That was devastating,” says Linda, “but it also gave me the chance to think anew.”
Her response, the resulting redesign of the garden, means that if you visit now, once you have crossed the large lawn and left behind the large ‘Cunningham’s White’ rhododendron
