Chris lectures at the Philadelphia Flower Show, the GardenCOMM national conference, and is an instructor at Longwood Gardens. In 2025, Chris presented at the West Virginia Lanscaping and Nursery Association Symposium and at the International Master Gardener Conference, and has garden club presentations scheduled in Maryland, New Jersey. and the District of Columbia. Chris welcomes inquiries from garden clubs, plant societies, master gardeners, public gardens, museums and historic sites, and other garden organizations.
While teaching at Longwood Gardens and historic Laurel Hill Cemetery, Chris has led garden tours of meadows, woodland gardens, formal gardens, and conservatories. There's no substitute for engaging with living plants, and when it's practical, Chris loves to include a walking tour in his classes. It's useful not only for meeting individual species and cultivars (and savoring their colors and scent), it also helps the class understand the cultural needs of a plant if they want to add it to their own garden.
Chris is an accidental florist! While teaching The Language of Flowers at a historic garden, he realized that Tussie-Mussies (Victorial posies) are a wonderful educational tool. These small bouquets provide an intimate flower arranging experience for all ages and experience levels. Chris currently teaches container design, bulb lasagna, and floating arrangements at Longwood Gardens. His philosophy is to combine mechanics which are accessible to everyone with plant palettes and design themes which are sophisticated enough to resonate with experienced arrangers and gardeners.
In the long history of garden design, there have been ongoing tensions: 1) between formal and naturalistic spaces, 2) between control and colllaboration when it comes to the natural world, 3) between native and introduced plants and building materials, and 4) between restraint/simplicity and exuberance/abundance when it comes to color, planting density, garden ornament, garden buildings, and other amenities.
For me, the sweet spot for all of these variables is the Arts and Crafts Movement of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Please see Wild and Romantic Values for more of my thoughts on what makes a garden compelling and some great romantic garden articles I've linked.
In the history of garden writing, color has received countless discussions, so our initial focus is on fragrance and aroma - flowers and foliage! We could use a perfumer's approach, but most of us already have some wine vocabulary and sampling experience, so wine tasting is a better model for appreciating, evaluating, and discussing plants.
Pollinators and people both make a "beeline" towards colorful flowers, and later in the year birds and animals (including us) find ripening fruit just as compelling. Flowers, foliage, and fruit are more than just one "color" - thanks to genetics, atmospheric conditions, and the plant's life cycle, attentive onlookers can savor a progression of beautiful colors, in some cases even while the bloom or leaf is dying, or being dried for preservation.
Just as we should appreciate that a drop of honey represents the life's work of a bee, we should keep in mind that each cultivar is the product of years (or decades) of careful work by a plant breeder. Every plant has a story, and every good cultivar should also have a long future. A great garden is a combination of heirlooms, contemporary classics, and the best new releases. It also offers fragrance and color for 10-12 months a year depending on climate zone.
As someone who chaired the Young Friends Board for an internationally respected art museum, and later worked professionally in fundraising and event production for a maritime museum, I'm a proud history/museum nerd, who actually reads the small notes next to the art or artifact! At the same time, aside from major exhibitions, even the best art and history museums are relatively static. After 2-3 hours, I've usually seen it all, but I could spend every day in a historic rural cemetery, a public garden, or a city known as a horticultural hub. It can be subtle, but gardens change every single day - growth, death, color changes, light changes, responses to weather, mean that every visit is a new experience. Garden tourism is fun and it's great for economic development.
An important part of experiencing and loving flowers is knowing their names, stories, and meanings. Most of us are familiar with Shakespeare's line in Romeo and Juliet, that "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." This is true and flowers are for everyone, even those with zero interest in horticulture.
Botanical Latin is hard to love, but it helps make sure you get the plant you want, and it often gives clues to size, color, fragrance, texture, traditional uses, and place of origin. It's also an important asset when reading garden writing, since writing can range from all common to all Latin nomenclature. I truly hated Latin when I was in school (barely passed it all three years), but now I'm working to learn late 19th and early 20th century botanic names (which have often changed due to new research and DNA testing), so I can read the classics of garden writing without frequently Googling antiquated terms.
Common names are useful as a translation for people who are not plant people, but can also offer insights about a plant's traditional uses, flavor, scent, physical qualities, bloom time, and origin. For some plants the common name is a portion of their botanical name (Boring!!!), and others can have dozens of common names, based on their geographic reach and cultural importance.
The story of a plant includes:
1) its official Western history (geographic origin, who "discovered" it, which plant breeder created the cultivar);
2) its indigenous history (the plant's uses and meanings for the people who have been using/cultivating it for thousands of years);
3) its unofficial history - your history ("this is my Aunt Maryellen's rose", "my neighbor Bob gave me cuttings", "I found this heirloom pumpkin through Seed Savers", "we were married under that oak", etc.); and
4) its "Victorian Language of Flowers" meaning (the red rose for love, and bay laurel for success or triumph are probably the best known, but there are several hundred plants in the Anglo-American tradition that have one or more meanings attached - whether it's a long or short list, it's safe to assume that every culture and civilization has its own "language of flowers" and they are all equally valid as a form of human expression).
As Shakespeare made clear, you don't need to know any of this background to love flowers. At the same time, I would encourage everyone to take a deeper interest in their favorite flower or favorite genus (e.g. daffodils, lilac, or dahlias). Few of us want to know everything about the vast subjects of wine, beer, or spirits, but I think most of us enjoy knowing the history of our favorite winery, brewery or distillery. Your commitment to being a plant nerd is a personal decision, but at least dip your toe in the water!