CHAPTER VII
ART IN THE PLANT WORLD
“As if the rainbows of the fresh mild spring
Had blossomed where they fell.”
The plants are perfect artists. From the budding of the Rose to the sudden shooting forth of the seeds of the Wistaria, everything they do is in perfect taste. Ugly flowers are decidedly uncommon. Those which human judgment declares to be less lovely than their fellows have their attractive points, if we take the trouble to look for them. If art is a desire for beauty, a searching after perfect harmony, then the plants and flowers are the most artistic creatures in the universe.
Plant colours are particularly interesting. The flowers are master-craftsmen when it comes to the adornment of dainty, delicate petals with pigments which are the distilled essence of a thousand rainbows. No other quality in the natural world gives man a deeper emotional enjoyment. Floral colours speak a whole language of their own of which we can get only faint interpretations.
Cold biologists explain that the beautiful hues and shades of plantdom are largely designed to attract insects and so secure a necessary distribution of pollen. There is no doubt that this is true, but for one to believe that this is the sole function of a flower’s beauty is to reduce the world to a materialistic basis and banish all thoughts of the esthetic, the spiritual and the ideal. The flowers are permitted to adorn themselves in bright raiment at least partly in order to satisfy the universal craving for the delicate and the artistic.
It should not be imagined that the gayest and most brilliantly coloured members of the plant world are always residents of the tropics. The hot countries undoubtedly produce many specimens of startling hue and pattern, but it is often their ostentation and exotic character, rather than their beauty or charm, which attract attention. They are apt to be a bit barbaric and not as numerous as they are reputed to be. For great masses of beautiful flowers, we do not go to Mid-Africa or Cuba, but to the mountain-bound meadows of the Alps, the plains of Australia, or the prairies of America. What is more startlingly beautiful than a field of Yellow Buttercups or Black-eyed Susans which can be seen anywhere in the eastern United States? Where can our eyes feast upon a more wonderful scene than a field of Wild Verbenas and Delphiniums as found in Texas? In the tropics the flower masses are more scattered. Even the far-famed Orchids are only abundant in occasional favoured spots.
The gardens of our large country estates offer floral displays which cannot be rivaled anywhere. Our temperate zone Roses, Peonies, Hollyhocks, Wistaria, Lilacs, Lilies, Tulips, Hyacinths, Gentians, Asters, Anemonies and Poppies are the most delicate colour creations in existence. For brilliance and alluring charm nothing surpasses the Mountain Laurel and Rhododendrons of the East, or the Trumpet Vine and Yellow Jessamine of the South. The gorgeous Azalias, Camellias, Pelargoniums, Calceolarias and Cinerarias also belong to the regions which have cold periods in their annual weather schemes. Even the humble Gorse is clothed in gold, while the prickly and much-despised Cactus bears little crimson-coloured bells.
It is quite evident that man got his original idea of colour from Nature, particularly the plant world. Why is it that we are inclined to wear green in spring, brown in autumn, and all manner of colours in summer? Simply because, consciously or unconsciously, we are imitating Nature. We take pigments and dyes and get a pale similitude of an exquisite flower. If it happens to be a Rose, we name the colour after it. Sometimes we name tints after the sky or an animal or a bird, but in these cases, we might just as well have gone to the flowers for our nomenclature.
Every tint and hue which we can ever hope to reproduce is present in the plant world. The flowers by no means monopolize them. On close examination, a single stalk and leaf exhibit a wonderful variety of colour. In the Begonia and the Sea Holly, the stalks are exactly the same colours as the flowers. The wild Cranesbill sports a crimson stem. The stalks of Poplar leaves are a vivid yellow. To speak of “green leaves” is to speak in the most general of terms. What is more exquisite than the silver gray to be seen on the backs of many tree-leaves, notably the Alders, Willows, and Poplars? Many leaves join the Wild Lettuce in having purple backs. The reverse sides of Magnolias and Rhododendrons are red-brown. In the autumn, nearly all leaves show brilliant patches of colour.
In borrowing Nature’s colours to set forth our ideas, we have become possessors of a mighty vehicle of expression. With yellow, we can speak of life, light, cheer and vitality. Red tells of fire, heat, blood, excitement and passion. Blue indicates coolness, quiet and restraint. In choosing green for its most universal colour, Nature harmonizes life and restraint, warmth and coolness, as represented by the component blue and yellow. In the same way, when she wants to concentrate the maximum colour power in a single fruit or flower, she uses orange, a combination of light and heat, vitality and excitement. Purple represents a neutralized idea. Red vitality is tempered with blue restraint, which results in mysticism. Nature clothes the Poppy in red to suggest power and strength. The royal purple of the Aster and the Violet is purposely calculated to arouse a feeling of mystery and awe.
Our man-made cloth designs often show various plant forms intact in the weave. The same is true of lace, while one has only to look at the miniature flower gardens which women wear on their heads to realize the potent influence of plants in the domains of millinery. An important plant element seems to run through many fields of applied art.
In some ways, the beauties of form and structure are more appealing than chromatic charms. Lines are more refined and fundamental than colours. A feathery mass of tree-twigs seen against a distant horizon is exquisitely beautiful. A symmetrically shaped tree comes very close to presenting an idea of pure form. One may argue that it is impossible to dissociate all idea of colour from a natural object. This is theoretically true, but practically, while we are impressed by the colour of the Rose, it is the structural beauty of the Palm and Weeping Willow which attracts our eye.
Nature is the true and original sculptor. From her we learn our rules of symmetry and design. All her plant creations are finished with a faithfulness to artistic principles which is quite exact. Nor does she build houses with false exteriors. Her structures show forth the necessity of truth in real esthetic creation. Bartholdi’s exquisite Statue of Liberty, viewed from the interior, is an ugly, hollow tube. A stalk of corn not only has a pleasing exterior but is made up of symmetrically formed and packed interior cells. From a giant Redwood to a microscopic vegetable organism, every line and structural unit in the plant world is perfect in its inception and execution.
Each plant, viewed as a whole, has its own peculiar style of structural beauty—the variation of line and form which stamps it with charm. This differentiation extends to all parts of the plant and gives character to leaves, stem, flowers and fruit. Marvellous is the art worked out in the minute parts. The tendril of the Passion Flower, the radicle of a Seedling Maple, the feathery hair on a stalk of Mullein—all these are shaped according to the unknown law of beauty. Probably every geometrical form exists in some seed pod or fruit. The artistic little seeds of the Milkweed and the Dandelion are packed into their containers with a skill which cannot be duplicated, once they are dislodged. There are a million seeds in the capsules of certain Orchids. Many seed vessels are tipped, balled, carved and frescoed.
The same delicate touch is seen down to the last cell. Plant stems range from the common tubular variety to four-sided, hexagonal and octagonal forms. Trees exhibit exquisite mosaics in their rough bark. Bell-shaped flowers and flowers which are tubes, rings, ovals, trumpets, horns, and cones are only some of the pleasing shapes to be found in this part of vegetable anatomy.
It is a significant thing that there are few straight lines in plantdom. Everything is built in fascinating and alluring curves. There is a definite idea of symmetry to be observed everywhere. The beautiful, five-pointed, leaves of the Sweet Gum Tree are arranged so that each one fits into an interstice between two others and so obtains a maximum supply of air and light. In general, leaves nearest the ground are largest, thus insuring each its supply of sunshine.
When we study ornamental design, ancient and modern, we see plant forms on all hands. The Greeks and the Moors were the only nations to be content with geometric shapes and lines—and they were only content at times. All other peoples have given plants and flowers a large place in their decorative conceptions. The Egyptians and the Assyrians, who may be considered the first civilized artists, used the Palm, Papyrus, Lotus and Lily. The Greeks and Romans were partial to the Acanthus, Olive, Ivy, Vine, Fir and Oak. The Gothic art of Germany, France and Spain featured the Lily, Rose, Pomegranate, Oak, Maple, Iris, Buttercup, Passion Flower and Trefoil. The modern Chinese are more conservative and seek inspiration only from the Aster and the Peony. The Japanese use the Almond, Cherry, Wistaria and the graceful Bamboo in their art work. These various plant forms are sometimes quite conventionalized but are readily recognizable, whether they occur in architecture, carvings, paintings, illuminations, tapestries or cloth fabrics.
The plant world has been man’s most constant and readily apprehended artistic model. Yet when we see the multitude of attractive lines, curves and shapes in Nature’s great garden, we wonder that he has so limited his imitation. One rarely sees the Thorn-Apple, the Hawthorn, the Daisy or the Tulip in wood or stone, yet they are all exquisitely beautiful.
Again, artists and artisans throughout the centuries have nearly always confined themselves to but two phases of plant life—the leaves and the matured fruit. Tendrils have been neglected or treated with characterless mediocrity. Thorns, leaf stipules, buds, pods, and leaf scars have been universally overlooked. Who has ever seen the fruit of the Rose in ornamental art? Why is it no one has thought to use the leaf scars of trees like the Horse Chestnut as decorative units?
Grapes and Pomegranates are reproduced with some justice, but the various small berries almost always appear as miscellaneous spherical bodies, whereas they are really greatly varied. The Snowberry, Privet, Laurel and Barberry have distinct characteristics of form and shape.
There are chances for worlds of artistic expression in various seed pods and fruit vessels. An open Pea Pod occurs in certain Renaissance ornament. Why not (and this is not intended to be humorous) a String Bean?
Even a lowly thing like the scarred stalk of an old Cabbage has a pattern worthy of imitation. The shields or remains of leaves of former seasons form an artistic detail of the growing Palm Tree. The Romans occasionally reproduced them on their columns. Leaf shields are also met with in Greek border ornament.
Why must our sculptors represent the various fruits as bursting with mature mellowness? In many cases, the unripe fruit is artistically more attractive than when in the later stages of development.
We rarely think of disease or decay as being pleasing, yet some plants are artistic even in their dissolution. Certain galls and cankers draw beautiful designs on the bodies of their victims.
Everything in plantdom has its own peculiar style of structure and beauty. All are worthy of imitation and reproduction, provided only it is done in the right place and the right way. It must be remembered that, in origin, ornament was first symbolic and then decorative. Real ornament is never unduly prominent but subordinates itself to the idea and structure of the whole.
Man has imitated the plants also in things of a lowlier nature. Cups, vases, pitchers and other utensils were undoubtedly first suggested by similar shapes in plantdom. It is not too fantastic to imagine that the smoking pipe is modelled after the flower known as the Dutchman’s Pipe. An electric wire running down the chain of a suspended lighting fixture looks all the world like a climbing vine. Human jewelry has its prototype among the flowers. Our garden beauties powdered their faces long before their human sisters ever thought of that method of self-adornment. It is said that Greek dancers and athletes sometimes exercised before certain slender plants in order to pattern their bodies after them.
We are not all artists or interior decorators, and yet we can all make use of the artistic possibilities present and inherent in our plant friends. We can cultivate and further the use of plants and flowers in and about our homes. Europe is far ahead of us in this respect. In England, a city house may be ever so frowsy and run-down but it will be sure to have its well-kept window boxes. The suburban homes of labourers and other lowly folk are often veritable bowers of loveliness. The German must have a garden in which to drink his beer. If there is none handy, he builds one, and cool and delightful he makes it. In many European cities, all the houses come out to the building line and even arch the sidewalks. Not a bit of greensward is in sight. Yet shrubs, flowers and vines spring from every sill and balcony and so make the streets to blossom as the Rose.
American cities are too inclined to be barren wastes of brick and stone, with but scant provision for plant beauty. Even the rich, who have their elaborate and beautiful country gardens, seem to forget the plants and flowers when they come to the city. The self-tending Ampelopsis and Wistaria vines are the only plants at all common. Our short summer season and the fact that so many people do not occupy their city homes in warm weather are a little discouraging, but need not shake the enthusiasm of any one really interested in plants. For a few dollars a season florists will assume all care of exterior plants and vines.
The man who has a little plot of ground before his door is indeed fortunate. Even a well-clipped grass lawn is a refreshing asset. Sweet Peas train well against a wall. Pansies flourish in shady spots and Nasturtiums wax beautiful where other plants fail.
A brown stone front, flushed to the sidewalk in the middle of a block, need not go without floral decoration. Even a terra cotta box on either side of the entrance is capable of holding much growing joy. Evergreen shrubs fit well into such surroundings. A window box has great possibilities. In early spring, Crocus, Narcissus and Hyacinth flourish in it to advantage. Ivy-Geraniums of smooth waxy leaves and graceful loose sprays will grow all summer. Vines of various kinds can be trained so as to make very effective window screens.
The subject of home plants is fascinating. It is well to note that it is not always necessary to go in for the more elaborate varieties. It is surprising what a delicate and pleasing decoration is made by so humble a thing as a sprouting Carrot or a Sweet Potato Vine.
Outdoor and landscape gardening are whole sciences unto themselves. In general, a Renaissance house looks best surrounded by formal and well-clipt flower beds. Houses on the Gothic order should have undulating lawns and irregular groups of shrubs and trees about them.
Plants and flowers are the first and original artists. Their creations are our best and most worthy models. We can use them both as examples to be imitated and beautiful objects with which to surround ourselves. They are one of our greatest esthetic inspirations.