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

White Chrysanthemum Variations (1 of 2)

From “Chrysanthemum” in Japanese Gardens by Wendy B. Murphy:

“Chrysanthemums have been cultivated in the Orient for thousands of years, and in Japan they have come to symbolize longevity. A stylized 16-petaled chrysanthemum is the official insignia of the Japanese Emperor, while lesser members of the Emperor’s family wear chrysanthemum insignia containing 14 petals. Possibly because of the mystique surrounding it, the plant has special importance in a Japanese garden. It is often elaborately trained by pinching back and disbudding to form pyramids and cascades of bloom, some of which require extensive bamboo understructures. But it is also allowed to grow more naturally. Few gardens, in fact, are without at least one example of this major flowering plant of the Japanese autumn.

“The florist’s chrysanthemum probably originated in China centuries ago. It comes in many sizes and shapes, but its flowers all have the same basic arrangement: they are made up of a band of outer petals, called ray florets, and a circle of inner petals, called disc florets…. In some, the ray florets curve inward and overlap to form large globelike blooms; these are said to belong to the incurve class. In others, the ray florets curve backward in the manner of the petals of an aster, and are classed as decorative or aster-flowering blooms…. In all these flowering types, the colors range from white and yellow to purple and dark red.”

From “The Chrysanthemum” in The Garden Flowers of China by H. L. Li:

“Probably the most valuable contribution in horticulture from China to the rest of the world is the garden chrysanthemum, one of the most popular of all flowers. Though the flowering season of chrysanthemum is relatively short — about six weeks — its autumn-blooming habit, at a time when most of the other flowers are far past their prime and practically through blooming, is distinctly a most desirable characteristic. Probably no other flower in cultivation can compare with these autumn beauties in numerous forms, colors, and variations of growth. The chrysanthemum’s endless changes in form and color appeal to the interest of all flower lovers.

“The garden chrysanthemum is exclusively of Chinese origin. However, its origin as a cultivated plant and its early history of cultivation in China are a controversial problem much discussed in Western horticultural literature since the early nineteenth century…. Botanists now generally attribute the origin of the garden chrysanthemum… to two species:
Chrysanthemum indicum(or Chrysanthemum japonicum) and Chrysanthemum morifolium.

“Our present garden forms of this flower are the result of crossing and the variation of progenies of these two species. It is generally believed that the small-flowered, hardy garden types of chrysanthemum were derived from the former, and the larger-flowered florists’ types from the latter, of the two species.”


Hello!

This is the first of two posts with photos of the last batch of chrysanthemums that posed for me toward the end of 2025 at Oakland Cemetery.

From a distance — or with a wide-angle shot — these look like they’re all the same kind of plant…

… but once I started working on the photos, I realized I had two different cultivars here. Their colors were the same (yellow/orange centers with white petals) — but a closer view of the flower petals revealed their separate identities. Here we see the two varieties side-by-side, where one variety has produced long, slender petals in just one or two circular rows; and the other variety has produced much shorter petals with multiple overlapping layers. The two varieties cluster their flowers differently, too: each stem of the variety on the left typically produced three to five flowers per stem; whereas those on the right produced a dozen or more tightly compacted crowns of flowers, looking almost like a rounded bouquet or a nosegay arrangement ready to be picked.

While the leaves of both plants sport a similar appearance, their overall height is different: those on the left are much shorter than those on the right. That enabled Oakland’s landscapers to arrange them so they grew as shown in the photos: the plants cascade like a waterfall over the wall between the two varieties, with nature doing as nature does and letting the plants blend themselves together at this boundary. And as an alert viewer, you might notice something else about this grouping: the chrysanthemum Ajania pacifica that I posted about previously (see Ajania pacifica, the Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum (1 of 2) and Ajania pacifica, the Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum (2 of 2)) has been used to create a colorful border for the whole scene, with some of its plants spreading into this sculpted landscape by inserting themselves among the two yellow and white varieties.

As is described in the second quotation above, these two variants are very likely to be hybrids derived from their endemic chrysanthemum ancestors, Chrysanthemum indicum and Chrysanthemum morifolium. Either plant could also be known by several common names — including Florist’s Chrysanthemum, Florist’s Daisy, Garden Chrysanthemum, Hardy Garden Mum, and Garden Mum — that reflect their use in gardens and the florist trades. They’re both so representative of chrysanthemums as a whole that PlantNet doesn’t identify them distinctly; it simply identifies my photo subjects as “Chrysanthemums (genus)” since its cultivars are so many, so common, and so similar in appearance.

But that they’re common as chrysanthemum representatives and prevalent in many gardens doesn’t make them any less photogenic. They look quite striking arranged as a group, even more so with the rich green backdrop provided by their abundant leaves, and with the presence of randomly appearing yellow and orange Ajania pacifica blooms adding even more color contrasts.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!






Ajania pacifica, the Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum (2 of 2)

From Mediterranean Gardening: A Waterwise Approach by Heidi Gildemeister:

Ajania pacifica: This evergreen perennial (deciduous below freezing) grows wild on the sandy, well-drained shores of Honshu Island, exposed to summer heat, sea wind and drought. Yellow flowers (late summer to winter) are not spectacular, yet complement artfully the scented, silver-edged leaves. It is well-equipped to survive drought. White, felty leaf undersides prevent drying out on hot sand. This ‘felt’ covers also leaf edges, giving them a silver-lined appearance. Fine silvery hairs on leaves’ upper side reflect sun light….Compact rosettes‘ mutual leaf-shading is a further feature….

“Careful leaf-positioning, another feature, creates within the plant a favourable shade centre. It may also, in contrast, avoid leaf exposure to sun…. Mutual leaf-shading is evident with
Ajania pacifica. After planting, optimum drought-tolerance is only reached once leaves have repositioned themselves into their characteristic pattern….”

From “Perennials” in Gardening with Nature by James Van Sweden:

Chrysanthemum pacificum (Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum): Likes full sun or partial shade; drought tolerant though prefers moist, rich soils. Needs good drainage, particularly during winter, to prevent die-out…. I love this mounding perennial’s distinguished foliage: it has elegant, dark green leaves that appear lobed and light-colored underneath and are edged in white. Each leaf appears to have an inflorescent border…. [It] has tansy-like blooms consisting of rayless, yellow buttons that grow in clusters. Although they are otherwise undramatic, the blooms hang on from late summer to frost, and they seem to glow against a light dusting of snow….”


Hello!

This is the second of two posts with photos of the chrysanthemum Ajania pacifica, previously known scientifically as Chrysanthemum pacificum or Dendranthema pacificum, which also goes by more familiar names like Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum, Silver and Gold Chrysanthemum, or Pacific Chrysanthemum. The first post — where I wrote about the plant’s native origins and some of its botanical history and cultural history — is Ajania pacifica, the Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum (1 of 2).

As I mentioned in that previous post, this chrysanthemum features leaves that are quite distinctive, something observable in the photos in that post as well as the closeups at the end of this one. The excerpts above describe how that leaf structure is more than just visually interesting: the leaves unfold and overlap to help protect each row from excessive sunlight common to its native beachfront regions, where it’s less likely to have access even to partially shaded conditions. The “fine silvery hairs” covering the leaves have a similar purpose: to enable the leaves to reflect, rather than absorb, the sun’s rays.

These evolutionary characteristics make the plant especially suitable to sunny regions — like the U.S. Southeast — where it can be used to fill broad areas of a landscape with full-sun conditions. This grouping — where there are very few trees or shrubs close enough to the plants to shield them from all-day sunlight — reflects those conditions, where the plants are free to expand within whatever constraints they face from artificial boundaries or soil conditions:

Yet the plant’s capabilities make it equally suitable for a completely different kind of landscaping approach. In this photo…

… we see it used in a raised memorial plot where the plants are constrained by concrete framing common to the Victorian garden cemetery movement in Oakland’s older sections. These concrete frames — typically called “grave curbs” — demarcate individual resting spaces of related family members and are often planted with seasonal perennials so that they evoke different color schemes in spring, summer, and fall.

The use of Ajania pacifica here embodies the Victorian era’s cultural preference for exotic plants from other world regions, with a plant that is adaptable to these growing conditions since it can thrive in sandy soils as well as richer, well-drained soils, with drainage enabled by the planting position well above ground level. While the plants’ horizontal spread might be constrained by the grave curbs, they would still propagate in compact clumps defined by the concrete frame, creating a colorful early winter visual experience while simultaneously adding definition to the architectural shapes provided by the curbs.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!









Ajania pacifica, the Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum (1 of 2)

From the Introduction to Garden Plants of Japan by Ran Levy-Yamamori and Gerard Taaffe:

“There are… significant historical difference between gardening in the East and the West. Japan does not have a history of botanical and horticultural exploration to match that of some European nations especially Britain and, more recently, the United States…. The traffic in plants was almost solely in the one direction, from Japan to the West.

“The Japanese did not need to go exploring far afield, seeking sea passages to spice islands, or new homes for breadfruit or rubber trees. For Japanese connoisseurs it was enough to nurture and enjoy native plants and their cultivars. Japanese nurserymen did not have to dispatch explorers to search for new species to assuage the insatiable appetite for novelties that drove so much of European and North American horticulture for three centuries.”

From “Herbaceous Plants” in Garden Plants of Japan by Ran Levy-Yamamori and Gerard Taaffe:

Ajania pacifica (syn. Dendranthema pacificum). Japanese: iso giku. Distribution is limited between Cape Inubo in Chubu Prefecture and Cape Omae in Shizuoka Prefecture and on cliffs along Izu Peninsula directly above the sea, growing along the coast, beside roads, and on banks in poor soil. A rhizomatous perennial. Unusual because it has no ray flowers only tube flowers…. Flower heads small, 1.5 cm in diameter, tube flowers yellow, densely packed, numerous, each 5 mm in diameter. Grows in poor soil but good drainage is essential. Propagated by stem cuttings. Hardy to Zone 7….

“This flower has been long cultivated and is frequently used for making chrysanthemum dolls (kiku ningyo). Life-size historical figures are decorated with chrysanthemum flowers. Hirakata Park in Osaka puts on a magnificent display every autumn.”


Hello!

It was good that I still had a few batches of Aster family photos left to work on from trips I took to Oakland Cemetery in November and December 2025 — because 2026 so far hasn’t been very conducive to outdoor photography. Two Atlanta-style snowstorms (using that word loosely) bracketed by windy weeks of rare single-digit temperatures, and days and days (and days!) of rain kept The Photographer mostly indoors, and we are just this week shifting toward more seasonable conditions and temperatures. I noticed over the past couple of days that a plum tree across the street from my house has started producing flowers — casting a pink glow on the buildings around it — so that also means that some of the late winter/very early spring blooms are starting to make their appearance, and those at Oakland are already likely posing for upcoming photoshoots.

This is the first of two posts with photos of a distinctive chrysanthemum called Ajania pacifica, which — like Tanacetum coccineum that I’ve previously written about (see Technicolor Tanacetum (1 of 4)) — has undergone reclassification several times and can be found under the scientific names or synonyms Dendranthema pacificum and Chrysanthemum pacificum. It’s commonly known as the Gold and Silver Chrysanthemum, Silver and Gold Chrysanthemum, or Pacific Chrysanthemum — this last name connecting to “pacifica” or “pacificum” and to its native origins in regions on the Pacific Ocean, like Japan.

Its physical appearance is quite unlike many chrysanthemum-adjacent members of the Aster family, which tend to grow outward in low-lying branch segments that mass together and make it difficult to distinguish individual plants. Each Ajania pacifica plant, instead, looks like a wee shrub all on its own, with flowers that organize in compact clusters at the top of rows of large, flat leaves tinged with silver-white brushstrokes along their edges — coloration alluding to the “silver” component of two of its common names.

These characteristics make the plant easier to identify with precision, and the plants, when positioned closely together like this…

… produce a carpet of leaves and flowers that is dense and compact, like a cloud you might think you could walk on that attracts a large quantity of pollinators — some of which you can see (ladybugs, bees, and fritillaries) in the first photos below.

Each plant is quite sturdy on its own, as the stems are thick enough to support the large crown of flowers, which makes it especially suitable for the use noted in the second excerpt at the top of this post: “This flower has been long cultivated and is frequently used for making chrysanthemum dolls (kiku ningyo). Life-size historical figures are decorated with chrysanthemum flowers.” Click the link to kiku ningyo if you’d like to read more about the Chrysanthemum Doll Festivals, or click here to see some typical images.

The first excerpt above may seem unrelated to the second, but I paired these selections intentionally. As I dug into the history of chrysanthemums, I learned that they aren’t native to either the United States or most of Europe, despite how common they’ve become and the extent to which they’ve adapted beyond China, Japan, or other East Asia regions. This description of the one-way traffic of plants from Japan to Europe anchors us initially to European botanical expeditions, especially those that begin in the Victorian era and extend into the early twentieth century. To better understand both the botanical and cultural history of chrysanthemums, though, we need to shift our anchor from a Western or European perspective to an Eastern or Asian one, as the authors allude to in the second paragraph of that excerpt.

Chrysanthemums had been grown, bred, and become embedded in Asian culture for hundreds of years prior to being fetched by European explorers. The European (and later North American) Victorian era was one punctuated by boundless acquisition and cultural absorption of artifacts from “exotic” regions — plants among them — and a lot of the readily available research about native Asian plants tends to be presented from a Western or European perspective. Here, for example, is an excerpt from The Garden Triumphant: Victorian Garden Taste by David Stuart that explains the role of botanical expeditions as the driver of plant mobility between Asia and Europe:

“The Victorian flora was unique. It was unique in its richness, as well as for its newness. The most amazing welter of extraordinary plants poured into Britain from all over the world, whether orchids, waterlilies, or calceolarias (many from the jungles and prairies of South America), exquisite alpine plants from the mountains of Africa or Northern India, and wonderful garden plants that had already been cultivated for centuries in China and, even more especially, Japan. The speed of introduction was entirely new, too, though occasional new garden plants had been arriving at least since Roman times. There was a major burst of new introductions with the discovery of the Americas in the fifteenth century, and minor bursts following the development of trade links with the Orient in the sixteenth century, and China and India in the seventeenth. As European explorers, merchants and collectors began to move inland from the coasts on which they had established themselves, the interest in new garden plants expanded throughout the eighteenth century….

“A plant associated with one of the major ‘aesthetic’ vogues of the Victorian period is now in almost every garden. The chrysanthemum, though a garden plant in China and Japan since ancient times, first arrived in Europe in 1689 (these first plants were from Japan). Oddly, for the plants are usually pretty tough, the first introductions were soon lost, only to be reintroduced in 1789. The enthusiasm for them started about 1800, and soon reached ‘craze’ proportions…”

With its origins in the heyday of Victorian garden cemetery development, Oakland maintains fidelity to those Victorian origins with landscaping that includes not only various chrysanthemum species but a large (and expanding) variety of plants native to China, Japan, or other Asian regions. As new growth and flowering takes place each spring, the Asian influence is evident and explicit: blooms will appear on plants like anemone, azaleas, camellia, dogwoods, plums, and quince — to name just a few of those I photograph and write about here. Many of these plants have native origins in Asia and were swept into Europe and the United States in conjunction with plant exploration, so we can find historical and cultural connections that take us from ancient China and Japan, to Great Britain and other parts of Europe, to the Americas, and to Oakland Cemetery. As I photograph and write about these plants over the next few months, I’m planning to dig further into their Asian botanical history — a new area of research for me that I hope will present a more comprehensive picture of the threads connecting plants and their cultural significance across many more generations and geographic regions.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!










Chrysanthemum Pastels

From “History of the Chrysanthemum” in The Chrysanthemum: Its History, Culture, Classification, and Nomenclature (1885) by F. W. Burbidge:

“The first chrysanthemum that ever flowered in England bloomed in Colville’s nursery, in the King’s Road, Chelsea, in 1795, the plant having been obtained originally from M. Cels, the celebrated nurseryman, of Paris. At this time, and for some little time afterwards, botanists had a contest as to its botanical position; some of them contended that it was one of the Camomiles (Anthemis), whilst others declared that it was unmistakably a Pyrethrum or Feverfew, but at last it was decided that it should be called Chrysanthemum, from chrysos, gold or golden, and anthos, a flower….

Sabine, who was secretary to Horticultural Society at the beginning of the present century, says, however, that Chrysanthemums had been grown in Holland nearly as far back as the year 1688; but, singular to say, in 1821 no gardener in Holland knew anything of them….

“In 1808 their cultivation had increased to some nine or ten varieties, and it went on increasing, many varieties being collected for the Royal Horticultural Society in China and Bengal in 1821 by Mr. Parks. At the end of 1825 the number of varieties seems to have been increased to 48, and in 1826 Sabine writes most cheerily concerning their rapid progress, and of an astounding large exhibition of them being held in the society’s gardens at Chiswick, in which were shown over 700 plants in pots….

“The first sport from the original variety was noted in 1802, in which year Mr. Colville, of Chelsea, sent to Chiswick a pale pink variety, which had sprung from a sort called Changeable Buff. It is curious to note names given to some of the varieties about this time. Let one or two be given for curiosity’s sake: Early Blush, Park’s Small Yellow, Blush Ranunculus, Curled Blush, Tasselled Lilac, Two Coloured Red, Double White Indian, Yellow Indian, Waratah, Quilled Pink, Pale Purple. These names, which in a sense give the characteristic of some of them, seem to indicate that in what are now called the show varieties, which are largely of the strain of
Chrysanthemum sinense, there was the same special singularities as are to be seen now….”

From “American History of the Chrysanthemum” in The Chrysanthemum: Its Culture for Professional Growers and Amateurs (1905) by Arthur Herrington

“There is no authentic record, in fact, not even a tradition as to whom we are indebted for the first introduction of the Chrysanthemum to America, yet it must have been brought, or sent, to this country quite early in the last century.

“The New England Farmer of November 20, 1830, reports on some Chrysanthemums exhibited before the Massachusetts Horticultural Society by its recording secretary, R. L. Emmons, on November 20, and gives a list of varieties, as for example: Tasseled White, Park’s Small Yellow, Quilled Lilac, Quilled White, Golden Lotus and others, and from the similarity of the names to those already mentioned in the English collections, their origin is clearly indicated.

“The late Peter Henderson was the first to introduce into this country, direct from Japan, some of the best varieties known at that time, 1803, which were on exhibition in New York and Philadelphia in 1864…. By those introductions, Peter Henderson kindled the flame which… gave the first impetus to Chrysanthemum culture in America….”


Hello!

The chrysanthemums in this post (taken at Oakland Cemetery in December 2025) remind me of the plant’s ancient origins: with lighter colors that were originally yellow or white, the typical yellow/orange center structures, and their long, thin petals, they mirror the garden or florist’s chrysanthemums that have been known for centuries, and have proliferated in gardens and flower arrangements throughout that entire time. These plants are most likely hybrids based on Chrysanthemum ร— morifolium and Chrysanthemum indicum, with colors tweaked over generations so that each flower reveals softly blended yellow, pink, peach, and orange colors. My favorites of this series are the first three — where I managed to capture a hoverfly fully in focus, and where (if you enlarge the image) you can see its exceptionally big bug-eyes, its distinct mimicry of wasp-like striping, and even that it is fetching nectar from the flowers.

We were supposed to get several inches of snow today, so I expected to be out making snow-people or photographing snow on trees — but we only got spittle flakes and “feels like” temperatures in the lowest possible teens. So instead of venturing outside, I went hunting for some “origin stories” about chrysanthemums — and was thrilled to discover and reproduce excerpts at the top of this post from books published in 1885 and 1905 that describe the plant’s introduction to both England and the United States. More fun than snow! ๐Ÿ™‚

Thanks for taking a look!









Glow-in-the-Dark Mums and Daisies (3 of 3)

From “Subject and Master: Figurative Art” in The Joy of Art: How to Look At, Appreciate, and Talk about Art by Carolyn Schlam:

“Pictures tell a story in their own inimitable way. If a thought or idea was totally understandable in words, we would not need pictures, but the truth is that we depend on our eyes to gather much information and to appreciate the world we live in and that artists imagine for us.

“We now greatly depend on still photographs and moving images (i.e. film) to fill us in on visual matters. As a result, we do not have the dependency on drawings and paintings to describe what we actually see, a function it performed for centuries. Portraiture, in particular, provided a record of what people actually looked like, and was not only prized, but was an almost essential service….

“A Dutch figurative artist, [Johannes] Vermeerโ€™s world is a small and very meticulous one. His scenes are set in two of the rooms in his Delft house, and much has been speculated about optical devices he may have utilized in the creation of his amazingly masterful work.

“In addition to his careful drawing, he is known for his beautiful application of paint. He used an extensive and expensive palette of pigments including ultramarine blue, not common in the seventeenth century. He built the color with reflected tones from adjacent hues.

“[The] very well-known
Girl with a Pearl Earring is an example of his extraordinary sensitivity, soft color, and expressive quality. No Impressionist would give you that black background, but it is so beautiful here as it sets off the sweet light on her face and costume.

“Only a small sampling of Vermeerโ€™s exquisite paintings are known, but his attention to detail is esteemed worldwide. He was a unique voice in portrait painting, never imitated and probably never surpassed.”

From “Head of a Young Girl: Vermeer” in The Eye that Desires to Look Upward: Poems by Steven Cramer:

How long it must have taken to arrange
her knotted turban, the exact slope of her shoulder,
her face adrift in a vacuum of black space;
and that startled look, as if I’d just touched her
lightly, teasingly, on the nape of her neck,
and then, too late, realized my mistake.
Her eyes round out like the red mound
of her lower lip; her face circles toward me
and away…

This morning I write to you
about a face I’ve loved from afar too long,
when all the time it’s the black background
I care for and stare at, while she stares back,
as if to bid me walk with her, into the dark,
into whatever she grows out of and returns to;
and isn’t this the way I look at you —
no more than a yard of air between us,
across the inevitable space between people
learning to face what they want?


Hello!

This is the third of three posts where I took some of my recent photographs of chrysanthemums and daisies, and “painted” their backgrounds black. The first post — with a description of my workflow for creating images like this and some chatter about Paint-by-Number and Velvet Painting — is Glow-in-the-Dark Mums and Daisies (1 of 3) and the second post is Glow-in-the-Dark Mums and Daisies (2 of 3).

The poem “Head of a Young Girl: Vermeer” above is about the famous Johannes Vermeer painting Girl with a Pearl Earring (c. 1665). This type of poem, I have learned, is called an ekphrastic poem — after ekphrasis, an act of engaging with one art form using another. This engagement is usually a vibrant, rhetorical dialogue between two art forms, a distinction made to differentiate ekphrasis from an ordinary text description of, say, a painting or a photograph.

The two stanzas I excerpted above are part of a much longer poem — seven stanzas about the same length as those above — and the poet, Steven Cramer, alternates seamlessly between describing the Vermeer painting and writing about the girl in the pearl earring as if she exists in his version of the real world. At one point, he “encounters” her in a bookstore, as an image on a card, staring at him — so he buys the card. I thought all this was an interesting way to observe a piece of art, about which we can create a complex description but can’t quite possess, even in its commercialized form as a copy of a famous painting on a postcard.

The Wikipedia page for ekphrasis includes other examples of ekphrastic poetry, along with examples of music intended to reflect painted scenes. A slight twist on this might be paintings of musical rehearsals or performances — such as those of Vermeer and his contemporaries — that you can see here: Vermeer and Music: The Art of Love and Leisure.

Vermeer’s painting The Music Lesson is among those featured on that page, and that painting is often included in analyses of Vermeer’s probable use of a camera obscura and mirrors to project scenes he was going to paint on a canvas. The Music Lesson shows several characteristics of the potential use of a camera, even an early one, such as the double shadows behind the painting hanging on the wall above the performer and those beneath the harpsichord, as well as how the ceiling and walls aren’t precisely perpendicular, exhibiting the barrel distortion (or slight bowing) that is common even with modern wide-angle lenses.

If these subjects interest you, Traces of Vermeer by Jane Jelley is a very fine book that explains the use of camera technology by Vermeer and other artists at the time, and includes images of nearly all of Vermeer’s paintings.

Thanks for reading and taking a look!