This is the seventh and final post picturing my trips to Biodynamic farms in 2023 and 2024.
The background to these visits is the research for my forthcoming book “The Garden”, which is due to be published by Repeater in 2025. There’s a very thoroughly researched chapter on Steiner, agriculture, and the Hippies at the front of it.
I was extremely fortunate to meet, beforehand, director of the Apricot Centre Rachel Phillips. Visiting Devon this summer for my tiny 5-day yearly holiday, I took the opportunity to drop in and see the market garden and CSA she runs with legendary Biodynamic grower Marina O’Connell. I came across Marina’s work some time previously when, visiting Steiner House, I was recommended and bought a copy of her excellent book Designing Regenerative Food Systems.
Nobody was around when, this time with the beautiful Mrs Ingram, we dropped under invitation to see the exquisite site. The pollinator garden of flowers was particularly special and welcome to see. My aunt recently remarked to me that a visit by car to Devon in the sixties would leave a car’s windscreen thick with dead bugs – and that today there will be practically none.
Everything was bursting with life, though there were the telltale signs that the year’s growing season was coming to an end.
This is the sixth instalment of the seven posts on Biodynamic farming.
I came across Jason Warland online – reached out to him – and so when travelling back from a conference in Wales arranged to drop in and see him. He works in the gardens at Ruskin Mill outside Stroud as a therapist helping young people. He’s astonishingly knowledgable about the history of Steiner’s thought, and also on the topic of growing – entirely self-educated as far as I’m aware.
Jason is something of a superstar in his own right, as he contributes a column on Biodynamics to one of Rick Rubin’s channels. I didn’t know this before we met in person, and it was funny when Jason told me, because I suspect I was the first person he’d ever mentioned it to who knew who Rick Rubin was.
It was a beautiful evening on Sunday July 7th and we walked up a narrow valley past vegetable gardens, fish ponds, flowforms, past a wood and a pottery workshop. Then we turned left up a steep hill through Park Wood to Gables Farm. This is the main growing centre with whole fields, the characteristic attendant livestock, poly tunnels, and composting site.
Thanks so much to Jason for showing me around. I am so grateful.
The climax of this Biodynamically-packed day was a visit to Emerson College itself. I had a little snoop around, checking out the bookshop, where I found a few reduced-price bargains in a box on the floor.
The previous day I had discovered that the celebrated author and herbalist, Kirsten Hartvig, who is resident at the Rachel Carson Centre at Emerson College, was running one of her amazing nature walks.
Kirsten took us out into the countryside around Emerson College, where we nibbled and chewed an amazing range of local wild plants. In many respects it reminded me of the blogger’s walks we undertook twenty years ago along the Lea Valley (with K-punk and Heronbone), but somehow occurring on a more profound level as our group were truly integrated into, and understanding, the surrounding nature – not just observing the city’s dislocation and rewilding at the periphery.
The star of the tour was the Yarrow which Kirsten swears by and drinks in an infusion many times every day. I bought three plants from her and put them in a large pot on my roof garden. I think one might have been enough because their growth was out of hand, and they ended up choking each other. I’m hoping next year, when it grows back, that I can manage it better.
My third visit of the day was to Tablehurst Farm. It is possibly the most renowned of the local Biodynamic farms. Once connected to Emerson College, the agricultural wing of it so-to-speak, for many years it has operated autonomously. It abuts the college.
Notable sights here were the enormous water-tower-sized barrels for making Steiner’s preparations at massive scale. This featured impressive Steinerite flowforms that are visible in the photo. The huge compost mounds were also remarkable. I thought that the pigs and chickens seemed especially happy and lively.
Thomas Fairchild (1667-1729) was an English gardener who was based in Hoxton, Shoreditch, a stone’s throw away from me here on Old Street. Fairchild corresponded with the Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus, establishing with him the existence of sex in plants.
Fairchild is famous for scientifically producing an artificial hybrid Dianthus Caryophyllus barbatus which was a cross between a Carnation and a Sweet William. This was earth-shattering stuff, and the god-fearing Fairchild kept the secret for a number of years before finally presenting it to the Royal Society when he lied, claiming it was accidentally created.
The flower, known as Fairchild’s mule (the mule, a cross between a horse and a donkey which cannot breed), did not produce seed which would grow. We now know that this is because the Carnation and Sweet William are, in botanical terms, too-distant relatives of one another.
Fairchild wrote a book which is of interest to London-based growers. In it, he writes of our tiny city gardens, “nosegays”, “where a little is only to be had, we should be content with a little.”
Fairchild’s Garden, at the foot of Columbia Road flower market, was once a very scruffy park, but Hackney council has recently renovated it. It’s looking quite spiffing I must say…
Here one can read the memorial stone which was erected many years later over his earthly remains.
I thought it was a nice gesture to leave a couple of flowers on top of the stone. A Zinnia and Rudbeckia grown in my own garden.
I must have cycled past the Calthorpe Community Garden a hundred times. I’ve been considering venues for the launch of “The Garden”, and I thought it might be a good place, so resolved to go inside and have a look around. It was a lovely, hot day, in the middle of August.
This “Green Oasis in the Heart of King’s Cross” has been open since 1984.
One walks in across a wooden bridge suspended over a shaded hollow.
It’s a large enough site to have its own signpost!
And map.
Right at the back there are raised beds, a poly tunnel, and a double-bayed compost heap.
There’s a corner where one can buy plants. I picked up a Helichrysum italicum. A curry plant.
Pride of place must go to an impressive Ridan Composter which is great at processing food waste. You add an equal measure of wood chip to your waste, crank the handle, and two to four weeks later you get a partially composted soil out of the bottom. This then needs to compost more on a heap.
Goodbye, Calthorpe Community Garden! Maybe I will be back again soon.
I don’t have much in the way of garden equipment: a trowel (which I bought, somewhat ironically, from No Dig guru Charles Dowding), some secateurs, a couple of watering cans, some propagating trays, a soil blocker, and some gloves. I like it like that.
However, my son bought me a dibber for my birthday. And it’s a very nice thing! The perfect complement to my seed cells.
Here I transplanted some zinnia seedlings into a planting box.
Out they come, and in they go!
And here they are a month or so later. Note the copper tape, which seems to work to repel slugs…
It feels like yesterday, but it was two years ago in June 2022 that I first went to Steiner House in London. It is situated just west of Regent’s Park.
The visit reminded me of my drop-in to Cecil Sharp House way back in 2007. That, on the north side of Regent’s Park, is another building-as-ideological-portal. However, in that case the agenda was English Folk Arts, and in this it is the Anthroposophical ideas of Rudolf Steiner.
I chose that Saturday because there was going to be a market stall open selling biodynamic produce from a variety of growers. This is where I bought this delicious apple juice.
On the ground floor there is a bookshop. It stocks many of Steiner’s own titles, largely lectures he gave which were dutifully transcribed and published, but also books by a wide range of authors on subjects, many not directly relating to Steiner thought. It’s a very interesting shop and has a more diverse offering than for instance than that at Swedenborg House.
The exterior of the building, as you can see from the opening photo, has this wonderfully eccentric art-deco styling. And this is carried on into the building’s interior.
In the stairwell cavity, there is what looks like a glass flowform. These are Steiner’s ritualistic sculptures, which are designed to energise water. It would be great one day to visit the Goetheanum in Switzerland and see more of this quirky architecture.
This shelf of art books caught my eye. I do like it that Anthroposophy covers the full range of human experience in the cosmos; from the most “spiritual” and etheric to the most “grounded” and integrated.
These boxes contain back issues of The Golden Blade, the Anthroposophical journal.
Steiner 101Steiner 102
As I was making my way out, I asked the librarian which of Steiner’s own books that he would recommend for a neophyte. He selected the following for me How To Know Higher Worlds, Theosophy, and Occult Sceince. I’ve subsequently read these three, and they are certainly interesting, the first being the most indispensable.
In fact, my own recommendation to a beginner would be Steiner’s Autobiography The Story of my Life, which I think gives one a better idea of where he was coming from. The librarian also recommended the two books on the right as good supplementary reading. I haven’t read them…yet. If you get the opportunity, it’s definitely worth visiting Steiner House.
Towards the end of June and the wet weather we’ve had has collided with the glorious sunshine, making everything very lush. It’s looking so beautiful and the bees and hover flies are enjoying themselves.
But there’s more to come. The dahlias, zinnias, echinacea, and poppies have yet to bloom. My neighbours, who look down on me, tell me they are enjoying it.
