Sound and Stills in the Botanical Gardens
Ideas and Memories from Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota
On February 13th, we flew to Sarasota to perform at the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens. Leaving the snowstorm of NYC, after delayed flights and airport trouble, we were welcomed by the warmth of the Florida sunshine and the kindness of the garden’s president and CEO, Jennifer Rominiecki.
On Valentine’s day morning I went with my mom and Tony to Coquina Beach where we visited the Bay on the Gulf of Mexico. The water was very cold but my mom took off her boots, rolled up her jeans, and walked into the beautiful aqua blue. Tony and I watched from the powdery white sand on the shore. I drew a heart for you all.Â
That evening, Jennifer and her husband Rob brought me to the Sarasota Opera to see the last dress rehearsal of Georges Bizet’s Carmen. Fiery red in her beautiful frocks and gowns, this was the perfect opera and experience for Valentine’s Day night. A few days before, my mom showed me the classic performance of Maria Callas singing the aria, Séguedille, in Hamburg 1962. I thought of Maria during the show, and of Chelsea Laggan, Sarasota’s Carmen, studying Maria in preparation. The singers were incredible, their powerful voices reaching every corner of the concert hall, and it was so fascinating to hear the final directions and notes given to the orchestra musicians by the conductor, Victor DeRenzi. Victor has his own amazing history, being the only person to conduct every note of Giuseppe Verdi’s compositions. I was able to meet him for a moment during one of the 3 intermissions, and he gave me a copy of a book sharing the story of his work and journey with Verdi’s music.Â
The next day, we made our way to the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens, where we were able to tour the grounds of the garden and see their bran new exhibit, Yayoi Kusama: A Letter to Georgia O’Keeffe.Â
‘In the mid-1950s, Yayoi Kusama was a young artist living in Japan, where her future was very uncertain. Seeking advice from a more established female artist, Kusama wrote to Georgia O’Keeffe, whose work she greatly admired but whom she had never met. To Kusama’s surprise, O’Keeffe responded, thus establishing a correspondence that gave the young Japanese artist the courage to move to America and pursue her career in New York City, which was then the center of the art world. Kusama’s decision, with O’Keeffe’s encouragement, forever changed the course of modern art history. This show will also explore the ways in which the work of both artists is rooted in nature.’
The concert we played that evening served to help open this new exhibit, and the readings and songs were connected to Georgia and Kusama, their shared story and the threads of their individual lives and work. My mom read some words written by Georgia, about the sky and her process, and they connected with Kusama’s words printed on the yellow gallery wall, about infinity and her intentions. She read a poem she had written for Georgia when she was in her early twenties. There was lightness and there was intensity, both a joyful celebration and nod of deep appreciation. Â
Hearing my mom read from Georgia’s love letters to Alfred Stieglitz, hearing her sing ‘Georgia On My Mind,’ all reminded me of our event we did for Georgia and Alfred at the Met Museum in 2011. I thought of all the incredible synergies taking place around me, the dots that were connecting, the aliveness of connection and correlation that make time feel so irrelevant and elastic. It was a beautiful day.
My favorite part of touring the garden, along with being next to the water and surrounded by the living plants, was seeing the garden’s very own laboratory and research library. Â
The library houses approximately 7,000 volumes, including a rare book collection dating to the late 1700s, 14,000 issues of scientific journals, and 2,500 microfiche of early botanical references and herbaria.
Their Herbarium consists of over 115,000 specialized collections of tropical flora, largely neotropical, with an emphasis on epiphytes.Â
The Spirit Collection contains approximately 35,000 vials of flowers and other plant parts in preservative fluids making it the largest such collection in the western hemisphere and second largest in the world (after Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, U.K.).Â
**In case you are interested, as a teacher, student, educator, plant lover, botanist, artist, or interested and curious individual for any reason, here are the garden’s Complimentary Teacher Resources for you to explore.**Â
Talking with Jennifer, the garden’s President and CEO, I learned that she had moved over to Selby from the New York Botanical Garden, one of my favorite places to visit in New York. For a few years starting when I was around 18, I took many classes at their Bronx garden, and later at their midtown education center when it first opened in 2010. I took courses in gardening fundamentals, raised bed gardening, plant science, and botany. Classes on plant structure, dendrology, native flora in each season, leaf identification. I went to lectures and presentations on landscape design, green roofs, and green walls. I wanted to go for the Botany certification, I wanted to study Therapeutic Horticulture. I wanted to learn it all. During this exciting time, the course I was immersed in for the longest was Botanical Art Illustration, a professional certificate course training individuals in the techniques of scientifically accurate botanical illustration.Â
My dream in this incredible course was to learn and master each level, with the eventual goal to be able to take the tree drawing course, developing the skill to accurately and beautifully depict trees, their bark and leaves, their branches, their flowers and fruits. In my first attempt, I was able to get through Levels I and II, but Level III was just a little too advanced for me. Unable to master the final drawing assignment of Level III, I started over at the beginning, eager to learn more and try again. I really loved both of my passes through this course, learning so much from both instructors. I loved the basics of learning to shade, to build layers, how to create the sensation of natural movement and 3-dimension. More than anything, I especially loved drawing leaves. Though once again, I found myself back at that same moment, the final project of Level III, and I just couldn’t get it. By that point I felt frustrated though I realized my limitations, and also my intentionality. I decided I had learned all that I needed from the course, and to be excited and thankful for the experience.
Moving forward, I noticed many times how the subtle lessons and skills I acquired during that time had enhanced my life, in both noticeable and silent ways. A deeper and more profound appreciation of many things, those found in nature, and those expressed by humans. I really love drawing, the delicate power of graphite, and the richness and lushness of colored pencils. I still love my colored pencils. <3 I also love my pencil sharpener, a Panasonic electric sharpener that was on the materials list before I started the first class. Panasonic doesn’t make this particular sharpener anymore, and a few years ago an illustrator told me how highly coveted it is. You can still find them on Ebay and other vintage sites, and mine still happily resides on my desk since I bought it new so many years ago.
Being in the research library and laboratory at Selby Gardens reminded me of these years learning at New York Botanical Garden. The books, the illustrations and specimen collections, volumes of data from centuries past. The microscopes. It might sound surprising, but one of the tools I loved most in my life was my digital microscope. After using one in my plant specimen classes at NYBG, so moved by the magic of each discovery on a new slide, I received my own microscope as a present. I spent hours upon hours using it, deeply immersed, constantly collecting new specimens to view and dissect - a piece of skin from a fruit, a section from a leaf, different types of ink, water from a favorite source, leaves from many trees, sand from the beach, anything at all. The best aspect of my microscope was its ability to photograph and film using its digital screen. I amassed a collection of hundreds of photos and videos, amazed by them, studying them, moved by everything I saw.Â
Many years later after first receiving my microscope, I was in Arizona for a Pathway to Paris event in 2019. One night during our week-long stay, a local astronomy group set up telescopes for attendees to view the stars and visible planets. We were told that we’d be able to see Saturn, and I waited in line for my turn. I put my face to the lens, and the moment the planet came into view, my eyes welled up with tears. It was so tiny and perfect, its beautiful rings visible just as we all knew them from childhood textbooks and posters, like an old friend I’d never met in person. It was so teeny tiny and so clear, so still, as though I could reach through the lens and pluck it out, to hold in my hand like a little figurine. It was truly incredible and complete magic.Â
Speaking to my friend’s brother who was there with us, I learned he was a mechanical engineer and astrophotographer, taking photos on the macro scale. I told him about my microscope pictures, and we brainstormed an idea to do a gallery show together, incorporating his macro photography and my micro photography. We honed in on the details and concept, and we couldn't wait to get home to review our portfolios and get to work.Â
I hadn’t used my microscope for some time, and as soon as I got home, I excitedly removed it from its protective case and plugged it in, eager to review my folder of images and films. Something strange was happening though, and it wouldn’t advance beyond the home screen. After hours of troubleshooting, and days of customer service help, it seemed that my poor microscope had suddenly become obsolete technology, unable to communicate with my computer, and no longer able to function on its own. I was devastated to lose all of my magical pictures and videos, not backed up anywhere, and never to be seen again.Â
When I saw the laboratory at the botanical garden, I looked though its window and I remembered my own microscope and the joy it had brought me. I thought about my dreams of getting my Botany certificate and passing Level III of Botanical Illustration. I thought about that exciting dream of having the exhibit together with my new astrophotographer friend. I felt sad for just a moment, and then smiled about those memories, because I had immersed myself so fully in those passionate dreams, and I had loved every moment of it all.Â
That doesn’t mean they were meant to be my destiny, and that is always okay. There is always a reason we are drawn to things at different times and moments of our lives. Sometimes the lessons are obvious and clear, and other times they don’t reveal themselves to us for years or decades to come. The real beauty though is to follow our hearts at all times without worry, without apology, and without the need to explain why. If it feels right in our hearts and we are able to do it, if it’s not hurting anybody, and if our intentions are sound, then it's always the perfect song to sing.Â
I am so grateful to Jennifer and to everyone at the Selby Gardens, and I truly look forward so very much to continuing with this new story, as there are many threads to follow. With a passion for climate action and innovative ideas, this beautiful place is setting an example for institutions around the world. As part of their mission, ‘Selby Gardens will have the only botanical garden complex in the world boasting a Net Positive energy rating– meaning the buildings will generate more energy than they consume.’ This ‘Living Museum’ is a true inspiration and shows what is possible when our courage, innovation, passion, creativity, and intentionality are all in sync. Doing so with kindness and a deep appreciation for the arts and music has created a place where the possibilities are endless. I look so forward to exploring more what those can be!
Have a great day and thank you for reading!!
such a wonderful post -- sharing your journey and most importantly - reminding all - "Sometimes the lessons are obvious and clear, and other times they don’t reveal themselves to use for years or decades to come. The real beauty though is to follow our hearts at all times without worry, without apology, and without the need to explain why."
Thank you for the memory tour. It was all wonderful. Walking by the sea, performing with you and Tony by the garden, learning about the young Kusama and saluting Georgia 🌻🌻🌻