From the NYBG Orchid Show

If you didn't make it to the NYBG Orchid Show last week, then my apologies. It was a really lovely exhibit with what seemed to be tens of thousands of orchids.



I could spend weeks sharing photos and information about the difference species of orchids on display, but it's spring so I'd rather get on to all that is in bloom. A lot of what's in bloom have been covered before by this blog, such as: Cornus florida, Cherries, Virginia Bluebells, Muscari, Fothergilla and Magnolia soulangiana. But there's a lot that have yet to debut on this site, and I need to get to work.

In the meantime, here's some gorgeous orchids to get you inspired about the garden indoors.

Phalaenopsis

Cattleya (I think!)

Vandas


xDoritaenopsis

Odontocidium

Wilsonara

Finally, I must have had some case of orchid fatigue, because I didn't note what these species were. I loved them ,though - so different from a florist's orchid. If you know the species please write in!

I loved this - the long, thin sepals and mottling color. I just wish I wrote the name down! Alas, next year....

That Big Magnolia, Scaled....Sort of

As soon as I uploaded the photos I took of yesterday's giant star magnolia, I regretted that I hadn't taken a photo of it with a person or some other way to scale it.

Sure enough, within moments of publishing yesterday's post, I got an email asking how big it really was.




With some irreverence, I've attached a picture of the tree with Shaquille O'Neal photoshopped next to it. The Shaq's about 7' 1". I think he's pasted into this photo at about the right size, making this specimen about 45-60' high. No promises on that estimate though!

The Biggest Star Magnolia I've Ever Seen

So, I went to the NYBG's Orchid Show on Saturday, along with what seemed like most of the city. The conservatory was packed to the gills, but the show was lovely and one can't help but be awed by the quantity and variety of orchid species on display.

I'll certainly be posting about those plants in the weeks to come, but this week I'll focus instead on what's happening outdoors.



First up, this specimen, which is undoubtedly the biggest star magnolia (Magnolia stellata) I've ever laid eyes on. Amazing, isn't it? I've posted about Magnolia stellata before and have more than a few posts on the genus Magnolia as well. I don't have much to add today, save that I saw this at the NYBG grounds on the left of the path that leads directly to the conservatory from the cafe building. I was dumbstruck by the size and a little sheepish. I must have walked past this tree dozens of times and never paid much attention to it. Only when I saw it in bloom did I register what it was and how remarkable its size is. Shame on me.



It also made me a liar as far as my current students are concerned. Just last week we were speculating on the lifespan of this species. I guessed that they rarely last more than fifty odd years. However, this seemed to be grouped with some trees that were listed as 75-100 years old, so I would guess this specimen could easily be a septuagenarian!

Rose. Or, well the Rose Center, that is

Back in December, I posted this photo from the NYBG holiday train show - it's a model of the Rose Center and Hayden Planetarium made completely from plant material.


Last night, I passed the real thing, designed by James Polshek and built in 2000. Since my camera's been taking decent night photos - like the ones I took during the Wolf Moon - I thought I would post this.


Polshek says his intention was to build a 'cosmic cathedral.' I'd say he succeeded. Last night it was particularly beautiful, the orb glowing blue in the snowy park that surrounds it. What's more, the planetarium doesn't mar the integrity of the adjacent building, which houses the rest of the American Museum of Natural History. When you encounter the original structure on Central Park West, built by Jacob Wrey Mould and Central Park architect Calvert Vaux, you don't really notice Polshek's addition*, nor the marked contrast of the 133 years that separate the structures. It's not until you turn the corner on 81st Street that you are wowed by Polshek's design.


*Technically, the Polshek's design was not an addition but a renovation of a pre-existing planetarium.  Technically the building is in fact an addition not a renovation. The original planetarium was built in the 1930s and demolished. The design was created by Todd Schliemann and James Polshek of Polshek Partnership.

Glossy Abelia

I'll be honest, I haven't taken these photos with my new camera; it's just too miserable outside. Hopefully I will get new shots soon (i.e., the weather will warm up), but in the meantime, some photos of Glossy Abelia (Abelia x grandiflora), still blooming at the NYBG back in December.


I'd never classify this plant as a specimen - it's loose sprawling habit requires too much maintenance to shape into anything sculptural - but it's a terrific massing plant for public or institutional landscapes.


And obviously, it blooms well into the winter. I'd be curious how it has handled these 20 degree days.

Abelia x grandiflora is a hybrid of Abelia chinensis and uniflora.

NYBG: The Best of the Rest

I'm going to wrap up the week with photos of some of the other great models at the NYBG Train Show. But first, I'm sharing a little attention: Carolyn Friedman runs a blog calledRadiology Technician Schools (random, I know) and included New York, Plants and Other Stuff in her list of Top 50 Botany Blogs. Check out Carolyn's list for other great plant-inspired blogs.

Various NYC townhouses.

The Brooklyn Bridge (I love the use of pine bark for the brownstone bricks).

The Rose Center and Hayden Planetarium at the American Museum of Natural History.

St. Patrick's Cathedral

The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

Norway Spruce & Rockefeller Center

Since we are well into the holiday season, it seems appropriate to post on Picea abies or Norway Spruce.

Norway Spruces are probably recognizable to people living in the mid-Atlantic states, if not areas beyond, despite the fact that the plant is (as the common name suggests) native to areas between the Ural Moutains and Norway. It was introduced to North America during colonial times and has been a popular favorite since. It's often sold in a pot at plant nurseries as a 'live Christmas tree' that can be transplanted to the yard after the holidays. Of course, the subsequent danger is that it is planted too close to the house. I have seen more than one modest rancher dwarfed by these trees.


Norways are identifiable from other spruces by their almost pendulous habit. Long swooping branches have smaller branches, laden with needles, hanging down. In the past, I have likened this plant's habit to an Afghan dog. That's utterly ridiculous, I know, but my students seem to get it.



Picea is derivative of the ancient Latin name for pitch (pix). That's because the Norway's wood is often used for pulp and paper. It is also used for a furniture varnish. New shoots are used in a spruce beer and finally, the roots of this tree can be used for rope.



Note the woody husk that is pulled from the branch along with the needle. That's quite typical with Picea abies.

Another key I tell my students is Picea=pierce. That's because the needles are quite sharp - they pierce your skin much more than a similar looking Fir (Abies) tree would.


Picea abies is also quite famous, because it is usually the tree used at Rockefeller Center. Which gives me the perfect segway to some photos of the NYBG train show:


Yes, there's 30 Rock itself (flanked by other New York sights such as the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building), complete with the angel statues and even Prometheus.

Callicarpa and Penn Station (the good one)

It's always a good bet that when you see a plant full of untouched fruit in the winter, that said plant is not native. The subtext is that the non-native fruit is undesirable to the native wildlife. Things get a little muddy when you consider that some of our local wildlife is also non-native, or that deer -- a native animal -- will eat almost anything. But the concept has some merit, and if you assume the plant below is a non-native, you'd be right.



Here comes the part where I have to admit to a previous mistake (I hate that). When I last spoke about this genus, Callicarpa, I showed photos and equivocated on the species. I suggested it could be Callicarpa dichotoma or Callicarpa japonica and then I favored the latter.



Seeing these specimens at the NYBG last week, it's clear that the plant I posted on in September 2008 was Callicarpa dichotoma and this plant is C. japonica. The fruit set is decidedly different, the latter plant has fruit and flowers borne on longer cymes whereas the former has fruit set closely to the stem of the plant. Cymes, if you recall the post about linden flowers, are the small stems that connect the flower (or fruit) to the twig. Mea culpa.

Onward, to some fun models. The building below is a new addition to the NYBG train show but chances are it's a familiar building to most New Yorkers. Its familiarity is not because we see the building depicted in movies or postcards, but sadly because it was a beautiful building that the city foolishly demolished.


As you can see from the hand in the left of the photo, the model is massive. It's beautiful, too, though one has to look at some of the stunning black and white photos of the original structure to realize how lovely the building really was.



The model makers, as you can see, were very detailed. Though that man is evidently very, very tall.



Note the acorn cap on the column!

Idesia & Yankee Stadium

More photos of the Holiday Train Show at NYBG today, but first, Idesia polycarpa or the Igiri tree.


I had never heard of Igiri tree before, but I was stopped in my tracks when I saw its elegant shape and the lovely chandeliers of red berries, contrasting so beautifully against the blue sky and green pines.


Idesia is a dioecious tree which means the male and female flowers exist on separate trees (remember dioecious is Greek for 'two houses'). This accounts for the reason you rarely see this tree (which also has yellow fragrant flowers in June) outside of a park setting -- you simply need too much room for the male and female(s) needed to make an impact.



Polycarpa of course means 'multiple fruit' which is a bit of an understatement in this case. . Idesia derives from Eberhad Isbarnd Ides, a 17th century explorer employed by the Russian Czar Peter the Great.

Back to the train show, below we have the old Yankee Stadium -- the model is based on the stadium before the 1976 renovations:


I particularly liked the red leaves used as flags.

Christmas Rose & the Guggenheim

Recently the New York Botanical Garden invited me (or more accurately, they invited New York Plants & Other Stuff) to a sneak peak of their holiday train show.

If you haven't been, definitely check it out. I had been once before in 2003, but forgot how much fun it is to see these models of New York City sights made out of plant material. Paul Busse, a landscape architect and principal of his firm Applied Imagination, fashions hundreds of buildings, using only bark, seeds, petals and leaves, etc.. He even uses lichens. To wit, one of my favorites had to be the Guggenheim:


Of course, I also had to walk around the grounds and check out what was happening in the garden. Helleborus niger or Christmas rose or black hellebore, immediately caught my eye. Like Lenten rose, Christmas rose is named such due to the season in which it blooms. The common name black hellebore is applied becuase the rhizome (a long, flat tuber or bulb-like
structure) is black.


The flower structure you see above is a bit unusual. The white parts that look like petals are sepals. The larger, stringy yellow parts that look like stamens are actually nectaries, petals that have been modified to hold nectar. Pollinators are usually bees and flies.


Hellebores have a rich history of medicinal use. The plant's roots contain two chemicals, helleborein - which can be considered a cardiac poison, and helleborin, a narcotic posion. Highly toxic, the plant can be used as an emmenagogue, cathartic, diuretic or cardiac stimulant in low doses. Higher concentrations of Helleborus niger can cause death allegedly by relentless spasms and exhaustion. Wow, right? Apparently in ye olden times the plant was used to treat such outdated afflictions as hysteria, insanity and my new favorite word: dropsy, which is sort of like an extreme bloatedness.

Next week I'll be posting more photos of Busse's models along with some new plants.

Lupinus perennis

More perennials from the 91st Street Garden. Today, we have Lupinus perennis, or lupine.
Lupines are easy to identify in a garden, due to the large, palmately compound leaves and the tall spikes of pea-like flowers. Indeed the flower structure is a clue as to which family this plant belongs: Fabaceae, or the pea, or legume family.


Like most plants in the Fabaceae or Leguminosae family, Lupinus can fix its own nitrogen. Most of the nitrogen in the environment is released into the atmosphere as a gas when organic matter dies and decays. Plants generally need to have this nitrogen 'pulled' out of the atmosphere in order to benefit from the element. Legumes are unusual in that they have bacteria on the roots that form nodes. These nodes are able to harvest nitrogen from the air.

(An aside: this is why clover and alfalfa, other legumes, are used in crop rotations. Those nitrogen-rich plants can provide extra fertilizer in the soil when they are tilled over.)


The plants ability to fix nitrogen also accounts for its botanical name. Lupinus is derivative of the word for wolf. The belief was that this plant was stealing nitrogen from the soil, like a hungry, greedy wolf.

The flower itself, like other pea family plants, has two upper 'standards' and two lateral 'wings.' The lower petals form together to make a 'keel.' The overall effect is that the plant looks much like a bonnet, which accounts for another common name for Lupinus: bluebonnet.



This red cultivar above is from the New York Botanical Garden.

Lupines have seeds that are highly poisonous. In fact, there has been a historical problem with cowboys and ranchers seeing their livestock die in massive numbers when the unknowing cows and horses grazed on the native lupines so prevalent in the west.

Foxglove

Below is a shot of foxglove, or Digitalis purpurea, at the NYBG.

Foxglove's an amazing, regal spring biennial. Biennials, unlike the more common perennials and annuals, need two seasons to complete its life cycle (another popular biennial is the common pansy).

If the name Digitalis sounds familiar, you may be thinking of the heart drug digitalis. Digitalis contains cardiac glycoside digitoxin, which is used to treat congestive heart failure -- it essentially makes the heart beat stronger and faster. However, if you have a bad ticker, don't go gnawing on the plant as-is. Foxglove is highly toxic when taken in anything other than the smallest of quantities, or in its basic form.

Digitalis obviously refers to one's digits, presumably because the individual blossoms would fit over one's finger easily enough. This also accounts for the less-common name, witch's bells, as witches wore these blossoms as little finger-gloves (I suspect the poisonous nature of this plant could have something to do with witches using it, too). Finally, it's not a long shot to guess that the common name foxglove refers to the blossoms easily fitting over a fox's paws as well.

Foxglove used to belong in the Scrophulariaceae (snapdragon or figwort) family, but has recently been moved to the Plantaginaceae (plantain) family. Most people with a lawn probably shudder at the word plantain, as Plantago a tenacious lawn weed. Similarly, in areas out west, foxglove is an invasive wildflower.

An aside: The plantain family does not include the tropical banana-like plantain, Musa. Musa, incidentally, is also the genus name for mouse. The fact that these plants share the common name plantain is a great example of how common names can get pretty confusing, pretty fast.

Giant Onion

Giant onion, or Allium giganteum, in the New York Botanical Garden:


If you're a regular reader, you don't need to be told that the large purple globe is actually a sum of many smaller flowers, all of which radiate from the same spot on the top of the stem.

Giant onion, as you can guess, is a bulb and it doesn't look much different from the onion bulbs you'd buy at a grocery store.

I can't get enough of this funky perennial en masse, along this path. It provides such a great contrast to the verdant, spring green of the lawn.

Here it is again, playfully popping out of a boxwood parterre:


Just. love. it. So fun.

Allium is the Latin name for garlic, and indeed, giant onion shares its genus with regular garlic, which is Allium sativum.