Four Things I Learned from the Unapologetic Container Gardens of Italy

I have come to revere the artful and effortless way that Italians garden in containers. Even when I was just a student wandering around Italy, I noticed the flowers and foliage that seemed to sprout from every crevice. When I go there now with a more finely attuned horticultural radar, I’m moved and inspired by the abundance of plants thriving in pots!

From my observations, Italians approach container gardening with a different attitude. I don’t have hard data on the container gardening habits of Italians vs. Americans, just anecdotal evidence as a person who notices plants and has spent a lot of time in both places. 

I’ve attempted to boil this attitude down to four lessons of “Italian” container gardening, though I’m sure one might find it across other countries and cultures that share certain characteristics. By applying these lessons, I believe Americans could gain greater appreciation for our container gardens and enjoy greener and more beautiful private and public spaces.

Lesson 1: Be cool with containers

In the U.S., we are a bit apologetic about container gardening. After all, a single-family home with a spacious yard is a standard component of the American dream. If we only have a paved stoop or compact balcony on which to garden, it means we have not attained that dream and should be working towards it.

Obviously this is classist garbage, and I’ve pontificated on the virtues of container gardening previously. There should be no shame in contentedly living in a small space and not owning property. In fact, down with private property! But I digress…

Because both their major cities and rural towns are denser, in terms of population and the built environment, Italians are accustomed to making the most of small spaces. It’s not unusual for Italians to live in apartments and other multi-family arrangements their whole lives, without yards and soil. There is nothing inferior about balcony and terrace gardens as they are the norm.

In fact, Italians perfected the manufacturing of perhaps the world’s most popular type of planter: terra cotta, which means “baked earth” in Italian. This video from the Uffizi shows the artistry and pride that goes into crafting these historic containers (at least the ones they use at the Boboli Gardens!).

Also, I have seen some crazy specimens growing in pots in Italy that make you question everything you thought you knew about container gardening. Clearly the proprietors of these plants don’t consider containers to be a limitation, and nor should you!

Lesson 2: Embrace simplicity

After our most recent trip to Puglia, I came home realizing I was overthinking my garden. I tend to stress out over creating interesting planter compositions, choosing unique varieties, and challenging myself to try new techniques.

A spray of hot pink calibrachoa gracing a niche in a stone wall. A collection of multi-colored succulents clustered around a windowsill. A single potted yucca plant in an alley. Fragrant basil and tiny peppers next to my outdoor table at lunch.

All of these examples were incredibly impactful and yet fell into a category of plants I’ve unfairly designated as too easy or too basic. I realize this is very silly. 

We’re lucky in both Italy and California to live in Mediterranean climates where almost anything will grow, including low-maintenance plants that will tolerate drought, poor soil, heat, and confined roots. If a plant will add beauty, color, and joy to your garden with relatively little effort, why fight it? Not everything has to be hard!

Lesson 3: Have fun!

Not only does it not have to be hard, it can even be fun! 

Clearly, we all agree that gardening is fun; that’s why we’re here. But while exploring various parts of Italy, I’ve come across examples of container gardens displaying a level of exuberance and lightheartedness that I rarely see in the U.S.

Last summer I literally laughed out loud during a nocturnal stroll in the historic center of Carovigno when I rounded a corner onto this trough full of sunflowers. It was so delightful and unexpected! 

And this oft-photographed corner of Cisternino, above, is popular for a reason. The sheer quantity of flowers is jaw-dropping. Yet, they are composed of common and easygoing plants including petunias, bougainvillea, and geraniums, all in hues of vivid pink! The gardener clearly had fun creating this display and was also thinking about the joy it would bring to beholders. This brings me to lesson number four.

Lesson 4: Think of others

When I look up at apartment buildings with balconies around the Bay Area, I’ll see perhaps two or three units with horticultural activity, others with a chair or two, and some being used as surplus storage for bicycles or coolers. 

I’m not judging anyone; American culture is very individualistic, and what you do with your own property is your business. Whether or not to green up your outdoor space is a personal choice and not everyone has the time, resources, or inclination for it.

The line between public and private gets blurrier in Italian cities and towns. In historic centers with roads, buildings, and walls from various centuries jumbled together, front doors open directly onto well-trod streets and terraces overlook bustling piazzas. Because of these close quarters, folks seem to take greater pride in maintaining their outdoor semi-public spaces. A simple arrangement of pots for neighbors and passersby to enjoy goes a long way.

Even in modern apartment buildings in Milan, you rarely see an empty balcony on the façade. The extreme example of course is the famous “Bosco Verticale” or vertical forest towers designed by architect Stefano Boeri, which are truly stunning to behold. But many more modest structures boast multiple balcony jungles, which not only add beauty but purify the city air by absorbing CO2. 

Bringing it all home

I returned from Puglia last summer inspired to bring the simplicity and exuberance of Italian container gardens to my own Californian balcony. And although my balcony faces the apartment building behind ours rather than the street, I think my neighbors would rather see plants than empty space or dusty camping equipment.

I’m not saying container gardening isn’t enormously popular in the U.S. (it is!) or that we are not good at it. I only argue that Americans could benefit from a more positive, light-hearted, and generous attitude towards container gardening, which I see frequently throughout Italy. Any place with a strong communal culture where paved outdoor spaces outnumber yards likely shares the same approach.

Of course, we cannot replicate these conditions in the U.S., but we can control how we treat the space that is available to us, even if it’s just a windowsill or a stoop. The ease and simplicity of Italian container gardening may encourage the inexperienced or dubious that they, too, could handle the maintenance of a few planters. Furthermore, that communal spirit, that awareness that plants benefit everyone in many ways, may persuade them that it’s worth a try.