Itty bitty bonsai committee
The joys of teeny tiny trees, called mame.
If the Daoists are right about bonsai’s metaphysical mojo—that the art of miniature trees condenses and excites a scene’s natural energy, its qi, into a potent portable dose of the wild—then it may be the case that the more miniaturized the tree, the more powerful the energetic high. Let’s talk about mame bonsai.
In bonsai shows, trees are often divided into groups based on height. Mame, pronounced mah-may, like edamame (”mame” means “bean”), are bonsai generally between two and four inches tall. I say “generally” because every organization has its own size cutoffs, and some categories overlap, so it’s more of a vibe than a universal standard. There are two smaller categories, called keishi (or keshitsubo) and shito, but these trees miniscule are the size of board game pieces, and it’s difficult to keep them in such proportions for long. From my understanding, mame are the smallest bonsai that you can keep as they are, in teeny tiny pots, for a while. The highest concentration of the bonsai drug.
Mame receive a fraction of the attention lavished on larger, grander bonsai displays, but some bonsai people consider them the most difficult trees to maintain. The line between over- and under-watered is perilously thin in such small pots, and there’s little margin for error when assessing the tree’s health and responding accordingly. Aesthetically, every cubic millimeter of the tree has to earn its place in the design while accounting for future growth. “The crown shape, and the styling you arrive at are ephemeral,” writes bonsai artist Eric Schrader. “Unlike larger trees where you can establish and then maintain a style, mame I believe are best adapted, restyled, retwisted, and restyled often—for fun and out of necessity.”
I’ve heard about aging bonsai artists who sold their heavier trees in their later years, so they could focus on easier-to-handle mame bonsai. They said they looked forward to the challenge. For those of us who practice bonsai in small spaces, mame can live in the compact environment of a windowsill. As with other bonsai, they’re usually grown large, then reduced into small pots, though with mame, even the larger grow pots are petite. I’ve been working on cuttings to convert into mame bonsai. In the meantime, I purchased a couple species that have long been on my list.
I bought this Triphasia trifolia on a Facebook auction from a seller in Texas who grows tiny tropicals. It belongs to the citrus family and goes by the name limeberry, after the pulpy fruits it grows. I’m into it for the fleur-de-lis compound foliage and cute triangular flowers.
There’s so much going on in this tiny design. A true pocket sized tree. The branches have already started forming foliage pads and the exposed roots will grow more dramatic with time. My only plan for this tree is to learn how to keep it alive. I need to study it for a while. Understand how its branches divide, why it’s a convincing miniature.
My other new acquisition is also a citrus relative: Zanthoxylum beecheyanum. The zanthoxylum genus includes tingly spices used in Asian cuisines such as Sichuan, sansho, and timur peppercorns. Z. beecheyanum has frond-like compound leaves that work well with the optical illusions of miniature bonsai. They even smell like Sichuan peppercorn if you rub them! From my research, the species is a common entry level bonsai in Europe, where it’s usually called Chinese Pepper Tree or, inaccurately, Z. piperitum. I don’t see it as much in the U.S., so I was happy to find this young starter. It’s a semi-tropical that should do well with my olives and tea plant.
If the triphasia is my study model, this tree will be my first practice mame. I have a good feeling about it. The tree took less than a week to recover from shipping and is already pushing new foliage, even as nightly temperatures drop into the 50s. If it looks ready for work in the springtime I’ll begin work on the roots and transfer it to bonsai soil. Or I may let the two dominant branches grow out to strengthen the tree, before I remove them to twist the weak remaining one into a new canopy.
Here too, the prime directive is to keep the tree healthy. Do no harm. For all its ephemeral smallness, mame takes years of time and planning to pull off. “Big things have small beginnings,” T. E. Lawrence wrote. The converse is also true.
Tree reading
Global warming is accelerating the growth and resilience of tree diseases, as drought leaves even healthy stands susceptible to infection. [CBC]
American oak tree conservation finds a new, well-financed ally: bourbon makers, who are running out of wood for their casks. [Modern Farmer]