STORY BEHIND THE ART OF MILLY ACHARYA
18th Annual International
American Society of Botanical Artists at The Horticultural Society of New York
Crocosmia
Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’
The August garden tends to look tired and frazzled, like Cinderella after the ball, but one exotic plant that continues to dazzle and bewitch is Crocosmia. With its pleated green leaves, resembling a swirling skirt, its slender stem tipped with brilliant flowers the color of fire and sun, the plant made its way to my studio from my neighbor's garden where I'd been observing it covetously!
Like the crocus, Crosomias take their name from krokos, the Greek for saffron, referring to the color. To this is added osme, meaning pleasant odor, because when the flowers are steeped in water they smell of saffron.
Crocosmias, members of the Iris family, originated in southern Africa, but became immensely popular when introduced to gardens and nurseries in Britain. Here plant breeders developed numerous hybrids and cultivars from four closely related genera. Alan Bloom of Bressingham was the plantsman who gave us 'Lucifer' by crossing C. masoniorum with C. paniculata.
The plant grows from corms which are choosy about location in our colder climes. Once established, pleated leaves fan out, making room before sending forth a slender stem. Minuscule buds resembling grass seed appear at the tip, becoming progressively more colorful. Gradually they open to reveal striations of crimson and chrome within the six petals of trumpet-shaped flowers, tapering in an alternating pattern along the stem. Eventually they turn into pale green tricuspid berries---the start of the seedpods.
The blooms enticed neighborhood hummingbirds to an endless and irresistible nectar-fest. My concern was to convey their alluring hues in all their fiery splendor, without losing any of the brilliance or whimsicality. As the growing season had peaked and there were no further specimens to be had, I felt an urgency to keep pace with the limited samples I had available.
Even though some flowers faded before the work was complete, the foliage still retained its vitality, expressing a tempo and rhythms quite its own. The dry note in the composition juxtaposes growth and decline---partly as a tribute to the changing season and partly to acknowledge the inevitability of death in the brevity of life.