I had the pleasure of attending the 2007 Philadelphia Flower Show in the final of its 8-day run from the 4th to the 11th this past Sunday. I use pleasure in the most sensuous sense; walking into the Convention Center in the final throws of all its horticultural splendor, one is met by a kind of photosynthetic explosion with colors, fragrances, textures, palpable earthiness, and the sound of hundreds of other people expressing their feelings on all manner of things botanical; no sense is left un-bombarded for very long.

There is a hierarchy to the flashiness: at first I was drawn to the large competition pieces at the far right of the center. There were paths filled with the most delicious-smelling hyacinths—I admit my favorite flower—I had ever encountered, all neatly labeled with little green placards: Amethyst, Blue Jacket, Carnegie, City of Haarlem, Delft blue, Fondant, Gypsy Queen, Jan Bos, L’Innocence, Peter Stuyvesant, Splendid Cornelia, Woodstock. Of course to my own personal taxonomic system, the varieties ran something like pink, dark bluish, white, soft yellow, pinkish, orange, fuchsia, white, royal blue, light pink, win red. The Netherlands American Business Association had quite a display of its own (“Holland Land of Flowers”) boasting tulips of various glorious colors as well, with a little path down the middle for walking, and naturally a line of people waiting patiently to walk through. Yes, patiently. There is an etiquette attached to achieving smelling range of a flower, and everyone was both mindful and respectful of it; everyone being, not just classy members of the AARP or only the most committed horticulturalists, but rather no clear demographic of convention-goers. This was perhaps one of the best aspects of the flower show, and one I don’t know if I can account for: somehow, in some crazy way, the allure of a warehouse-sized space filled with flowers is quite possibly the closest thing to a democratic space I have ever walked around in.

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Though despite the wonderful variety of audience, there was a certain cultural hegemony imposed by this year’s theme (“Legends of Ireland”), and many of the major attractions of the show crafted their floral pieces around tropes from Irish folklore. Jamie Rothstein Floral Design had an interesting mixture of pyrotechnics and plants with “Rainbow,” which the show’s website describes most aptly: “A winding path leads to a spherical fountain that stands as the central rainbow element of this exhibit. It is surrounded by several monochromatic vignettes of flowers that represent the colors of a rainbow.” Not far from that was the Lamsback Floral Decorations exhibit, “Pretty in Pink,” composed mainly of pink tulips fashioned in the form of trees - an interesting combination of known botanical forms blended into something utterly new. It was well-lit, too, and distinguished as having won the “Pennsylvania Horticultural Society Council Trophy” as well as a “Special Achievement Award of the Garden Club Federation of Pennsylvania.”

Most exquisite of all was the approach from behind of what appeared to be the ruins of a church, filled with greenery, roses, and more roses; thinking it unsurpassed in sight and smell, and then realizing it to be none other than “The Rose of Glendalough,” the Best in Show Winner and PNC People’s Choice Award (democratization of horticulture I say!) recipient, designed by Celtic Gardens of Dexter, MI. It was not merely the structuring of beautiful plants around an Irish theme, but an attempted recreation of a historical moment, which I found out later in the pamphlet offered near the exhibit:

In Glendalough, vestiges of a rich ecclesiastical history create the bones of one of Ireland’s most prized sites. More than 1400 years, St. Kevin retreated to this pristine mountainous landscape and founded a Catholic community. This hamlet is shrouded in beauty, mystery, and tranquility. Now in ruins, the monastery, the chapels, the round tower and the walls remind the guest that they are on Holy Ground. The site which was a sophisticated centre of worship, learning and artistic enterprise, is slowly returning to a natural landscape. Always erring on the side of beauty, nature has an amazing ability to adapt and recreate itself—to overcome and reclaim the works of man and, indeed, incorporate those works into its own.

These larger exhibits of competition truly dedicated themselves to the florid details of every sweeping aesthetic undertaking, yet the show did feature smaller, more focused displays of skill as well. As one point of fascination for me personally, the “Miniature Arrangement” portion in the show was sometimes more satisfying than the more grandiose undertakings of larger exhibits. Attention paid to those creative ideas that can fit inside the box can be very rewarding: and this portion of the show features various themes, all of which relied only on a singular leaf or bud at times, in a small cube with minimal lighting. For example, the “Missing Link” section of the miniature arrangements featured singular links of palm, dandelion, twisted rush, anthurium, hydrangea, cocculus, lily grass, snake plant, amaryllis, and boxwood all neatly boxed into the wall, refreshing enough in its compartmentalized and minimalist nature, especially in a huge room where the scattering of so many objects can be overwhelming.

Aside from the various sizes of the competition, the themes were equally varied. One contest imposition offered the theme of the Terrace, which featured one striking entry by the Camden Workers attempting to simulate, all in the space of a backyard-terrace, the Loy Krathong Festival in Thailand featuring a neat list of 71 varieties of plant and taking home an award for a “Distinctive Orchid Display”. A “Hat-i-tude” competition featured hats made of flowers; a hat of moss and roses entitled “Tea with the Queen” was the winner in that category. “Defined Space- Labyrinth” featured one neat arrangement of Anthurium, heather, and moss with great lighting that kindled a newfound respect for anthurium on my part along with the strong belief that anything featuring said anthurium ought to have won a prize, if not for any other reason than for its exquisite coloring and a texture that makes one question its very reality. Another personal highlight was a contest themed “Eat, Drink, & Be Merry,” in which the first prize was given to an entry titled "TAILGATE" featuring as its centerpiece a kind of flowery vine wrapped stylishly around an old keg, propped on a broken off tailpiece. It outstripped a variety of other competitors, including a coffin full of flowers beside a kitchen table and chairs entitled “Irish Wake: Mourning & Celebration.” “Commendable use of Space. Go Irish!” the judge’s comment card read. “I don’t get it,” one nearby man said, “It’s just an old beer keg.”

Moving westward in the convention hall brought with it a shift from the presentational to the marketable. As if above there wasn’t enough sheer stuff to describe and still inadequately encapsulate the flower show, here there was a huge marketplace of goods that beckoned to the wallets of its attendees. The Philadelphia Society of Botanical Illustrators—who knew?—had a great exhibit of their works, and Fiskars® had clipping demonstrations: a pole with branches for you to take “Our Head Sheers,” said a lady to a potential customer (“Those’ll rotate three-hundred-and-sixty degrees.”). There is an entire market behind the art of raising plants, and with that an aesthetic behind the aesthetic: cedar smells, beeswax candles, terra cotta, patio enclosures, collections of doorknobs from 1800, a section of hammocks labeled ADULTS ONLY (from Golden Hammocks, Wait Park, MN), Birdhouses, wrought iron, jarred stuffs of Common Folk Herb Farm (Naples Village, ME), Glassware in floral patters by Artifax Designs (Chester, NJ), numerous chances to find the ideal garden bench. There is an entire sensibility to be learned of lighting and tone, meticulousness of picking the perfect shade of flagstone or porcelain, of fountain installations. The space of window sills is valuable not to mention the pattern of garden tile, everything by virtue of its frivolity and exuberance in this world is absolutely essential, and everyone at this particular flower show seems to be aware of this at all times. It’s an interesting kind of inundation of the senses, this cross section of merchandizing, florid beauty, and democratic availability, as I mentioned in the beginning; but one that unfortunately is only ever barely communicated; since beauty, as Thomas Mann once wrote, is always accompanied by “the painful awareness that language can only praise it...but not reproduce."

Image Credits: The wonderful Philadelphia Society of Botanical Illustrators