Native-plant landscaping

• Map of the Waimanalo nursery (large graphic, 168k)

By Mike Leidemann
Advertiser Staff Writer

Landscape architect Dennis Kim in the garden of the "Mele" model home of the Kalamakuu development in Kalama Valley, with some of the native Hawaiian plants he used for landscaping: He's holding a Black Coral ilima; kului (broad leaf shrub to the right of the ilima); ahuawa (thin long leaves once used to strain an 'awa concoction before drinking; alahe'e (tree in background center), which blooms with small white flowers. Bruce Asato • The Honolulu Advertiser

Kim, a landscape architect who owns a Waimanalo nursery, is among the leaders in a still-growing movement to restore native Hawaiian plants to their rightfully prominent place in the local landscape.

"We're not there yet, but we've made amazing progress," Kim says.

Kim's ultimate goal is to design a large landscape using nothing but native plants and have them all easily recognized by the public. Until then, however, his plan is to marry as many native plants with popular and compatible introduced species.

At the new Schuler Homes Kalamaku'u project in Hawai'i Kai, for instance, Kim has created a landscape plan that uses about 70 percent endemic plants. Among them are the native gardenia, nanu; several species of native hibiscus; 'ilima; alahe'e; and 'akia. He complements those with some introduced plants that have found widespread popularity in local gardens, including pinwheel gardenias, yellow tecoma trees and plumbago.

The response has been enthusiastic, says Cis Crocker George, sales manager for the project.

"Oh my gosh, yes," she says. "All the people coming to see the model home wander out into the yard and then start asking questions about the plants. They all want to know what's growing there."

Kim says the reputation of native Hawaiian plants has undergone a terrific turnaround in just the past 3à years. Before that, state law forbade the cultivation of endangered species without a special license, and most growers and landscapers shied away from natives, thinking them both hard to grow and lacking in aesthetic appeal.

"It's a crime and an insult that for so long we've offered visitors the same kinds of plants they could find in any other subtropical resort area," he says.

With the repeal of the state law, however, a few private growers like Kim started to change the picture. Thousands of native plants, covering several hundred species, are being grown in local nurseries; Hawai'i landscape developers increasingly call for their use in big commercial projects; and homeowners are going bananas trying to get them into their own back yards. The native plants often are the first to sell out at big local garden shows such as those sponsored by the Lyon Arboretum or Foster Garden.

"Right now, the demand still outstrips our ability to supply them," Kim says. "In another five years, we'll probably be able to do whole landscapes with nothing but natives."

Until then, Kim takes the reasonable approach of interplanting native Hawaiians with heritage plants, even a few exotics, to produce an interesting, affordable design in new landscapes like the one in Kalama Valley.

"I'll put the native Hawaiian plants up against all the others in any context you can think of," he says. "In form, color, leaf, fruit, fragrance, you name it. They all compare favorably to the introduced species. It's just a matter of convincing people that they work in a garden."

Leland Miyano, another well-known Hawai'i landscape designer, agrees. He often mixes the natives with introduced ground covers in his own one-acre garden in Kahalu'u. While the ground covers dominate an area at first, the slower-growing natives usually take over eventually, he says.

"It doesn't bother me that they're mixed," Miyano says. "I like to experiment to see what things grow well with each other."

Miyano and Kim say native plants have an undeserved reputation of being tough to grow in local gardens.

"People who say they are hard to grow usually haven't really tried them," Miyano says.

Kim has tried — and succeeded.

He has more than 30,000 plants growing on his one-acre nursery in Waimanalo. He's propagated more than 300 species in the past few years and has identified about 100 that do very well in his area. "I think I'll probably find another 200 species that grow well before I'm done," he says.

The popularity of native Hawaiian plants has increased in several stages, he says. He credits writers like Greg Koob, Keith Robinson and Advertiser columnist Heidi Bornhorst with being among the first to tout the value of the native plantings.

Then, he says, came the handful of daring growers who jumped into the battle when state restrictions were lifted a few years back.

"Most commercial growers still don't want anything to do with native plants," he says. "They're slow growers, and the nurserymen need a high turnover of their plants to make money. They need to turn over their whole stock three or four times a year, and you just can't do that with native plants."

While the federal government has done a good job of preserving native species in Hawai'i, the state government lags far behind, he says.

"Really, it's the private sector that's leading the way," he says.

The new wave of people helping to educate the public are the landscape architects who are pushing for more native plantings in their designs.

"They are the ones taking a risk, but they're doing it based on the good data we're giving them about what plants do well," he said.

For now, that means a handful of native plants like the white hibiscus, 'akia, pohinahina, naupaka and 'ilima are finding widespread acceptance from designers and their customers. "These are the bread-and-butter plants for now," he said.

Hundreds more are waiting to be discovered.

Kim walks a visitor through his nursery and points enthusiastically to all kinds of subtle and flashy beauty. He points out an alahe'e tree with fragrant white flowers and shiny leaves. He shows off dozens of little-known taros, including ones with striped stems, variegated leaves and deep purple and black colors. There's even one that smells like a ripe banana.

"All of them have their place in the landscape," Kim says.