The landscaper, the nuns and the forest of the future

“This is what we have done for many hundreds of years,” says Abbess Monika Thumm, director of Kloster Mariazell, a convent on the postcard-perfect north shore of Lake Zurich. She explains how her Catholic order of Cistercian nuns places a bean in a box to cast her vote when making decisions. “White is yes and black is no,” adds Sister Andrea Fux, as she opens the drawer that reveals the result. “Every monastery has a box like this.” Each result is duly archived.

Fifteen years ago, the voting method was used when the community was asked to lease neighboring land to the Italian landscape architect Enzo Enea. The bean count gave a “yes,” recalls Abbess Monika, a vivacious 70-year-old who joined the convent in 1984. “We were very enthusiastic about his proposal. It’s a beautiful use of land.” The nuns welcomed their “green neighbor”.

Since then, Enea and her landlady have established a harmonious and charming relationship, friendship and collaboration. When the convent church was renovated in 2010-11, for example, Enea redesigned the gardens, which are pretty and easy to maintain, producing a constant stream of cut flowers, herbs for making teas and tinctures, and fruit for jams: jars of which are sold by Enea. Of the convent’s head gardener, Sister Ruth, Enea exclaims: “She’s wonderful. She is my friend.”

But signing the initial 99-year lease required a leap of faith for Enea. “It was more or less a swamp,” he recalls of the land he set out to drain by planting trees, specifically Taxodium distichum, or bald cypress, a species native to southern America. “I invested and built and hoped and prayed that it would work out.”

I want people to think about the nature that we have lost.

In this, “Enea is a bit like a monk,” Sister Andrea suggests, explaining that when the Cistercian order was founded in France in 1098, “monks were very close to nature. They reclaimed and cultivated vacant land and had methods to drain the swamps.” Today, the 7.5-hectare parcel is accessed along a driveway lined with statuesque bald cypress trees, opening onto a lush landscape. The space supports 3,300 trees and houses Enea’s workshops and design offices, clustered around an elegant glass-lined showroom. The company employs some 240 people and the team has created private gardens from Basel to Bogotá, for clients including the late Tina Turner and Sabeeka Bint Ibrahim Al-Khalifa, wife of the King of Bahrain, as well as hotel projects such as the Mandarin Oriental. in Beverly Hills and the Peninsula properties in Istanbul and London.

Trained as an industrial designer before turning to gardens, Enea is known for combining a knack for planting mature trees with technical savvy, especially when tackling challenging garden spaces like rooftops. Other facets of Enea’s universe, however, are more personal. First of all, there is her collection of ancient vessels. “Some are Roman, 2,000 years old, others are Greek and Turkish. It’s a Medici original,” she points out, pointing to two large outdoor storage shelves. “They were all collected by my father in the 1960s and 1970s,” she continues, explaining how her father’s business of manufacturing, importing and marketing sandstone and terracotta pots for outdoor plants was the starting point of her own career as a landscaper.

Perhaps most important, though, is his trove of “trees that people would have cut down and thrown away,” he says, pointing to a red-leaved Japanese maple salvaged from a nearby construction project. “Replanting old trees is our specialty. It is very difficult to do. You have to dig by hand, so you can see exactly which root is doing what, and then cut them a certain way.” His method is based on the bonsai technique, extended to mature trees and using a mycelium fungus to encourage the growth of new networks between the roots. The impetus is ecological: “If you cut down a 200-year-old tree, you have to replant it 2000 new to produce the same amount of oxygen.

Fifty of Enea’s best rescued specimens, each at least 100 years old, are gathered in her Tree Museum, a distinct space lined with Palladian gateposts (salvaged by her father) and yew hedges. The latter is symbolic for Enea: “The Celts and the Romans wrapped the bodies of their kings in yew when they died, and it is also used in chemotherapy, it is a transition plant between life and death.” It is a mirror of the state of humanity today, he says. “Here, I am showing what could keep us alive. The most important thing is oxygen. I want people to think about the nature that we have lost and how we must recover the balance”.

Treetopia is a forest of the future and a vision of what could be

This balance is partially quantifiable. “We are also a laboratory here,” adds Enea, whose tree-lined farm has its own microclimate, recently measured by drone studies in partnership with the Eastern Swiss University of Applied Sciences in the nearby town of Rapperswil to be four or five degrees. colder. than the surrounding area. But the Tree Museum is also profoundly poetic. “The first tree you see is the crabapple, in another day it will bloom, boom, and then the second is a crabapple.” Some of the trees are “framed” with sandstone slabs (remnants of her father’s pottery-making business) and a French chateau conservatory wall (courtesy of Sotheby’s) will be blooming with roses this month.

There are also works of art scattered about: from a trio of high-gloss mushroom sculptures by the Swiss artist Silvia Fleury to brightly colored beehives by German concept artist olaf nicolai, which are found next to working hives. “I look for art that helps me find a dialogue with nature,” explains Enea. He ugo rondinone meanwhile, a sculpture’s stack of stone slabs is a nod to its neighbours, one of a series titled nuns + monks. “He showed us a photo of the nun sculptures on his phone and asked us what we thought; if she should buy one, ”says Sister Andrea. “We said, ‘Why not!’”

In many ways, walking across the street to the Kloster Mariazell is like stepping back in time. The building dates back to the 13th century and the sound of the bells fills the air: they are attached to the necks of a herd of goats. Inside the church, Sister Andrea begins to sing, demonstrating the room’s enviable acoustics. She gives me goosebumps. “Can you imagine the nuns living here 800 years ago, surrounded only by forests and wolves?” Enea adds as an encore. “How they have created this way of life in connection with nature, staying true to their beliefs until death. I see myself as an extension of some of their beliefs.”

But the Sisters are far from isolated from the world. post as @klostermariazell on Instagram, they just posted the bookay Meinst du mich, Gott? (You mean me, God?) and runs an online boutique. They also take in refugees from the Ukraine, as well as run what they call the Time Out programme, a kind of work retreat for people who “need to take time to look at their lives and where they’re going,” Abbess explains. Monica. “They can stay here for €100 a month; they pray with us and work three days a week,” Sister Andrea continues, adding that daily chores include baking bread, making candles and tending to the garden. “Working in nature, getting your hands dirty with the earth, ground you,” adds Abbess Monika. “The feedback we get is that it really helps, that they have found their way.”

One of Enea’s team helps with the gardening portion of the program at the convent. And at the Enea headquarters, former Time Out participant Dominik now works in his practice. Enea is currently conspiring with her landlady to expand this holistic offering. “We still don’t know exactly which direction we’re going to go in,” he says, referring to the burgeoning concept of creating a Future Skills Academy.

“Enea is someone who has a vision,” says Abbess Monika. “I admire her ability to go beyond the superficial and dig a little deeper into the meaning of things. This is something that connects the two of us.” Another connection is her trees; the Kloster Mariazell has recently ceded an area of ​​first growth forest to local forestry to create a nature reserve. “It is a biodiversity project for scientific monitoring,” says Abbess Monika. “New mosses are growing, very rare lichens, and insects are coming back. They have discovered beetles that have never been seen before in Switzerland.”

Later this month, Enea will bring her vision to art basel (from June 15 to 18), creating an installation of trees in the central courtyard of the fair. “We have built Treetopia: a forest of the future and a vision of what could be,” she says. “He shows how green spaces can be integrated into more urban design and argues that we need to save trees to save ourselves.” Amid the bustle of the art world, it will be a space for quiet contemplation. Sister Andrea approves: “Just taking time, when everything happens so fast, frees up the mind. It is so important”.