GLADIOLUS
In my experience, men and women differ in their appreciation of gladiolus. Several women of my acquaintance call them “funeral flowers,” and even though mums and roses appear just as often in undertaking establishments, the women scorn only glads. Other female friends dislike the statuesque stalks because they appear “stiff” or “formal”. My friend Gordon, on the other hand, is a talented flower arranger, and loves gladiolus, using them often, especially in big, splashy arrangements. He has a way of finding the dynamism in the flowering stalks, which repay the favor by bringing color and movement to his creations.
Many years ago, I met a retired farmer, who turned a small field into a giant, multi-colored gladiolus bed. When the glads flowered, he gave them away to hospitals, nursing homes and churches. Another gardener of my acquaintance hybridized hundreds of daylilies in his front yard, but saved about a third of his sunny space for an impressive area devoted to gladiolus. He said that the flowers were for his wife. Judging by the fond way that he spoke about his plants, I think this may have been a fairly transparent cover story.
Like dahlias, gladioli were popular in Victorian times and retained the affection of gardeners even after World War II. They seemed to have begun a descent into the shadows of the horticultural fashion scene in the late seventies or early eighties, when people began rediscovering the charms of perennials. Glads languished, still loved by many but no longer à la mode, as fashionable gardeners went through sequential infatuation with ornamental grasses, foliage plants, variegated varieties, purple-leafed plants, miniatures and succulents. The catalogs vendors stocked fewer gladiolus varieties and the plants seemed on their way to obscurity.
Then, several years ago, the wheel of fashion turned and tastemakers rediscovered another formerly unfashionable flower–the dahlia. Suddenly dahlias of all sizes–from the big “dinner plate” specimens to the little border varieties–were on the covers of every garden magazine. Martha Stewart gave them her blessing. If dahlias had been able to talk, they would have gone on “Oprah” and told their comeback story. People who used to find them vulgar and obvious suddenly couldn’t get enough of them, and bragged about that fact in a vulgar and obvious way.
Now that the dahlia renaissance is underway, glads cannot be far behind.
Those who like glads and dahlias do so for many of the same reasons. Both flower in late summer and provide lots of color to the garden at a time when other plants are threatening to give up the ghost. Once established, they are easy to care for and great for cutting. Some may need staking, but that can be taken care of by growing them near taller plants, fences or trellises. If one or two stalks happen to flop over anyway, cut them and display them indoors.
Northern gardeners know that modern hybrid gladiolus, whose ancestors were native to southern Africa, are not hardy in areas with freezing winter temperatures. The corms can be lifted in the fall and stored in a cool dry place, but, as Scott Kunst, owner of Old House Gardens, says, doing so “is not a moral imperative.” Glads are relatively inexpensive, making it just as easy to buy new corms each year.
I think that many gardeners will welcome bold cheerful ornamentals this year as an antidote to the daily diet of bad news from the media. If you want something flashy, try ‘Mexicana’, introduced in 1967. The base color of the petals is yellow-green, accented with bright, orange-red. The individual flowers crowd each other in their exuberance and are heavily ruffled. For something big and red, try ‘Wig’s Sensation’, which is one of those plants that can’t help but catch the eye–even from a distance. ‘Atom’ is a more compact, red-flowered variety that has a silvery-white edge on every petal. The color is bright, but the flowers themselves are smaller and a bit more subtle.
Despite the size of some varieties, glads can be as genteel as any other plant. Stands of a single color, like the white-flowered ‘White Goddess’ or ‘White Friendship’ look elegant and inviting. The same is true of a clump of ‘Blues’, which have blue-purple petals that fade to white at the centers.
Since fragrance is also back in style, I predict a resurgence of interest in Gladiolus callianthus ‘Murielae’, which used to be called Acidanthera. ‘Murielae’ does not look like a conventional gladiolus, with its white, six-petaled flowers sitting atop three-foot tall stalks. The flowers have dark maroon throats and some people have likened their looks to orchids. ‘Lucky Star’, introduced in 1966, is a hybrid with ‘Murielae’ in its background. It has white petals and a similar flower configuration, .but the “star” in each flower’s throat is ringed with yellow.
For more gladiolus, including classic and unusual types, try Old House Gardens, 536 Third St., Ann Arbor, MI 48103, (734) 995-1486; www.oldhousegardens.com. Catalog $2.00. Other varieties can be found at Brent & Becky’s Bulbs, 7900 Daffodil Lane, Gloucester, VA 23061, (877) 661-2852; www.brentandbeckysbulbs.com. Free catalog.