Plants with a story that begins in Japan. This collection gathers the trees, shrubs, and perennials of Japanese origin and heritage, from garden classics refined over centuries to the wild species behind them.
Cleyera japonica was for generations placed in the tea family, the Theaceae, alongside camellia and tea themselves, and the resemblance still reads in the glossy, leathery, deep green leaves. Later molecular study moved the genus out of that family and into the Pentaphylacaceae, so the old tea-family listing has since been dropped, though the kinship of appearance remains. In the plant's native Japan the species carries a sacred weight few garden shrubs can claim: this is the sakaki, written with a character that fuses the signs for tree and for god, and the branches are cut for tamagushi, the leafy wands offered at Shinto shrines for blessing and purification. Small, sweetly scented cream flowers open in early summer, followed by berries that ripen from red to black.
The Sago Palm is not a palm at all. Cycas revoluta belongs to the cycads, an ancient line of seed-bearing gymnosperms far closer to conifers than to any true palm, and the feathered crown is a case of convergent evolution rather than kinship. Cycads carried this same architecture through the age of the dinosaurs, which is part of what lends the Sago Palm such a primeval presence in a modern garden.
Hardiness
Zones 8–10
Light
Full Sun / Part Shade
Height
6–10 ft.
Spread
5–8 ft.
Plant type
Cycad
Traditional use
digestive health, respiratory support, topical applications, heart support
Distylium racemosum is the type species of the genus and the most tree-like of the isu trees, an evergreen member of the witch-hazel family, Hamamelidaceae. The genus name comes from the Greek for "two styles," for the paired styles at the center of each small flower, while the species epithet racemosum notes the short racemes along which those flowers are held.
The gold-edged form of silverthorn, and a genuinely useful evergreen for hard places. Leaves are leathery and wavy-margined, three inches or so long, glossy green through the middle with a broad creamy-gold border, and silvered underneath with a dusting of tiny brown scales that catches light when the wind turns them. In October and November the shrub produces small creamy-white bells, apetalous and easy to overlook entirely, which is a joke the plant plays every autumn: the flowers are nearly invisible and the scent is extraordinary, closer to gardenia than to anything else, and strong enough to stop people on a path while they work out where it is coming from. Small reddish-brown drupes follow in spring and are technically edible, though the birds are welcome to them.
Redvein enkianthus, Enkianthus campanulatus, is a refined deciduous shrub from the cool mountain woodlands of Japan, and the selection 'Rubrum' is the deepest-colored of the clan. In late spring the branches hang with dozens of small, waxy, bell-shaped flowers, but where the plain species opens in cream veined with pink, 'Rubrum' pours out flowers of rich, deep red, nodding in tidy clusters at the tips of each whorl of branches. Close up the bells look almost enameled; from a distance they veil the shrub in a soft red haze.
This striking, rather upright gardenia is a Woodlanders introduction that has since become more widely available, grown less for bloom than for the boldly marked leaves. Each glossy leaf is splashed and margined in strong yellow, so the whole shrub reads as a soft fountain of gold and green, a rare thing among broadleaf evergreens and a bright note for a shaded corner.
Hosta 'Tardiflora' announces the best trait in the name itself: tardiflora means late-flowering, and this small Japanese hosta is very nearly the last of the tribe to bloom, lifting lavender flowers in fall when most hostas have already finished and begun to tire. The plant traces back to the wild Hosta longipes, the long-stalked giboshi of Japan's rocky mountain slopes, where the species clings to cliffs and streambanks; 'Tardiflora' is a distinct, late seedling form long grown as a garden plant in its own right.
Ilex integra is the holly for people who do not think they like hollies, an evergreen tree from Japan whose leaves carry no spines at all. The dark green foliage is smooth-edged, glossy, and thick, giving a clean, almost magnolia-like calm, and on female trees the show comes in fall and winter, when bright red berries gather along the branches against the deep green.
Ilex mutchagara is a quiet, graceful evergreen holly from Okinawa, close enough to the familiar Japanese holly, Ilex crenata, that some botanists treat it as a form of that species. The small, glossy, dark green leaves carry fine teeth along the edges but no spines at all, and the habit is open and airy rather than dense, giving the shrub a lighter, more relaxed look than the tightly sheared boxwood-substitutes it resembles.
Ilex 'Raritan Chief' is a male winterberry with a long working day. A compact hybrid of the native winterberry, Ilex verticillata, and the Japanese winterberry, Ilex serrata, this deciduous holly was bred as a pollinizer rather than a show plant, and a long bloom season makes 'Raritan Chief' one of the most flexible pollinizers in the group.
The horticulturist Scott Ogden, in Garden Bulbs for the South, sets the scene: the Japanese roof iris, Iris tectorum, is famous in the native country as a flower for planting on sod roofs, just as houseleeks are used on the cottage roofs of France. In gardens the silky green fans of leaves form large patches, a fine subject for the foreground of a shady border, and in April the ruffled, orchid-like blooms appear among the handsome leaves. In the common form these are a rich mottled blue with white crests; even lovelier, Ogden adds, are the white, yellow-crested blooms of the form offered here.
The horticulturist Scott Ogden, in Garden Bulbs for the South, sets the scene: the Japanese roof iris, Iris tectorum, is famous in the native country as a flower for planting on sod roofs, just as houseleeks are used on the cottage roofs of France. In gardens the silky green fans of leaves form large patches, a fine subject for the foreground of a shady border, and in April the ruffled, orchid-like blooms appear among the handsome leaves. This is the common form, in which the flowers open a rich mottled blue, veined and freckled toward the center, with white crests.
Among crape myrtles, Lagerstroemia fauriei is the aristocrat grown as much for bark as for bloom. A small, multi-stemmed, deciduous tree from Yakushima Island in southern Japan, first brought to botanical attention in the 1950s, the species reaches a graceful twenty-five to thirty-five feet with a rounded, vase-shaped crown. The summer flowers are white, carried in airy terminal panicles that are smaller and more delicate than the heavy trusses of the familiar Lagerstroemia indica.
Magnolia stellata 'Royal Star' is the star magnolia at its best, a hardy, rounded shrub that opens its first flowers at the very end of winter, well before the leaves, in a froth of white, many-petaled stars. Each bloom carries a dozen or more narrow, strap-like tepals that give a soft, feathery look, and the whole plant can vanish under bloom in a good year, sweetly fragrant into the bargain.
The Meiwa kumquat is the sweet one, the kumquat you can pop whole into your mouth and eat skin and all. A small, tidy, evergreen citrus, Fortunella crassifolia carries round, bright orange fruit a little over an inch across, and where most kumquats offer a sweet rind wrapped around sharply sour pulp, the Meiwa softens the contrast: the peel is thick and honey-sweet, the flesh only mildly tart, so the whole fruit eats like candy off the branch.
There is something almost meditative about Nageia nagi. Named from the Japanese word nagi, meaning both calm and to mow down one's troubles, this ancient conifer carries a quiet gravitas few trees can match. At the Nyakuoji Shrine in Kyoto a sacred nagi tree has stood for centuries, believed to cut through hardship and leave peace in its wake, and sprigs of nagi have long passed between lovers as a token of steadfast devotion, the leaves too tough and resilient to tear easily, a metaphor that has endured for a thousand years.
Grown for the leaf rather than the flower, 'Goshiki' is the most colorful of the holly osmanthus. The name means five colors in Japanese, and the spiny, holly-like evergreen leaves earn it: flecked and mottled with cream and yellow against dark green, and flushed at every new growth with startling pink and orange that slowly settles to gold and green. The species name heterophyllus, from the Greek for different-leaved, fits the whole clan, whose juvenile leaves bristle with holly teeth while older ones smooth to entire margins.
Patrinia scabiosifolia 'Nagoya' is a tough, upright perennial from the meadows and grassy hills of East Asia, grown for airy, flat-topped heads of tiny golden-yellow flowers held high on wiry, branching stems. The species name scabiosifolia points to the deeply lobed basal leaves, which recall those of a scabious, and the whole plant reads as a chartreuse-gold answer to Queen Anne's lace, lending height and a see-through veil to a summer border. In Japan the species is one of the classic seven flowers of autumn, and 'Nagoya' is a garden selection prized for reliable, compact performance.
Podocarpus macrophyllus, the yew pine, is a familiar evergreen conifer grown as a shrub or small tree across the southern United States, valued for dense, dark, strap-like leaves several inches long and a tidy, upright frame. 'Okina' is the variegated form, a relatively recent introduction from Japan, whose new growth emerges creamy white before settling to soft green.
