Italian writer Andrea di Robilant has long been a man in search of the past. He mined a rich vein of family history in Lucia: A Venetian Life in the Age of Napoleon, the 2008 biography of his ancestor Lucia Mocenigo, a late eighteenth and early nineteenth century Venetian aristocrat and friend of the French Empress Josephine. Lucia and Josephine, plus a cast of other colorful characters, past and present, figure in di Robilant’s new book, Chasing the Rose: An Adventure in the Venetian Countryside. The book is full of rose lore perfumed with a bit of mystery. The combination adds up to a charming read for rose and garden-lovers.
While rummaging through Lucia’s roots, di Robilant also discovered a unique rose, described as having a “peach and raspberry” fragrance and petals that were light pink in the middle shading to darker pink on the edges. This fruit-scented bloomer, an exceptionally hardy and free blooming variety, was thriving on the overgrown grounds of Alvisopoli, the former di Robilant family estate north of Venice. The writer was smitten, obtained a rooted cutting for his own garden and began the Venetian adventure that he hoped would lead him to the origin of the rose that locals called ‘Rosa Moceniga’.
Di Robilant knew that the original ‘Rosa Moceniga’ had been planted by Lucia and suspected that it might have come from Josephine’s fabled garden at Malmaison. The two women, both keen horticulture enthusiasts, became close during the Napoleonic era, when Lucia’s husband represented the Kingdom of Venice as ambassador to the French court. Josephine spared no trouble or expense to obtain plant material, including “old” roses arriving from China and India. These were installed in the Malmaison gardens. The former Empress’ passion for roses inspired others, including Lucia, who studied horticulture at the Jardin des Plantes botanical garden in Paris. In time she became a knowledgeable plantswoman and even learned the art of grafting. After the fall of Napoleon, Lucia returned to Alvisopoli with a large plant collection. Di Robilant speculates that it might have included the mysterious rose.
Hot on the rose’s trail, di Robilant meets a local architect and landscaper who once worked at Alvisopoli and suspected the mystery rose of Chinese origins. The architect’s attempts to identify the rose and trace its origins and identity proved inconclusive, but did rule out some possibilities. The rose path also led di Robilant to one of the heroines of Chasing the Rose, Eleonora Garlant, “la signora delle rose” or “lady of the roses”. Eleonora, always aided and abetted by her long-suffering husband, Valentino, is an old rose expert with an encyclopedic knowledge base and a phenomenal collection of old roses and naturally-occurring old rose hybrids. Fascinated by ‘Rosa Moceniga’, Eleonora in turn consulted a renowned French expert with the wonderful name of Francois Joyaux, who ruled out another possible identity. Both Signora Garlant and M. Joyaux ended up with specimens of ‘Rosa Moceniga’ in their plant collections.
While searching for ‘Rosa Moceniga’s origins, di Robilant tells the story of the waxing and waning of the popularity of old roses, generally characterized as those introduced before the first hybrid tea came along in 1868. The strong supporting cast includes people like Edward Bunyard, who saved many old roses from extinction in the first third of the twentieth century, and Graham Stuart Thomas, who led the old rose revival in that century’s second half. In describing the various old rose collectors, di Robilant also explores the nature of the passion for collecting and the fates of great rose collections when the collectors have gone.
Never far from center stage in di Robilant’s narrative are ancient Chinese roses, both species and hybrids, among which, the author believes dwells the ancestor of ‘Rosa Moceniga’. He learns a great deal about these long-cultivated beauties and visits an extraordinary garden in Umbria devoted to them. Though he lets the rose experts speak for themselves, the author’s prose invests the narrative with the romance and allure of roses.
It would be unfair to reveal the book’s ending, but suffice it to say that di Robilant revels in his newfound rose knowledge and adds to his already substantial admiration for his great-great-great-great grandmother, Lucia. If Chasing the Rose proves anything, it is that roses—especially the old ones—exert an ongoing hold on human beings.
While rummaging through Lucia’s roots, di Robilant also discovered a unique rose, described as having a “peach and raspberry” fragrance and petals that were light pink in the middle shading to darker pink on the edges. This fruit-scented bloomer, an exceptionally hardy and free blooming variety, was thriving on the overgrown grounds of Alvisopoli, the former di Robilant family estate north of Venice. The writer was smitten, obtained a rooted cutting for his own garden and began the Venetian adventure that he hoped would lead him to the origin of the rose that locals called ‘Rosa Moceniga’.
Di Robilant knew that the original ‘Rosa Moceniga’ had been planted by Lucia and suspected that it might have come from Josephine’s fabled garden at Malmaison. The two women, both keen horticulture enthusiasts, became close during the Napoleonic era, when Lucia’s husband represented the Kingdom of Venice as ambassador to the French court. Josephine spared no trouble or expense to obtain plant material, including “old” roses arriving from China and India. These were installed in the Malmaison gardens. The former Empress’ passion for roses inspired others, including Lucia, who studied horticulture at the Jardin des Plantes botanical garden in Paris. In time she became a knowledgeable plantswoman and even learned the art of grafting. After the fall of Napoleon, Lucia returned to Alvisopoli with a large plant collection. Di Robilant speculates that it might have included the mysterious rose.
Hot on the rose’s trail, di Robilant meets a local architect and landscaper who once worked at Alvisopoli and suspected the mystery rose of Chinese origins. The architect’s attempts to identify the rose and trace its origins and identity proved inconclusive, but did rule out some possibilities. The rose path also led di Robilant to one of the heroines of Chasing the Rose, Eleonora Garlant, “la signora delle rose” or “lady of the roses”. Eleonora, always aided and abetted by her long-suffering husband, Valentino, is an old rose expert with an encyclopedic knowledge base and a phenomenal collection of old roses and naturally-occurring old rose hybrids. Fascinated by ‘Rosa Moceniga’, Eleonora in turn consulted a renowned French expert with the wonderful name of Francois Joyaux, who ruled out another possible identity. Both Signora Garlant and M. Joyaux ended up with specimens of ‘Rosa Moceniga’ in their plant collections.
While searching for ‘Rosa Moceniga’s origins, di Robilant tells the story of the waxing and waning of the popularity of old roses, generally characterized as those introduced before the first hybrid tea came along in 1868. The strong supporting cast includes people like Edward Bunyard, who saved many old roses from extinction in the first third of the twentieth century, and Graham Stuart Thomas, who led the old rose revival in that century’s second half. In describing the various old rose collectors, di Robilant also explores the nature of the passion for collecting and the fates of great rose collections when the collectors have gone.
Never far from center stage in di Robilant’s narrative are ancient Chinese roses, both species and hybrids, among which, the author believes dwells the ancestor of ‘Rosa Moceniga’. He learns a great deal about these long-cultivated beauties and visits an extraordinary garden in Umbria devoted to them. Though he lets the rose experts speak for themselves, the author’s prose invests the narrative with the romance and allure of roses.
It would be unfair to reveal the book’s ending, but suffice it to say that di Robilant revels in his newfound rose knowledge and adds to his already substantial admiration for his great-great-great-great grandmother, Lucia. If Chasing the Rose proves anything, it is that roses—especially the old ones—exert an ongoing hold on human beings.
David Ginsburg <dginsburg109@comcast.net>
Mon 10/12/2015 9:31 AM
To:
Elisabeth Ginsburg;