Scott A. Mori is the Nathaniel Lord Britton Curator of Botany at the The New York Botanical Garden. His research interests are the ecology, classification, and conservation of tropical rain forest trees. His most recent book is Tropical Plant Collecting: From the Field to the Internet.
Portrait of C. F. von Martius
Botanist Alex Popovkin was inspired to carry on the tradition of botanical field work–photographing and collecting plants in Brazil–by one magnificent book , Flora Brasiliensis.
Alex Popovkin botanizing in a forest fragment in Bahia, Brazil.
Studying plants in the field is the best way to acquire knowledge about them. Unfortunately, when a specialist does not live where the plants grow, it is difficult to study them in situ. In this modern age, the availability of digital photography and the internet makes it possible for local botanists to collect and photograph plants, then send the data and images to specialists. Although I prefer to see plants in their natural environments, new technology yields information that I could never have collected on my own!
One of my collaborators is Alex Popovkin, a Russian-born editor who works remotely from his small cabin in rural Bahia, Brazil. Alex has been passionate about plants since kindergarten, where he made daily observations of the development of a potted nasturtium planted by his teacher. He also observed the house plants his father cultivated on window sills in their St. Petersburg home. As a high school student in the early ’60s, Alex cared for tropical plants, and among other tasks penciled their Latin names on wooden labels at the Botanic Garden of the University of St. Petersburg as part of his work-study curriculum. His first botany mentor there was Dmitri Zalessky, the garden’s director at the time.
An underground rhizome of bloodroot cut to show the bright red sap.
Both the scientific name, Sanguinaria canadensis, and the common name, bloodroot, of this spring wildflower are descriptive. The generic name Sanguinaria has its roots in the Latin word for blood, and bloodroot describes the root-like rhizome of this plant, which contains a bright red sap. Like other members of the poppy family, Papaveraceae, the sap throughout the plant is colored, which may be seen by breaking a vein in the leaf with your fingernail.
Without aroma, Dutchman’s breeches flowers use contrasting yellow and white colors to attract pollinators, namely early-flying queen bumblebees.
In the early spring wildflower parade, Dutchman’s breeches (Dicentra cucullaria) follow closely on the heels of hepatica, blooming by mid-April. Dutchman’s breeches are one of the true spring ephemerals, plants that complete their entire above-ground life cycle within a period of only a few weeks and then disappear until the following spring. Of course, the underground portions live on, storing the carbohydrates manufactured by the leaves during the brief period before the trees have leafed out and shaded the forest floor. But spring ephemerals are not roadside plants.
To see most of our native ephemerals requires a pleasant walk in the woods. Ephemerals are plants that have evolved to live in the primeval conditions of Eastern North America—a land once covered by forest. They must take advantage of the short period of year when temperatures are warm enough and sunlight sufficient enough on the forest floor for the plant to accomplish three tasks: food production, reproduction, and storage of carbohydrates for the subsequent year’s growth.
As a student in Botany at the University of Wisconsin in the early 1970s, I became aware of Aldo Leopold’s land ethic philosophy. In A Sand County Almanac he wrote:
“This sounds simple: do we not already sing our love for and obligation to the land of the free and the home of the brave? Yes, but just what and whom do we love? Certainly not the soil, which we are sending helter-skelter down river. Certainly not the waters, which we assume have no function except to turn turbines, float barges, and carry off sewage. Certainly not the plants, of which we exterminate whole communities without batting an eye. Certainly not the animals, of which we have already extirpated many of the largest and most beautiful species. A land ethic of course cannot prevent the alteration, management, and use of these ‘resources,’ but it does affirm their right to continued existence, and, at least in spots, their continued existence in a natural state. In short, a land ethic changes the role of Homo sapiens from conqueror of the land-community to plain member and citizen of it. It implies respect for his fellow-members, and also respect for the community as such.”
A view of the megalopolis of Sâo Paulo from the Botanical Garden.
When I was in Brazil to attend a meeting on Amazonian Biodiversity in São Paulo I also had the opportunity to visit one of The New York Botanical Garden‘s sister institutions, the Jardim Botânico de São Paulo. Just like NYBG, the São Paulo garden is a refuge from the traffic, heat, and noise of life within one of the world’s megacities. São Paulo is the eighth largest city in the world with 11 million inhabitants, and the city’s 588 square miles of paved surfaces can make it feel much hotter than the reported temperature. During my visit, temperatures ranged from a pleasant 68º to a high of 90º. In the open areas of the garden it was hot enough to dampen my t-shirt as I headed for a remnant patch of Atlantic coastal forest, but upon entering the forest the temperature dropped significantly and I cooled off. I was then able to begin enjoying the plants surrounding me.
The Garden was established in 1920 under the directorship of Frederico Carlos Hoehne. The area was originally the location of the city’s waterworks and the original gate built in 1894 is preserved on the Garden’s grounds. Today the Garden consists of 85 acres of formal gardens and an arboretum dedicated to growing trees native to São Paulo and Brazil, in addition to the 1,210 acres of remnant forest mentioned above.
From the 4th to the 8th of March I was fortunate to attend a meeting in São Paulo, Brazil, supported by the National Science Foundation (NSF) of the United States and the Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo (FAPESP). The NSF is the most important supporter of pure research in the United States, and FAPESP plays the same role in the State of São Paulo. FAPESP’s importance, however, extends throughout Brazil, and like the NSF its discoveries are applied across the globe. Science progresses best when it receives strong governmental support–but that support often pays dividends well beyond the original investments!
The FAPESP research program serves as a model for state-supported research. However, it also collaborates on an even larger scale with Brazil’s national research organization, known as Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico (CNPq); and the Empresa Brasileira de Pesquisa Agropecuária (EMBRAPA). The FAPESP research program is funded by one percent of the state’s taxes and, of that, only five percent can be employed for administrative costs. São Paulo’s dedication to research has made it the leading Brazilian state in promoting pure and applied research in Brazil, and perhaps in the world!
Our projected travel time back to Punta Arenas from Puerto Williams is 43 hours. But, before we set out, we have one last stop to make. Ernesto has arranged for us a private tour of the Museo Antropológico Martin Gusinde with the museum’s director, another one of his friends, naturally. I toured the museum once about 10 years ago, but no one else on the trip has visited it before. The museum has a two-fold focus, documenting the culture of the Yaghan people and presenting the history of European exploration in the region. It is a well-maintained museum and quite the tourist attraction despite all the exhibits being presented solely in Spanish. The namesake of the museum, Martin Gusinde, was an Austrian priest who lived for extended periods with the Yahgan and documented their social and spiritual life in the early 1930s through photography and ethnography. It is a surprising little museum with well curated and exhaustive exhibits. I am glad to get the refresher course in both of the museum’s foci.
The engines start up again at 6 a.m. and quite soon we arrive at Caleta Piedras on Isla Pictón. We knew ahead of time that today would be an early day of collecting because we need to also get back to Puerto Williams to gather up the specimens we left behind there. What we didn’t know was that there would be a substantial metal dock at this site, and a house flying the Chilean flag, too. The house is empty now, but presumably occupied seasonally.
This morning I am not alone in rising early. Today is our only opportunity to go into the field on Isla Lennox. It is so warm and sunny that it is hard to decide on an appropriate outfit, one that is not too heavy and yet still waterproof when sitting on the ground. The plan is to spread out so as to cover as much of this substantial island as possible, all the while avoiding landmines.
Laura and I decide to work our way along what appears to be a river, but is indicated as an inlet of the sea on our map. The tannic water flowing down into the sea seems to indicate that it is at the very least brackish. It is not rich in moss flora, at least where I am, but I do find a few species of Ulota. Last year one of our traveling companions was Ricardo Garilleti, who is working on this genus in southern South America. Not only is Ricardo a great traveling companion, but he taught me how to be a better collector of this most frequently-encountered genus of epiphytes in this region. Without his knowledge I never would have guessed that different species of Ulota prefer different substrate, especially in terms of Berberis versus Nothofagus.
