"Pay attention to the world." -- Susan Sontag
 

Yellow and White Irises: Reverse Amoena Patterns (1 of 2)

From โ€œYellows from Tangerine Pinksโ€ in The World of Irisesย by The American Iris Society, edited by Bee Warburton and Melba Hamblen:

“During the 1930s hybridizers, concentrating on eliminating lavender from the so-called pinks of that era, created pastel beauty in tones of orchid, amethyst and lilac; but true pink was tantalizingly elusive. When it appeared through the tangerine pinks, another mystery was added to irisology, for no one has established beyond doubt when or how the tangerine character evolved. The mystery is further compounded by its almost simultaneous appearance in widely separated areas of this country with one report of its appearance in England. But this is a problem for geneticists and cytologists; we can only trace its development from the first recorded variety to the present-day wonders, which eclipse the most extravagant dreams of the pioneer pink breeders….

“By-products were an unexpected bonus from tangerine bearded breeding. Yellows appeared among the progeny of initial crosses for pinks, and hybridizers were amazed and pleased with their quality. These yellows had a sheen and brilliance and a degree of laciness rarely found in conventional yellows.

[Tell] Muhlestein’s Queen’s Lace, a creamy white deepening to yellow in the center and at the petal edges, is the most lavishly laced iris of 1950 vintage. Its pedigree includes Chantilly twice, Hall’s 42-10 and Gold Ruffles.

“In 1952 [David F.] Hall introduced the first Award of Merit yellows from pink lines: Limelight, a self in canary to greenish yellow with yellow beards; and Temple Bells (from seedlings), a sensation in deep yellow flushed apricot, flaunting bushy, tangerine-red beards. Temple Bells was followed by a sister seedling, Top Flight, with a richer infusion of apricot and brighter beards. Techny Chimes from Bro. Charles Reckamp was the first clear yellow self with tangerine-orange beards.

“Hall’s Golden Garland, from a seedling crossed with Palomino pollen, was the first introduction from tangerine breeding with yellow standards and white falls bordered yellow, a color pattern that has always been popular….”

From “The Moment” in The Collected Poems of Kathleen Raine by Kathleen Raine:

…The sun that rises
Upon one earth
Sets on another.
Swiftly the flowers
Are waxing and waning,
The tall yellow iris
Unfolds its corolla
As primroses wither,
Scrolls of fern
Unroll and midges
Dance for an hour
In the evening air,
The brown moth
From its pupa emerges
And the lark’s bones
Fall apart in the grass.

The sun that rose
From the sea this morning
Will never return,
For the broadcast light
That brightens the leaves
And glances on water
Will travel tonight
On its long journey
Out of the universe,
Never this sun,
This world, and never
Again this watcher.


Hello!

This is the first of two posts with photographs of irises with yellow standards and white falls that I took at Oakland Cemetery earlier this year. They’re among the tallest of the tall bearded irises I find at Oakland; yet even at their impressive three- to four-foot height, they still manage to produce multiple large flowers layered near the tops of very thick stems that never seem to bend even after days of windy spring and summer thunderstorms.

About half of the irises below appear in one of the older sections of Oakland, where the original Victorian garden design philosophy is evident in the blending of sloping landscapes, structures of mixed sizes and shapes dating back to the late nineteenth century, and plantings within memorial structures called grave curbs that echo contained raised gardens built outside of a memorial context. These tall bearded irises are especially suitable for this purpose, as they’ll expand to fill concrete-bordered spaces and tower over them to draw the observer’s attention to the memorial structures. There’s a visual randomness to a scene like this that’s quite different from the more precisely orchestrated landscape design I wrote about in two previous posts, shown in the second and third images below (from Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (3 of 3) and Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (1 of 3)). The three images together illustrate the historical evolution in memorial garden design through the twentieth century that emphasized symmetry while still retaining the same intermixing of natural and constructed elements.

When we zoom in on the flowers produced by these irises, we get to see and introduce a specific color pattern — a variation on the term “amoena.” Recall that the amoena classification describes an iris with white standards and purple or other single-colored falls. These irises reveal the opposite color arrangement with colorful standards and white falls, for which Clarence Mahan’s book Classic Irises and the Men and Women Who Created Them gives us a precise definition: “A name applied originally to a natural hybrid or variant of Iris variegata. Now a flower color pattern in which the standards are white and the falls are violet, yellow, pink or some other color. When the standards are colored and falls white, the pattern is called “‘reverse amoena.'”

The condensed excerpt up-top from โ€œYellows from Tangerine Pinksโ€ in the book The World of Irisesย races through the decades between the 1930s and the 1950s to explain how the development of yellow irises with colors like these stemmed from efforts to improve tangerine-colored irises specifically, “tangerine” having been used to describe various orange tones present in many irises used for breeding.

These efforts have their own distinctive thread in the history of iris genetics, detailed in a reproduction (supplemented with images) of the entire chapter I excerpted in the American Iris Society’s article Development of Tangerine Bearded Tall-Bearded Irises. Scroll down on that page to the section “Tangerine breeding with yellow standards and white falls bordered yellow,” where you’ll encounter photos of three irises next to each other that closely match Oakland’s yellow and white reverse amoenas: Golden Garland (produced in 1957), and Debby Rairdon and May Melody (both produced in 1965). Debby Rairdon, in particular, is a nearly identical visual match to the irises I photographed. That (and my photographs) illustrates how these variants can produce pronounced waves or ruffling in the standards; richly saturated orange beards; distinctive and precise raised-texture veining near the throat of each falls petal; clear boundaries between the yellow and white colors; and a yellow rim surrounding the edges of many petals.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!















Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (3 of 3)

From “Irises, Gladioli, and Shellflowers” in Garden Bulbs for the South by Scott Ogden:

“The good foliage, large flowers, and noble deportment of Iris pallida may be seen in many of its descendants. This species and I. variegata, a central European species with yellow standards and brown-stippled falls, are believed to have been the principal forerunners of garden irises. The early crosses between them developed mixed purplish or bicolored blooms. In the Victorian catalogs of English nurseryman Peter Barr, these were listed in various ‘species’ classes based on the patterns of their flowers. Lavender to violet blooms, such as the old variety ‘Princess Beatrice‘, were grouped with the pallidas, while yellows and maroons fell among the variegatas. Iris amoena, a strain with white standards and purple falls, was nicknamed the agreeable iris for its pleasant mix of colors. The plicatas bore white blooms frilled with edgings of lavender or purple, as did the elderberry-scented I. sambucina….

“So many hybrids have been made among these old sections that it is impossible now to find one’s way with these antique names. In humble country gardens, one still sees irises that look no different from those painted by Redoute, as they grew for the Empress Josephine at Malmaison….

“‘Madame Chereau‘, a nineteenth-century plicata, may still be seen in the South. An assiduous search through April gardens and countrysides will reassemble several of these old varieties, as well as many more recent hybrids of value.

“During the first half of the twentieth century, intermediate strains of irises received serious attention from breeders for the first time. Several irises from this period are now common denizens of Southern gardens.”

From “Breaking the Lights: Diary Poem”‘ in Memoir: Poems 2007-2016 by Neville Keery:

Pleasures to be taken
In 24 hours of retired domesticity:
Get up to open the downstairs curtains
And lift the blinds before making breakfast.

Eight violet iris heads are ready
To unfurl in the front garden….


Hello!

This is the third of three posts with photos of irises with white standards and colored falls from Oakland Cemetery that I photographed earlier this year. The first post is Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (1 of 3), and the second post is Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (2 of 3).

The photos in this last post show irises with a typical plicata pattern: the petals of the falls are lightly colored or white near the throat of each blossom, and that white is surrounded by color of increasing intensity with stitching or etching that radiates from the center toward the edges.

The stitched color around the edges is actually a blend of purple and blue, in approximately equal amounts; and the petals are thinner and more translucent than those of the amoena irises in the first two posts. As I mentioned in the last post, the range within which color can be adjusted when editing these plicata images is more limited than the amoenas because of those biological and color characteristics. We can see that in these two color temperature variations…

… where the image on the left is set to a slightly cooler white balance and the image on the right is slightly warmer. With either variation, we lose the subtle appearance of the petal’s blue and purple blend spread across hundreds of individual color cells, with both — especially the warmer one — looking a lot like the colors are too close to a flat, single-toned pastel.

And there are other visual cues that the image’s color balance isn’t correct that can be seen by examining all the color relationships present in either version. First, the standards — which should be close to pure white — show a light blue color cast in the cooler image on the left, and a light yellow color cast in the warmer image on the right. Second, the same color casts are present in the leaves surrounding the flower: they’re too blue or too yellow for the overcast lighting conditions present when I took the photos.

Here’s a way to see how these color variations — which may seem subtle when you view any of the images in isolation — compare to each other. To start, select the middle image below, which is the final color-corrected version.

Now, from the middle image, page to the left to compare it to the cooler version and to the right to compare it with the warmer version. You should then readily see how color correction purifies the whites in the standards and renders more accurate greens — which, because color balance corrections apply to an entire image — has the effect of producing accurate blue and purple tones in the flower’s standards. And if you spend enough time bouncing among the comparisons, you should also see that the center image appears to reveal more detail and a sharper focus — even though detail and sharpness were not adjusted and the only difference between it and the other two is the color balance. Color casts tend to obscure the contrasts our eyes see that we interpret as sharp focus and accurate detail, so the benefits of color correction extend beyond just producing accurate colors.

All this explains why my approach to color correction for photos of botanical subjects has evolved into a “whole image” approach. I aim to represent greens accurately and improve the purity of whites when deciding what color balance best reflects how the plants appeared in the lighting conditions of their natural environment — which also helps properly display the fine variations in color and detail that complex biological structures like irises contain.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!












Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (2 of 3)

From “Tall Bearded Irises” in The Magic of Irises by Barbara Perry Lawton:

“Over the years, iris breeders have added many colors and color patterns to tall bearded irises. They also have changed the forms of the flowers and their substance. Some experts have estimated that well over half of the iris varieties offered for sale by commercial growers have originated in the past ten years…

“Today’s irises remain in bloom for two weeks or more and many are both flared and ruffled. Some are what is called laced, with fringy edges to the standards and falls. The skimpy, droopy falls of earlier irises have become arched, more flared, well formed and broad in newer varieties, so broad that they almost overlap. The standards are of better substance in newer varieties, with sturdy midribs and full, rounded form. You can tell the substance of iris flowers by gently feeling the undersides of the falls. While some feel like tissue, others with good substance feel almost leathery.

“The terms for different color patterns are confusing for the new irisarian but worth learning since they describe so well the variety of combinations. ‘Selfs’ have flowers with standards and falls of the same color. ‘Amoenas’ are bicolored bearded irises with white standards and falls of a different color. ‘Bicolors’ have standards and falls of different colors. ‘Bitones’ are irises with standards and falls of different shades of the same color. ‘Neglectas’ have flowers that are blue or violet bitones. ‘Variegatas’ are bicolored irises with yellow standards and falls of a different color — red, brown or purple. ‘Plicatas’ have flowers with white, yellow, peach or pink ground color and a pattern of stitched or dotted edges in another color. ‘Blends’ have flowers with both blue or purple and yellow or pink pigments. ‘Halos’ have falls and sometimes standards outlined with a band of a lighter or different color.

“Finally, there are the luminatas, probably related genetically to the plicatas, which are known for the absence of anthocyanin coloring in the heart and halts of the iris flower. Anthocyanins are water-soluble pigments that impart to iris flowers colors of blue to purple….”

From “Child in June” by Julie-Ann Maude in National Poetry Anthology 2007, edited by Peter Quinn:

Carefully stepping over albino brittle weeds,
Sprayed last week as a reminder little feet
And little legs are here again: She skips to the lawn.

A sandpit sits untouched and the lid holds two
Bricks that tried to stop the rain intruding
And the snails from sneaking into a bucket or along
The handle of a spade.

Forget-me-nots have dried and withered but still,
Little hands want to pluck and display them.
Grass cuttings cling to flipflops; carried
Across a less than groomed, green carpet.

Past foxgloves whose lower bells beckon
And draw bees toward their speckled insides.
Purple and white iris petals unfold like
Fragments of torn skin….


Hello!

This is the second of three posts with photos of irises with white standards and colored falls from Oakland Cemetery that I photographed earlier this year. The first post is Amoena and Plicata Iris Patterns (1 of 3).

Since I’ve accumulated a fairly large body of images and research on the plants I photograph on this blog, I’ll often take a look at earlier posts about the same subjects to see what I wrote about them — in part to avoid repeating myself too much in my writing — and how I photographed them. The top two images below show these same irises as I photographed and edited them in 2025 (from Natureโ€™s Palette: Exploring Iris Colors, Their Culture, and Their History (7 of 10)), and the bottom two show how I edited them for the posts in this year’s series.

Imagine my surprise! — to discover that I’d emphasized the purple tones last year but emphasized the blue tones this year. Both seemed accurate at the time I took and edited the photos, and the key difference is that, in 2025, I took all the photos in bright sun; but in 2026, it was cloudy during the entire day of my photoshoot. So in 2025, the colors of the scenes I photographed were seen by the camera and remembered by me as warmer (an effect of being brightly lit by the sun) than in 2026 when I photographed them in the shading provided by clouds.

While it’s probably true that most photographers aren’t going to remember hours or days after photographing something exactly what its colors looked like, it’s also true that the composition itself provides visual cues. For the 2025 photos, the presence of sunlight is readily apparent — especially in the flower stems and leaves, as well as in the background — and that reinforces the memory that the scene’s contemporaneous colors contained warmer (more yellow than green and more purple than blue) tones; with the 2026 photos shifting the colors toward cooler (more green and more blue) tones. As I’ve developed more experience with color grading and color correction in Lightroom, I’ve learned to rely in part on my memory but in larger part on examining the relationships among all the colors in an image, adjusting white balance so that the visually stable and relatively uncontroversial greens are rendered accurately. This approach shifts the entire image to warmer or cooler colors, and helps ensure that the whole image and its colors reflect the lighting conditions present when I took the photos.

But this, too, is true: blue and purple flowers have a particularly wide range of individual colors between “pure” purple and “pure” blue that make it possible to adjust their colors in editing programs like Lightroom in either the warm or cool direction without creating unnatural-looking results. Because each flower cell contains its own color signature, the accumulated effect — and the camera’s ability to capture that effect at nearly a one-to-one relationship between cells and pixels — is that a single flower petal may contain hundreds or even thousands of slightly different colors that both capture and reflect light differently. This, of course, demonstrates the complex relationship between botanically produced colors and how we represent them digitally, so I decided to ask my co-conspirator Claude.AI to help me explain how it works. To my question about why flowers like this tolerate such a wide range of color adjustments yet retain a natural-looking appearance, I was told:

There’s a genuine botanical reason both renderings look “right” rather than one looking like a mistake. Iris purples in this hue range are typically delphinidin-based anthocyanins — the same pigment class responsible for blue-to-purple color across a huge range of flowers — and that pigment’s expressed hue is famously sensitive to vacuolar pH, co-pigmentation, and metal-ion complexation, sliding along a continuum from reddish-purple to true blue depending on those factors. This doesn’t mean your specific flower’s pigment chemistry changed between years — it didn’t. But it does mean the hue space your warm and cool grades occupy is one that this pigment class legitimately spans across iris varieties in nature. You’re not distorting the flower into an alien color; you’re landing at two different, both plausible points on an axis that the pigment itself is known to travel. That’s part of why neither version reads as “wrong” to a viewer — you’re choosing between two positions the flower’s own chemistry validates as natural….

The key to understanding this passage is the segment about the flower pigment sensitivity, and it includes the well-known phenomenon often illustrated by how hydrangea blossoms can be induced to change color by modifying their soil pH. While our iris blooms don’t actually change color, each of their densely packed cells — especially because they have thick and opaque (rather than thin and translucent) petals — produces color and responds to light in its own way, and may even show different colors depending on the angle from which they’re photographed or viewed. These many color variations, then, are captured by a camera’s sensor, so we have much more to work with than just a few simple purples or blues. By comparison, the plicata irises I’ll feature in the third post in this series (which you can also see here from last year) have thinner and more translucent petals through which more light passes than is reflected, and can be accurately edited only within a fairly narrow color range.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!