Planning Flowers for a Corporate Dinner in Nashville

A corporate dinner can be beautifully planned and still feel unmistakably corporate.

The room is polished. The linens are pressed. The schedule runs exactly on time. And yet, without a few thoughtful details, the evening can feel more like an obligation than an occasion.

Flowers are one of the simplest ways to change that. They bring warmth to a hotel ballroom, soften a conference setting and make guests feel that someone considered their experience—not simply the logistics.

Begin With the Linens

For me, the most useful visual information is not the scale of the ballroom. Ballrooms are ballrooms. What matters much more is what will be repeated across every table: the linens.

If the linens have already been selected, I ask the planner to share those choices with me. From there, I can propose a floral palette that complements them and gives the room a cohesive point of view.

Complementing does not necessarily mean matching. Flowers can quietly echo a linen color, soften it or introduce just enough contrast to keep the tables from feeling overly coordinated.

Sometimes the process works in reverse. A planner may already have a requested floral palette—in which case, I can choose a seasonal flower recipe that works within it. The exact varieties may change with availability, but the overall color story remains intact.

Either approach gives me what I need: a clear visual starting point.

Decide Where the Flowers Will Work Hardest

Not every surface needs an arrangement.

For most corporate dinners, I would rather identify the places where flowers can have real impact: the welcome area, dining tables, stage, bar or another gathering point where guests naturally pause.

A beautiful entrance arrangement establishes the tone immediately. Flowers near a podium or stage soften photographs. A series of centerpieces carries the chosen palette across the room.

Thoughtful placement often creates more atmosphere than simply adding flowers everywhere.

Repetition Matters More Than Size

Corporate flowers do not need to be enormous to feel luxurious.

In a ballroom or conference setting, repetition is powerful. One arrangement may be lovely; thirty arrangements working together transform the room. The repeated color, shape and movement create a visual thread that makes the entire event feel considered.

For dining tables, flowers should sit low enough for guests to see one another—or rise clearly above the natural line of sight. Anything in between becomes an obstacle. The goal is to support conversation, not compete with it.

Let the Flowers Feel Connected to Nashville

Corporate events are often a visitor’s introduction to the city. Flowers offer a subtle way to give the evening a sense of place without resorting to an obvious Nashville theme.

Seasonal branches, garden roses, flowering vines, herbs and textural foliage can feel warm, gracious and connected to the landscape while remaining polished enough for a professional gathering.

I am less interested in making an arrangement announce “Nashville” than in creating the kind of welcome for which Nashville is known.

Share the Practical Details Early

The most helpful starting information is straightforward:

• Venue and event date

• Guest count and table quantities

• Linen choices—or the requested floral palette

• Table sizes

• Stage, registration and cocktail-hour needs

• Event schedule

• Delivery, setup and removal requirements

From there, I can create a floral palette and recipe that work together across the event.

Bloom & Bounty provides floral design for corporate dinners, conferences and gatherings throughout Nashville. If you are planning from out of town, you do not need to arrive with a fully developed floral vision. Your linen selections—or simply a preferred floral palette—are enough to begin.

What Makes a Flower Feel Old World?

“Old World” has become one of those phrases that is in danger of meaning everything and nothing at all.

It’s applied to houses built last year, restaurants with dim lighting, and floral arrangements containing anything vaguely brown or trailing. Add a stone urn and a piece of rumpled linen, and apparently we’ve arrived in eighteenth-century Europe.

I use the phrase myself. Bloom & Bounty’s flowers are decidedly old world in spirit. But what exactly do I mean by that?

Not that every arrangement should resemble a Dutch still-life painting, though I certainly wouldn’t object. What I’m after is less a recognizable style than a way of seeing. It begins with the flower itself. Many flowers today have been bred to travel well. They grow on long, straight stems, bloom on schedule, and survive refrigeration and shipping remarkably well. I’m grateful for that—especially in the middle of winter.

But usefulness always asks something in return.

Sometimes it’s fragrance. Sometimes it’s delicacy. Sometimes it’s the gentle curve of a stem that grew toward the sun instead of toward the roof of a greenhouse. An old-world flower still looks alive. Its stem may bend. One bloom may face a different direction than the others. It may have opened a little too far or carry the faint evidence of having lived through real weather.

It has not entirely surrendered its nature for our convenience.

Perhaps that’s why I’ve never been especially interested in perfection. The flowers I love most usually contain a small surprise: a tulip bowing under its own weight, a vine wandering beyond the arrangement, a rose opening well past the stage most florists would consider ideal.

Those are the flowers that remind us they were once growing in a garden.

Part of the pleasure of flowers is waiting for them. Lilacs feel miraculous because they disappear almost as quickly as they arrive. Sweet peas are treasured because their season is heartbreakingly short. The first narcissus of spring carries a different joy than one we could buy every week of the year.

When every flower is available all the time, we lose something more valuable than variety. We lose anticipation. Perhaps that’s what I really mean when I say “Old World.” Not nostalgia. Not antique vessels or European gardens (though yes to both, please!).

Simply flowers that still feel connected to the natural world—to time, to season, and to the quiet imperfections that make living things beautiful.

A little evidence that nature has not yet been made to behave.

Musings on After Nature

A group of garden writers I’m involved with reposted a report published in The Guardian two days ago titled “Human Connection to Nature Has Declined 60% in 200 Years, Study Finds.” Here is the link to read the whole thing for yourself.

It’s no surprise to anyone paying attention to modern life that we are living in the “after nature” period, nor that our loss of connection to what I call the really-real has had a profound, disembodying impact on humanity. The author suggests the typical cures— more government funding for green spaces & public education about the mental health ties to nature, but even he admits the scale would have to be astronomical to make an impact…like, an increase in green spaces by a factor of a 1000, not by 10. These are not bad things, but akin to spitting into the ocean in my view, with not an even a nanoscopic chance of turning the tide.

What’s really going on here? Well, a lot of things, but it seems to me that it’s much deeper than public policy or any individual’s personal orientation toward the natural world (ie “I’m just not outdoorsy”). It seems to me that human beings ourselves are changing- that this has much more to do with internal infrastructure than external policy. It has me thinking about Iain McGilchrist’s take on how the two brain hemispheres impact our perception of the world. The more I read of his brilliant book The Master & His Emissary (I’m admittedly not close to finishing as it’s a slow, deep, meaningful read that I can only take in chunks…likely because my own brain has degraded in much the way he describes), the more I understand that the left brain now controls our perception of reality, and the left brain has zero use for things like art, nature, metaphor, or transcendence. That’s all right brain territory. Take this except from the book:

”What ultimately unites the three realms of escape from the left hemisphere’s world which it has attacked in our time – the body, the spirit and art – is that they are all vehicles of love. Perhaps the commonest experience of a clearly transcendent power in most people’s lives is the power of eros, but they may also experience love through art or through spirituality. Ultimately, these elements are aspects of the same phenomenon: for love is the attractive power of the Other, which the right hemisphere experiences, but which the left hemisphere does not understand and sees as an impediment to its authority.

Through these assaults of the left hemisphere on the body, spirituality and art, essentially mocking, discounting or dismantling what it does not understand and cannot use, we are at risk of becoming trapped in the I–it world, with all the exits through which we might rediscover the I–thou world being progressively blocked off.”

I agree with him, but I would add that nature is included among these fundamentally human phenomena. For the overwhelming majority of history until just very recently, human beings have been at the mercy of nature- from the most awe-inspiring scale (I think of JMW Turner’s fear-inducing land & waterscapes) to the tiniest (will these seeds I’m about to sow germinate & yield needed food for my family?). This is the “I-thou” that McGilchrist references, where you stand under a thing with a power that you can’t control. It is “other” than you, a being in its own right, and in my experience the “otherness” of it usually has things to teach me. There is an enigmatic mystery contained within the “other”…whether in eros, or faith, or nature, or art, or music. However, in the “I-it” world, the other is simply a means to an end, which is certainly how the modern world (tracking with the last 200 years of the article’s study) has approached nature. I think of this except from Adam Kirsch’s little book The Revolt Against Humanity:

“Because we shape everything, from the upper atmosphere to the deep seas, there is no more nature that stands apart from human beings.”

That’s the loss of the “I-Thou” of McGilchrist. What remains of nature is now fully enmeshed in the “I-it”, and the “it” survives to serve us.

And:

“The survival of the fittest, the basic mechanism of natural selection, now means the survival of what is most useful to human beings”

I think about how my journey into gardening as a profession has had such a mysterious effect on my life, connecting to me to truths about myself and about life that I am quite sure I could not have discovered any other way. Some of this is related to the slow, patient plodding that the garden requires, and the lack of ultimate control that I have to recognize year after year. Some of it is related to the conversation that the garden and I have, where I do my bit and she responds with hers. What I know for certain is that this is right brain territory, and that the mystery unfolds over time in a way that I perceive but do not control.

At the same time, I’m not an anti-humanist, looking to rescue nature from the clutches of evil man by hoping for the extinction of our species so that nature can heal. I’m a Christian humanist, looking to restore man to sanity, which I believe means recognizing that there is a revolt against humanity underway- a revolt against the really-real things- a flattening, mechanical, reductionist mode of thinking in our culture that is stripping of us so much good. It’s also apparent to me that the ecological, spiritual & meaning crises of modern life are intimately tied to the loss of a reverence for humanity— a reverence for the whole person. The “I-it” mindframe splinters us into people who approach the world (or another person) as a thing to be manipulated, measured, categorized and controlled, whereas a whole-person approach seeks a relationship with the world that is present, reciprocal, and alive. If McGilchrist is right and we are swimming in largely left-brained cultural waters, it any surprise, then, that after 200 years we find our only meaningful relationship to nature is one of domination and utility?

I honestly don’t know how to change course on a large scale. If we are to recover what has been lost, it seems we must begin not with grand-scale policies alone, but with the quiet, stubborn work of reorienting our own gaze toward the “I–Thou.” This is an act of resistance as much as reverence — choosing to stand before the world, not as its master, but as its kin.

The Art of Floral Arranging, Garden-Style

Sustainable Mechanics

“Floral foam is to contemporary floristry what asbestos is to home building— dated and dangerous”

Once upon a time, the Martha Stewart ‘roundy-moundy’ arrangement was all the rage. The very deliberate, hyper-vigilant style was thanks, in large part, to floral foam (aka Oasis). Every possible angle was achievable, and the design was under perfect command from start to finish. It was also stiff, fussy & formal.

Today, we find a certain romance in looser lines. There’s a femininity to a design that reaches, or spills, or curves  There’s a movement and naturalness apparent in the best of today’s arrangements that recalls the garden itself. For this reason, many call it “garden-style” arranging. For me, it’s simply an aesthetic of seasonality.

Useful Tools:

• Chicken wire

• Pin frogs (metal or glass)

• Floral putty

• Natural armature (made from bendable sticks & twigs)

• Foral wire

• Snips

• Waterproof floral tape

• Turntable

Flower Shapes & Texture

Generally speaking, we want to use a mix of flower shapes. This will lend the feeling of texture & depth to an arrangement. There are lots of ways to quantify shape, but my favorite categories are:

-focal (ex: lisianthus, rose, dahlia, sunflower, ranunculus, anemone, or specialty such as      sweetpea when positioned right)

-airy (ex: laceflower, nigella, orlaya, buplueurm, grasses)

-spike (ex: stock, snaps, larkspur, delphinium)

-supporting (ex: statice, feverfew, calendula, amaranthus)

-foliage (including vines & branches)

Movement & Gesture

Because I approach design as a gardener first, I am always looking for a “dancer”- maybe a branch that can reach diagonally out of the vase and create negative space in its wake- or a flower that has curved around its neighbor in the garden as it reached for the sun and is sure to create beautiful movement in the vase.

We always want to find flowers or foliage to engage the eye and gesture to the viewer. Garden flowers do this best of all- as they haven’t been genetically modified to play nice in the greenhouse. They aren’t ‘good little soldiers’- straight & strong.  Garden flowers still evoke the feeling of life- and with it a certain unruliness.  This translates beautifully in the vase.

Cohesion

While gesture is a ‘dancer’ having her turn in the spotlight, cohesion makes sure all the dancers (ie flowers) are on the same stage. Without cohesion we have visual cacophony.  One of the most direct ways to achieve cohesion is through the thoughtful use of color. The correct use of color ensures all the flowers will talk with one another. A helpful tool? The color wheel!

Complementary colors creates harmony. In additional to arranging with complementary colors, we can also arrange according to:

Analogous colors- those on either side of a chosen color on the color wheel (basically any quarter segment of the wheel).

Monochromatic colors- choosing one special focal flower, and finding all supporting ingredients in the same hue.

Form & Proportion

• Vase to flowers: this is an easy proportion to visualize. The rule of thumb is to aim for a flower height that is two-thirds higher than your vessel. This loosely follows the proportions of the Golden Ratio- da Vinci’s 16th century theory on divine proportion, expressed mathematically as 1:1.618.

• Number: Aim to work in odd numbers. Nature rarely presents herself in a matching set.  Working with 3, 5 or 7 of a certain flower mimics the spontaneity found in nature.

• Line: create movement for the viewer’s eye through arranging flowers in a slightly (or severely) draping line. This is best used with a compote vessel.

• Shape:

• Asymmetry: if your arrangement reaches high on the left, try letting it trail on the right. This will create drama, movement and balance.

• Negative Space: alternatively, you can create a place for the eye to rest in the center of an arrangement using negative space. To do this, think of an upside-down scalene triangle (3 unequal sides)- with the longest side across the top of the arrangement. The form will have two peaks of slightly unequal height on either side of the arrangement- usually achieved with a focal flower- with a drop in center and the low placement of a third focal here. This area between the peak is called negative space.

My pantry staple for a longer vase life

A “woody” stem, such as lilac, can benefit from this trick to extend vase life.

Welcome to the first in a series of tips & tricks I use everyday in my floral design business. The first series I’m calling “pantry staples”.

We all know the feeling of buying beautiful blooms only to get them home, arranged and looking dead within a day’s time (looking at you, hydrangea). It’s frustrating to deal with such finicky stems, but there is a trick that can help extend your flowers’ vase life tremendously, and you might even already have it in your spice pantry. Enter: Alum powder. I recently spoke with Hugh Metcalf with Living Etc magazine about the florists’ staple tool for thirsty stems prone to wilting. To read the entire article, click here. Otherwise, excepts below:

However, speaking to a professional flower grower, I learned a great secret about how to keep these blooms alive. 'As a flower-farmer, I’d love to share a tip that has saved me many finicky cut-hydrangea blooms, in particular,' says Meredith Bishop, founder of Bloom & Beauty, and it involves something you can buy for less than $5 at a grocery store.

'One, always cut in the coolest part of the day (morning or evening) straight into water,' Meredith says — something that applies if you're growing your own hydrangea, not getting them from the store. 'Next, scrape a bit (1/2” or less) of bark off the stem at the cut point. Finally, dip the cut end into alum powder and replace in fresh water,' she says.

So what exactly is alum powder? 'It's a spice in the onion family found in the spice aisle of most grocery stores,' Meredith explains, but why does it help your hydrangeas last longer?

Turns out alum is a pickling spice- the same one you might use to make your freshly canned cucumbers turn into crunchy pickles. Alum acts on the stems ability to take up water and hold onto it, increasing its “crunch”, if you will.

Alum powder isn’t a good idea for hydrangeas only. In fact, one of my favorite times to use it is when I forage branches in the spring or fall. Anything with a woodier stem is prone to dehydration (usually perennials such as viburnum, roses, smokebush, lilac as examples), and alum powder can really make a world of difference in keeping an arrangement in peak form. Give it a try on your next grocery run!

Beauty will save the world

A Cotswold window onto the natural world

Why are we drawn to beautiful things? And why might it matter?

(Note: This post was taken from a local interview I gave in May 2023 in response to the question: “Is there a particular goal or mission driving your creative journey?”)

The impetus behind my business is a call to beauty.

I believe Dostoevsky was correct when he famously said "Beauty will save the world."  This isn't cliche, though it can sound cheap and surface.  In fact, it points to a profound reality- the three transcendentals of truth, goodness and beauty are inextricably intertwined, and point us to the highest human good—the infinity of the human soul.  The three only live in their unity- truth taken abstractly is an empty word, goodness a mere feeling, and beauty an idol.  The power lies in their indivisibility.  Truth IS goodness, perceived by the human mind. Beauty is the same goodness and truth, embodied in a solid form.

As an enneagram four (and I get it- it's annoying to talk about the enneagram at this point!) beauty often leads the way for me. But it's a portal, not a destination. A portal to meaning.  The beauty of gardening & creatively arranging the garden's bounty (& ultimately gifting it) is no small thing: the beauty of a sprouted seed points to hope; the beauty of a feeding bumblebee points to the connectedness of humans and nature; the beauty of an arrangement, the stems  dancing in the vase, reaching around a neighbor still searching for the sun, points to the power of life, even when your roots have been cut from under you; the beauty of gifting an arrangement of flowers to a friend in either of the two human poles of need or celebration points to the power of friendship to touch, see and uplift.

So yes, there is a mission driving my creative journey, and it is this: beauty is a “way in” to the things that matter.

Why you should still be forcing Paperwhites…and how to keep them upright

If you’re like me, you love the smell and beauty that the dainty Paperwhite blossom can bring during the drab winter days. Aside from grabbing a boring & odorless grocery store bouquet to attempt to bring spring cheer to my winter table, forcing bulbs is the main way I cultivate indoor beauty during the darker months. Forcing Paperwhite bulbs is incredibly easy, and for very little effort in a matter of weeks you can have containers full of gorgeous blooms that last for over two weeks. I try to keep them on rotation in my home from Thanksgiving until April, as I find that I’m just desperate for beauty during these five months.

But Paperwhites, unlike their winter counterpart the Amaryllis, are notorious for flopping stems once the blossoms open and are at their most beautiful stage. I often stake with curly willow and wrap with a pretty ribbon, but this can be a hassle, and honestly detracts from their natural charm in my opinion.

I’ve experimented with the alcohol method for keeping stems from flopping in the past (if you haven’t heard of it before, read on). It certainly stunted growth, and that helped keep the stems upright. But, I still found that they would flop toward the end of life. After a bit of research, I discovered a second method which purported to solve the problem and I decided to experiment with both methods on a round of bulbs this winter. The methods are:

• alcohol

• complete darkness

First, alcohol. Yes, it really is encouraged to literally give the bulbs a drink. A study by Cornell University demonstrated that Paperwhites (& so far only this variety of flower) have been found to respond to a liquor-water solution with stunted growth by 1/2 to 1/3, with flower size and longevity untouched. And the thought is- shorter stems equal less flopping.

The details for the diluted alcohol solution are pretty specific. As with humans, moderation is key. Too high a concentration of alcohol will be toxic to the plants. Shoot for a 4-6% alcohol concentration by combining 1 part liquor (40% alcohol) to 7 parts water. Avoid beer or wine, as the sugars won’t pair well with the bulbs. I used a cheap vodka, and made a large batch of the solution to keep near the plants until they were ready to bloom. If you prefer not to use liquor, you can substitute rubbing alcohol, but due to its very high alcohol content, you will need to adjust your ratio to 1 part rubbing alcohol to 11 parts water.

Paperwhites can be planted in dirt, gravel, stones, marbles, glass beads, etc. Substitute the alcohol solution for water each time you water the bulbs (and generally I water 1/4 cup about twice a week until blooms open). You should see the effect on the stem length within a week or so.

Method two? A coffin. Weird, I know. Just when you’re trying to bring Paperwhite bulbs out of dormancy, this method suggests you send them into a cocoon of complete darkness for ten days to two weeks. First, you pot them up as you normally would, and “wake them up” by giving them a small drink of plain water. Roots that are dormant are incredibly sensitive to the presence of water, and will go searching (ie: growing) toward even the smallest amount. Then, you find a spot in your home that won’t see any light (under a cabinet, in a rarely used closet, the basement) and you put them back to sleep for ten days.

The idea here is that the roots of the bulbs will reach for the water, but without a light source the plant won’t try to photosynthesize and leaf out. So, for a period of time, you allow the roots to grow strong and robust without the plant putting on any height. Granted, this method does not purport to stunt the growth, but the idea is that more well-developed roots will hold bulbs & stems in place better, leading to less flopping.

Alcohol+darkness on the left; Darkness alone on the right

Combining the two methods? A true winner. To test the hypothesis, potted up two containers of dormant paperwhites. I already knew that the alcohol solution would stunt growth, but it still wasn’t 100% great in the battle against flopping stems. I wanted to see if the darkness method alone (with more robust roots) would hold them up better as they aged.

Here’s what I did: I watered each slightly with plain water, and then put them in a completely dark, cool place for 10 days. After the dark period, I moved them to the brightest spot in my house, and began to water one with the alcohol solution a couple of times per week, while giving the other plain water. After about two weeks, the stems on both were healthy and straight, but the alcohol + darkness pot were considerably shorter.

They both bloomed beautifully. Neither method seemed to inhibit scent (these were Ziva) nor bloom size.

As the flowers fully blossomed, I moved them out of the sunny spot to try to extend bloom time. At this point, the darkness-only planter began to flop considerably. My memory from experimenting with alcohol-only in years’ past was that the stems lost straightness at about this point, also, so I was interested to see what would happen as the blooms began to fade on the planter I had used both methods.

As you can see below, it did beautifully. I really think this is the key to straight stems through the entire blooming life of Paperwhite bulbs. While I ended up trashing the darkness-only planter early, I never had to resort to staking and tying the other. The stems continued to grow slightly, giving the blooms varying heights, and the scent was moderately strong until the blooms became brittle.

We tend to think of Paperwhites as a December-only flower, but a bag of 50 is inexpensive and you can pot them all up in ANYTHING and pull one or two out of darkness every 10 days to have a continuous supply until the daffodils and tulips save the day!

Hope you’ll give this a go!