Instagram fans have flocked to this coy but colorful flower. (Thanks, Bergdorf's.)
Of all the flowers coloring the scenery of our Orchid Show, one in particular–technically not even an orchid–is drawing gasps and adoration in spades. Known as Medinilla magnifica to science (and the Showy Medinilla, or “Malaysian orchid” to everyone else), its bowing proliferation of pale pink flower clusters has found a home in botanical gardens throughout the world.
And you can have one at home if it suits you.
Contrary to its bold presentation, the Medinilla isn’t quite as rare or exotic as assumptions would suggest. It’s been raised successfully in conservatories from here to Belgium, where the late King Baudouin championed the flower through the latter half of the 20th century. So infatuated was he with this Southeast Asian native that it was placed on the country’s 10,000 franc note. But as a plant endemic to the small island of Luzon in the Philippines, Medinilla’s distribution in the wild has not proven broad enough to escape the consequences of horticultural fascination. It’s said that the demand of collectors has caused a decline in natural populations to such a degree that many believe the plant now exists only within the plant trade.
Much ado about the weather this week. Yesterday was a mid-spring day borrowed straight from early May, sending most of our office staff into ecstatic fits. I’m all but convinced one or two of us were out on the grass, belting out celebratory verses from The Sound of Music. Today it’s a bit cooler, of course. But with the warm sun and a promise of picturesque afternoons for Saturday and Sunday, winter seems all but out the door.
The dogwood is blooming, the crocuses are bright, and the Orchid Show is settling into the groove for its second big weekend. This is the perfect opportunity to hop a subway train to the Bronx and treat yourself to Patrick Blanc’s Vertical Gardens. But even if orchids aren’t your thing (a rare condition, albeit understandable), the schedule is packed with activities to suit.
Ceratostema silvicola (Photo courtesy of Meri Shaffer)
Far south in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, where the sandy flats aren’t struck through with creeks, you’ll find parcels of land dedicated to row upon row of scraggly bush. It’s the antithesis of a tropical landscape; like large-scale agriculture in the midwest, the skies over these tended fields are big and empty, with the occasional conifer contorting itself under and around a telephone wire near the bordering dirt roads. The pine woods sit further off.
In the winter it’s a vacant space save for the blueberry bushes. But these berries have a relative of a more tropical disposition. Perhaps not down in southern Jersey, but here in the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory, certainly.
Last week we were discussing vertical gardens, or “living walls,” a specialty of French botanist Dr. Patrick Blanc. Since we are now in the midst of our spring Orchid Show, today we will explore why orchids are such good candidates for vertical gardening. With somewhere in the area of 70% of all orchids being epiphytic, members of the Orchidaceae family were destined to climb.
Orchids that dangle in the air–sometimes known colloquially as air plants–are classified as epiphytes. Epi- means “on top” and -phyte means “plant”–essentially growing on top of another plant. The relation the epiphyte has with the host is not parasitic (where it is harming the host), nor is it symbiotic/mutualistic (where both parties benefit), but rather commensalistic (where one benefits and the other is neutral). The term commensalism is derived from the Latin meaning “sharing a table.”
Outside, the chill factor is dawdling somewhere around “I can still see my breath.” Step into the Conservatory, however, and you’ll find yourself closer to the equator. The Orchid Show is our little slice of summer in the tropics.
With the opening of the Orchid Show comes Orchid Evenings, an opportunity to wander the climbing walls of orchids in all of their after-dark elegance. Drink in hand, music setting the tone, Saturday nights in March and April become the show’s finest hours. But there’s a secret to our cocktails–it’s right out in the open.
Of all the natural flavors in the world, which two best personify indulgence? Chocolate is invariably the first half of the answer. A few weeks ago we covered the tropical origin of that delectable culinary dilettante in the cacao plant. But what of chocolate’s opposite number–vanilla?
It’s here. The Orchid Show opens today! It’s like a birthday present that’s been sitting in front of you for a month: you know exactly what it is but you can’t actually enjoy it until the big day comes around.
Even as big weekends go, this is a big weekend. The Enid A. Haupt Conservatory has gone through a complete metamorphosis over the past several weeks, with a dedicated team of horticulturists primping and preening a luxurious display thousands of orchids strong. As of tomorrow, Patrick Blanc’s careful designs will finally come to light for our guests to enjoy.
Beginning tomorrow, March 3, the doors of the tenth annual Orchid Show (yes, an entire decade) swing open to reveal the French master’s creations to the world. Everyone in New York should see this! Visit the Garden to find yourself surrounded by the artful flowers of the tropics, a virtual architecture of exotic leaves, petals, and vines swirling in and amongst each other. The diversity of orchids that now floods the space in sprays of color is impressive on its own, but the arrangement is simply breathtaking.
Vertical walls of orchids, mosses, and other plants are going up–straight up–for the annual Orchid Show in the Enid A.Haupt Conservatory. Even after ten years, it’s like no other orchid show we have ever seen. Thousands of plants are being suspended on towering, grid-like structures that surround the walkways. We experienced a whole new way of seeing and appreciating the flowers and colors in a kind of woven hanging tapestry. Surely this show will give new meaning to the term “air plants”–a term often applied to orchids and other epiphytes.