December 2010

DECEMBER 2010

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LONNY LITERARY LONNY LITERARY and color. The ashes from the surrounding volcanoes made Nicaraguan soil among the most fertile in the world, yielding vegetation so vivid that I learned to pair hues from the most astonishing rainbow palette. Nature presented its designs and taught me how to curate them. Compared with those magnificent Central American oases, the plants in this Houston courtyard seemed paltry indeed and in desperate need of care. At the time, I was searching for a new place to live. I’d looked at plenty of apartments, but I felt an instant connection with Isabella Court. That day, I was only on a short lunch break and barely had time to look around. But I told the rental agent I wanted to sign the lease immediately. I knew the courtyard had the potential to be a masterpiece garden; all it needed was a master gardener. And there I was. THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ROOM I EVER SAW... Designer Vernon Caldera remembers one special Christmas at Houston’s historic Isabella Court he first time I visited Isabella Court—a palatial old Spanish Colonial apartment building in midtown Houston—I stared around its courtyard in wonder. Occupying most of the building’s top two floors, it soared up before me to the glistening skylight above. Open arches, painted in vibrant shades of empress yellow, indigo, and burgundy, lined white stucco walls that appeared to be in a state of delicately preserved decay. Psychedelic ceramic tiles covered the floor of a patio scattered with wrought iron tables and chairs and strewn with potted plants. I’d never seen anything like it, at least not in Houston. That courtyard took me back to the lush gardens of my native Nicaragua, and to the doñas who oversaw them with absolute artistry. Throughout my childhood in that sultry climate, 40 Lonny december 2010 T we’d practically lived outdoors. My godmother’s house had been designed by her architect husband around a series of gardens culminating in a sunken, openair Eden complete with hanging baskets and macaws. As a young boy, I considered this my stage. The plants were my playmates and props: leaves from the papyrus made ideal improvised wigs, and, when mixed with water, the red dust from the achiote seeds proved an excellent stand-in for blood. It was through gardening that I became an artist. As soon as she’d let me, I started helping my mother select plants for our house. She taught me to spot an interesting shape, to recognize a compelling color or rare spice. The Corazon de Jesus, for instance, was always a reliable source of remarkable shape After I moved into Isabella Court, I became the building’s unofficial groundskeeper. With watering can in hand, I chatted with my neighbors as I set about transforming the courtyard, spending almost as much time there as in my apartment. I started with tropical ferns, slowly graduating to aralias, ficus, and air plants, as well as a garden club–worthy selection of succulents and Tim Burtonesque cacti. Then I set about reviving the existing, exhausted plants, and, as if by horticultural osmosis, they too started to thrive. The courtyard at Christmastime Vernon Caldera Exterior views of Isabella Court 2010 december Lonny 41