By Patrick O'Connor
Amazing
progress has been made in the relatively few years in which Louisiana irises
have been hybridized. Those stalwarts
who collected wild irises in swamps and along bayous and who began hybridizing
in the 1930s and 1940s would be hard pressed to recognize some of the newer
hybrids. Even those working in the 1980s
and 1990s surely would be surprised by their change in appearance and pleased
with improvements in performance as a good garden plant.
I generally
like the new irises and have been impressed by almost all. Those marked by the greatest transformation
in appearance of the flower, however, are not necessarily the ones I am
happiest to see every year. Don’t get me
wrong. Ruffling is great. Green styles can be pleasing. Signals on all parts add nice variation. Strong substance generally is a plus. Who can argue that a high bud count is not
better than a lower one?
There is
something to be said, however, for old friends, old forms, and for simplicity
and grace. I think those qualities may be what makes me
happy to see some favorite irises each year and to resist any urge to move them
out to make way for the new.
This
blog will be about some iris hangers-on.
A few are actually old, but others simply hearken back to the time before
the ruffling revolution, which really began not so long ago. Even some new irises channel the quintessence
of the wild ones and reinforce a prime directive for Louisiana irises: There are a variety of pleasing forms, not a
single model for a good iris. And, it
should be added, it is the appearance and performance of an iris in the garden
that is the real test of its quality.
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'Plum Good' |
A good
place to start is ‘Plum Good’ (Nelson,
2001). This iris was developed by the
late Ira S. Nelson, probably in the 1950s, but was only registered by his widow
Barbara many years later. The intensity
of the plum red color and bright yellow arrowhead signal make this one striking
iris. The form is a bit open and
slightly flaring, creating a bold but airy effect in the garden. Many old irises drift away, but iris
gardeners have refused to let this one go.
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'Acadian' |
If red
is your color, ‘Acadian’ (Conger,
1956) remains appealing. It was
registered as “violet rose” but I don’t see that. To me, the falls are distinctly red heavily overlaid
with wine veining. True, the standards
are a lighter color, and violet rose may be accurate, but the overall effect of
the flower is a textured red. I don’t
know of anything else quite like it even after all these years.
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'It's A Boy' |
Dorman Haymon’s
‘It’s A Boy’ (Haymon, 1989) is an
overlooked iris. It is a clear lavender
blue with a strong yellow arrowhead signal outlined deep blue. The flower form is open. The registration blurb tags this iris as
blooming at midseason, but after three years I have yet to find that
accurate. It is one of the last irises
of the season, and it thus recommends itself to the procrastinating yet discriminating
hybridizer. ‘It’s A Boy’ provides a very
beautiful and welcome surprise when the bloom season seems almost over.
|
'Velvet Memory' |
Color
distinguishes ‘Velvet Memory’
(Morgan, R, 1994) and I look forward to seeing its face every year. Richard Morgan registered it as “dark red
violet” and I can’t disagree as far as that goes. But there is something about the tone that is
distinct. I have called it violet purple
but that probably is no more accurate.
I’m not sure that my pictures or monitor capture the color or that any
other iris has duplicated it.
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'Morgan's Dixie' |
My
current favorite Richard Morgan iris is ‘Morgan’s
Dixie’ (Morgan, by Melody and Jerry Wilhoit, 2009). It is a short bright gold that is edged terracotta. It provides a vivid-to-nearly-blinding patch
of orange in the garden. This, as they
say, as one that you can’t pass by, but partly that’s because it reaches out
and grabs you by the ankles. I cannot
imagine a replacement for this one.
‘Morgan’s Dixie’ proves that an iris does not have to be tall to stand
tall.
|
'Creole Canary' |
Double
Louisiana irises may be an acquired taste and if so, I have acquired it. They are oddities, really, and perhaps are
best enjoyed if few in number. One I
like is ‘Creole Canary’ (Granger,
1976). It is “double” in the extreme, having six
falls and a bunch of extra petaloids too numerous to count precisely. One might say it’s a mess. It is, but I enjoy looking at it every year.
|
"Henry Rowlan' |
‘Henry Rowlan’ (M. D. Faith, 2000) is hardly an
oldie, but it demonstrates that a clean, simple form devoid of ruffling (much
less doubling) retains a strong appeal.
This is a gorgeous velvety purple iris that I never expect to
replace. The contrasting bright yellow
of the crown signal is striking. Someday
this totally unruffled form may represent the new novelty iris.
As might be expected, I am attached to several of my own hybrids. I still like these, but they may not grab others. They include ‘Barataria’ (2002), ‘Little Woods’ (2004), ‘Gentilly’ (2003), ‘Cocodrie’ (2013), ‘When Pigs Fly’ (2013) and ‘Zydeco’ (1999).
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'Baratria' |
‘Barataria’ is one of those irises that do not have show stalks, but they are produced in such profusion that a clump provides a color blast approaching that of a blooming azalea. The day-glo rose color and contrasting white styles are an early highlight in the garden. ‘Little Woods’ is a softer color – a warm rose – that is best appreciated close up. The styles and signals have a subtle greenish cast and a line of deeper rose decorates the center of the falls. One of the best smaller Louisiana irises.
|
'Little Woods' |
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'Cocodrie' |
‘Cocodrie’ defies the demand for
overlapping petals but its flaring form, orange color and decorative signals
underline the Louisiana standard that many forms are fine. This is another iris that slows your stroll
down the garden path. ‘When Pigs Fly’ exerts the same pull
with a unique combination of pearly pink and yellow signals outlined by bright fuchsia. This iris was named for its possibility of
winning a Dykes, but at least there is no mistaking this one for any other. It’s a fun iris.
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'When Pigs Fly' |
‘Gentilly’ is a favorite due to its soft
peach tones and tastefully decorated styles showing a hint of green but tipped
rose, and with a yellow signal outlined deep orange. That may sound busy but the color contrasts
are subtle, not garish. This iris is best
enjoyed out of the full blast of all day sunlight. It definitely does benefit from partial
shade.
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'Gentilly' |
‘Zydeco’ returned to form this year when
planted again in a garden bed rather than under water culture. There aren’t many, but a few Louisiana irises
prefer to grow in a garden bed rather than in the bogs I create with drainless
containers. ‘Zydeco’ is a bright burnt
orange self that deserves to be treated the way it wants.
|
'Zydeco' |
Perhaps eventually
I will tire of some of these old iris friends, as I have others. I do like to think they retain some of the character
of their wild ancestors. It has become
clear that the genetic possibilities for development and transformation of Louisiana
irises are practically limitless.
Someday they may be unrecognizable as products of the natural
world. I hope that future Louisianas
maintain qualities that reflect the essence of their natural heritage, and that
we will not be entirely dazzled by beautiful images more likely to inhabit the
far end of a kaleidoscope.