The national flower of Guatemala, known as Monja Blanca in Spanish or Sak Ijix in Q’eqchi, is a rare albino version of the orchid shown here, Lycaste virginalis. The book uses its outdated scientific name Maxillaria skinneri. Illustration by Augusta Innes Baker Withers in James Bateman’s The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, 1837–1843, plate 35. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, a 19th-century book on Latin American orchids, prompted Natalie Lawler, an assistant curator for special projects at The Huntington, to write the following personal reflection on the vulnerability and resiliency of plants, the art of botanical illustration, and the power of portraits as markers of cultural memory.
Located amid the verdant mountains of central Guatemala, Orquigonia is a private nature reserve and conservation center dedicated to protecting the region’s orchid populations and natural ecosystem. Walking the reserve’s main path, visitors encounter orchids attached to host trees amid a jewel-green kaleidoscope of ferns, vines, and palms. Several didactic panels explain how the lives of orchids and humans have been deeply intertwined in Guatemala for millennia; ancient Mayan people used orchids in their ceremonies, cuisine, horticulture, and technological innovations, crafting the plants to create a kind of glue and a mordant, or fixative, for dyes and pigments. Today, the medicinal and ornamental properties of orchids are still highly valued. When I last visited Guatemala in March, I watched sheaves of them being carried to town centers to decorate altars for Semana Santa (Holy Week); smaller potted ones adorned my grandmother’s memorial altar. Orchids are revered across Latin America and the Caribbean, partly because of their natural abundance. South America is considered the most orchid-diverse continent in the world.
One didactic panel at Orquigonia describes la fiebre de las orquídeas, or “orchid fever,” which swept across Britain and Europe throughout the 19th century. At the time, orchids were wrested from their habitats across the global south, trafficked overseas by the crate full, and sold as rare and exotic luxuries to collectors in northern climates. Countless orchids perished in transit; others could not adapt to their new, artificial environments. But many persevered.
Plants have moved around the world for as long as people have created the means to carry them. This overseas shipping crate for plants was common until shortly after The Orchidaceae was published. Casimiro Gómez Ortega, Instrucción sobre el modo más seguro y económico de transportar plantas vivas por mar y tierra á los paises más distantes, 1779, pages 36–37. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, a rare botanical publication in The Huntington’s library collection, includes hand-colored illustrations of 40 of these survivors, depicted on enormous pages in life-sized, multicolored bloom. The volume was written, illustrated, and published entirely in England, between 1837 and 1843, at the height of orchid fever. Its author, James Bateman, did not go to Mexico or Guatemala to find specimens himself. Instead, he leveraged his vast inherited wealth to hire men to poach orchids on his behalf and ship countless carefully packed specimens to his English estate. The publication, seen as a showpiece of British botanical knowledge, is known for its size and heft (it takes two people to handle it safely), its exclusive print run of 125 copies, and, of course, its luminous illustrations.
Each of the vibrant, hand-painted lithograph plates in The Orchidaceae measures roughly 28 x 20 inches. James Bateman, The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, 1837–1843, plate 35. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
Botanical illustration is a collaborative and inventive craft. It is similar to portrait painting, where re-creating the likeness or essence of a person emerges from a deeply intimate communication between the artist and sitter (and sometimes a few other opinionated stakeholders). But unlike a portrait of a person, which usually highlights the sitter’s individuality, a botanical portrait is meant to represent an entire species. This single image is often drawn from a combination of sources. Botanical illustrators frequently begin by sketching from observation, sometimes using a dried specimen if the live plant is unavailable or not in bloom. They might consult field notes, which include visual descriptions of the plant as it was found. They may also adjust their illustrations based on feedback from a botanist or publisher who is seeking to highlight specific physical characteristics of a plant. At first glance, the final illustrations may appear objectively realistic, but they are in fact exemplary composites of information filtered through the artist’s eye and hand.
Illustration of Artorima erubescens from Mexico, drawn by Sarah Ann Drake. Known in Mexico as Azucena, the plant never made it to England, so Drake used a dried specimen as a reference source. She imagined how the plant might look in full bloom, including its color. Her illustration is labeled with the outdated scientific name Epidendrum erubescens. James Bateman, The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, 1837–1843, plate 32. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
Most of the plates in The Orchidaceae were drawn by two British artists, Sarah Ann Drake and Augusta Innes Baker Withers. (They are credited in the book as “Miss Drake” and “Mrs. Withers.”) The artists worked from field notes, collaborative input, and direct observation. In some cases, they waited years for the uprooted plants to finally bloom. A few orchids never did, and some never arrived, so Drake and Withers studied existing dried specimens to bring them to life on the page.
From left: Coryanthes speciosa from Mexico, illustrated by Sarah Ann Drake; Laelia superbiens from Guatemala, illustrated by Sarah Ann Drake; Stanhopea martiana from Mexico, illustrated by Augusta Innes Baker Withers. James Bateman, The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, 1837–1843, plates 36, 38, and 27. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
To me, The Orchidaceae’s illustrations are quiet portraits of resilient lives. Each orchid floats in the middle of a page on a white background, its roots splayed and searching, its original habitat erased. These orchids exist without choirs of birds and insects or warm dappled light surrounding them. They represent the many who withstood being plucked, packed, transported, revived, studied, prodded, coddled, illustrated, and given new names. The Orchidacae is as much about scientific hubris as it is about Latin American cultural memory.
Left: Known as coatzontecoxóchitl in Náhuatl, this Mexican orchid’s current scientific name is Stanhopea tigrina. Illustration by Augusta Innes Baker Withers. James Bateman, The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, 1837–1843, plate 7. Right: Stanhopea tigrina in The Huntington’s orchid collection. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
A short walk from the library reading rooms, The Huntington’s orchid greenhouses and The Rose Hills Foundation Conservatory for Botanical Science house one of the world’s most diverse orchid collections. More than half of the species illustrated in The Orchidaceae are present, blooming at various times throughout the year.
Most of the orchids that The Huntington stewards were propagated by seed, which is now considered the most sustainable approach to plant conservation because it does not require removing plants from the wild. The Huntington’s Botanical team works with such organizations as Ecuagenera, an Ecuadorian company that specializes in orchid cultivation and nursery sales with the aim of promoting and protecting Ecuador’s rich biodiversity. Stanhopea tigrina and Coryanthes speciosa, two species featured in The Orchidaceae publication, are thriving at The Huntington thanks to seed-propagated plants from Ecuagenera’s lab propagation program. The national flower of Guatemala, Lycaste virginalis, can also be found at The Huntington. I’m patiently waiting for it to bloom in winter and then again in spring.
Illustrated vignette of two quetzal birds. James Bateman, The Orchidaceae of Mexico and Guatemala, 1837–1843, page 12. | The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens.
Natalie Lawler is an assistant curator for special projects at The Huntington. She wishes to thank Brandon Tam, associate curator of the orchid collection at The Huntington, for his expertise and generous guidance while she wrote this article.
Discover the amazing diversity of orchids at The Huntington’s 8th Annual International Orchid Show and Sale on Oct. 18–20.
Please note that the Library items in this story are not on view.