Cutting hedge: The wonderful world of topiary

As topiary goes, it's cutting hedge. At Nicky Fraser's house in north Shropshire, a bush says "chaos"; around the side, a conifer is inscribed with the word "graffiti".

"Love" and "hate" scream from their respective privet boxes in the back garden while a row of sinister skulls stare up from border.

The ancient art of topiary is making a horticultural comeback and, through some of its more extreme examples, is bringing smiles to faces along the rural lanes of Shropshire.

• See skulls, smiles and signage in our gallery to your right

Not least because of the work of artist Nicky who, with her husband Johnny, is leading a revolution in hedge liberation from her rural retreat here at Acton Reynald.

On a formal level, Nicky's precise clippings range from the straight lines of a formal garden to a figure of a rabbit immortalised in a box hedge.

But armed with shears no bigger than scissors, she also takes to the county's highways and byways, snipping graffiti messages such as "smile" and "my space" into common privet hedges.

Passers-by in Hadnall were bemused when the words "You are here" appeared in the greenery.

Nicky says: "When the chap who owned the property went to the pub that night, his friends said 'what's going on with your hedge – I saw somebody cutting it with a pair of scissors!'

"When we were doing that, lorries and buses were slowing down to have a look and people were laughing or taking photographs, and that's brilliant," says Nicky's husband and co-conspirator Johnny.

"It's the reaction we get from people that we like most."

"Most people's reaction is amazement," adds Nicky. "A lot of people laugh. And we had one woman say it was absurd.

"Not everyone wants it but we are trying to put the fun back into topiary and shock people in a nice way."

Indeed, it might be graffiti but it's the gentle kind – like Banksy with a garden kneeling cushion.

"And it is bringing topiary into the 21st century – it's saying you don't just have to have a duck or a rabbit or a squirrel," adds Nicky.

"No disrespect to squirrels, but that's not all you can do."

Like garden gnomes, the resurgence of topiary, which can be traced back at least as far back as Ancient Rome, has been bolstered by the availability of ready-made topiary available at garden centres and large DIY outlets such as B&Q.

But going under the name Knives Out, Nicky's art is far more bespoke and in many ways is true to the golden age of British topiary in the 17th century.

The pair often spot a potential yew tree, privet or box hedge that is crying out for modification and knock on the door of the owner.

"People don't know what they want until they get it," says Nicky. "We talk them into it usually. We might get called to trim a hedge and if it's a good one we run an idea past them."

Of course, like a hairstyle, the topiary can always be cut out later, but often the owners grow attached to the artwork which becomes a local talking point.

Topiary, she says, is infectious. Consider Brampton Bryan on the south west Shropshire border: through "cross-pollination" of the art, in recent years it has perhaps become the county's topiary capital.

In a similar way, Nicky has transformed a large row of yew trees near Much Wenlock into an organic looking "cloud pruned hedge".

"There was a 70ft row of overgrown yew trees and the owners wanted something different, but more challenging to us was to make it beautiful without it being an intrusion to the view of Brown Clee beyond from the house," says Nicky.

And so the "topiary two" fashioned a breathtaking row of clouds which dip and rise to maintain the stunning outlook from three main windows.

The couple are also involved in bringing back to life a much-loved peacock at Cressage, near Shrewsbury.

"The people there were up in arms when it got hit twice by passing vehicles. We don't normally do peacocks but then we got this call and it was more a call of duty to sort out the peacock."

Nicky, a former horticulture journalist, is entirely self-taught in the art of topiary, performing her work by eye without the help of spirit levels or templates.

And she is always picking up new techniques. The latest was from her hairdresser.

"I was watching his technique and because I have got quite thick hair he snips into it to thin and give it texture and make it stand out – so I tried it with a hedge and it worked. I made the letters stand out more from the hedge," she explains.

Nicky likes to do work that has meaning with the landowner. Recently her sheers came to the aid of a Shrewsbury woman who was concerned about her property being overlooked by a new house being built on adjacent land.

"Each hedge has relevance to the person who owns it and we put the words "my space" into hers, because this was her space."

Topiary is literally a growing art, and whether it's a box pyramid from B&Q or a row of hedgeclouds in Brampton Bryan, it becomes a talking point.

"Topiary is compulsive viewing!" says Nicky. "It is very English too. We are eccentric as a nation and we like formal gardens but we like to put a bit of a twist into them. And on top of that, we have our own take on topiary. We like to slip humour into it."

Nicky and Johnny have appeared in publications as far afield as New York, and are cultivating a following around the world.

They are also keen to branch out into public art, keen to liberate hedges in the urban environment.

Nicky also wants to hear from people who think they might have a hedge worthy of liberation.

"I sometimes see a hedge and am itching to get stuck into it," she says.

• For more information about Knives Out visit www.knivesout.co.uk