Known for its crops of grapes, wheat, and corn, the bucolic township of Buchanan, in the southwestern corner of Michigan, is an unlikely spot to find a Surrealist garden. But that is precisely what Alan Koppel, a Chicago art dealer, and his wife, Sherry, an interior designer, have conjured on the acreage surrounding their weekend house.

“If you know something of Surrealism, the garden means more to you,” Alan explains. “But you can enjoy it even if you know nothing.” Hidden among towering trees is a custom-made carved-wood horse head that refers partly to René Magritte’s 1926 collage The Lost Jockey and partly to a 1940s Alexander Calder chess set. Tall carved-wood spindles known as bilboquets —Alan, influenced by other Magrittes, designed them to resemble elongated pawns—are tucked amid the greenery, too.

One strange feature, at the end of a grass path, is a freestanding black mantel topped by what appears to be a framed mirror, two candlesticks, and a clock, embodying Magritte’s famous 1938 painting Time Transfixed , though without the old-fashioned locomotive hurtling out of the fireplace. But upon close inspection, the golden frame is empty, and there are four candlesticks, a second pair standing directly behind the first, and two clocks that are placed back-to-back, creating the illusion of a reflection.

Meandering through the trees, one discovers more and more bewitcheries. The Koppels’ Tuba on Fire is a Magritte image made three-dimensional and high-octane. Alan bought the brass instrument on eBay and equipped it with a concealed gas tank that allows flames to shoot up through a perforated pipe outlining the horn’s silhouette. As for Alan’s installation Girl in the Ground , a pair of 1940s stocking molds are upended, as if a woman had plunged head-first and waist-deep into the emerald turf.

Not far from the mantel installation is the serene Tree Room, a square space bound by privet hedges, shaded by hedge maples, and invitingly furnished with rattan chairs and a metal table. Off the home’s master bath is the Walled-In Garden, an enclosure measuring ten feet square, which incorporates an outdoor shower surrounded by beautifully planted walls, two hosting espaliered pear-apple trees, and two others blanketed with climbing hydrangeas and a Japanese maple. (To keep the grounds at the peak of perfection, the Koppels employ David Lugardo, a local landscaper, six days a week. “Without him,” Sherry says, “we are nothing.”)

Provocative and disorienting, the Koppel garden has also become a working laboratory. “Fountains and urns can cost $20,000 to $100,000, but why can’t you get an ornament for $5,000 or $6,000?” Alan asks. Thus, he expects to introduce a line of affordable outdoor eye-catchers next year. The designs remain top secret, but, given the source, they surely will have artful allusions.