Kiku

KIKU
 

            In September and October chrysanthemums dot the suburban landscape, and no house, apartment or condo is without at least one pot of mums somewhere on the premises.  Gardeners also plug them into the borders to replace the washed-up summer annuals.  Generally treated as annuals, millions of mums sacrifice their lives each year so that we can have color until frost. 

            As a nation we love the chrysanthemum, but with the exception of small numbers of enthusiasts and breeders, we don’t revere them.  The Japanese and Chinese do, however, and have celebrated the flowers in art, poetry and legend for centuries.

            Last week I went to see “Kiku: The Art of the Japanese Chrysanthemum,” an exhibit at the New York Botanical Garden.  “Kiku” means “chrysanthemum” in Japanese and the exhibit is a celebration of all things Japanese, with an emphasis on artistry.  Begun last year, the “Kiku” show is one of the Garden’s annual blockbuster exhibits and ranks with the holiday train show and the February orchid show as one of the biggest attractions on the NYBG’s annual calendar.  This year’s show runs through November 16, 2008.

            Unlike the orchid and holiday train shows, “Kiku” is primarily an outdoor exhibit, staged in the beautiful courtyards enclosed by the amazing Haupt Conservatory.  The courtyards’ pools are still filled at this time of year, and the occasional blooming water lily or lotus serves as a counterpoint to the array of beautifully displayed and intricately trained chrysanthemums.

            Though the chrysanthemum originated in China, it was introduced in Japan in the seventh century and the Japanese gradually took it to their hearts.  A sixteen-petaled chrysanthemum is the crest of the Imperial family and the mum is the country’s national flower.  Over the centuries the cultivation of chrysanthemums has evolved into a complex art, encompassing highly refined methods of cultivation and display.  The “Kiku” show highlights several varieties of the showy plant, meticulously cultivated and trained for specific artistic impressions.  All of the featured specimens were showcased in uwaya, three-sided temporary shelters constructed of bamboo and cedar.  Fabric drapes, held in place by intricately knotted cords, decorated the top front of each uwaya.  The uwaya reminded me a bit of the much smaller “auricular theaters” that English auricula primrose enthusiasts construct to shelter and showcase their cosseted spring-blooming plants.

            Of the four styles on display, the “ozukuri” or thousand bloom style, is probably the most accessible to westerners.  Over a span of many months a single plant is pinched and trained to produce hundreds of blossoms at the same time.  The blossoms form a mound or dome shape that is an extremely refined version of the shape of the cushion mums so often featured in American garden centers.  Of course, regular North American cushion mums do not receive anywhere near the level of care and attention as ozukuri plants, but they are also systematically pinched back in greenhouses to produce a uniform, mounded display.

            If you like great big chrysanthemums, you will love those trained in the ogiku style.  These are large-flowered varieties, with white, yellow or pink flowerheads about six inches across.  In contrast to the “thousand bloom” types, ogiku are plants are systematically disbudded so that each produces only one perfect flowerhead at the top of a tall stalk.  The potted plants are then arranged in diagonal rows, decreasing in height from back to front.

            The kengai-style chrysanthemums reminded me a bit of topiary, as they are trained on special frames to produce a dramatic cascade effect.  Because the overall shape of the display is the most important consideration, kengai uses small-flowered varieties.

            Shino-tsukuri or “driving rain” style plants are clipped and trained to produce twenty-seven blooming stems apiece, each topped by a single flower..  The flowers feature petals that start out flat and then curl into quill shapes as they age.  This process makes each flowerhead look a bit storm-tossed, hence the “driving rain” description.

            The Kiku show also incorporates bonsai and garden plants of Japanese origin, all of which are interspersed between the uwaya.  I especially liked the Japanese pained fern, fall-blooming Anemone japonica, Tricyrtis hirta or toad lily and the beautiful, purple-berried callicarpa shrubs.  The bonsai were absolutely amazing, featuring some plants that had been trained and tended for decades.  There are many styles of bonsai, but I was particularly taken with the “forest” style, where one miniaturized specimen is systematically trained so that its growth resembles that of a stand of forest trees.

            So much of traditional Japanese horticulture requires discipline, patience, planning and attention to detail.  If you take the time to let the “Kiku” displays sink into your consciousness, you come away feeling very peaceful.  Given the current disordered state of the world and the economy, that is not such a bad thing.

            The Kiku show runs through November 16, 2008.  The New York Botanical Garden is located at Bronx River Parkway (Exit 7W) and Fordham Road.  For further information call the NYBG at (718) 817-8700 or go to www.nybg.org.