Iris Identification: A Puzzle and a Problem

by Bob Pries

A short time ago I was asked if I could identify an iris. When I looked at the picture I thought “Wow, this is one I would love to grow also.” My favorite colors are brown and blue so I was eager to find the answer.

 Unknown iris

One of the first steps I took was to complete a reverse image search in Google Images. It is simple. You go to images.google.com and click on the camera icon in the search box.  A screen will open to search by image. I chose the option to upload the image I saved.

The camera icon is shown above the arrow

Instantly Google Images gives you the 30 best matches. On my first try the image did not appear and the choices were interesting but barely similar. But I tried again later and to my delight the exact image appeared as the first choice. There several things to try next and each might head me in a different direction.  So I looked at the image Google had chosen at the top of the page and clicked on it. I noted that below that top image it noted there were 264 pages that featured this image.

Google Image search results

When I clicked on the search result, Google displayed each result for the image with the URL and title. Almost all the pages featuring this image were ads for various irises (most of which had no relation at all to the iris of interest.) But one search result caught my eye. It was Dave’s Garden and appeared to have a cultivar name attached. I clicked on the image and the Dave’s Garden page came up with a description for an intermediate iris named ‘Wrong Song.'  At last, I had a name!

Just to be sure, I searched for ‘Wrong Song’ in the Iris Encyclopedia, a wiki of the American Iris Society. This wiki is a comprehensive encyclopedic source of iris information and is curated by persons who serve as docents for iris-specific content. To my consternation, an iris with a very different appearance appeared in the encyclopedia entry for 'Wrong Song.' 

Iris 'Wrong Song' in the Iris Encyclopedia

The shape and color patterning were very close, but it seemed obvious that the image I was trying to identify had been colorized and photo-shopped to appear very different. My mind started thinking about the 264 internet pages that were using this altered picture. Although many were just using it as a generic iris picture, others were terribly misrepresenting this iris ‘Wrong Song.’ My heart started to hurt. You see, this isn't the first time people have been singing the wrong song about an iris. 

When the American Iris Society (AIS) was formed in the 1920s, one of its main goals was to clear up iris identification. Today the central mission of the AIS is to register irises. Registration provides a unique name for an iris and is accompanied by an official description. The goal is to prevent two different irises from having the same name or for any one iris to be given several names making communication difficult. 

It took two decades of work in the nineteen twenties and thirties to straighten out the many names that had been casually used for irises. The AIS had to plant test gardens and consult historical descriptions to determine which names were the most legitimate for which irises. It is discouraging to discover two irises on the internet today with the same name. One is the accurate registered iris, and the other is a mythical, colorized-version of the original.

There are a number of iris photos that have been colorized and published on the internet. Some, like the one I searched for, are quite beautiful. However, we should avoid naming a heavily-altered photo using the name of the iris from which it was derived. Someone purchasing an iris by this name may suffer sadness when the iris does not live up to their expectations.

An Iris by Any Other Name

by Tom Waters

'Catchy Name' (Seligmann, 1983)

One of the things you may notice about serious iris enthusiasts (sometimes known as “irisarians”), as opposed to gardeners who casually grow a few, is an obsession with names. We go around earnestly correcting the names of irises people share on line or in person, sometimes even to the point of calling out minor spelling errors.

What is this about? Surely the flower’s loveliness and welcome presence in our gardens doesn’t depend on its name. Why is it so important to some of us enthusiasts?

It’s one of those things that most of us get very much indoctrinated about, early on in the learning process, as the iris hobby becomes more and more serious. It’s been part of iris culture for generations.

At one time, you see, names were in a state of chaos. The same plant would be passed around under any number of different names, and similar plants were sold or shared under the same name. Names would be casually translated from one language to another, with no one quite sure if they were meant to refer to the same plant or not. One of the first goals of the American Iris Society in the 1920s was to try to straighten out the confusion, by carefully documenting names from old magazine articles and catalogs and compiling a checklist. The American Iris Society is the international registration authority for all irises except those that grow from bulbs (like Dutch Iris and reticulatas). Ideally, every name is registered with the AIS along with a careful description before the iris it belongs to is sold or shared.

Iris pallida variegata, sometimes grown under the incorrect name "Zebra"

Without this care, the names become practically meaningless, and one cannot reliably purchase a particular cultivar or discuss its qualities with other growers.

This is especially important because so many irises resemble others, at least at first glance. Casual gardeners may be inclined to think that all pink irises are the same, or that the one they just bought from a garden center is “the same iris” grandma grew years ago, because they are both purple.

Any time an iris is sold or shared under an incorrect name, it makes headaches for those further down the line who want to know which iris they actually have.

Irises whose names are unknown are these days often called “noids” (for “no ID”). The term is cute and memorable, but alas it’s too close to the name of a well-known hybridizer of some decades past, Luella Noyd, so I prefer to avoid it. I’ve also seen them spoken of as UFOs (unidentified flowering objects).

 

The Internet has taken the problem of identifying irises to a whole new level. It has made it 100 times easier to get information on any subject, but 10,000 easier to get bad information on any subject, it seems. Every day, people post photos of irises asking for the name, and often just accept the first answer someone throws out. That can be worse than having no answer at all!

Very few irises are so distinctive that they can be unambiguously identified at a glance from a single photo. The only way to check a tentative identification is to acquire the true plant from a reliable source and grow it alongside your own. They should be identical in detail.

BB 'Oops' (Craig, 2003)

So what is a “reliable source”? The “big box” stores are notorious in selling mislabeled irises. Local garden centers are better, but still make quite a few mistakes. Iris sellers on Ebay are all over the map in terms of reliability. Your best bet is to stick to sellers who specialize in irises. Even that is not foolproof. A few years ago, I ordered the iris ‘Orange Crush’ from an iris grower with impeccable credentials. When it bloomed, it was not even the right color! I wrote to him and inquired about it. It turns out he grows his plants in alphabetical order, and the one I got was the previous one in the alphabet. Its name? ‘Oops’. That gave us a chuckle.

Some name confusions have been going on for so long that it can be quite difficult to sort them out. When I started growing irises in Las Cruces, New Mexico, in the 1970s, a number of local growers had a historic iris ‘Mme. Chereau’. We all loved it, not least because it had been around since 1844! It turned out the plant we were all growing was actually an even older cultivar, ‘Swerti’. But because we had all seen it in each others’ gardens, we “knew” it was ‘Mme. Chereau’.  A photo of the impostor even made it into the American Iris Society book, The World of Irises, showing how difficult it can be to be sure of identifications, even on the best authority.

'Mme. Chereau' (Lemon, 1844)
photo: Mike Starhill

'Swerti'

Aware of this long-standing confusion, I resolved a couple years ago to grow these two irises in my garden and familiarize myself with their differences. Ironically, the ‘Mme. Chereau’ I acquired to make the comparison turned out to be – you guessed it! – ‘Swerti’.

A word of caution: The on-line Iris Encyclopedia, although hosted by the American Iris Society, is (like Wikipedia) maintained by users, and is not authoritative. The entries for some irises have incorrect photos.

For older irises, the Historic Iris Preservation Society is the best source of identification expertise. HIPS is home to experts who have made identification of older cultivars into a passion, delving into the subject with persistence and dedication, unearthing old photographs, documents, and descriptions. There are some confusions so old and entrenched, however, that even the experts can hold different views. Some irises have had whole articles and book chapters written about them, as researchers struggle to sort out their identity.

But you don’t have to be an expert to help with the problem of misidentified irises. Anyone can help by following one simple rule: don’t pass an iris around unless you are sure it is correctly named. If it came to you without a name, this will often mean growing the real thing side by side with your orphan. Even passing an iris on saying that you don’t know its name is not a good idea. Inevitably, someone down the line will be growing it and decide they “know” what it is anyway!

A second bit of advice: Don’t become indignant or defensive when someone tells you your iris is misidentified. It’s not a criticism, it’s a gift of better information than you had before! A thank-you is the appropriate response.

unidentified yellow TB

Some growers just destroy anything they are not sure of. That’s one way solve the problem, but sometimes an unidentified iris just pleads with you to give it a home. When we moved into our present house, there were some irises growing on the property. They turned out to be a yellow tall bearded, apparently of mid-twentieth-century vintage. They outperform almost everything else I grow, with tall stalks, clear color, and a long period of bloom. It’s hard to say good-bye to one of the best irises you have! I suspect this iris is the classic variety ‘Ola Kala’, but I will not share it under that name until such time as it passes the side-by-side test.

What's in a Name?

By Heather Pryor


I am always interested in the names that hybridisers choose for their iris cultivar seedlings. Many of these names can tell you a lot about the hybridiser - his or her likes and dislikes - or their sense of humour and interests.

 For example, in 2012 Bernard (my husband and fellow hybridizer) and I were asked by The Royal Horticultural Society of New South Wales Inc. to name one of our Louisiana iris seedlings for the 150th anniversary of the Society. The RHS of NSW was the first horticultural Society in the new colony of New South Wales and was founded in 1862 - some 40 years before the federation of the Australian colonies into the Commonwealth of Australia on 1901. The Society's members over the decades have read like a 'who's who' of early pioneers in horticulture in Australia. The Governors of New South Wales (the representative of His or Her Majesty over the years) have been the Patron of the Society since 1862. This was pretty heady stuff for a couple of Louisiana iris hybridisers from Sydney, I can tell you, but we rose to the challenge and provided a delightful seedling for the task. A celebratory rose was also chosen for this special event. The colours of the Society are 'ruby and gold', so the name 'Bennelong Gold' was chosen for the golden-coloured rose and the name 'Bennelong Ruby' was chosen for the two-toned ruby Louisiana iris pressed into service for this special event.

'Bennelong Ruby'

But why was the prefix 'Bennelong'used? 'Bennelong' was one of the first indigenous Australians to make meaningful contact with the first Governor, Governor Arthur Phillip, when the first European-based settlement was established in Sydney Cove in 1788. Governor Phillip was a bit of a linguist, having mastered many European-based languages before taking on the task of governing and co-ordinating the new settlement in what was then known as 'Terra Australis' or 'the great southern land'. Despite his linguistic talent, Phillip could not make much progress with the local Aboriginal dialect, but the young indigenous aboriginal, 'Bennelong,' was a natural at languages and he soon learned rudimentary English. He acted as a translator (both culturally and linguistically). His efforts were rewarded with a Governor providing 'Bennelong' with a small hut of wattle and daub construction on a small headland in Sydney Harbour, where he lived out his life in relative luxury. This headland is now known as Bennelong Point - and is the current site for the famous Sydney Opera House.

The word 'Bennelong' therefore had great historical and cultural importance for Sydney, New South Wales and ultimately, the Commonwealth of Australia. Most tourists to Sydney either visit the Opera House or at least take a stroll around Bennelong Point during their visit. The combination of the name 'Bennelong' with the colours of The RHS of NSW Inc. (ruby and gold) seemed like a perfect fit for us.

'Bennelong Ruby' is a new release for Iris Haven this year, having been first made available via The Royal Horticultural Society of NSW Inc. in 2012. Rhizomes of 'Bennelong Ruby' are growing in the gardens of Government House, which itself sits just above Bennelong Point in Sydney. So, what's in a name? A powerful lot of interesting history, if nothing else!

Knightly Pursuits

By J. Griffin Crump

For the last several weeks,  I’ve been engaged in one of the most challenging  --  if not the most challenging  --  aspects of hybridizing, which is finding names for the new introductions.

I hasten to acknowledge that this may be a more difficult task for some than for others.  I have a friend, for instance, who readily offers such suggestions as “Hubcap” or “Fence Post”.  I’ve stopped asking him for help.

The truth is, I’m picky.  If an iris is worthy of introduction, I want it to bear a name that expresses the quality that I see in it.  Admittedly, that’s very subjective.  A hybridizer friend of mine insists, quite prescriptively,  that the name should describe the iris, i.e., the way it looks.  I asked him why, then, did he name one of his irises “Blue Bunny”.  Who’s ever seen a blue bunny?  He said it looked just like a soft toy that he had as a child.  I would never have guessed.  (Don’t look up "Blue Bunny”.  I’ve disguised the name.)

The fact of the matter is that if I had to place a bet, every time, that the name I first choose for a new introduction won’t already have been taken, I’d not only be broke, but deeply in debt.

I have learned the hard way (i.e., by being gently informed by the Registrar that the chosen name appears in the 1939 or 1949 Checklist, which I had forgotten to consult) that if one thinks of a name from the classics of literature or music, it’s almost certain to have been taken already more than half a century ago.  Our predecessors were really enamoured of the classics.  Most recently, I encountered this fact when, stumbling across the name of one of the knights of King Arthur’s round table, I wondered how many of those knights may have graced our gardens over the years.  Setting out on my quest, I scoured the Checklists and found almost the entire court of Camelot!

Now, actually, there were, in the annals, so many knights of the round table that, had they all shown up for a big feed at the same time, they’d have had to eat in shifts  --  unless Merlin might have been called upon to do something about the size of the table.  But withal the abundance of knights, only about a dozen figured prominently in the Arthurian tales, and two-thirds of them are found in the Checklists.

First, of course, is Arthur himself, as ‘King Arthur’ (Kirk, N., R. 1931).  Then 'Gawain' (Burtner, N., R. 1934). 'Sir Galahad' (Shull, 1924) was one of the earliest to appear.  Percivale shows up both as 'Sir Perceval' (Wing, 1937) and in his Wagnerian form as 'Parsifal' (Mor. N., R. 1928).  Tristan, too, is there in his Germanic form of 'Tristram' (Bliss 1919), as well as his beloved Isolde, first as 'Isolde' (Cap. 1902), then as 'Isolda' (Van T. 1916).  The registrars apparently were more forgiving in those days.  And 'Sir Launfal' (Kirk 1939) is there, but not his fairy princess, Tryamour.  Too bad.

Arthur’s sword, 'Excalibur' (Mur. 1925) is there, as is the 'Lady of the Lake' (C.A. Wright, 1948), who gave it to him, under her name 'Viviane' (Cay. 1937) as well, but maybe also as 'Vivian' (Cap. 1902) and 'Vivian II' (Cap. 1901), but surely as 'Fée Viviane' (the fairy Viviane) (Bernard Laporte, R. 2004).  And, unlike all the others above, for her we have a photo!

'Fée Viviane' photo by Alain Franco

                                                                   

Other figures and places of the Arthurian legend are also to be found.  Pendragon (Bliss, 1920), the name borne by both Arthur and his father, Uther.  Merlin (Sturt. 1918), of course.  Morgan Le Fay (Gers. N. R. 1938), the enchantresse, half-sister of Arthur.  And Avalon (Sturt. 1918), the mystical isle to which Arthur is borne fatally wounded.

But, wouldn’t you know, soaking up the limelight comes Lancelot (Bliss, 1919), Sir Lancelot (Gard. And Flow. 232, July 1937), Sir Launcelot (Sass-J. 1935) and, finally Messire Lancelot (Bernard LaPorte, R. 2004) with a photo!

'Messire Lancelot"  Photo by Dejoux

And what would Lancelot be without Guinevere (Barr, 1919), and again Guinevere (Elm Jensen, R. 1986), whom Merlin is said to have brought from Ireland and who wreaked havoc in Camelot.

'Guinevere' Photo by Elm Jensen

Funny, she doesn’t look Irish.
But there you are.

Can you think of any interesting names for new irises?  

Those Puzzling Iris Names

By Griff Crump

Some time ago  --  a few years, actually  --  the question arose on iris@hort.net as to why the various species of iris are named as they are. A whole list of puzzlers had been submitted. 

I. tectorum

While most irisarians have heard that I.tectorum means “iris of roofs” or “roof iris”, stemming from the Japanese practice of growing them on their roofs (although I have seen that explanation disputed), the meanings of other names remained obscure. Being the compulsively helpful person that I am, I offered the following explanations for some of them, which I repeat here for those who are not iris@hort.net veterans:

attica -- similar to tectorum, but grows beneath the roof

subbiflora -- same as attica, but two floors down

mandschurica -- a variety, candidans mandschurica, will sit quietly in your

garden for years, then suddenly burst into bloom

acutiloba -- smelling this one can give you a very bad case of iloba

barnumae -- a real circus of color

bismarkiana  --  though plantings may be dispersed, this one will

consolidate and take over your garden

gatesii --  to be planted at the entrance to your garden, of course

hookeriana  --  (ahem, well . . .)

wattii -- in sufficient quantity, this becomes known as voltii

minutoaurea  -- a little bull goes a long way

odaesanensis -- comes from Odessa, but ran into a spelling problem

bulleyana -- crowds out other flowers

innominata -- Linnaeus lost the tag; very common; most of us have some

nelsonii  -- British; has only one branch

crocea -- Kasparek reject, who, looking at it, said "That's a croc."

ludwigii -- first cousin to hartwegii

foetidissima -- a real stinker

bungei -- you can't get rid of this one; it just keeps coming back

farreri -- Italian, misspelled

lazica  --  has to be staked

aitchisonii -- named after the well-known railroad town  (Aitchison, Topeka

and the Sa-anta Fe)

hartwegii -- first cousin to ludwigii

galactica -- honoring the Battlestar of the same name

stenophylla -- a nice present for your secretary

stocksii -- you buy this one when bondsii is too pricey

zaprjagajewii -- named for its discoverer, a Cossack who fell into a clump

of it when his horse missed a steppe

No doubt others among us have explanations for some of the rest.  


You can see the names of all the species irises and many beautiful photos of them at the Species Iris Group of North America (SIGNA) website.


Editor's Note:  Griff invites you to add your own "definitions" for iris species names in the comments section.  Be sure to keep it clean and, above all, funny!