The Naked Truth
Lessons from working with deciduous trees
 

 MANY WESTERN bonsai artists I have spoken to express a preference for conifers, and some deny any interest at all in deciduous species. Perhaps this is a result of what I call the 'demonstration syndrome'... the pressure for rapid results. It is certainly widely influenced by the innovative work of Masahiko Kimura.

It could be said that, by specialising, the artist becomes more proficient in his chosen discipline and is therefore more able to challenge conventional artistic frontiers. On the other hand, there is always the danger that some aspects of bonsai may fall victim to fashion and become neglected or even disappear completely. Is it possible that the role of deciduous species in bonsai art could be under such a threat?

There is a clear distinction in mood and emotion between coniferous and deciduous bonsai... although neither is superior. But deciduous trees have an added dimension: the image profoundly changes each season, and with it the spirit also changes.

In spring, tiny buds burst to reveal minute, perfectly-formed leaves, like a baby's finger nails. The tree is vibrant with colour and full of promise. In summer, more heavily laden with foliage, deciduous bonsai are subject to more or less the same aesthetic criteria as conifers. In autumn we are rewarded by yet another change of character, this time a triumphant finale to the passing season.

But in winter the tree stands cold and naked, nothing can be hidden from view. The true souls of both the tree and its artist are exposed to the world's scrutiny.

Whether the tree is proud of its nakedness, or shamed by it, depends entirely on the competence and sensitivity of the artist. When displaying a conifer in winter the artist says, 'Look what I have done'. By displaying a deciduous bonsai in winter he also says, 'Look how I did it'.

With deciduous bonsai, therefore, branch structure is of paramount importance. Branches trained in unnatural lines, merely to fill a space with foliage, are a symptom of the lust for rapid results, regardless of species. Although also unacceptable in conifers, at least such contrivances are hidden from view all year. You may know they exist, but the world does not. It is for each artist to decide whether he can live comfortably with this knowledge. But without foliage to conceal them, such unscrupulous branches will cause any bonsai to lose its integrity. Is the integrity truly preserved simply because the fault is hidden from view?

Deciduous species also offer just as broad a range of images and emotions as those offered by conifers. The shapes may differ. The 'visual language' such as jin, shari, branch lines, colour and texture may change. But the image of an ancient oak, as old as time itself, tortured by centuries of attack, or a thrusting maple, vibrant with joyful vitality, can fill your heart, stir your soul and sing just as sweetly as any conifer.

Deciduous bonsai cannot be rushed. There is no formula for producing a seemingly established image in one session. Deciduous bonsai must be created slowly, a combination of vision, forward planning and adapting what nature presents each cycle. Branches must be built, year by year... each new shoot guided by wire until the entire network is complete. They become brittle at an early age, so once the work has been done it cannot be changed. The ghosts of mistakes made many years ago return each winter to haunt you.

The discipline of building branches in this way, the attitude of mind required to embark on a long-term project and, above all, the need for absolute integrity in your work, are all valuable lessons. Moreover, once learned, they serve to improve the integrity of all your bonsai, deciduous or coniferous.

 

 


In spring, tiny buds burst to
reveal minute, perfectly-formed
leaves, like a baby's finger nails.