This unassuming dwarf quince can steal your heart. There are many who have gone to Japan for the spectacular pines, junipers, and maples, only to discover the quiet but memorable Chojubai. Those ‘many’ included a few friends of mine, and myself. This post is a little longer than most because Chojubai is so little known in the West, and, frankly, I think it deserves better. Also, waiting for you at at the end of this long post is a question…

A well-known root-over-rock Japanese flowering quince ‘Chojubai’. 45 cm high

Fairly typical of the multiple-trunk old Chojubai now seen in Japan. 33 cm high

Chaenomeles japonica ‘Chojubai’ is a cultivar of the comparatively coarse Japanese flowering quince. Few plants for bonsai can match its contrasting qualities: Idiosyncratic, craggy branching and twigging, with rough older bark, adorned almost contradictorily with glowing ruby flowers. They flower mostly when out of leaf, in winter, so they lend a feeling of glowing life to the bonsai yard when all else is dull. The details are small, with glossy leaves about 1/2″ long and flowers under 1″ wide. There are several flower variations including white and red, although almost all Chojubai used for bonsai are red-flowered because that variety has the finest twigging.

Medium-sized (‘chuhin’) Chojubai. Fine old tree. 29 cm high

Quirky medium-sized raised-root Chojubai. 30 cm

The history of this tree in Japan is interesting… At first, Chojubai appeared commonly as a small accent plant in the Kokufu show forty years ago, as an unramified twig or two. Only rarely was it seen as a primary tree in the medium size category, and never in the large size. It was a second tier tree. Then something shifted. Around 1990 we began to see large size Chojubai in the Japanese shows. These were trees about 1-1.5 feet tall and twice as wide, multiple-trunked and highly ramified. Occasionally single-trunked trees, which are rare, were seen. In Kokufu book 80, about six years ago, two Chojubai won Kokufu prizes. Two years later in book 82 another won. Chojubai had come of age.

Most Chojubai are enjoyed out of leaf, although the small glossy leaves are perfectly in scale. As Chojubai often flowers nearly year-round there is nothing stopping you from putting them on the display tables any day of the year. 30 cm

You might wonder why I put this in…Well, it is a Chojubai accent plant in the Kokufu show 40 years ago. Interesting, isn’t it, how tastes and techniques have changed? These days, this tree would be unlikely to even get accepted into a local Western show.

The vast majority of Chojubai grown for bonsai are the red-flowered variety; all the other photos in this gallery are of red-flowered trees. This is a white-flowered tree and it won a Kokufu prize. Very hard to ramify the white ones. 33 cm

Chojubai’s ease of ramification is enhanced with training, creating dense forms of intense complexity. Most unique to the Chojubai is the natural eccentricity and unexpected angles and directions in the branching, which are usually encouraged as they represent the special flavor of this variety. If this were a plant trained by music, that music would be jazz.

A red-flowered Kokufu prize winner. Very old. This is a good example of the extremes in technique used to create a very crystalized form. Impressive, and yet in some ways perhaps not showing the best of what Chojubai offers. Hmm, I wonder how long I will be in purgatory for that comment… 35 cm

One of the rarer single-trunked Chojubai. Another Kokufu prize winner. If you have a single-trunked tree, be very sure to cut all suckers that come from the root base. Beautiful old tree! The warty bark is evident only with great age. 38 cm

If you have a Chojubai, you’re lucky. Keep it moist. Plant in deeper containers to hold more water. If you have a young plant, put it in a big training pot with large size soil mix for a few years, so you have some energy to manipulate. Keep in the sun. Use a pesticide when shoots are elongating to control aphids. Wire main branches and shoots from the base for multiple trunks, and cut and grow following that. This is not so much to create branch taper, as there will be little of that, but for the short, zigzagging and erratic branching that is only created by many years of scissor work. Cut back in June to one to three internodes only on refined trees, leave extensions on younger plants to develop trunk. Always immediately remove shoots that come from the base that you are not intending to use as trunks—they will weaken the older areas. There’s more to it, but that will get you started.

Lovely loosely styled multiple-trunk Chojubai. Many years of careful scissor pruning created this natural form. 40 cm

Chojubai just beginning to grow in April at Shinji Suzuki’s nursery.

Another Chojubai at Suzuki’s a month later, in May, just before trimming the extensions.

Chojubai at my place in mid-December, showing tiny flower buds. Any strong tree, with timely trimming, will produce this many buds. It has already had a few flowers open, which are about 1″ across, and will continue blooming for 3-4 months until late March when the leaves start coming out. After that the blooming is more sporadic.

After all those words and photos, there’s no hiding that I’m totally besotted with Chojubai. Ah well. Another personal secret offered to the globe. But I have a wondering curiosity if these images stirred—if any photograph CAN stir—the endearments that Chojubai have raised in myself and others lucky enough to have seen them in person. I imagine many of you have never seen Chojubai before. What do you think? Something you’d like to see more of?

Unusual for a ‘Chojubai’ Japanese flowering quince, this old tree has been in full-on flowering mode since mid-August. Although a Chojubai can typically push a flower almost any month of the year, they are generally at peak flowering from January-April, before the leaves come out. This amount of flowering in the summer is not common.

It is common, though, to see this few leaves on a Chojubai at this time of year. In late summer more than half the leaves will yellow and drop off, and it’s nothing to panic over. The tree is just taking a break. In a couple more months all the leaves will be gone. So that’s what’s going on there. This tree not in the right pot, though, so please don’t write me about that… a smaller, square turquoise pot will be its new home next year.

Old Chojubai quince flowering in the summer! 16″/41 cm high

I’ll find any excuse to share photos of Chojubai!

A few of these photos are of older trees blooming in my yard this spring, in their new antique pots. (Love that oxymoron, ‘new antique’—new to me, but also old to me and everyone else). I’ve also included photos of younger plants I’m growing.

‘Chojubai’ is the cultivar name for a dwarf form of Japanese Flowering quince. Because of the scarcity of Chojubai bonsai in the United States, and because I enjoy working with them, a few years ago I started growing them in some volume. Even though the ability to develop woody plants is nearly unparalleled in Oregon’s Willamette Valley, it’ll still take me about 8 years to make a product I’m happy with, ready for a bonsai pot. In the meantime I’ll share a few of the Chojubai I’ve got going here, in various stages.

To date, pots with Chojubai outnumber all other plants combined in my yard… although I’d NEVER admit to any favoritism. Really, they just multiply whenever I turn around, I have nothing to do with it. Randy critters. I think they need a lecture on safe propagation. Until I do that, I’ll keep potting up the newcomers.

For more about Chojubai including some famous trees from Japan, see my earlier post Diminutive Jewels.

12″ H, 22″ W. One of the older Chojubai I have. This one seems to start growing a bit later than others and only flowers once a year, but has great bark. In a pot that is not antique but maybe 40 years old, and must have been used for at least 39 of those years as it has a lovely patina developing on its surface, softly greying the cream glaze.

10″ H. This modest-sized tree is in a nakawatari Chinese shirokouchi, which is fancy bonsai lingo for: The pot came from China about 150 years ago and has a cream glaze. Pot supplied by Maestro Matt Reel.

16″ H. Although about as old as the first one, maybe 40 years, this tree doesn’t have quite as good bark, but it grows more vigorously and blooms 2-3 times a year. Bark is related to age, but more significantly for Chojubai, it’s related to genetics. So if we’ve got a young plant and don’t know where it came from, we won’t know when or if it will develop that wonderfully craggy, checked bark that adds so much to their beauty in the winter. One 25-year-old plant I have still has none of that characteristic bark.

11″ H. This Chojubai was grown by Anne Spencer since 1990 from a three year old plant. Container by Sara Rayner. Anne was meticulous in her notes, and they read: “Purchased at GSBF convention from Roy Nagatoshi. Is cutting from original plant near Nagatoshi’s nursery, originally from Japan. $7.50–3 yr. cutting. Planted into garden for winter.” This little tree blooms a couple times a year. We all miss Anne.

20″ wide. This rascal has been growing in my yard for a couple of years, bought as a 6-7 year old plant from Telperion Farms. Blooms several times a year, if I let it. Which I don’t.

More rascals in the back-forty, also originally from Telperion Farms a couple years ago.

A rascal-to-be. Cuttings taken last year from the old multiple-trunk tree on this post, the first photo. Love the bark on that tree! Some of these cuttings were trying to bloom less than a year from growing roots. I don’t make this stuff up! They’re crazy plants.

The last photograph here needs some explanation, since any use of a ladder and a roof reaches beyond usual bonsai technique… But to tackle the serious ‘middle part’ of this post first, I thought a series of notes about Chojubai might help get to know this little rascal a bit better because it is so little known.

This time we’ll talk about their bark. All Chojubai are not the same. There is not one single genetic out there. Among other differences, Chojubai have different speeds of bark development, from a rough-barked form that develops a corky looking bark within a few years to some that don’t seem to have appreciable checked bark even after twenty. For all of them, however, if we’re growing the tree hard for trunk caliper, then bark will not start forming until we slow things down and have it in a bonsai pot.

The following are a few photos of Chojubai bark:

Twenty-five year old tree with something common to older Chojubai, which is exfoliating bark near the base. The smooth areas are where older bark has flaked off. This is more common on thicker trunked trees. Thinner and multiple trunked trees have less of a tendency to shed bark.

Another older tree, maybe 40 years old, with a lot of bark coming off. To keep the tree strong and blooming well fertilizer is important, but one may wish to limit fertilizer a bit with older trees to minimize bark shedding.

Young branch, only two years old.

Another younger branch, several years old, with bark beginning to silver.

Older branches of about 25 years, with the checked bark that is typical of Chojubai. Other kinds of Japanese Flowering quince, such as Toyonishiki, do not create bark of this nature. On the upper branches of Chojubai checked bark can be maintained for decades as they do not develop in girth very rapidly.

All four reasons we grow Chojubai in one photo—brilliant flowers, checked bark, idiosyncratic branch patterns, and diminutive leaves.

Bobby about to attempt Chojubai Test #349, aka the Chojubai Roof Toss. This experiment was decided on after it seemed impossible to actually damage a Chojubai by physical means, after witnessing a few young branches cracked in half in the spring and they kept growing through a very hot summer without a blink. Hence the Roof Toss to test the outer limits of Chojubai, performance art, bad technique, and bad idea all in one go.

After the major period of flowering in the cooler months of the year, ‘Chojubai’ Dwarf Flowering Quince will begin to grow. At the end of this period the plant is usually multi-tasking, flowering and growing. What you will see first are whorl growths of several leaves. These do not have an extension. About the time the tree begins slowing down on flowering, the major growth period ramps up and it will create extensions. They start as a pinkish white bud that grows fatter.

Two types of growth on Chojubai: Whorl growth which does not extend, and shoot growth which does. There is only one shoot growth in this photo. All the others are whorls. These may produce flower buds, or might later in the year extend themselves.

In spring you want to see many extensions on your Chojubai. Not all tips will extend, though, just about 10 percent of them.

What do we do, then, with our Chojubai at this time of year?

• Let those extensions run freely!
• No pinching…
• Then, when they harden off (usually around June), take your bud scissors, the skinny pointy ones, and cut them off, leaving a stub of about 1/2″ (1 cm), which will have as many as three and as few as one leaf on it. That’s on an established tree. A young tree is another story. You may want to leave extensions on for a year to build trunk caliper. Most Chojubai will have a second flush of extensions over the summer, but there won’t be as many.

Why do we let the extensions run?

• They build energy for the tree, and it will flower better, too
• You can develop your branching, and create more ramification

What if we’re not seeing these extensions?

• Be sure the tree is getting enough water and fertilizer. They like both.
• Make sure your tree is in soil that is not compacted, or too fine
• Upsize your container
• Stop complaining! Make those changes, and wait. Chojubai is very responsive to changes in husbandry.

Want more about Chojubai? Take a look at Chojubai Notes: Part 1

Continuing our tradition of sharing the worst, most abysmal results from Chojubai inspired experiments…here’s Bobby trying out our Chojubai Test #372: Chojubai Chai. Given our multiple brewings and tastings, it’s probably wise not to patent our ingredients: Organic Chojubai petals, cardamom, sugar, organic moss shavings, non-organic nickel tool plating, used organic fertilizer, organic vegan earthworm castings. We tried, but, admittedly, not nearly hard enough-

Last year I wrote a post about fertilizing, Refine your fertilizing this year! I wanted to expand on that and offer a few more notes, since, after all, it’s a brand new year for dung related issues-

Blogging is really a bit assumption-ridden, because we make one simple statement as if it’s unconnected to a million variables. For example, when I say ‘fertilize’, I assume that we’re using a fertilizer that has all 6 macronutrients, Nitrogen (N), Phosphorus (P), Potassium (K), Calcium (C), Magnesium (Mg), and Sulfur (S), which, if I don’t say that, or some other variable you’re assuming and I’m not, we’re NOWHERE. And we are better if we’re somewhere. At least.

• There are very few instances in bonsai, in early training or maintenance, where you don’t want a fertilizer with at least all 6 macronutrients. (i.e., without magnesium your tree can’t create chlorophyll, and without chlorophyll the idea that your plant can create food for itself is sort of unconnected to reality, and hence, bending a branch is cosmically silly-)

Ok, covered that variable.

A few fertilizing comments for this 2014 season:

• Many problems we might see—burned leaves, browning needle tips, leaves that are too dark green, etc.—are very often basic care issues that have nothing to do with fertilizing. Just to take that last one, very dark green leaves is an indication a bonsai that is not getting enough sun.

• There’s rarely a need to slam a tree with twice as much fertilizer as the directions suggest. More of enough is not better in the world of plant nutrition.

• Normally, flowering trees are first fertilized after the flowering period. But this is another general statement. Some plants are nearly perpetual bloomers, like the quince I’ve talked about so much here, Chojubai, and those should be first fertilized when they are growing shoots in the spring even though they might still be flowering.

• If we fertilize flowering accents randomly or broadcast, you may diminish the blooming of some. Fertilize them like your trees, when they finish blooming, not before.

• If we fertilize an old tree too much—a pine with craggy, old bark for instance—it may shed that old bark and begin looking young. Many plants are perennials in ways we cannot be, for they can be restored to youth quite literally.

• If we under-fertilize a young tree it will begin to look older than it is…for one thing, it will develop bark faster. But it may take much longer to achieve the other goals we seek in bonsai, too, like substantial trunks, etc.

• Get your water and soil tested! Fertilizing will be different for different pH ranges. For example, recent research suggests that phosphorus (P) from bone meal is only available to plants in soils with a pH below 7.0. In fact, for most bonsai, if you can get close to 6.5 pH, most plant nutrition problems are greatly minimized.

• Finally, fertilizing is much less important than optimizing the big ones: Sun and water. If we optimize the big ones, we won’t be turning to fertilizer as if it were a magic bullet. It isn’t one. It’s a distant second stage booster on our little rockets.

Are you yawning yet? Well, I know it’s not jazzy stuff. The world of bonsai has more exciting parts to it, and can get pretty romantic, too. Hybridizing with flowers, for instance, is a sure way to make at least a few people blush. But hopefully you’re yawning more interestedly now about fertilizing.

Fertilizing incredibly well is only for really cool people. Join the Smelly dorks! We’re a band of organic fertilizing rebels called the Secret Smelly Society, and we’re not growing very fast. Ironically.

Few plants come without a puzzling issue or two. For ‘Chojubai’ Dwarf Flowering Quince, the most serious issues are in the roots. Chojubai are strong plants that will normally extend 6” (to 18″) per growth surge. If this is not seen, then be on the alert.

A weak tree will not make typical extensions in the spring and might have a yellowish color. Some weak Chojubai are simply in soil that is too fine, are overwatered or underwatered, or are in pots that are too shallow, and those are easy to correct.

Otherwise the root zone of a Chojubai is susceptible to several problems that can weaken your tree. The first is a nematode, the second is a bacteria, and the third is a root gall, and they’re all separate but interrelated parts of the disease known as crown gall. It’s not frequent, but if you have a Chojubai, be on the alert for general weakness. I’ve been looking into this problem for a while, and my apprentice Bobby has been very helpful in discovering some of the links too, so I’d like to offer here what we’re doing now to tackle these root issues.

• In a quick summary, root lesion nematodes cause wounds in the Chojubai’s fine roots that provides an entry for a truly rascally bacteria, Agrobacterium tumefaciens, which causes crown gall. A wound from a root-pruning tool can also provide entry. The bacteria lives inside the root, and transfers part of its DNA to the DNA of plant cells, which, with cell division, cause the callus-like galls we see on the roots of affected plants. So the bacteria is very sneaky fella, and not too easy to get rid of!

First, there was a nematode… named Nibble.

…then there was a bacteria…named WisFree…

…and lastly there was a gall…named Warty. And they all had a rockin’ party in your pot. Keep reading to discover what mickies to throw in their drinks…

If you see galls (Warty and friends) on the roots of Chojubai, try these treatments:

1. Shift the tree into a bigger pot. If the weakened Chojubai is in fine soil, a small pot, compacted soil, or a shallow pot, definitely transfer it to a deeper, larger container or box with coarse pumice (1/3” + size) or similar on the bottom and sides surrounding the original soil mass. Let it grow freely, without overwatering it (algae and liverwort are the clues), while controlling the other issues.
2. Control the root lesion nematode. There are nemacides specific for the control of nematodes, and these may be used. With a suggestion from a friend and a couple of tests I found that soaking the root ball in Zerotol at 1.25 oz / gal will kill the nematodes. This can be done while the tree is still in the pot.
3. Control the bacteria. The problem with the bacteria is that it’s inside the root itself. Copper is effective for this bacteria, (the Japanese bonsai professionals use Streptomycin, but it’s puzzling to figure the proper concentration for plants since they are made for internal use with animals). I’ve been using Phyton 35, which is a systemic copper bactericide/fungicide. Be sure to read the label carefully—Phyton 35 requires a change in the water we mix it in to a pH of 5.5-6.5.
4. Control the gall. Cut the gall away with pruners when repotting. It may take several repottings to get all the gall removed.

What seems to be important is to take care of this three-ring circus systematically. First knock out the nematode. Then go after the bacteria. And finally cut away the gall. Even if you’ve killed your nematode and the bacteria, you may still have the gall as the DNA from the bacteria will keep replicating with cell division. But if you’ve killed the nematode and are controlling the bacteria, a weakened Chojubai often shows a very rapid jump back into strong growth. I’ve seen new, large, strong leaves and even shoots on a totally stalled Chojubai in under two months with these treatments.

The nematode is often the primary culprit, which appear to think that Chojubai roots are like crack cocaine, chocolate, nirvana, or all three. They can knock down the root system of a quince quite rapidly, and then you see a weakened tree with a gimpy root system that does not have the typical vigor of Chojubai. Many other Rose family plants are particularly tasty to nematodes.

A few of the nematodes you can see without a loupe (I’ve seen some about ½” long, and look like glassy worms), others are nearly microscopic. If you find the gall you can assume you’ve got the bacteria. Prevention is best, such as being careful about sterilization of cuts, and controlling the nematode.

Hopefully you’ll never see galls on your tree, but if you do, try these remedies to bring your tree back to health!

A few older posts about ‘Chojubai’ Dwarf Flowering Quince:

• http://crataegus.com/2011/12/22/chojubai-quince-diminutive-jewels/
• http://crataegus.com/2013/03/25/the-joys-of-chojubai/
• http://crataegus.com/2013/09/13/chojubai-notes-part-i/
• http://crataegus.com/2014/04/23/chojubai-notes-part-2/

Being a thin-trunked bonsai, most Dwarf Flowering Quince ‘Chojubai’ would naturally make us think, ‘Shallow pot!’ but we’d be just causing grief to our tree…

…or shrub.

Because that’s really the crux of the matter. Chojubai is a shrub, a fact which influences everything about its care and maintenance, including pot choice. You’ve probably noticed photos of beautiful old azaleas in Japan in rather deep pots. Almost all shrubs do better in deeper pots.

Chojubai in a deepish pot, fine for general, year-to-year cultivation. Many pots for Chojubai are even deeper than this.

Why is this? Why do they prefer deeper pots? Shrubs tend to have surface feeding roots rather than deeply seeking roots. Which sounds like they’d do fine in a shallow pot…except that shrubs like Chojubai prefer even moisture on their roots, not overly dry or overly wet. And shallow pots easily create those more extreme conditions.

In some cases a shrub’s root system in a deeper pot will only colonize the top 2/3 of the pot, but don’t worry about that. The bottom 1/3 or so is like a bobber, to float the roots above the area most likely to stay too wet.

Chojubai in last year’s Kokufu show, in a shallower pot for display. Most of these trees are transferred back into a deeper pot post-show. Love this tree. Beautiful natural styling, sucks you in, more about natural beauty than man-made beauty—

Shallow pots might be used with Chojubai, but care will be more exacting, and mostly they are only used for show. The care of many plants in shallow pots, even for those plants we tend to grow in them, like maples, is challenging. For usual care and growth, a Chojubai should be planted in much deeper pots than you’d think.

To sum up, pots for Chojubai should be:

• Shallow: For show
• Deeper: Best for year-round growth

More posts about Chojubai:

http://crataegus.com/2011/12/22/chojubai-quince-diminutive-jewels/

http://crataegus.com/2013/09/13/chojubai-notes-part-i/

http://crataegus.com/2014/04/23/chojubai-notes-part-2/

http://crataegus.com/2014/08/02/chojubai-notes-part-3-why-is-my-chojubai-weak/

Summertime, summertime… And your Chojubai is losing its leaves. And you are freaking out.

Well, maybe don’t.

In the middle of summer, right around now, your ‘Chojubai’ dwarf flowering quince will yellow and drop off half its leaves. For most things, this would be a weird time of year to lose a lot of leaves, but Chojubai is definitely off the weird shelf, designed to keep us guessing.

Older Chojubai showing typical summer yellowing. There’s also some of the spotty flowering that tends to happen in the warm months.

Please note that this summer yellowing and dropping of leaves is not related to mosaic disease, which is a minor yellowing on leaf edges.

Another older tree showing the same thing. Notice also that the new foliage is larger than the spring foliage.

These little quince are rather oddballs in that they don’t seem particularly interested in the leaves they grow. Fickle, more like it. They’ll use them for a while, then ditch them in nearest compost pile they can find. Shameful, wasteful life forms. But they seem to be happy, and simply grow a second set of leaves in the summer. These are often bigger than the spring set of leaves, but your older Chojubai will still look more sparse in the summertime.

The young plants are a different story. They can drop some summer leaves too, but sometimes not. And in a hot summer year like this one, will keep pushing long shoots…

Young Chojubai throwing long shoots in the summer. These plants have none of the yellowing leaves of the older plants.

Hot summers can push long growth on Chojubai. I measured one that was charging off, currently 33″ long…and still growing!

Even the best front can become boring over time…a pot change, a change in inclination, or even a front change can enliven an old familiar tree and make it feel like we’ve suddenly got a new one.

This ‘Chojubai’ quince has several front possibilities. This year we decided to shake it up a bit. The photo essay tells the tale of our front shift, and what we did to make it work:

Base of the Chojubai quince from the original front. Note small but old branch coming off the lower nebari to the right. Nebari is narrow from this front.

New front possibility. Small old branch is now right in our face. Nebari is seen to best advantage, however.

New front with low branch removed. Best branch movement is from this front, and also nebari, although the tree needs a slight tip to the right for better top balance.

Removing Chojubai from pot using a root scythe.

Rootball prior to return to the pot. Old soil mass is 50% akadama, 50% pumice, very dense with roots (I add some lava for conifers.)

Potted at new front, with a slight change in inclination to the right.

Left side, which is close to the original front. Tree is tipped back (in this photo, to the left) for the new front, it was leaning too far forward.

Back. Also interesting curves, but with a low branch that comes right at us, and the tree moves away from us. Not a good choice for a front.

Right side. Interesting, like all sides of this tree, but like the original front the nebari is not very good.

With most any tree, these are the kinds of juggled decisions one must make for the best front: Best trunk and branch angles and views, the push and pull of receding and approaching movements (impossible to photograph…), the trees’ best features such as nebari…all of which combine in the overall gestalt to be (hopefully) both harmonious and interesting. A tall order! We’ll be looking at this one for a couple years with refreshed eyes, at any rate.

A couple weeks back we photographed all the Dwarf Flowering Quince ‘Chojubai’ that were looking fancy, as they all decided to bloom at the same time this year. Which is not textbook Chojubai, but it happened.

Happy Holidays everyone, here’s some trees in their fancy clothes starting with three older quince, early development courtesy of unknown artists:

The next group of photos are trees that I’ve developed here at Crataegus Bonsai for the last 7 years, and are about 10 years old. (Soon I will begin selling some of the ones I have created, and if you’re interested in being on the list, please do let me know.)

Last week I was flipping back and forth between old photos and newer ones to see how a Dwarf Flowering Quince ‘Chojubai’ bonsai has changed.

Just to take six years in the life of this old fella, from 2012 to 2018, one can see a difference in the ramification. The first photo looks uninspiring, old and good bones but little else. By the second photo we begin to see the results of the last few years, and the reason why one trims deciduous bonsai.

• A deciduous bonsai won’t generally ramify well on its own. It will simply lengthen its branches and kill off the inner twigging, which we want to keep. Timely trimming is necessary to keep what the tree already has, and to build further ramification.
• However if the tree is a shrub, like Chojubai, the situation has an added complication in that it is a basally dominant plant. So if we don’t trim the basal shoots and those arising on the trunk, the old, twiggy, exterior parts of the tree will weaken and eventually die. 

Each species has its own ramification technique. For a Chojubai the technique is trimming back the extended shoot about the time it’s hardening off in late spring / early summer. Leave about 1/3″ / 0.5 cm of the shoot, which will have several buds. From that area 1-3 shoots might arise, but usually just one. But back budding can occur as well. If you do this early enough, in June, you might also get a summer trim in, late July, and then a third and final trim in the fall which won’t create regrowth.

Dwarf Flowering Quince ‘Chojubai’ in 2012, showing good bones but little else.

Same Chojubai in 2018, six years later, with ramification created from trimming back extensions in late spring. The directionality of the branches was created by careful trimming and not wiring. If you trim fast without looking where the bud is pointing, you will create a mess and might as well wire your tree.

Also 2018, but taken in late summer when half the leaves fall off, and, as is customary for Chojubai, when another burst of flowers comes out.

Like many plants—fruiting trees, like apple, and some conifers such as larch and gingko—there are two shoot structures. Whorl-type growth has leaves that are very closely set in a circular pattern, often called a spur branch, and the other structure is an elongating shoot. On a Chojubai trimming of the shoot at the right time can trigger some of the spur branches to change into an elongating shoot. It is this extension growth that will allow you to create branch structure, and thus ramification. The spur branches will create a bit of twigginess.

Trimming 2-3 times a year assumes continual fertilizing throughout the growing season, regular watering, and good sun. Chojubai can take a bit more sun than most deciduous bonsai. They flower erratically. Late winter is the major bloom time, but they can exhibit their fitful blooming potential with a late summer or fall push, too. Fertilizing consistently does increase blooming.

For more on Chojubai as bonsai, take a look at ‘Chojubai’ Quince—Diminutive Jewels.

This is a Japanese Flowering Quince Chojubai presented on a Western riding spur. ‘Presented?’ ‘Held’? ‘Lofted’? ‘Attached’? One might argue the proper term, but the riding spur was found on a hike in the Arizona mountains about 20 years ago, after falling off someone’s boot decades before. I’ve dragged it around everywhere I’ve lived, figuring it had an unknown future as part of something else. And that was revealed last week. When casting about in the garage for something to attach the chojubai to, my eyes settled on this ancient piece of ironsmithy…and the phrase ‘East meets West’ popped up, and I laughed, and there you have it. The latest bonsai orchid to grace our shade cloth structure was on its way to being born.

We had a great time making this, and throughout it all I wondered how old that riding spur actually was. It’s pretty dry there in Arizona and metal might last a while, and yet everything that used to move on it was rusted solid. So how old is that riding spur? 50 years old? 75? More? Any riders or blacksmiths out there care to make a guess?

The following is a photo essay of an afternoon going off into the aesthetic sunset during a Seasonal session. Enjoy-

Where we started: A chojubai root cutting, 7 years old, and a nicely rusted riding spur found in the mountains of Arizona, perhaps 50+ years old.

The riding spur attached to our plant support, a piece of nylon cutting board…

…using a propane torch to heat and bend the nylon…

Carmen is enjoying this torching part

Drilling holes for mounting

If you’re wondering why Andrew is teaching about muck making in the kitchen, you must attend a Seasonal session…

The nylon support, revised

John, Carmen, Zach, Tom, and Andrew involved in attaching the nylon thing to the plant thing. I kept out of the way.

Closeup of the operation

Zach using a persuader…a rawhide mallet that sees frequent use at repotting time

The planting inclination and front

Applying muck

And our final composition: East meets West. Not only is the support odd, the design is as well. There isn’t much a triangle to be found—and as we all know, if you don’t have a triangle there just isn’t a bonsai, for gosh darn sakes. So. The design elements here are circles, and we have three of them, small to large, left to right: Spur, Rootmass, Shrub. Hope you enjoy.

Here are two other ‘bonsai orchids’ that hang off our shade cloth structure, weather permitting:

Shore Pine on a Metal Post

Juniper Orchid

It’s been a while since I’ve posted about the endearing and rambunctious flowering shrub Japanese Flowering Quince, ‘Chojubai’. It grows vigorously, flowers well, and stays small. And it’s a good subject for fall work overview.

Old Chojubai in the fall

Often we are laser focused on our bonsai when they are growing…and then as vaporously disengaged when they’re not. Bonsai can get less attention in the fall as it seems there is little happening. And yet it’s one of our most important seasons. 

Fall pruning is essential on the bonsai calendar as it directs and organizes spring growth, for both conifers and deciduous. There are three features to fall pruning:

• Thinning and reducing the tangle: Pruning selects what shoots remain to grow, limiting a snarl of shoots that destroy bonsai structure, and also focusing a plant’s energy on the shoots and buds we wish to emphasize for next year’s growth.
• Directional pruning: Identifying a bud and cutting in front of it will determine the direction the shoot grows next spring. Most shoot growth is from the last bud. It’s called ‘directional pruning’ as we’re fairly certain to get a shoot pushing from the bud we cut back to, and the shoot will grow in the direction the bud is pointing.
• Pushing more buds: By pruning in fall we can also activate interior buds, that then push in the spring. The reason is it creates a hormone imbalance in favor of cytokinins, that then initiate more buds. Why not cut in the spring? We can certainly do that, yet it tends to simply push the buds that are already there.

Over years, then, by the subtle influence of fall pruning as opposed to spring pruning, we can create bushier plants. This works on many types of plants, too, not just Chojubai.

As for directional pruning, Dwarf Flowering Quince ‘Chojubai’ offer many choices. The internodes are so short, about 1/4″, that very detailed selective scissoring is possible (unlike a Winter Hazel, where after a few inches of internode you might be ecstatic to find a bud).

Once the leaves have dropped, or most of them, is a prime time to trim your Chojubai.

Typical Chojubai extensions found in the fall, the result of summer growth after the trim in late spring. With nearly all its leaves dropped, this is ideal timing for the fall trim on this specimen.

Here’s an example in three photos of the trim possibilities on one shoot. This first bud is very small, hard to see. If we cut here, the bud points back into the tree—which will create a tangle of branches rather than a good branch flow to the exterior. So we won’t cut back to this one, even though the internode is nice and short.

This bud is going in the right direction, outside the tree, but the internode is rather long for this refined tree. 

Here’s the best option, on the opposite side of the same shoot—the bud is not growing into the tree, and the internode is nice and short, 1/4″. But we had three bud options within 1/2″, which is a lot of options.

A few general observations about growing Chojubai:

• This is a ‘Let’s go!’ plant, raring to be off with the least encouragement. Chojubai may be trimmed twice a year: once in late spring as growth hardens off, and again in fall.
• Loves fertilizer! And early. Should be one of the first plants fertilized in the garden, in early spring along with Black Pines. As the season advances, increase the dosage somewhat. 
• Loves water! Don’t let it get too dry, and use a deeper pot. 
• May flower several times a year, depending on how it’s feeling. Really, none of us know when a Chojubai will flower, but the main season seems to be early spring. 
• Ignore the yellow edging on the leaves; this is mosaic virus. It’s nearly assumed on the plant (the vector is aphids), most Chojubai have it, nothing gets rid of it, but, happily, it doesn’t seem to slow down the plant.
• Although Chojubai is one the hardiest flowering/deciduous plants, it is also one of the very first to start growing in early spring. It might be off and running when the snow is still flying, so definitely protect it from frosts in the spring. Once growing, even the hardiest plant is susceptible to frost damage.
• While a yardful of Chojubai can be odd (like my hoop house in the back), enjoy these plants as a whimsical counterpoint to your conifers. They also make great accent plants.

To see many older Chojubai along with some historical notes, try this post: Diminutive Jewels. At this point there are at least 6-7 posts about Chojubai in the archive, just type ‘Chojubai’ into the search field of the blog to find them-

Footnote: A big thanks to Gary Wood for many years of influencing my thinking about plant physiology.