Before and after the annual cut.

This summer, Haven will be in bloom for its third year. Along with my collaborators (Eleanor and Russell of Denman+Gould) I am delighted to tell you that Southbank Centre has extended the project until September 2027.

It’s going to be fascinating to see how our pocket of urban meadow continues to develop in this central London location.

Last week, Eleanor and I returned to the Southbank for Haven’s annual spring cut.

Why does the Haven meadow need to be cut annually?

An annual cut is necessary to ensure the continued wellbeing of the meadow. We leave it as late as possible (until early March), in order to leave the habitat and food source provided by the seedheads over winter.

Once the meadow is cut, the cuttings are removed and composted.

Cutting the sward enables light and air to reach the earth below. This allows annual and perennial seeds – fallen from last year’s wildflowers – to germinate. It also helps to control the grasses that would otherwise take over if left uncut.

Teasel seedheads providing a food source for birds over winter; some of the one year old teasels grown from seed.

__

The multifunctional wild teasel

After the cut, we planted one-year-old common teasel plants (Dipsacus fullonum) into the meadow turf. Last year, I grew these from seed (collected from teasels growing wild in verges near my house). Teasels are biennial so hopefully these plants will flower this summer.

shelter and food for wildlife

The new teasels will supplement those already at Haven: goldfinches in particular love teasel seeds; ladybirds like to spend the winter in the plants’ hollow stalks.

Nature’s rain gauges

The form of teasel plants means that, instead of rain running off the leaves, it runs down the stems and is collected in ‘cups’ where the leaf meets the stem, like a natural gauge used to measure rain water.

The collected water can remain in its leafy vessel for some time. When the surrounding grass and earth are dry, the teasel has its own supply of water to draw on.

‘Teasel water’ in traditional medicine

Water collected by teasel plants has long been thought to have rejuvenating powers. In the eighteenth century, teasel water was believed to remove freckles. And some people still use this water today, to sooth itchy eyes caused by hay fever.

Teasel seedheads at *Haven* after its first year.

Teasels, textiles and knitwear

In the past, teasel heads were also invaluable to the textile industry. The small, hooked spikes that cover the conical flower heads were used to ‘tease’ out and separate fibres of wool before spinning, a process known as carding.

In the present day, teasels are still used in textile manufacturing. Machines with rotating arrays of teasels are used to brush the surface of woollen knitwear, to give a particularly fluffy finish.

Although I wouldn’t recommend teasel water for freckles, as we increasingly recognise the need to live in a more sustainable way, we can learn a lot from the way we have used plants in the past – and how they were integrated into our daily lives and processes, in a multitude of ways.

Eleanor and I planting foxgloves and teasels into the meadow turf – you can see the self-seeded tree in both photos.

__

Ecological succession taking place at the Southbank Centre

As we were cutting the wildflowers, we were surprised to find that a tree had self-seeded into the middle of Haven. It’s likely to be an apple tree grown from a stray pip: there are potted apple trees on the roof garden directly above Haven, and we have found many fallen apples on Haven itself. Once the leaves have emerged we’ll be able to definitively identify the seedling.

Even in small pockets of wildness in central London, it’s amazing how quickly the process of ecological succession take place. Trees form a key part of this process.

What is ecological succession?

Ecological succession involves a directional, predictable change in the structure and species composition of an ecosystem over time. For example, an abandoned farm field usually will gradually transform into a meadow, then a shrubland and eventually a forest.

Managing self-seeded meadow trees

For the time being, we have decided to leave this single self-seeded tree and will observe how it grows in the meadow. But, going forward – and in order to stop the Haven from turning into scrubland – it will be necessary to remove other self-seeded saplings.

Discovering unexpected beauty in decay

Denman+Gould’s choice of sustainably sourced oak as the material for the nesting pod sculptures was very deliberate. As was the decision not to varnish them (read more about this in Denman+Gould’s blog post). The now-silvered oak sculptures have parallels to the dead wood found in a naturally evolving landscape.

Fiona Stafford in her book The Long, Long Life of Trees beautifully describes the importance of oak trees as habitat providers:

‘Since the oak is a favourite habitat of more insects, lichens, butterflies, beetles and fungi than any other kind of tree, it is the ideal home for birds, squirrels, dormice, bats and snakes. And that is before you begin to explore the life nurtured in the thick layers of dead leaves or the rotting heartwood of fallen branches. The oak carries an entire world with itself, but its sinewy, Atlas-like limbs show no sign of strain. This is the King of Trees, the head, heart and habitat of an entire civilisation.’

oak sculptures become important habitat

Eleanor writes in her blog about using some decaying heartwood in one of the sculptures to create a nesting site, echoing the way in nature a hollow in an oak tree would be used by woodpeckers, little owls and barn owls to build their nests:

‘When we [Russell Denman and Eleanor Goulding] initially carved one of the nesting pods, we discovered an area of rot inside the oak. Instead of cutting it away, we chose to embrace this natural feature and place the nest entrance within it. The soft, decayed wood provides an excellent habitat for insects, supporting biodiversity within the sculpture itself. Over time, this has become one of our favourite aspects of the work. The tannins in this area remain rich, meaning the wood here has a deeper, more striking colour, contrasting beautifully with the surrounding silvered oak.’

Wood and concrete

The silvering oak now tones in with the iconic brutalist architecture of the Southbank, which also owes much of its construction to wood. Architectural and urban historian Dr Otto Saumarez Smith explains:

‘The concrete was poured into moulds of Baltic pine, reproducing the rough grain of the wood, a technically demanding process: the building has been described as a wooden building, but cast in concrete.’

Read Saumarez Smith’s full article on the architecture of the Southbank Centre.

An evolving, central London habitat

We are looking forward to seeing what wildlife will visit Haven this summer as its habitats continue to develop and evolve. If you visit Haven this year please do keep us posted on what you observe via our social media @maevepolkinhorn @denmangould @southbankcentre

Weathered oak, the humble teasel and change over time: embracing natural processes in the garden