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

The Yellowest Yellow Irises (2 of 2)

From “The Iris in Heraldry” in Irises: A Romantic History with a Guide to Cultivation by Susan Berry:

“The heraldic fleur-de-lis almost certainly derives from the iris flower. According to John Guillim, in A Display of Heraldrie, published in 1610, the fleur-de-lis ‘is in Latine called Iris.’ Its origins derive apparently from the time of Clovis I, King of the Franks in the sixth century AD, whose army was being pursued by the Goths and was trapped by a bend in the river at Cologne. Clovis caught sight of yellow irises growing far out in the water, and realized that the river had to be shallow enough at that point for his army to cross to safety. Having escaped, he showed his debt to the iris by adopting the flower as his emblem. In the twelfth century, the emblem was revived by the French king, Louis VII, who adopted it as his own during the Crusades, whereupon it was christened the ‘Fleur de Louis,’ or fleur-de-lis.

“According to [Buckner] Hollingsworth in his
Flower Chronicles, so potent a symbol of the monarchy had the fleur-de-lis become in France by the eighteenth century that the Revolutionaries, in 1789, set out to obliterate it, chipping it off buildings and tearing it down from draperies. Men were guillotined for no more than wearing a fleur-de-lis on their clothes or jewellery….

“The iris has also been called the flower of chivalry: ‘a sword for its leaf, and a lily for its heart,’ and the three points of the fleur-de-lis are reputed to stand for faith, wisdom, and valor.”

From “Iris” in Flower Chronicles by Buckner Hollingsworth:

“The earliest appearance of the iris… was in a serious role because the first perfumes were offerings to the gods. Since dried iris root flung on a fire gives forth a pleasant odor, it is more than likely that the iris figured in some of the sacred burnt offerings of primitive times. Be that as it may, a number of men and women very early failed to see why the gods should monopolize all sweet scents. In Egypt, Persia and Greece perfumes of one sort or another were known and valued from very early periods. Theophrastus mentions iris among the plants used for perfume in Athens and down in Corinth an iris water called Irinen, which had the fragrance of violets, was distilled from the rhizomes.

“This peculiar property of orris root should be emphasized. Its odor is not that of iris but of violets. Until the synthetic ionone was discovered… all violet powders and perfumes were based on orris root….

“A second property of orris root is no less important. It has the quality of being able to strengthen the odors of other perfumed substances. Thus, as a fixative, it has for centuries held a place in the making of powders and perfumes.

“When civilization had staggered to its feet after the fall of Rome, during the ensuing Dark Ages, all through the feudal period, in the Renaissance, and up to comparatively modern times, orris root has played a major role in helping to make social intercourse bearable. Clothes, even gloves, were soaked in perfume.”


Hello!

This is the second of two posts with images of intensely colored yellow irises that I photographed in late spring at Oakland Cemetery. The first post is The Yellowest Yellow Irises (1 of 2).

In this post, we get a closer look at some of the flowers’ petals and their beards, and again get to observe the interplay of the plants’ leaves, the varying forms they take, and their surroundings, as well as the shades of green and blue that are reflected by those leaves.

As I can only speculate on this iris’s specific species name, I decided to dig up some historical excerpts about irises in history that are applicable to many variants, including these. The first excerpt explains the connection between irises and the fleur-de-lis as a coat of arms or symbol of heraldry, while acknowledging that this “almost certainty” includes competing narratives that lilies — not irises — were the inspiration for such symbols. When researching irises or lilies, it’s common to encounter variations of both themes, at least in part because there was a lot of cultural overlap between the two plant families whose members flipped between them as botanical exploration advanced toward greater scientific accuracy. A consistent recurring detail, though, is that the irises Clovis encountered were most likely yellow Iris pseudacorus, commonly known as the Yellow Flag Iris, or Water Iris, based on its preference for growing in the vicinity of (or in) swamps or bogs. While it’s considered invasive in some regions, its better story is that its ancient landscape presence likely means that its yellow colors found their way into subsequent iris generations and variations.

The second excerpt describes the uses of perfume derived from orris root, introducing them then anchoring in pre-modern periods when personal hygiene had a different kind of emphasis than you might be accustomed to, especially when running water was a luxury in private homes. Overpowering orris-based perfumes helped make social interactions “bearable” — presumably because… well, do I really need to explain?

Thanks for taking a look!












The Yellowest Yellow Irises (1 of 2)

From “A Cavalcade of Color” in Irises by Harry Randall: 

“Just as bearded irises have been improved in form and habits of growth, so they have been improved in colour; and I must try to deal with this aspect of my subject. I emphasize, however, that I make no claim to be any kind of an authority on colour values; and if this book should ever be glanced at by a professor at the Slade or a dye expert at a nylon factory I hope that my amateurishness will be laughingly overlooked. My justification for touching on the subject is that I am not colour blind, and that for many years I have watched with pleasant surprise the improvement in the colouring of the iris family.

“One of the first irises I ever bought was one introduced in France in I912 Deuil de Valery Mayet. It was a smoky blend the like of which I had never seen before, and at the time I thought it wonderful; but I soon decided that it was about the dullest flower in my garden. Other irises succeeded it, each batch being more colourful than the previous one; and when Golden Hind appeared in the 1930s my desire for brightness seemed satisfied at last. But I soon found that masses of “hot’ yellow irises in the border can be garish, and I began to appreciate the cooler colours all the more. At one time I liked self-coloured irises, but then some of the bitones appealed to me, and finally the blends. Probably every iris grower has these changing preferences, and I mention the fact here to indicate to beginners that as their tastes inevitably change they will have tremendous interest and fun in the process.”

From “Yellow” in A Guide to Bearded Irises: Cultivating the Rainbow for Beginners and Enthusiasts by Kelly Norris:

“I think we take yellow for granted in the iris world, despite the fact that clarifying it from sodden and sullied to lustrous and sparkling was one of the greatest challenges of iris breeding in the 20th century. Many have credited the venerable โ€˜W. R. Dykesโ€™ (Dykes-Orpington 1926), the iris named for the godfather of the genus, with starting it all — stirring frenzy on both sides of the Atlantic for sun-kissed tints on iris flowers.

“The range of yellow could cover continents in geographical terms. From the palest butter and white blend like that of โ€˜Melted Butterโ€™ (Fan 1994) to the eye-searing, dark cadmium yellow blossoms of โ€˜Throbโ€™ (Weiler 1991), yellow unspecifically describes many colors….”


Hello!

This is the first of two posts with images of some fascinating yellow irises that I photographed in late spring at Oakland Cemetery. I posted a few photographs of this same iris and wrote about its unique characteristics (especially its intense yellow color) last year — see Natureโ€™s Palette: Exploring Iris Colors, Their Culture, and Their History (9 of 10) — and as I reread that post, I think it holds up pretty well. I won’t repeat too much of what I wrote last year, except to note that I still think it’s quite likely that these irises are either the ‘Throb’ cultivar (developed in 1991) mentioned in that previous post or a very close relative, as the color production, the flower shape, and the degree of flower petal ruffling seem a close match.

Among the images below, I’ve included five at the beginning that show the stretch of landscaping where these irises live, their only planting at Oakland. Those photographs — taken from decreasing distances — help to show not only their height (which gets them classified as tall bearded irises), but also their extravagant leaves, many of which exceed the height of the flowers and demonstrate substantial horizontal spread. The leaves are as interesting as the flowers in terms of both color and form: their length causes them to fold over gracefully and often overlap in curved lines, and their colors — even on the same plant — are never just a single green, but demonstrate pure greens, yellow greens, and various shades of blue or aqua. While aqua-colored leaves are common among irises, the presence of several different greens along with aqua-blue of such intensity is less common.

I was fortunate that the sun was filtered from behind clouds throughout most of this photoshoot. That helped reveal the multicolored leaves I just described; but also enabled me to take additional photographs of the flowers with more accurate color capture. In full sun, this iris is almost impossible to photograph well: the intensity of the yellow flower petals combined with yellow light from the sun create a dominating yellow color cast that permeates the entire composition. While that’s somewhat manageable after the fact in Lightroom, it’s difficult to eliminate entirely. And it’s compounded by the physical structure of this iris’s flower petals: they’re not translucent like many irises and the petals themselves are thicker than is common. They’re opaque, in effect, so all the color they produce is bounced back into the camera’s sensor, flooding it with bright, highly saturated yellow.

Even in the preferable lighting conditions I just described, these irises demonstrate such intense yellow color that I reduced it by half in Lightroom on every one of these photos. The first photo below (on the left) shows that color saturation reduced by half…

… and the second one shows the results if I attempt to remove all the yellow color in Lightroom — setting yellow saturation to -100 (which is as low as you can go). And yet yellow remains, a pleasant pale yellow variation or vanilla-yellow blend that you might find among some irises — but not these, which are the yellowest of yellows, with orange highlights and orange beards. Temporarily reducing it that much is instructive, though, as it helps reveal where the flower contains orange color and where there are transitions between yellow and orange — color relationships that post-processing should retain to accurately represent the distinctive colors of these irises.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!










Iris Blends (2 of 2)

From “Iris Genetics” in Garden Irises by The American Iris Society, edited by L. F. Randolph:

“There are two distinct types of color pigments in the flowers of the common garden irises. One is an anthocyanin pigment that is found in the cell sap of the flower and occurs among different varieties in various hues ranging from blue-purple to violet and red-purple. The other is yellow, a plastid pigment occurring in values ranging from very light cream to rich golden yellow. Each of these colors is inherited independently, but they often occur together in the same flower as blends of various kinds.

“When both blue-purple and yellow are present in the same flower, the result is a blending of the two colors. Colors produced by this blending effect may range all the way from light orange-yellow through tans and browns to orange-reds and nearly true reds, depending on the relative amounts of the purple and yellow colors present. Neither pure color completely obscures the other (epistasis) nor is obscured by it (hypostasis). However, if the purple is intense and the yellow is pale, it may be difficult to distinguish the blend from true purple. Similarly, small amounts of purple change pure yellows to dull colored or ‘dirty’ yellows and another generation is required to recover the pure yellow color.

“When making genetic analyses of blends and other combinations of characters it is necessary to deal with each character separately; the geneticist must first determine the effects of individual gene differences. Having done this, it is then possible to proceed with analyses of more complex situations involving the combined effects of two or more genes, as in the case of the purple and yellow blends.”

From “Blends” in The Iris Book by Molly Price:

“The blend or polychrome, one of the most delightful patterns in irises, results from the mixture or infusion of two or more colors in the same parts of the flower.”


Hello!

This is the second of two posts with a mixed series of photos of Iris pallida and Iris x germanica plants from the 2026 Spring and Summer Collections at Oakland Cemetery!

The first post is Iris Blends (1 of 2).

Up top, I’ve included two quotations: the first is a scientific explanation describing how irises produce colors and blend them together; and the second is a variation of that explanation that’s easier to take with you when you observe how irises classified as blends show off their delightfully mixed-up colors.

In the first post, I explained four different kinds of lighting I encountered on this photo shoot. That post’s galleries included photos taken in diffused light and in situations where lighting needed to be inverted between background and foreground, like these:

This post’s galleries show the sunny series, where the subject was directly lit by the sun with some spot lighting coming from the side, or where the entire composition was basking in full sun, like these:

I prefer compositions like the first pair, where I’m working with scattered, indirect light. But it was a worthwhile experiment to take more photos in full sun than I usually would, and I can imagine now seeking out more subjects lit like the photo on the left where there’s enough shade to keep the background soft and a little dark but the flower is still allowed to shine.

The one on the right, on the other hand, I think needs a different approach to avoid the blotchy, grassy background that comes across as pressed visually against the iris leaves. I took that photo standing above the irises; on another visit, I think I need to get down to the iris’s level — eye to eye (iris to iris!) — to see if I can bring in some distant blurred background rather than the nearby grass. Of course, the 2026 irises have left town for the hot summer, so I’ll have to take a shot at that next year.

Thanks for taking a look!