To slake a plant’s thirst, a good, galvanized watering can from the hardware store will do the job, no doubt about that. Nothing could be more perfectly engineered for the task than this sturdy workhorse with its two handles—one for comfortable carrying, one for easy pouring—its plump downspout and round rose whose perforations deliver a shower as gentle as raindrops from heaven.
And yet, it has to be said, as ergonomically satisfying as the basic watering can may be, no one could call it a thing of beauty.
That, my friends, is about to change.
For the past few weeks what might be called the great watering can makeover has been under way in the hands of some 20 renowned artists with local studios. This at the behest of members of the Sag Harbor Tree Fund committee, who will host a silent auction of the painted, decoupaged and embellished watering cans on August 1 from 4 to 6 p.m. at Cormaria in Sag Harbor.
Proceeds from the auction and the $20 admission, which entitles guests to high tea and hors d’oeuvres, will fund the planting and care of trees in the village.
Alexandra Eames credits fellow committee member Neal Hartman with convincing the others of the unrealized aesthetic potential of the humble watering can.
“He came up with the idea,” she said in a phone interview. “He made the arrangements with Cormaria, which overlooks the bay. It’s all about the water.”
Gahan Wilson, whose playful but never pointless cartoons are familiar to readers of the New Yorker, among other periodicals, was certainly thinking about water, and was probably thirsty, when he came up with his grateful bullfrog and blissful flowers, mouths agape to catch every drop coming their way.
“His really says it all about the water,” laughed Ms. Eames.
If Mr. Wilson’s watering can is easily identified as his creation, so, too, are most of the others. April Gornik has embellished hers with one of her lovely allees leading to a mysterious, light-flooded beyond, while her husband, Eric Fischl, has given the committee a typically ambiguous scene involving two stripped-down young females bathed in a beachy pink light.
Jack Lenor Larsen, the internationally known textile designer, has washed the body of his watering can with bands of pale, soft-edged color, like some exquisite fabric of subtly blended hues, while the spout and handles are a no-nonsense midnight blue.
Among the other participating artists are David Salle, Scott Sandell, Kathryn Szoka, Bob Dash, Paul Davis, Michael Grim and Mark Mulholland. They and the others have answered the call from the Sag Harbor Tree Fund, which has planted and cared for more than 500 trees since its founding in 1992.
Back then, “there was concern,” said Ms. Eames “that all the street trees were pretty much the same species, and quite old.”
As people learned years ago when Dutch elm disease struck, sticking to one species is risky. Nor do trees live forever, even in the best of circumstances.
As an informative brochure explains, the group that banded together in 1992 felt that Sag Harbor had benefited from a relative lack of economic growth and development in the century following the demise of the whaling industry, leaving “an unparalleled legacy of 18th- and 19th-century architecture and streetscape.” They knew that, without trees, the beauty of their leafy streets would be lost and they made it their mission to prevent that from happening.
“When it starts to get dry, right around this time, we pay for a tank and a pump,” she said, “and we have someone who goes around and waters the trees once a week or depending on conditions.”
That is the part of their Tree Plan—drawn up in 1993 following a survey of existing trees in the village—that the creative watering can campaign has put in the spotlight this summer. Planting, which usually takes place in the fall, is another. Supporters of the group’s efforts can help with that task by sponsoring a commemorative tree with a plaque ($1,000) or minus the plaque ($700).
In addition to planting and watering trees of many varieties, “we have done some other projects as well,” said Ms. Eames. The group is responsible for creating Railroad Path on Long Island Avenue as well as Sage Park at the intersection of Jermain Avenue and Suffolk Street.
Normally, after three years the new trees no longer need the level of care that gets them started. But all the trees are carefully watched for any signs of trouble, according to Ms. Eames.
“I tell you,” she said, “we worry about them. When everyone else wants it to be sunny, we’re afraid it won’t rain.”
Even if it rains on August 1, the hosts of the silent auction and high tea will likely cheer for the trees and spare themselves any undue concern that their guests might get wet.
“We’re lucky that Cormaria has a covered porch,” said Ms. Eames.