Over the years, all sorts of people have risked their
health, fortunes, and good sense on beautiful and exotic flowering plants.
In 1637 in Amsterdam, the price of a single tulip bulb rivaled that of a
ship. "Tulipomania" swept Europe, causing fortunes to
be made -- and lost -- as a result of botanical trading.
In the 1800s,
respected horticulturist Sir Joseph Hooker suffered from bruised shins and
stockings full of leeches in his quest for new species of rhododendron.
Collector E. H. Wilson was plagued by what he called a "lily
limp" after surviving a rock slide and a stampede of pack mules while
harvesting the Chinese flower in 1910.
Although these were not casual enthusiasts, it is
understandably difficult to appreciate the botanical fervor among the
educated and well-to-do of years past. Now that affordable and plentiful
orchids can be bought from florists and even grocers, perhaps more
understandable to us is the trade in antique botanical prints.
Colorful and
lush and finite in number, botanicals are mainstays of the antique-print
dealer's repertoire. A flower captured in full bloom is an ephemeral
moment that begs any nature lover's attention. And when that
rendering is delicate, bright, and hand-colored, the hunt has been
fruitful. But prettiness aside, the science and history of the prints also
tell an interesting part of the story.
"Botanical prints were done by pioneers and
great artists of the past," says Christopher W. Lane at the
Philadelphia Print Shop, a leading dealer in important botanicals.
"To some extent there are two approaches to collecting them.
There's the historical approach -- the search for prints by Pierre
Joseph Redouté and Georg Ehret, which have retained more value
because there's more to them than how they look. But what really
drives botanicals is aesthetics. A beautiful, well-made botanical print, no
matter who made it, has value."