Kniphofias are one my Red Garden joys: the hot orange, yellow, and red spikes of flowers are unique in hardy perennials. And because the plants so often succumb to wetness in the Winter, they are oddities indeed here in New England. (I do some Extreme Mulching to get them through.)
This season, 'Alcazar' is better than ever, partly just because the clump is another year older.
Six spikes at once! The burnt-orange flowers, with only a bit of yellow in the oldest (at the bottom), are a vivid but not cacaphonous adjunct to the red of the nearby Jacob Cline monarda.
And the height and intensity of Alcazar is also great filler before dahlias (out of sight to the back of it) get going in August.
This is the sister clump, across the pathway. Yes: TEN spikes at once!

Eight feet further, 'Long Stocking'.
A swell daylily, but, in truth, it can't hold a candle to a what flanks it across the pathway:
Ah, 'Web Browser'.

A deep-red spider to eleven inches. Oh yes, eleven. In my book, this is as shocking as a Red Garden daylily can be. Is it getting hot in here, or is it me?

Once you've been stopped by 'Open Hearth', the next stop-light-grade daylily in your path is to the left, at the start of the south pair of beds of the Red Garden.
'Red Suspenders' is darker and, OMG, even larger than 'Open Hearth'.
 And I certainly paid for the added appeal: one pair of 'Suspenders' was $160.  

'Open Hearth' daylily is the first of my "Bodacious" series, not least because you can see it from anywhere.
Like fifty feet away, from down the narrow-grass "runway".
It says "Stop here! Look right, look left!"
Or through the sky-high Summer perennial show of the Winter Garden.

A 'Silver Umbrellas' aralia tries, without success I'm proud to say, to cool things down.

Having a Red Garden is a great excuse to collect the daylilies that would make even Dolly Parton blush: Gigantic flowers—five or six inches is waaaay puny: I'm talking 8, 10, 11 inches here. Flagrantly juvenile color combinations too, with yellow AND orange AND red all seeing who can shout the loudest. Shade your eyes: Here's the smallest and most tasteful of the bunch, 'Open Hearth.'

The flowers are about six inches, on shortish stems so numerous that on some mornings the whole airspace above the foliage is solid blossom. And like all daylilies, thankfully, Open Hearth isn't dampened one bit by my high water table, let alone a winter-flooded front-of-the-bed location.
As Dolly would exclaim."Whoo-EEE!"  This is one powerfully- proud perennial.