Of Orchids and Art

Have just been alerted to the rather lovely sounding RHS Orchid Show on 20-21st March. A selection of the 22,500 species available will be on display alongside the RHS's biggest ever botanical art show.

In 1897 the RHS commissioned Nellie Roberts to paint a portrait of every award-winning orchid (her Brassocattleya is above), a tradition that has continued up to the present day with current artist, Deborah Lambkin. Usually tucked up in the Lindley Library, it should be an interesting look at the evolution of orchids in art since the Victorian era. (And at just a tenner the preview evening is a cheap mother’s day present!).

Botanical art is an interesting one, some love it, others hate it. For me it is either awe-inspiring or slightly pointless, depending how good it is. When I worked in publisher sales shortly after graduating, some buyers were rather nervous of buying prints by American botanical artist Georgia O’Keeffe. “Rather biological” they explained, embarrassedly; “A bit graphic”. Botanical pornography, to you and me.

In some ways, that is the point, although in other ways not. A flower is a reproductive body so it is bound to be just a tad biological and, coincidentally, ‘orchis’ is the Greek word for testicle – in the case of the plant, referring to the shape of the tubers of a specific genus of the orchid family. You probably knew this already. But plants and people is different. While we lack roots and petals, plants lack, well, human attributes - although they can be jolly good insect mimics. So although O'Keeffe could be said to have milked it, these concerns are largely in the fevered imaginations of art buyers from the midlands.

In his Herbal, Culpepper had this to say about orchids:
"The roots are to be used with discretion... They are hot and moist in operation, under the dominance of Venus, and provoke lust exceedingly which the dried and withered roots do restrain". (with thanks to the North of England Orchid Soc website) Quite. Restraint. That is what we need.

Anyway, botanical art. I found Georgia O’Keeffe quite intriguing - a different way of looking at plants - and my interest was reawakened by meeting the inspiring Gwladys Tonge last year, (pictured left with her lovely fern paintings). The Shirley Sherwood Gallery at Kew is worth visiting too. Botanical artists exhibit the sort of attention to detail that it is impossible for we mere mortals to wot of. Painting with a magnifying glass to capture each leaf hair and fern sorus to perfection, creating abstracts of reality. When it is good it is very, very good (and when it is bad it is horrid?). I think we can expect the very good from the Orchid Show, though.

Gwladys opens her small but plant-tastic garden for the NGS – go if you can. On the subject of which, congratulations to my friend Heather Skinner, Berkshire County Organiser who has just been made an NGS Trustee. She is a fine lady and they are lucky to have her!

Not listening to anything at the moment. Too busy writing.

Metamorphosis

Writing a book is often likened to having a baby. And with some justification. There is the giddy conception and whirlwind of excitement, then the warm glow of a contract signed. It then the process starts to lag and become heavier; sweetmeats are deployed to maintain performance – pregnancy, like literature, is an endurance sport. My new book, Published by Green Books, 22nd September 2016 Finally, fat and fecund with promise the manuscript is delivered to the publisher, for supervision and medical intervention if necessary. And, finally, the screaming and anguish suddenly stops. The Author's desk (the buns have already been eaten) And here is where the process differs. After months of to-ing and fro-ing, deliberations about nuanced argument and tone of voice, followed by concerns about stacking words in a column and balanced captions, it is confiscated. They just take it away. To put it another way, it is like watching caterpillars. They eat and eat and eat and ...

On The Road

Galanthus 'Fly Fishing' at Bellefield House . My latest snowdrop crush. Back in the dim and distant mists of time, when dinosaurs roamed the land and pterodactyls were frequent bird table visitors, I spent an enjoyable few years managing rock bands. There were headline gigs, support gigs. Mainstream venues and pubs. In some places the PA was state of the art, in others you thanked your stars for the decent size amp in the back of the van. Some nights the crowd was ecstatic. Others, the bar man, his dog and a couple of regulars would sit there, nodding and comparing the band to musicians that had died before the lead singer was born. Occasionally people listened to the first thirty seconds, got bored and went off to get drunk and find someone to sleep with. So it goes. I have just finished a modestly epic tour of the land, promoting The Plant Lover’s Guide to Snowdrops . And, as I pull myself vertical, brush off the debris and straighten out again, there are som...

The Essential Apocalypse Skillset

Let me tell you a story. Several years ago, I was painting the bathroom of a house in Bristol. The window was open and it was a pleasant sort of day and people were wandering past. Around about four o’clock I heard a couple of sets of feet come down the hill and then stop. “Look, cherries!” said one voice (female, mid to late teens). “No, I don’t think they are. They can’t be.” Said the other, doubtfully (ditto). “Well, they look like cherries. Let’s try them!” “No, they are probably berries. Completely different. Some of them are not red, they are blackish. They are probably poisonous.” “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.” (disappointed) The feet moved on. I looked out of the bathroom window at the large and heavily laden cherry tree leaning over the wall of the garden opposite and wondered what the world was coming to. Red Sky in the Morning, Shepherds Warning ((c) N Slade) I am actually still wondering. When my grandfather was a child, he and his brothers (and a dog) ...

James A-S15 March 2010 at 02:32
I rather wish I could draw well enough to do justice to plants.
Mind you I also sometimes wish I could do many, many things..
For example play snooker well enough not to be consistently humiliated by my 14 year old son. Make cupcakes. Fly with wings of eagles etc etc.
At Malvern this year I get the opportunity to give it a go although we (Joe Swift, Cleve west and I) are trying it Rolf Harris style with 3" brushes. Could be interesting but it is more likely to be embarrassing.

Electric Green

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