DaleDucatte.com

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

Discovering (and Rediscovering) Lady Banks’ Rose (2 of 4)

From “Exuberant Gardens” in Secret Gardens Revealed by Their Owners by Rosemary Verey:

“Within a ten-acre garden carved out of pasture and woodland, with wild wetland at its boundary, the house sits with the forest guarding its back. A forty-foot-long border snakes around the house, wrapping it in a pale ribbon of silver leaves and yellow and purple flowers. Double white Rosa banksiae has escaped to climb the tower, wafting its violet scent into the upper rooms….

From “Banksian Roses” in Climbing Plants for Walls and Gardens by C. E. Lucas Phillips:

“Lady Banks’s Rose is the wild white Rosa banksiae ‘Alba-plena’ and its yellow form is R. b. ‘Lutea’. Both are sumptuous climbers and greatly to be cherished by anyone who has a tall house with a large, warm south wall in the warmest counties only. They will grow 40 feet high (much higher in warmer lands) and flower in spring. When happy they bloom in great profusion and they do so on sub-laterals. The white one is deliciously scented, the yellow one less so but more beautiful.

“Beyond removal of the dead flower trusses, no pruning should be done for the first six years, when some of the very oldest wood should be cut out, but taking great care not to lose any strong young canes growing out of the old.

“The Banksian roses also make magnificent tree climbers where the climate is really warm.”


Hello!

This is the second of four posts with photos of two variants of Lady Banks’ Rose (Rosa banksiae) that I took at Oakland Cemetery in early spring. The first post is Discovering (and Rediscovering) Lady Banksโ€™ Rose (1 of 4). As I mentioned in that post, “Lady Banks’ Rose” — attributed to Dorothea Banks — is its most well-known name, though it is also called Banks’ Rose, Banksia or Banksian Rose, or Chinese Climbing Rose.

While this post mostly features close-up photos of individual clusters of flowers, we shouldn’t miss how prolific Lady Banks’ Rose blooming can be. The photo below shows its exuberance with a wide-angle view of the plant near the top of Oakland’s guardhouse. Since a single brick is typically eight inches long, we can estimate that the span of these canes and their flowers is around ten feet horizontally and five feet vertically — an impressive amount of growth for a plant that may be only a few years old. And it maintains its structure through the strengths of its canes and branches alone; there is little for the canes to rest against for support, and Lady Banks’ doesn’t produce elements like the tendrils of vines or other hooking mechanisms to attach it to the building.

The first six photos in the galleries below show how it’s still possible to focus on one small flower cluster, despite the crowded background, and give it prominence through a combination of camera settings (shallow depth of field especially) and adjustments in Lightroom that bring emphasis to the foreground and diminish the presence of the flowers in the back. Those techniques can be used to introduce a sense of depth that wasn’t actually present in the scene at the time, but closely resembles how we might remember seeing the flowers in detail while ignoring the background.

Here we have two photos of Lady Banks’ Rose flower buds. The first image is from the previous post, where I described how seeing them led me to identify the white Lady Banks and launched a mystery into the plant’s appearance near Oakland’s guardhouse. The second photo was taken on the same day, just a few minutes later. Together the two photos tell several stories about this plant, and give us a chance to learn about some of its botanical characteristics.

Each photo shows a cluster of buds emanating together from a single point on their canes. The appearance of more individual buds in the left image than the one on the right comes about in part from their position on the plant: the left ones, nearer the ground, have canes that are thicker and more capable of carrying the weight of a larger bud cluster. Those on the right, by contrast, are nearer the top of the plant where canes are thinner so bud clusters may be smaller, but the plant will produce several clusters of similar size spaced regularly along the canes. This helps distribute weight more evenly and ensure that canes may curve and bend, but won’t break. This growth technique gives larger Lady Banks’ roses one of their most distinctive visual characteristics: your eye can roughly trace a series of downward-facing ovals that overlap and these shapes are apparent in the wide-angle photo I included above.

The overall organization of flower buds is called a corymb, a botanical term that refers to the way some flowers will grow into an arrangement that is slightly rounded or domed at the top. Each bud emerges at the tops of thin stems — pedicels — starting from a single point on the plant’s canes, with each pedicel having a different length. The varying lengths combined with the weight of individual buds cause the pedicels to bend outward and produce the dome shape. That shape ensures that the flowers will barely overlap when fully opened and will therefore be exposed to more opportunities for pollination. Intriguingly, the shapes of the bud corymbs as domes echoes the oval or circular structure of the plant as a whole.

We can also observe something about the plant’s bloom timing by comparing these two photos. An obvious difference is that the buds on the right are starting to open and reveal the five-part petal structure that’s common to many roses. But something more subtle that you’ll see once it’s pointed out is that the pedicels themselves have turned red and have produced tiny red collars at the base of each bud. This color change — from green pedicels on the left to red pedicels on the right — tells us that the buds on the right developed earlier, something that most likely happened because that photo is from the top of the plant (near the roof of the guardhouse) where it would have gotten more light.

Many plants produce cells with red or red-adjacent colors — anthocyanins — and the Lady Banks’ Rose tends to produce them mainly in its hundreds of pedicels, with the intensity of the red color varying largely depending on how much light is available to parts of the plant. Given how much space a Lady Banks Rose plant can grow to occupy, individual segments exist in micro-climates of their own, where light and access to moisture can vary significantly. As you look through the photos below, notice how the red in pedicels varies quite a bit — from slightly pink to saturated red — and you may also see what I saw: that the flower clusters with redder stems were getting more light even on the shady day I took these pictures.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!











Discovering (and Rediscovering) Lady Banks’ Rose (1 of 4)

From “Rosa banksiae” in Trees and Shrubs by Ernie Wasson:

“Near-evergreen in mild climates, this once-flowering climbing rose from western and central China is now seldom cultivated, though its double-flowered varieties, the white Rosa banksiae var. banksiae and the yellow Rosa banksiae var. lutea are very popular. The species can grow to over 30 ft (9 m) high or wide but regular trimming will keep it compact and shrubby. It blooms from spring to early summer, producing massed sprays of small white flowers.”

From “Rosa banksiae” in Some Like It Hot: Flowers that Thrive in Hot Humid Weather by P. J. Gartin:

“Banksian roses are native from north-central through southern China. The wild version has small, white, single flowers that smell intensely of violets. A double yellow variety (Rosa banksiae ‘Lutea’) was discovered in the Canton province and presented [in England] in 1824. This is the Lady Banks rose that most people associate with Deep South gardens….

Lady Banks ‘Lutea’ has soft yellow flowers with a green eye. Blossom size is quite dainty at only 3/8 – 5/8 inch in diameter. Although they are not scented, the bloom is always copious. This is the perfect plant to weave in and out of a fence or trellis because it will not bite the hand that cares for it; it is practically thornless. ‘Lutea’ is the hardiest of the Lady Banks roses although temperatures below 15 degrees will kill it. Like the rest of these roses, it is practically impervious to disease.

“The double white version,
‘Alba Pena’, which is sometimes designated as R. banksiae banksiaeis not quite as hardy as Lady Banks ‘Lutea’ and has a few more thorns. However, its 5/8 – 3/4-inch flowers have an intense violet fragrance…. Lady Banks roses flower on second and third year growth and they are not repeat bloomers. They are fast climbers that will reach 15 – 20 feet in height….”


Hello!

This is the first of four posts with photos of two variants of Lady Banks’ Rose (Rosa banksiae) that I took at Oakland Cemetery in early spring. “Lady Banks’ Rose” is the most frequently used common name for plants in this species, a name attributed to honor Dorothea Banks, the wife of nineteenth-century botanist and plant explorer Joseph Banks. You may also encounter it under the names Banks’ Rose, Banksia or Banksian Rose, or Chinese Climbing Rose when it’s discussed in conjunction with other roses originating from China that exhibit climbing or vining characteristics.

I was very familiar with a Lady Banks’ Rose that produces double-yellow flowers — Rosa banksiae var. ‘lutea’ — from previous photoshoots when that was the only Lady Banks’ Rose on Oakland’s grounds, singly representing its presence in the southeast and availability at local garden centers. I had timed my photoshoot specifically to hunt down that plant with yellow flowers and observe how it’s changed over the years, and then….

As I entered the property’s main entrance and passed the guardhouse (originally called the Watch House), I saw what looked like a flowering vine that I assumed was jasmine or something similar (which I’d never photographed), as that’s what I’d seen growing there previously. From a bit of distance, the white flowers and green leaves against red brick caught my eye, with their strong color contrasts apparent on an overcast day — contrasts that would typically attract my attention, just like they attract Oakland’s insect pollinators.

I almost kept walking by — I was on a mission after all! — but decided to take a closer look, and saw these…

… very distinctive flower buds that I recognized from my earlier photography work on Rosa banksiae var. ‘lutea’ — the yellow variant. Where this plant came from, and when, became an immediate mystery, as I’ve walked this route from the main entrance multiple times every spring for years, but this was the first time I’d seen this Lady Banks’ Rose with double white flowers — which I now know to be Rosa banksiae var. banksiae — in bloom.

Despite having thousands of photos of plants and architecture from Oakland going back to 2007, I didn’t have a single photograph of the guardhouse that I could use to anchor on a timeframe, or even confirm what I vaguely remembered twining up the building’s arches. Skulking around the internet, I eventually found an image of the guardhouse duplicated on several sites (possibly a shared stock photograph) showing a vine emerging from the ground near the rain gutter’s downspout. Those images resonated with my memory of a thin, scraggly plant with a few randomly spaced pink flowers toward the top — and at least confirmed that the white double Lady Banks’ Rose replaced a previous occupant growing in the same place.

If we interrogate the plant and its photographs now, we can come up with a reasonable hypothesis about its genesis here and its age. In this photo from my next series…

… notice the size of the cane structure on the right. The largest one is three to four inches in diameter as it has expanded to support the weight of the plant’s central spine while extending both vertically and horizontally and winding up the building. The plant’s process here is similar to the way a tree builds growth rings — layering new rings of increasing diameter as the plant’s height and weight increase.

The Lady Banks’ Rose is known to expand the diameter of these supporting canes at a rate of about an inch per year, and is also known to produce its canes and stems for three to five years before it develops its first flower buds and its first exuberant blooming cycle. These botanical characteristics suggest that the plant was added to this location as many as five years ago — likely around the same time as some completed guardhouse renovations — and this could be its first year in bloom. Taken together, these observations explain why I’d never seen it before despite passing the guardhouse to engage with its yellow-flowering relative every spring since 2022.

With that mystery solved reasonably well, we can now talk about the photos in this four-part series. Since it was the brick and plant color contrasts that got my attention to begin with, I’ve used this first post to highlight the plant’s growth patterns against the brick columns and walls in its background. In the second post, we’ll see more of its flowers and buds close up. In the third and fourth posts, we’ll switch from Rosa banksiae var. banksiae to Rosa banksiae var. ‘lutea’ — from white to yellow — and observe some of the differences between the two, visually and botanically. Throughout all the remaining posts, we’ll also explore their use in gardens, their significance to memorial gardens like Oakland, and their botanical and cultural history.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!













Rosa laevigata, the Cherokee Rose (2 of 2)

From “Rosa laevigata and Its Hybrids” in Climbing Roses of the World by Charles Quest-Ritson:

Rosa laevigata is known as the Cherokee rose, because it has spread over much of the American South. Indeed, it was first described in 1803 from specimens collected in Georgia, where it is now the state flower. The Australian rosarian Susan Irvine (1997) wrote that ‘like the Banksias, it has become part of our landscape. It might eventually achieve wild rose status here too.’ Rosa laevigata is not hardy in New England or central Europe.

Rosa laevigata… is a vigorous shrub which naturally clambers up trees to a height of 10 m, aided by scattered, strong, reddish brown, hooked prickles. The evergreen leaves have three to five (usually three) leaflets and are brilliant, shiny, dark green, and quite hairless on both sides. The leaflets are variable in size and shape, but usually 4-9 cm long and 2-5 cm wide, hard, leathery, and short stalked. The midribs are sometimes crimson and may also have prickles underneath. The flowers are white, invariably solitary, single, scented (of gardenia), and 6-9 cm across. They are borne on bristly stalks, with bristly receptacles and bristly sepals which persist for a long time…. The handsome golden stamens are very striking. The fruits are 3.5-4.0 cm across, egg shaped, orange or red, and very bristly.

Rosa laevigata is native to lowland areas of southern China and Indo-China. In warm climates, it is one of the most beautiful of all single roses, especially when covered with its brilliant white flowers, which are large for a species and wonderfully set off by their great boss of yellow stamens and the dark, glossy leaves. It has been little used for hybridising, although a double-flowered form was reported from California in 1900.”

From “American Beauty” in In Search of Lost Roses by Thomas Christopher:

“[When the Cherokee Rose] was adopted in 1916 as the state flower of Georgia; that resolution began: ‘Whereas, the Cherokee Rose, having its origin among the aborigines of the northern portion of the state of Georgia, is indigenous to its soil, and grows with equal luxuriance in every county of the state…’ This is not only poor English, it also runs counter to the opinions of most botanists. This species of rose is common throughout Georgia, as well as the rest of the Southeastern states โ€” the whole area, in fact, once inhabited by the Cherokee Indians….

“Moreover, the rose has been established there for a long time. The first scientific description of it appeared in the Flora Boreali Americana of French botanist Andre Michaux, a work that was published posthumously in 1803. Michaux, who rambled up and down our eastern seaboard for twelve years, collecting plants first for the French monarchy and later for the Republic, wrote of finding the rose he named laevigata in backwoods Georgia….

“He could hardly have missed it, since this plant is not only common, it climbs through the trees to a height as great as fifty feet. A single specimen may spread over an area of ten thousand square feet, bearing in May or June a fragrant shower of golden-centered three-inch white flowers. A spectacular rose, but not a native….

“It’s Chinese, the botanists agree. This species is also common throughout the warmer regions of that country, where it is known as Chin Ying Tzu, the “Golden Cherry,” that is a tribute to the plant’s colorful hips. The first record of its arrival in Europe dates to 1696 โ€” like many of its fellows, it travelled deck-passage on an East India Company merchant-man. How and when it arrived in North America is unknown; how it penetrated to the interior so quickly (if 1696 does mark its introduction to the West) is inconceivable….”


Hello!

This is the second of two posts with photos of a Cherokee Rose (Rosa laevigata) that I took at Oakland Cemetery in March. The first post is Rosa laevigata, the Cherokee Rose (1 of 2), where I described the plant’s botanical characteristics and some of what I learned about its botanical and cultural history. That post showed the Cherokee Rose’s ability to traverse long distances both horizontally and vertically, making observations that it can stretch 30-50 feet evident from this single specimen. In this post, we get a closer look at individual flowers — which are especially striking when they fill the photo frame in groups of two or three emanating from single (or sometimes separate) stems.

As I continued researching the Cherokee Rose, I came across this botanical drawing by Pierre-Joseph Redoute, from the 1821 second volume of his three-book series Les Roses. Here the plant is identified by one of its earlier scientific names Rosa nivea, and by the common name Rosier blanc de Neige, or Snow White Rose — an especially fitting nickname given the pure white, soft, and slightly translucent flowers the Cherokee produces.

Redoute’s interpretation aligns quite well with the excerpt from Climbing Roses of the World by Charles Quest-Ritson that I included at the top of this post, deftly illustrating the placement of flowers, the three- to five-part structure of the leaves, and its slightly curved or hook-shaped thorns. The fruits — “egg-shaped, orange or red, and very bristly” — are likely missing from the drawing since they tend to appear much further down a plant’s stems or canes so might not have been present in Redoute’s subject. You can, however, find a few examples of those in my first post that match Quest-Ritson’s description exactly if you hunt for them. Or look here…

… where one of these interesting structures is near the bottom of the cane. Their presence, I have learned, is part of the lifecycle and reproductive workflow of the Cherokee Rose, and those I found that are distant from this spring’s flowers are likely from the plant’s previous season. These are equivalent to rose hips produced by many members of the Rose or Rosaceae family of plants, but in the Cherokee Rose, their large size (most I saw were about two inches long) and durability make it more likely they’ll persist from one year to the next. You can see a close-up image of one that I took in January of 2022 (so long ago!) on this post, in the first gallery, at a time when I didn’t actually know what they were, and just thought they were photographically fascinating.

In her book A Southern Garden: A Handbook for the Middle South, author Elizabeth Lawrence states that the white Cherokee Rose blooms around April in this region (as we have seen) but may also produce blooms in the fall or as late as December. Of course, I now have a note on my calendar to follow up and check for signs of blooming life as summer ends. It will be a fun new mystery to solve if this plant does produce another round of blooms before winter, though — if not — I can still hunt down some of its spiked hips among the tangled vines and canes.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!