Botanical Illustration E-Book

Valerie Oxley

• Herausgeber: Crowood
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 320

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Botanical Illustration is an introduction to the marrying of art and science in the aesthetic and accurate portrayal of plant material. This book builds on the work of illustrators of the past, ranging from Elizabeth Blackwell, whose drawings helped to release her husband from debtors' prison, through to the exceptional scientific drawings of Beatrix Potter. It deals with the practical art and the related botany of the subject. Introduction to basic botany; preparation of plant material for drawing; use of pencil, watercolour, coloured pencil and pen and ink; suggested topics for further study; correcting mistakes and finishing touches. Invaluable for beginners and skilled artists alike, and an excellent reference book for teachers. Superbly illustrated with 216 colour illustrations.Valerie Oxley is a freelance tutor who has inspired students worldwide with her enthusiasm for natural history and plant illustration.

Leseprobe

BOTANICAL

A study of the white flowered Cistus x hybridus. The flowers open in the morning and the petal start to fall late afternoon, so time to paint the plant’s portrait is limited. (Valerie Oxley)

BOTANICAL ILLUSTRATION

VALERIE OXLEY

THE CROWOOD PRESS

First published in 2008 by

The Crowood Press Ltd

Ramsbury, Marlborough

Wiltshire SN8 2HR

www.crowood.com

This e-book first published in 2013

This impression 2009

© Valerie Oxley 2008

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my grandchildren, Thomas and Benedict

Line drawings on pages 37–41 and 66–70 by Charlotte Kelly.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 1 84797 661 1

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to all the artists, friends and colleagues around the world who have generously allowed their drawings to be included in this book, whether they have been exhibited masterpieces or simply sketches: to James J. White, Curator of Art and Principal Research Scholar, Hunt Institute for Botanical Documentation, Pittsburgh and Malcolm Beasley, Botany Library Collection Development Manager, Natural History Museum, London, for their continued support in all things botanical; H. Walter Lack, Director of the Botanic Garden and Botanical Museum Berlin-Dahlem, for assisting in the quest for an image of Linnaeus’ floral clock; Alison M. Paul, Curator of Pteridophytes, Department of Botany, the Natural History Museum, London for the naming of Dryopteris x uliginosa; Emma Pearce, formerly of Winsor and Newton, for technical advice on watercolours, and Donna Richards and colleagues at Daler Rowney; Lee Callaghan at Peak Imaging for his calm professionalism; Wendy Harvey, Cyril and June Stocks, Peter Mitchell and Peter Gravett for checking that I was on the right track and with particular thanks to Jill Holcombe for her attention to detail, sensible advice and friendship; my husband Michael and all my family, for their unstinting support, love and encouragement; and not forgetting Jane Coper, the delightful lady who said ‘yes’.

CONTENTS

Introduction

1.     The History of Botanical Illustration

2.     Simple Botany of Plants and Flowers

3.     Materials and Equipment

4.     Preparation of Plant Material

5.     Observation Techniques

6.     Starting to Draw

7.     Developing Tonal Studies

8.     Preparing to Paint

9.     Colours and Paint

10.   Watercolour Techniques

11.   What Do I Paint?

12.   How Do I Paint?

13.   Alternative Media

14.   Help! The Plant Is Too Big for the Page

15.   Finishing Touches

16.

A sketchbook study of Oenothera glazioviana which was found growing wild near the sea in Dorset. Sketchbook studies provide useful information for identification, and for the understanding of plant growth and form. (Valerie Oxley)

INTRODUCTION

Brought up on the edge of Northampton, I have always been passionate about the countryside. From an early age I collected and pressed wild flowers, identifying them with the help of the Wild Flower Guide by R.S.R. Fitter and the Observer’s Book of Wild Flowers by W.J. Stokoe. I organized a nature club for my junior school friends and turned the redundant coalhouse in our back garden into a nature museum. A child’s life in the 1950s was something of an adventure. There was so much to discover in the natural world, so much to find, to collect and to treasure. We could roam more freely than children do now. I knew where all the birds nested in the hedgerow and when the first wild flowers were likely to appear. I was frequently admonished for arriving home late from an expedition, often with wet feet, the water having flooded over the tops of my wellingtons when trying to gather marsh marigolds or lady’s smock from the water meadows by the tranquil River Nene. When not collecting wild flowers, I would be hurrying home with a jam jar of frogspawn, eager to watch the eggs develop into tadpoles and small frogs in an old tin bath in the garden. Getting into trouble, nettled, scratched and wet seemed to be a necessary part of my whole experience of growing up.

There was never a time during my childhood when my sisters and I did not draw. This pleasurable activity was encouraged by both our parents. The natural world was close at hand, and studies of wild flowers always followed excursions into the countryside. I could smell the violets under the hedges on country walks. I was glued to the window of the car when we travelled, and my father always answered my calls to stop by pulling onto the grass verge (the roads were quieter then). An old book was carried for immediate flower pressings; otherwise they were placed between newspapers and put under the carpet when we returned home.

Later, much of my spare time was spent exploring the inland waterways. On journeys through the canals and rivers of England and Wales, I always marvelled at how plants could be seen growing in the most inhospitable surroundings, particularly in the middle of large cities. Plants could be seen tenaciously clinging to a lock gate or growing from a crack in the wall of a derelict factory by the water’s edge. I remember seeing a swathe of rose-bay willow herb on a bank in the middle of Birmingham at dusk and thought how suited it was to its folk name of fireweed, as it glowed in the dwindling light of the setting sun.

I began to share my interest with others. One thing led to another, and before long I found myself tutoring classes in botanical illustration at the University of Sheffield. The classes started in 1989 with weekly meetings for beginners. By 1997 they had developed into a Diploma in Botanical Illustration, level two of a university degree, comprising four years part-time study. The programme was unique in that botanical art was taught alongside botanical science. It was an exciting time, with botanists and artists teaching and learning together. The classes were always oversubscribed, and the dedication and enthusiasm of the students unequalled.

As students progressed through the classes and completed their studies it became clear that something was missing. A place was needed for people to meet and talk, somewhere for them to share a common interest with added opportunities to continue learning and to exhibit their botanical artwork. As a result, The Northern Society for Botanical Art was founded in Sheffield in 1993.

Another exciting venture was the formation in 2002 of The Florilegium Society at Sheffield Botanical Gardens. The society was established to create an historical archive of drawings of plants in the gardens, which will be a lasting gift to the people of Sheffield.

For me, a childhood interest has become a lifelong passion, and I feel fortunate that I have met so many wonderful people along the way and shared with them the joys and challenges of botanical illustration that I have experienced, where each leaf is a landscape and each tiny flower a voyage of discovery.

The Swedish botanist Linnaeus observed that flowers opened and closed at particular times of the day. He suggested these could be planted in the form of a clock that would complement the sun-dial and could be used on dull days. This dial was painted by Ursula Schleicher-Benz in 1948.

(Ursula Schlecher-Benz, Eine Blumen-Uhr aus: F. Boer (Hrsg.), Lindauer Bilderbogen, Lindau/Reutlingen. By kind permission of the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, München and © Jan Thorbecke Verlag, D-Ostfildern)

CHAPTER 1THE HISTORY OF BOTANICAL ILLUSTRATION

Botanical illustration has a long and varied history. The excellent book, The Art of Botanical Illustration describes the history and art of botanical illustration as it developed through the ages. The original book was written by Wilfrid Blunt and William Stearn in 1950. It was revised by Stearn and republished in 1994 to include a new chapter about twentieth-century illustration. The book deals with the discovery of the earliest collection of plant drawings, or florilegium at the Great Temple of Tuthmosis III at Karnak about 1450BC. The story of botanical art continued to unfold until the revival of interest in flower portraiture in recent times. The book makes fascinating reading, and I thoroughly recommend searching it out.

In my own quest for knowledge about the early illustrators I have discovered a number of artists whose adventures have been inspiring. I would like to share some of these stories with you in this chapter, and I hope there will be something in the following lines that will capture your imagination and encourage you to set out on your own voyage of discovery, to learn more about the intriguing and talented artists and their associates in the history of botanical illustration.

An Early Herbal

Elizabeth Blackwell’s A Curious Herbal was one of the first early botanical books l saw in its original binding - and a surprisingly large book it was. The pages brought to life the story of Elizabeth and her herbal, which I had first read about in the pages of The Art of Botanical Illustration. Elizabeth was born in 1700. In 1728 she secretly married a cousin, Alexander Blackwell, who worked as a medical practitioner in Aberdeen. All was well until a dispute arose about his medical credentials, and when an investigation was instigated the couple fled to London. Soon after their arrival in London, Alexander attempted to set himself up as a printer. Unfortunately, because he had neither been through a recognized apprenticeship nor belonged to a guild, other printers in London made it difficult for him to obtain work. He soon fell into debt and was placed in a debtors’ prison. It was left to Elizabeth to try and raise the money for his release.

Elizabeth, a dutiful but desperate wife, approached Sir Hans Sloane (1660–1753) an eminent physician and scientist, for advice. He told her that a new book on medicinal plants was required. Elizabeth, who had some early training in art, decided she would undertake this monumental task. She took rooms near the Chelsea Physic Garden and with the support of Isaac Rand, the Director of the Garden, started preparing drawings and engravings. From his prison cell Alexander was able to offer help with the naming of the plants. The joint enterprise was successful, the herbal was released in weekly parts and the money was raised. Alexander was released from prison two years later. The herbal contains 500 engraved plates that Elizabeth hand-coloured for the first edition. Despite her heroic efforts, Alexander fell into further disrepute. He decided to build a new life in Sweden, but became embroiled in a conspiracy involving the succession to the Swedish throne. He was arrested and hanged for treason in 1748.

Hand coloured engraving of a dandelion by Elizabeth Blackwell from A Curious Herbal 1737–1739.

(© 1995–2008 Missouri Botanical Garden)

Iris germanica on a prepared dark brown background on vellum painted by Barbara Regina Dietzsch 1706–1783.

(Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge)

Paper Mosaics

Another inspirational woman was Mary Delany who was also born in 1700. Mary created paper mosaics that are both intriguing and beautiful. At first glance they look like the work of the Dietzsch family of Nuremburg, who painted plant portraits in watercolour and bodycolour on prepared dark brown backgrounds. Closer inspection of Mary Delany’s work reveals the true construction of her delightful pictures. The mosaics were designed from carefully cut pieces of coloured paper, many of which were obtained from sailors returning from China. Tiny pieces were attached to paper that was first washed with Indian ink. Small details such as the stamens and veins were sometimes added later in paint. I often wonder if Elizabeth Blackwell and Mary Delany ever met. They were of a similar age, but it is probable that for some of the time Mary was in Ireland whilst Elizabeth was in London.

Patron of Artists

Mary Delany became a frequent visitor to Bulstrode, in Buckinghamshire, the home of Margaret, Duchess of Portland. The two ladies shared a common interest in artistic and intellectual pursuits. When Mary’s husband died her friendship with the Dowager Duchess blossomed, and she stayed at Bulstrode for six months each year for the next seventeen years. There were many visitors to Bulstrode, including Jean Jacques Rousseau the French Philosopher, Joseph Banks and his assistant Daniel Solander. The Duchess was highly respected for her intellect and knowledge of natural history. She invited many eminent men to Bulstrode and built up vast natural history collections, which she asked Daniel Solander to catalogue. Solander was a pupil of Linnaeus. Phillip Miller, the chief gardener at the Chelsea Physic Garden, was a frequent visitor to Bulstrode. It was probably through him that the Duchess met the botanical artist George Dionysius Ehret, whom she patronized and employed to instruct two of her daughters in the art of flower painting.

I have barely touched on this fascinating circle of people who met together at Bulstrode during the mid-eighteenth century. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine the conversations amongst such an erstwhile and passionate group of people caught up in the age of enlightenment, an era of discovery, new ideas and classifications of plants. It ended tragically however, for the Duchess’s collections were sold soon after her death, a sale which took nearly forty days to complete. Had the collections remained intact they would have been one of the most important natural history collections of all time, rivalling those of Sir Hans Sloane, which formed the basis for the founding of the Natural History Museum.

A paper collage of Crinum zeylanicum by Mary Delany.

(© The Trustees of the British Museum)

Mary Delany by John Opie.

(National Portrait Gallery, London)

Lady Margaret Cavendish Holles Harley, Duchess of Portland 1715–1785. A miniature portrait c.1750, painted by Christian Frederick Zincke.

(Private collection)

Linnaeus’s Illustrator

One cold and frosty morning I received an unexpected phone call from a gentleman who had links with Welbeck Abbey, the Nottinghamshire seat of the Dukes of Portland. I was invited to inspect a little bundle of papers packed in brown paper and tied with string. My fingers trembled as I opened the parcel. Revealed inside the package were a few sketches of flowers with a list of prices, merely shillings. It was another step back in time, back over the centuries, for within the brown paper package was original work of George Dionysius Ehret.

Ehret was born in Germany, the son of a gardener. He was taught to draw by his father, who died whilst George was still a young boy. He was taken out of school with his brother and the two boys were apprenticed as gardeners to an uncle. George continued to draw, encouraged by a cousin who supplied him with flowers as subjects. His efforts were recognized by a future employer, the Margrave Karl III Wilhelm of Baden-Durlach. In a curious turn of events, it was through the Margrave’s interest in the young man’s drawings that Ehret left the Margrave’s garden to seek work elsewhere. The reason for his departure was that the other gardeners employed by the Margrave were jealous. Arguments arose because they felt he had received preferential treatment, when he had only been employed as a journeyman gardener. This event was fortuitous, the start of a fruitful journey for Ehret, a journey which at some time may have brought him to Welbeck Abbey, with the depositing of a bundle of sketches that I was privileged to look at that frosty morning.

Ehret met the Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus in Holland and collaborated with him by providing drawings to explain his new classification of plants. One day when I was listening to Radio 3, the presenter stated that the piece of music about to be played was based on Linnaeus’s floral clock. The music, L’Horloge de Flore, composed by Jean Francaix, ended with a piece representing the night-flowering catchfly which blooms at nine o’clock. I had not heard of the floral clock or the music associated with it. On further investigation I discovered that in his Philosophic Botanic, Linnaeus noted that plants open and close for various reasons: they can be affected by the weather or the length of day. Furthermore, there are plants that open and close regularly despite the weather conditions or the day length. Linnaeus speculated that if certain aequinoctal plants, those which followed their own rhythm to open despite the external conditions, were to be planted in the shape of a clock one could simply tell the time by looking out of the window.

Portrait of Georg Dionysius Ehret 1708–1770 by George James in which Ehret is looking intently at a sprig of Cestrum diurnum.

(By permission of the Linnean Society of London)

Cytsus scoparius painted by Georg Dionysius Ehret.

(© Natural History Museum, London)

Benefits of Printing Technology

Some years ago, on a further quest to discover more about Ehret, I visited Knowsley Hall, near Liverpool, which has been the home of the Earls of Derby since 1385. After viewing the work of Ehret I was privileged to see some original work of another of the great masters of botanical art, the Belgium-born Pierre-Joseph Redouté (1759–1840). Redouté followed Ehret in the golden age of botanical art. His work is more widely known because he benefited from advances in the techniques of printing at the time he was working. Stipple engraving had become highly developed on the continent and was used to reproduce subtle changes in tone to describe the shape and form of a plant. This more advanced process meant that copies of Redouté’s work could be seen and enjoyed by a wider public, bringing him early recognition, fame and fortune. The fortune did not last long, and he was painting and teaching until the day he died. Redouté taught many of his female pupils by using a set of prepared lithographs. They coloured the plates to his instructions, including the order and use of particular colours. Many of these young ladies hoped to find work as colourists, so their work needed to be accurate. Redouté’s early work shows a fine degree of scientific accuracy, composition and draughtsmanship. In later life demands for illustrations and increasing debts forced him to resort to a more flamboyant painting style.

Artistic Adventures

Ferdinand Bauer (1760–1826) was equally meticulous but not at all flamboyant in his interpretation of plants. I once saw a note from the botanist John Sibthorpe on one of Bauer’s original drawings declaring ‘Pray correct this gross blunder!’ Such a violent response might be used to indicate a leaf which looks as if its midrib has been broken, or a contorted flower which does not fit onto a stem. In Bauer’s case it was for the incorrect drawing of a fruit.

Ferdinand Bauer and his brother Franz (1758–1840) were born in Austria and came to England separately. Franz worked at Kew at the invitation of Sir Joseph Banks, who was looking for an artist to draw the many new plants that were arriving in England at that time. He was followed by Ferdinand, who went to Oxford, recommended by Nikolaus Joseph von Jacquin to the Sherardian Professor of Botany, Dr John Sibthorpe, as a suitable draughtsman to accompany him on an expedition to Greece. It appears that Sibthorpe treated Bauer as no more than a servant, which probably accounts for the sharp comment written on his work. When the Flora Graeca was eventually published it was the botanist who took the credit; the artist was hardly acknowledged.

Later, Sir Joseph Banks suggested Ferdinand as the draughtsman to accompany the botanist Robert Brown on a voyage to Australia. They were to sail in the Investigator under the command of Matthew Flinders, an epic voyage which took several years to complete. The ship was in a poor state for such a long journey, and shortly after arriving in Australia it was condemned. Flinders decided to return to England to obtain another ship in order to complete his survey of the north and west coast. The artist and botanist decided to remain in Australia to continue their work, but over a year later Flinders had not returned, and it is possible that neither Brown nor Bauer knew the reason for his long absence.

Flinders had been given command of another ship, the Cumberland, for the return journey to England. The conditions on board were gradually worsening. The pumps had to work continually to remove water from the decks and in desperation Flinders put into an island occupied by the French (present-day Mauritius), thinking he would receive a safe passage home despite hostilities between the French and the English. Unfortunately the safe passage applied only to the Investigator and not to the Cumberland and consequently Flinders and his crew were interned. Flinders was not released until 1810, six years later.

Meanwhile Bauer and Brown returned to England in 1805, on the repaired Investigator, a journey that took five months. A large number of drawings were undertaken by Bauer during the expedition, but some were not completed until some two years after their return. In an astonishing feat, he was able to ensure the exact colouring of the plants by using a colour code that he had prepared earlier; his drawings were covered in numbers to enable him to match exactly minute areas with the shades of his painted code, an early form of painting by numbers.

Botanist’s Assistant

My first encounter with an elephant-sized book was Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala. Amongst the named illustrators were Mrs Augusta Withers and Miss Drake. More information is known about Augusta Withers, but even Wilfrid Blunt seems to have drawn a blank about Miss Drake, and she has remained a mystery for many years.

Sarah Anne Drake (1803–1857) was employed by Professor John Lindley to assist him with his illustration of plants. He probably gave her drawing instruction, and she was invited to live with the family at Acton Green. It is thought she may have taken on the role of governess to his three children. There is no evidence to suggest that the arrangement was not harmonious, and Sarah was affectionately known by the family as ‘Ducky’ Drake. Professor John Lindley was secretary to the Horticultural Society of London. He was a highly regarded botanist and was influential in recommending that the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew be taken over by the Government as a centre for studying the economic plants of the Empire. Sarah prepared illustrations for him for about fifteen years and was the main artist of Sertum Orchidaceum. She also contributed half the illustrations for James Bateman’s Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala. John Lindley must have thought highly of her work because he named an Australian orchid ‘Drakea’ in her honour. Diabetes was stated as the reason for her early death aged fifty-four, but with the advance of medical knowledge it is now thought she may have died from poisoning following her years of intensive painting with toxic watercolours. It was a sad ending to such an industrious life, but at long last she has received the recognition she deserves and has come out of obscurity.

Hura crepitans by Georg Dionysius Ehret. This drawing shows the influence of the Swedish botanist Linnaeus and his sexual system of plant classification.

(Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge)

Paeonia suffruticosa in watercolour on prepared vellum painted by Pierre-Joseph Redouté in 1812.

(Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge)

Nature-Printed Images

On a visit to Sheffield Central Lending Library some years ago I was shown a beautiful book called The Nature-Printed British Seaweeds published between 1859 and 1860 by Thomas Moore and John Lindley. The colours of the seaweeds were clear and bright. At first I thought they were pressed and stuck onto the page but on closer inspection I discovered the images were somehow raised from the paper. On another occasion, while in Oxford, I was shown The Ferns of Great Britain and Ireland (1855) by the same authors. Both books contained lifelike impressions of plants, three-dimensional nature printing, a process discovered in the fifteenth century and perfected in Austria. Nature printing involved pressing actual seaweeds or ferns into soft lead. The object was placed between plates of lead and steel and pressed tightly together so that an impression was made in the soft lead from which an electrotype could be made for printing. Several colours could be applied during the inking of the plate. The main exponent of the technique was Henry Bradbury, who may have heard about the method whilst working as a pupil at the Imperial Printing Office in Vienna. Bradbury had ambitious plans for extending the range of books to include fungi and trees. Tragically his ideas never materialized because he committed suicide at the age of only twenty-nine.

Helleborus officinalis by Ferdinand Bauer.

(Flora Graeca Drawings. Volume 1 Ms Sherard 241 f.6S. Plant Sciences Library, Oxford University Library Services)

Asphodelus ramosus by Ferdinand Bauer.

(Flora Graeca Drawings. Volume 5 Ms Sherard 245 f.99. Plant Sciences Library, Oxford University Library Services)

A lively illustration of Datura rosei painted by Augusta Innes Withers who was active in London from 1827–1865.

(Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge)

An illustration of Epidendrum vitellinum by Sarah Anne Drake.

(© Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew)

Recently, I read a book about the plant-collecting adventures of George Forrest, who started work at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh and endured the most difficult challenges in his quest for plants. Lilian Snelling was working at the Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh as an artist during the time that George Forrest was sending plant material to the Regius Keeper, Sir Isaac Bayley Balfour (1853–1922). A recent exhibition at Inverleith House in Edinburgh showed pressed specimens that George Forrest brought back from his visits to China, along with some of the drawings that Lilian had made from the plant material he collected. Lilian did not stay at Edinburgh; she was enticed away to work at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew becoming the main artist for the Kew journal, the Curtis Magazine.

Nature-printed fern named as Lastrea cristata uliginosa from The Ferns of Great Britain and Ireland (Moore and Lindley, 1855). This fern is now identified as Dryopteris x uliginosa.

(© 1995–2008 Missouri Botanical Garden)

Beatrix Potter’s Bequest

A lady who had a brush with Kew was Beatrix Potter. Her illustrations for the adventures of Peter Rabbit are widely known, but she was also a remarkable amateur scientist, ahead of her time in her investigations into growing fungal spores. She was badly received by the then Director of Kew, William Thistleton-Dyer, whom Beatrix regarded as rather cynical and boastful. In later life when Beatrix moved to the Lake District she became a member of the Armitt Library, a small subscription library created by the three Armitt sisters Sophia (1847–1908), Annie Maria (1850–1933) and Mary Louisa (1851–1911). Beatrix gave the Armitt Trust many hundreds of her natural history drawings including most of her illustrations of fungi.

Botanical illustration is woven around a living history, tales of adventurers, collectors, naturalists, philanthropists and artists. The Art of Botanical Illustration is full of characters and personalities which will take you on a journey culminating in beautiful illustrations, many of which still lie in the archives of some of the greatest institutions of the world.

Gomphidius glutinosus painted by Beatrix Potter and dated July 1894. Mature and young specimens are clearly illustrated to show the development of the fungus.

(© The Armitt Trust, Ambleside, Cumbria, UK)

Primula obconica painted by Lilian Snelling in 1918 from a specimen collected by George Forrest.

(Reproduced by kind permission of the Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh)

Herbarium sheet for Primula obconica Hance. Collected in Yunnan, China by George Forrest.

(Reproduced by kind permission of the Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh)

A painting of Epiphyllum oxypetalum, which flowers after dark and is pollinated by bats.

(Yoko M. Kakuta)

CHAPTER 2SIMPLE BOTANY OF PLANTS AND FLOWERS

In order to make an accurate drawing of a plant it is important to confirm its identity and check the diagnostic features of the family to which it belongs. This information will help you to know and understand the plant, its habit and its structure. It will also enable you to recognize when a particular plant is not typical of its kind. Informed decisions can be made whether to continue with the drawing or to search for a more acceptable specimen if the plant is not showing the correct diagnostic features. It is distressing to spend some time on a drawing only to find it is not typical of its species. The specimen may have too many or too few petals, it may be too tall or too small, or the leaves may not be the correct shape, making identification difficult from the completed drawing. Plants are affected by light, shade and moisture during their growing season, and it is not always possible to find the perfect specimen. Plant guidebooks will help to identify your specimen and will enable you to find out about its diagnostic features.

To help understand where plants fit in to the living world, we need to know some background botanical information.

The Plant Kingdom

Plants that produce seeds are called spermatophytes. The spermatophytes are divided into two groups: the gymnosperms and the angiosperms. The gymnosperm group produce naked seeds. These are seeds which are not enclosed but may be found within a cone; typical examples are the seeds of coniferous trees. The majority of plants that are drawn by botanical artists are angiosperms. These produce seeds which are enclosed within a fruit formed from the ovary.

The angiosperms can be further divided into flowering plants that are either monocotyledons or dicotyledons. These terms are usually abbreviated to monocots and dicots. The straightforward explanation of these terms is to remember mono for one and di for two, and cotyledon for seed leaf. When they germinate, the monocotyledonous seeds produce one seed leaf and the dicotyledonous seeds produce two seed leaves. The main features of monocotyledons and dicotyledons can be compared as follows:

Sequoia cones and naked seeds. (Julie Small)

Drawing of a monocotyledonous plant seedling. (Valerie Oxley)

Plants in the monocotyledonous group are generally easy to recognize because of their long straight leaves with parallel veins and flower parts based on multiples of three. Many are bulbous plants; examples are lily, narcissus, crocus and amaryllis. There are nearly always exceptions in nature, as in the case of the arum, which is a monocotyledonous plant although the leaf veins are branched.

There is more variation in numbers of parts when we look at plants in the dicotyledonous group. The veins are branched, and flower parts can be in fours or fives. An exception is the plantain, where the veins of the leaves are parallel.

Plant Structure

A plant usually consists of an underground root and an above-ground shoot.

The Root

In flowering plants the part below ground is generally a root. The main functions of the root are to anchor the plant, to take up water and minerals from the soil and to conduct them to the base of the stem for further transport towards the leaves.

Root hairs are usually present in a concentrated area just behind the root tips. They are single cell structures that are extensions of the outer root cells. Their function is to increase the root’s absorptive surface area and thus increase the uptake of water. New root hairs are formed behind the tip of the root as it grows, replacing older ones further back which gradually wither. The hairs are easily broken when plants are removed from the ground.

ROOT SYSTEMS

Root systems develop either as the fibrous adventitious roots of the monocotyledons or as a vertical taproot with lateral roots growing out from it, typical of the dicotyledons.

Mycorrhizal associations are relationships between fungi and the roots of almost all species of flowering plants. These associations can help the plant to take up nutrients and water from the soil. In exchange the fungi extract the sugars they need from the plants. This is known as a symbiotic association where both fungi and plant flourish.

Root nodules on leguminous plants such as clover and broad bean contain nitrogen-fixing bacteria. The nitrogen compounds which the bacteria produce are beneficial to the plant.

Drawing of a dahlia root showing root tubers. (Sylvia Ford)

Stem

The above-ground part of the plant, called the shoot, usually consists of the stem, leaves, flowers and fruits. The stem of the plant supports flowers and fruits and holds them upright to enable fertilization and seed dispersal respectively to take place. Stems usually bear buds and leaves at intervals. At the tip of the stem is the terminal bud, which is responsible for the elongation of the stem and initiates the growth and arrangement of branches and leaves. Axillary buds appear in the angle between the points of attachment of the leaf to the stem; this angle is known as the axil. The point of emergence of the leaf and bud is called a node, and the distance between two nodes is called an intern-ode. Stems can be herbaceous or woody. Woody stems may have a layer of bark on the outside, as with trees. Stems also perform the important function of transporting water and other materials through the plant.

Drawings of a dicotyledonous plant seedling. (Valerie Oxley)

Stems may show adaptations, for example they could appear as runners in the strawberry plant, rhizomes as in the iris, tubers as in the potato or corms as in the crocus.

Plants have evolved prickles, spines, thorns and hairs as a form of protection and defence. It is important that these structures are recorded carefully in a drawing, as they can be a form of identification of the plant.

An amazing variety of shapes will be found if you look closely at the hairs on stems and leaves with a hand lens or magnifying glass. Hairs can be simple one-celled structures or branched, forked, star-like, cobwebby, rough or smooth, long or short. They are usually for the protection of the plant from animals or from the sun; they can also catch moisture from the air. In many cases the presence or absence of hairs helps with the identification of the plant. The Latin name of the plant can often give a clue to its surface covering.

A variety of stems showing a range of plant defences. (Jo Edwards)

A selection of winter twigs showing variation in shape, size, colour and arrangement of the buds. (Jane Cowan)

Pen and ink studies of leaves showing a variety of shapes. (Ivy Bell)

Leaves

The main function of the leaf is to make food for the plant. Leaves can be adapted to protect the plant, and they can be coloured to help attract pollinators, as in the cornus. Leaves usually consist of a stalk known as a petiole, which leads to a flattened area known as the leaf blade or lamina.

Look carefully at the leaves on your plant before starting to draw. In many monocotyledonous plants the petiole does not exist, and the base of the leaves form a sheath around the base of the stem, as in tulips and daffodils. Some leaves have laminas that do not have a stalk, and the lamina joins the stem directly; these leaves are said to be sessile: some species of oak have sessile leaves. Leaves can be simple or compound and made up of two or more leaflets. Compound leaves can be palmate or pinnate. The leaf tip is called the apex, and the bottom of the leaf is called the base. The edge of the leaf is called the leaf margin. The leaf margin can show many variations: it can be serrated or smooth; leaves can be hairy or without hairs (leaves without hairs are said to be glabrous); leaves can be subtended by outgrowths from the node known as stipules: these are a diagnostic feature of the rose family.

Leaves can vary in size and shape. On individual plants the smallest leaves are usually found at the top of the shoot and the largest at the base. Although they may vary in shape, size and colour there are recognizable characteristics that link the leaves together. Leaves can vary in colour, with the new young yellow green leaves at the top of the plant and the older blue green ones at the base. Leaves are not always green, and there can be variations: some leaves are green on the topside and red underneath, as in some cyclamen. Leaves of deciduous trees often change colour in the autumn before they fall from the tree.

The arrangement of the leaves on the stem should be carefully observed. Look for different presentations; single leaves can be arranged alternately or opposite, and three or more leaves can appear in a cluster or whorl. Occasionally leaves are perfoliate, where two opposite sessile leaves join and the stem seems to go through the leaf blade.

The leaf buds of trees in winter are an important aid to the identification of individual trees. They can be alternately arranged along the stem, opposite, whorled or they may be clustered at the tip. They can vary in size, shape and colour and in the number of visible bud scales.

Flowers

Flowers are the reproductive structures of the plant. The plant is designed so that its flowers, which are usually conspicuous, occupy the most advantageous position to attract the appropriate pollinators. Where plants have more than one flower they may open in succession, thus extending the opportunities for pollination to take place.

A flowering shoot of Caltha polypetala. (Pamela Furniss)

Flower parts are usually arranged into four whorls. The outermost whorl is the calyx, made up of a collection of sepals; the next whorl is the corolla, made up of the petals; the third whorl is the androecium, made up of the stamens – the male part of the plant, and the central whorl is the gynoecium, made up of the carpels – the female part of the plant. The whorls sit on top of a receptacle or pedicel that bears the flowers, at the top of the stem.