In my memory, my grandmother sits knitting in a sunny bay window surrounded by her African violets. I wonder how many she had - fifty? - and they were always in excellent condition, blooming happily. Every month of so she would put newspapers on the big dining room table and transfer all the little pots over there for inspection, trimming, repotting if necessary. Some of the violets were on shelves in the windows, but there was also a Victorian multi-tiered iron plant stand with many swiveling arms that held some of her favorites.
In the winters, when she and my grandfather went to Florida for a couple of months, my mother and I would be in charge of watering the plants. As a little girl I remember wanting to help, but being given precise instructions about watering sparingly and only from the bottom, and never spilling water on the leaves. The special pots had wicks in the base that soaked up water slowly from the saucers to prevent -- I guess -- overwatering and root or crown rot. I was allowed to help, but always did it seriousness and a certain amount of trepidation. As a result I grew up thinking of African violets as fussy old lady plants and not very desirable. Though I certainly inherited my grandmother's green thumb, I've never yet had an African violet in my house.
That changed last week when we received this temporary visitor to care for while its owners are in Europe. Not only did it ask to have its portrait drawn, I think it's also telling me it's time to break down and get one or two of my own to fuss over, now that I'm clearly becoming an, ahem, older Victorian lady myself.
Oddly, they remind a bit of one of my most favorite woodland flowers of all, the hepatica. The leaves aren't similar, but the form and soft colors of the flower have an affinity. Better yet, they bloom all year round.
I just learned that African violets belong to the intriguingly-named genus Saintpaulia, are native to the cloud forests of Tanzania and Kenya, and that some of the species are endangered or threatened. They range from "micro" (3 inches or less in diameter) to "giant" (12-16 inches). Here's how they came to the attention of European botanists:
The genus is named after Baron Walter von Saint Paul-Illaire (1860–1910), the district commissioner of Tanga province who discovered the plant in Tanganyika (now Tanzania) in Africa in 1892 and sent seeds back to his father, an amateur botanist in Germany. Two British plant enthusiasts, Sir John Kirk and Reverend W.E. Taylor, had earlier collected and submitted specimens to the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, in 1884 and 1887 respectively, but the quality of specimens was insufficient to permit scientific description at that time. The genus Saintpaulia, and original species S. ionantha, were scientifically described by H. Wendland in 1893.
And I guess it's true about spilling water on the leaves:
Saintpaulias are highly sensitive to temperature changes, especially rapid leaf cooling. Spilling cold water on African violet leaves causes discoloration. This is thought to be because rapid leaf cooling causes cell vaculole collapse in the palisade mesophyll cells.
OK! I stand twice forewarned.
What a lovely story this is. And I love your illustrations! I have one African violet and have not taken good-enough care of it in recent years. I used to be much better about caring for my plants before we had a child. I seem to only have a certain amount of space for caring for things, alas.
Posted by: Rachel Barenblat | May 18, 2015 at 07:56 AM
Was just thinking about African violets, must be a sign of my own impending biddy-ness. The are of another era, like aspidrista and philodendron. What's next, antimaccasars?
I like your drawing very much; it captures the charm of these always- saucer-sized plants.
Posted by: Duchesse | May 18, 2015 at 06:09 PM
I had a lot of success with African violets when I lived in Switzerland. It's too warm to grow them where I live now, but people at higher elevations grow them successfully. A friend of mine has amazing ones. She lives in Amherst and has cultivated them for many years. They are very easy to propagate from cuttings.
It never occurred to me to consider them old fashioned!
Posted by: Hattie | May 19, 2015 at 03:57 PM
Are root and crown rot transferable to humans? I think I may have both if they encourage a liking for polysyllablism.
So you are a plant-sitter and your motives become clear. Should the African violet become compost you can offer its owner the painting. Smart. New World savvy.
Posted by: Roderick Robinson | May 23, 2015 at 02:25 AM