Yes, I should probably consider hiring an assistant for my indoor plants, what with the outdoor season for containers and gardens upon us. They’re really getting too much for one person, particularly for someone like myself who’s retired and requires large blocks of time to nap and procure snacks. What I really need is a “plant curator” that will take on all of the organizational and management duties required by my plants.
I always thought that curators were in museums. They’d put together special exhibits and showings, and manage the museum’s numerous collections of artworks. They would gather up all of the Renoirs in stock, for example, setting them strategically around the exhibit hall. If the museum didn’t really have enough, well then, borrowing and trading would go on among museums. A few years back, when in DC with our in-laws, Jack and I went to such an exhibit at the National Gallery. It was quite spectacular, and I remember seeing four paintings that hadn’t been exhibited together in over a hundred years. I don’t really recall the artist – there have been so many of note over the centuries, and truth be told, I can recognize styles and eras, but other than the real big names, I lose track. Which is why I’ve never been a true art historian, so as a guide I wouldn’t be of much use. I’d have to make stuff up – “That’s from Picasso’s blue period when he was living in Philadelphia”, and that’s frowned upon in art circles and among major museums.
When the Daughter became involved in film competitions, I understood that film festivals too have curators. My knowledge here too is rather sketchy, but I’d guess that these were the folks that determined which films would be shown, and in differing venues and balancing schedules. For several years, Elizabeth volunteered at the New Hampshire Film Festival in Portsmouth, so I’d drive over with her. In the course of things, I’d check out the coffee shops but also slip into some of the films, and saw some great ones. At least I enjoyed them and assumed they were great because they’d show up here. Often, they’d appear at other festivals of graduated importance and prestige, or they had been, so perhaps some were on the downward curve. Many times, the film makers were in attendance to answer questions about their creations, and that was often quite interesting. There were a number of venues running simultaneously, and I assume that the curators matched their sizes to the anticipated audiences, and scheduled accordingly. There is a lot to it, I imagine, because, unlike an art exhibit, there are many moving parts from selection to placement.
In days of yore, an assistant clergyman was called a “curate”. I don’t know if the term is used in other churches, but we Roman Catholics have phased it out. I don’t know why. The curate was typically the second-in-command. If for any reason the pastor could not fulfill his duties, like the first runner up in Miss America, the curate would step in. I always assumed that the curate was a pastor-in-waiting, looking forward to the day that he’d get his own parish. He was the guy that would fill in, we assumed, when the pastor didn’t want to get up for early Mass. The pastor had the big suite in the rectory, while the curate(s) had the third floor. There might well have been administrative duties for the curate all along, hence the name. But as parish staff has grown, with bookkeepers, parish secretaries, cooks and housekeepers, perhaps the role of curate of late involved a lot of sitting around. No matter. Now, the term has been discontinued, evolving into “associate pastor”, then to “parochial vicar”. There is a certain “arranging a crusade” and “manning the ramparts” quality to the last one. In actuality, it’s either an assistant or a temporary appointment. But, as I often do in these writings, I’ve digressed.
Here, Her Ladyship is a curator, but more than that, a direct overseer. She recommends recipes and meals, sets household schedules, controls the tv remote, and more. While we don’t do the entertaining that we did in the past, she still manages the social calendar. She is also our primary purchasing agent – managing Elizabeth’s wardrobe, ordering gifts for major holidays like Christmas and Easter, all done from her chair in the upright position. I might add that her iPad is indispensable to her curatorial duties.
So, back to my plants and my gardens. I have had to assume responsibilities for really the entire family when it comes to plants. The Princess can be indifferent at best to openly hostile at low points. Her Ladyship appreciates them on a purely aesthetic, hands-off kind of way. Working with soil, for her, though, is best left to gophers and woodchucks. Her sister is much the same. Any plant requiring actual contact and maintenance is time wasted. This is a person that will spend hours taking out and redoing stitches in a quilt, but putting a little water on a plant is unnecessary expenditure of energy and attention. Most bits of greenery in their house will never see or need photosynthesis. My brother-in-law, my sister’s husband is an enthusiastic gardener, yet the details often escape him. He’ll put shade plants in bright sunlight, because plants are all pretty much the same.
That brings it all back to me, and my collection. I have converted my study, sometimes referred to as Elizabeth’s bedroom when she’s in residence, into my “foliage” collection. It houses my recent additions of calathea and maranta, as well as a few stray plants I’ve picked up along the way because I just liked the way they looked. The overflow has spilled into the kitchen, the bedroom, and recently the dining room. That’s in addition to some interesting plants lurking in strategic spots in the living room. I’ve been collecting new ones because they’re primarily low light plants. The phrase, “bright and sunny” doesn’t apply to most spots in our home. Many of the typical houseplants won’t survive with the limited, indirect light they’re afforded, so I’ve been searching out some that will do better with just a couple of hours or so of indirect sunlight, or that are like bats and survive in caves. Once I put plants in a spot where they do well, I should really leave them there. But my need to rearrange, call it attention deficit or whatever you will, sometimes drives me. “I wonder how that would look over there . . . . . “ and so on, and so on. Her Ladyship will ask if something is new. It usually isn’t, it was just in another spot. (Of course, I do sneak in new ones too, so that’s also a possibility.) When our friend Lady Peacock stayed with us while house hunting, we’d hear the rustle of bags as she tried to bring in her latest wardrobe acquisitions under the radar of Herself. I’m like that with plants. If they’re going into the gardens outside, I’m pretty safe, but houseplants have to be acquired surreptitiously.
Which brings me back to my original premise. Someone to organize and manage the houseplants is something every serious plant enthusiast needs. Plant groupings, which ones go together for maximum effect, which sizes and shapes look well in a bunch, or need to be separated so they each stand out. That’s important. Types of containers also factor into the display decision-making process. I’ve been into unglazed pottery lately in terracotta tones, although Walmart, one of my primary sources, has had some really distinctive gray ones too. Decisions, decisions. They don’t really keep me up nights, but to the serious collector / curator of plant collections, it could. At the very least, I could devote more time to becoming a “plant influencer”. I’m assuming that term refers to people that spread their knowledge and expertise far and wide through blogs, podcasts, and social media postings. Most influencers tend to be young, in touch with the needs and requirements of younger people. But I see no reason why I couldn’t do the same for plant and garden enthusiasts across the globe. I could translate this blog in dozens, nay hundreds of languages, adding pictures and using dramatic fonts. Oh, yes. Time to reinvent myself, so spread the word, faithful readers. The next chapter is just beginning, and if I can free up time for my creative juices to flow (and trips to Walmart for containers), it leaves the day-to-day management to my curator.
I'm Thinking...No! 