The Art of Flower Arrangement in Hawaii 9780824891220

Table of contents :
Foreword
Introduction
Contents
Plates
The Elements
The Principles
Containers and Accessories
Acknowledgments
Glossary

Citation preview

T h e Art of F l o w e r A r r a n g e m e n t in H a w a i i

UNIVERSITY

OF H A W A I I P R E S S • H O N O L U L U

•

1962

T h e Art of Flower Arrangement in Hawaii Caroline E. Peterson

& Kenneth

Kingrey

COPYRIGHT IN

THE

ANGELES

1962

UNITED •

BY

THE

STATES

LIBRARY

OF

UNIVERSITY OF

AMERICA

CONGRESS

OF • AT

CARD

HAWAII THE

PRESS

WARD

CATALOGUE

•

MANUFACTURED

RITCHIE NUMBER

PRESS,

LOS

62-16168

'O na pua o Hawai'i, Ka ivehi no ia o ka 'aina. The flowers and youth of Hawaii, These are the adornments of the land.

Foreword

For the hundreds of thousands of visitors who come to Hawaii each year, one of the major attractions of the Islands is their limitless abundance of plants and flowers in an almost unbelievable variety of form and color. There is no better place to see how these materials can be used as decoration than in Hawaii's art museum, the Honolulu Academy of Arts, where flower arrangements are—in a quite literal sense—a regular part of the museum's exhibition program. These arrangements are far more than simply tasteful assemblages of interesting plant materials. They are, instead, truly sculptural expressions so considered in their handling that they qualify as works of art. Constantly changed, they provide an endless source of inspiration and delight for the museum visitor. Since they are the work of Caroline Peterson, they offer what amounts to a nonstop demonstration of her particular genius as an artist. A tradition for more than twenty-five years, they must surely represent the most durably popular one-man show in the history of museums in this or any other country. The number of how-to-do-it books on flower arrangement is legion. Classes in the subject abound, in city and town throughout the nation. The inference might well be drawn, then, that flower arrangement can Vll

be reduced to something like a science, with successful achievement resulting from the application of learnable principles. Certainly principles can be helpful to the -flower arranger, but the fact of the matter is that the success of a flower arrangement, like that of a painting or sculpture, depends ultimately on the presence or absence of one essential factor: the degree to which the practitioner is an artist. I doubt if Caroline Peterson knows any rules. If she does, she disregards—or deliberately breaks—them, depending solely upon her greatest asset, a sure esthetic instinct. She is, in other words, a born artist. The Academy is proud to be able to provide a showcase for her work. The Academy is also gratified that Caroline Peterson's distinction as a practising artist can now be made known to a much wider public, thanks to the University of Hawaii Press and the publication of this book, which is a wedding of two talents—hers and that of Kenneth Kingrey, whose consistently high level of performance as a teacher and as an artist-designer has brought added distinction to the Hawaiian cultural scene. The book offers no handy formulae. What it does do is to place flower arrangement in its proper perspective among the creative activities in which man can indulge and through which he ennobles himself. It should, therefore, give heart to those to whom the creation of beauty is its own best justification. At the same time it sets forth standards which everyone —amateur as well as professional—may with enjoyment, with a sense of challenge, and above all with understanding, strive to attain. ROBERT Director,

viii

P.

GRIFFING,

Honolulu

Academy

JR.

of Arts

Introduction

and his use of them to express ideals, emotions, and aspirations are as old as recorded history. Throughout the ages man has employed flowers lavishly in governmental and religious ceremonies and has made them an essential part of private ceremonies such as baptism, marriage, and burial. He has gathered them for household decorations and personal adornment; he has chosen them to compliment friends, to honor dignitaries, and to cheer the sick. He has extracted their perfume, brewed them for medicinal purposes, and has even concocted love potions from their leaves and petals. H e has made national emblems of them and has acknowledged great achievements with floral wreaths. Songs and stories have been written about the various flowers, and poets have endowed them with personalities: a cowslip is a country wench, a violet is a nun, and the fragrant tuberose is the "sweet mistress of the night!' Inevitably, flowers have become symbols—signs visible of things invisible—of great power. T h e Bible contains numerous allusions to floral symbols. In the Orient, the lotus blossom, sacred from ancient times, is a symbol of purity; in India it represents many things from the birthplace of Brahma to the chariot for the Hindu counterpart of Cupid. To the ancients, the rose was an emblem of silence; to the Rosicrucians, it is the M A N ' S I N N A T E LOVE OF F L O W E R S

ix

"spirit nailed by time upon the cross!' T h e poet Dante conceived the universe in the form of a great white rose. T h e chrysanthemum, blooming late and withstanding wind and frost, was to early Chinese poets a symbol of strength and purity. To English poets, flowers are "sweet letters of the angel tongue}' the daisy is the "eye of day" the dandelion is spring, hope is a trembling harebell, and faith is a lily "lifted high and white!' Sometimes a single flower is charged with more than it should have to bear—for instance, when it is supposed to cure melancholia, act as a safeguard against evil spirits, forecast a maiden's matrimonial fate, and serve as "balm for a warrior's wound!' In Hawaii, where year-long summer provides an inexhaustible supply, flowers have become an integral part of daily living. Gardens are planned as carefully as homes, and the lei has become a symbol of a way of life. Out of this need for man to express his ideals, emotions, and aspirations by means of flowers has come an activity known loosely as "flower arrangement!' At times, in sensitive hands, this activity has moved into the realm of art. In Japan, it has even moved through art into the realm of philosophy, with systematic practice in flower arrangement prescribed as a means to the achievement of that high virtue, tranquillity of mind. At other times and in less sensitive hands it has degenerated into mere convention and dilettante recreation. This book is based on the premise that flower arrangement is a valid art form, and, as such, embodies the fundamental elements of art. T h e purpose here is to discuss these elements: space, line, form, texture, color, and light—together with the principles that govern their use—as they relate to flower composition. This, then, is not the conventional book on flower arrangement. It is not a set of rules—there are no rules in art. N o r is it a list of instructions on how to imitate another's work. Rather, it is a book on design, with the individual as a starting point; a comprehensive approach to the art of flower arrangement as exemplified in the work of an outstanding artist in the field, Mrs. Caroline E . Peterson. If it inspires the creative rather than the imitative approach, and if it helps one, through an interest in flower arrangement, to become more vitally aware of the elements and principles of art, it will have achieved its purpose.

x

Contents

T he Elements

2

Space

5

Line

11

Form

17

Texture

23

Color

29

Light

37

T h e Principles

42

Dominance

45

Balance

5i

Variation

57

Repetition

63

Opposition

69

Transition

75

Movement

81

Containers and Accessories

88

Acknowledgments

99

Plates T h e Elements Space i 11 HI

A windblown arrangement of eucalyptus branches Water lilies and shell in a Hawaiian mood

7

8

Banana leaves and rattan plaque in a curvilinear design

9

Line IV

Plumeria branches and a curving staircase

13

v

Flowering peach in a Korean vase

vi

Linear silhouette of branches and bronze containers

14 15

Form vii VIII

ix

Colored succulent

19

Dry arrangement of exotic seed pods

20

Leaves and bracts from the traveler's palm

21

Texture x

Fronds from a giant tree fern in an antique bronze container

xi

Texture contrasts of sea grapes, papaia and carambola

xu

Spanish moss and an ancient Oriental scroll

25

26

27

Color XIII

Banana stem and Java olive pods in a low-key color plan

xiv

Heliconia in a red lacquer bowl

xv

Table setting and centerpiece of Java olive pods and branches 3 5

34

Light xvi XVII XVIII

Water lilies in a crystal container

39

Water lilies in an Oriental vendor's carrier Red coffee berries in a crystal vase

33

41

40

The Principles Dominance xix xx xxi

Gold-brown sheaths from the coconut palm Gardenias and ti leaves

47

48

Table setting on an Oriental theme

49

Balance XXII

Coconut frond in a vertical arrangement

53

XXIII

Plumeria with sprays from the "octopus" tree

xxiv

Baby orchids and elephant-ear pods

54

55

Variation xxv xxvi xxvu

A pu'olo, or gift Hawaiian style

59

Formal centerpiece of water lilies and ceramic accessories A pu'olo for an important occasion

61

Repetition XXVIII

Java olive pods against an iron gate

65

xxix

Bamboo sentinels at the Honolulu Academy of Arts

xxx

Woodroses in a Han vase

66

67

Opposition xxxi xxxii XXXIII

Agave leaves in a symmetrical composition

71

Bizarre arrangement of heliconia leaves and stems Heliconia caribaea in a rare Chinese container

72

73

Transition xxxiv

Croton "roses" and an arrangement of diverse materials

77

xxxv

Chrysanthemums and palm fronds on an antique plaque

78

xxxvi

White orchids and coral on a black lacquer table

79

Movement xxxvn xxxvni xxxix XL

Composition of giant agave leaves 83 Sea grapes in a hapu'u container at the Bernice P Bishop Museum 84 A rhythmic arrangement of succulents 85 Portrait of Mrs. Caroline E. Peterson 87

C o n t a i n e r s and A c c e s s o r i e s XLI XLII XLIII XLIV

XLV XLVI XLVII XLVIII

Tools and materials 90 Pandanus basket 91 Basket made from coconut-frond midribs 92 Woven coconut-frond basket 93 Collection of containers 94-95 "Roses" made from elephant-ear pods 96 Croton "rose" 97 Hawaiian temple image and kahilis 98

T h e Art of F l o w e r A r r a n g e m e n t in H a w a i i

T h e Elements

A R T HAS B E E N C A L L E D T H E LANGUAGE

of visual signs. It has been defined

as craftsmanship to a special end—the end being the creation of visual statements which express values and evoke responses. T h e artist, as he creates new forms through selection, rearrangement, and distortion of the forms he finds in Nature, adds greatly to our understanding and enjoyment of the world around us. This urge to create, to order things, to impose on matter the form of the creator's mind, is inherent in us all. It is a basic part of the human pattern, involving both intellect and emotion, and is not, as some believe, reserved for the select few endowed with a specific and hallowed talent. Most of our daily actions involve art judgments. T h e way we dress and the things we choose to live with, from the teapot in the kitchen to the painting on the livingroom wall, are visual statements of what we are and of the kind of world we like to live in. This urge to manifest in beauty something felt within oneself takes many forms. One of these is flower arrangement. T h e idea behind a visual statement is intangible, existing first in the mind of the artist, and eventually, if the composition is successful, in the mind of the beholder. For the purpose of expressing his idea, however, the artist has at his command certain plastic elements which are far from intangible. T h e y have concrete reality, they create visual impact, they evoke response. These elements, which will be examined here as they relate to flower arrangement, are: space, line, form, texture, color, and light. As each element is discussed, however, it should be remembered that in practice no one element can be isolated and employed independently of others. N o r can it be considered apart from the principles of design. A visual expression is a synthesis. Synthesis implies relationships and interrelationships, all in a constant state of flux. T h e designer, painter, sculptor, or architect is concerned primarily with the synthesis of physical, formal, and expressive relationships into an integrated expression which is his design, his painting, his sculpture, or his house. Flower composition deals with similar relationships. A n outpouring of sheer emotion through color, texture, and unbridled movement is not enough. When the plastic elements have been controlled and ordered according to age-old principles of beauty, when the incoherent mass of floral materials has become a visual unit with structure and meaning, then and only then does flower arrangement move into the realm of art. 3

in which all physical things are ordered and related. It is boundless; it extends in all directions; it is the background of design. But it can be cut, segmented, divided, and rearranged indefinitely. When this happens, the resulting shapes of the space intervals become an integral part of the design. In visual statements these shapes are called negative, in contrast to the positive shapes of objects. S P A C E IS T H E U L T I M A T E E N V I R O N M E N T

The relationship between mass and space is something like that between sound and silence, between movement and rest. An angry word divides silence into before and after; a cry of joy shatters stillness and fills it with new meaning. A single object set in empty space segments it, yet holds the broken parts together, as a lone black rock divides yet anchors a vast expanse of empty beach. A single flower set in space is an event, a visual statement—a simple one, to be sure, but nevertheless a statement. Place a second and third flower beside the first and a new space relationship appears—the breathing spaces in between, each one as vital to the total effect as the rhythmic silences in music. These intervals of space have size and shape as definite as those of the flowers which surround them, and they must be as sensitively organized. They are as integral to the final composition as the other elements of design: line, form, texture, color, light. Space intervals as well as stars outline the constellations for us. Space intervals and numbers make the clock's face round; the circular, unbroken visual flow of space units and numbers suggests the unbroken continuity of time. The exactness of the spaces between the numbers suggests the mathematical precision, the "undeviating order" of the universe. Imagine the chaos if someone changed the size of one space unit on the clock. The designer soon discovers that it is possible, intentionally or unintentionally, to create the illusion of space where none exists. An otherwise perfect flower arrangement may look unorganized, top-heavy, or lopsided simply because the designer has not taken into consideration the fact that bright colors tend to advance and muted ones to recede, that soft textures draw the eye deeper into themselves than do hard shiny ones, that complicated surfaces are more insistent and immediate than plain surfaces. Illusionary space, then, must be as carefully patterned as actual space. Once the above tendencies are understood they can be used to give added depth and movement to a composition. The judicious use of advancing and receding or expanding and contracting elements can make the difference between an ordinary static arrangement and one that throbs with life. 5

Space

The proportion of space to mass is important. Too much background space can dwarf a delicate arrangement and make it insignificant; a larger, more dramatic one loses power if squeezed into a crowded area or pushed too close against a wall. Within the composition itself, a preponderance of negative shapes, i.e., of space shapes, can create a feeling of uncertainty or loneliness. Large space units of random size and shape combined with brighter colors and free-flowing lines convey a gay or carefree mood, whereas small even spaces combined with muted colors and softer textures convey a well-knit quality which bespeaks security, stability, conservatism. Even subtle shades of meaning can be conveyed by the patterning of space. A symmetrical arrangement of glistening white flowers, for a wedding perhaps, may symbolize conscious purity, while a less symmetrical, more informal arrangement of the same flowers may suggest merely innocence. By using the same materials but altering the space relationships the designer can literally change his mind and say something else instead. Space has beauty in its ordered emptiness. It challenges the designer to transform its pristine emptiness into organized expression without destroying its perfection. At his own risk the artist accepts the challenge. In this windblown arrangement of eucalyptus branches, reminiscent of traditional Chinese brushwork, there is sharp contrast between the large, plain expanse of background space and the chatter of smaller spaces within the arrangement. It creates a strong light-and-dark effect, a positivenegative pattern, with the intricate, elongated leaf shapes repeated in the surrounding space shapes. So pleasing are the negative areas, one is tempted in contemplating them to disregard the positive areas. The total structure, which Mrs. Peterson has built rather high in order to emphasize the cascading movement of the branches, is one of curving verticality, repeated in the container, in the leaves themselves, and in the space pattern.

PLATE I.

PLATE II. Mrs. Peterson's subtle use of space characterizes this arrangement in a Hawaiian mood of water lilies and bulrushes combined with shell, tree stump, and tapa. The flowers, in a graceful downward curve, encircle the shell in a crescent-shaped linear movement, which is repeated, not only in the contours of the shell itself and of the void within, but in the visible portion of the tree stump. In contrast, the thin vertical spaces between the upright bulrushes match the vertical lines dividing the tapa background into irregular squares. The cup-shaped depths of the flowers are reflected in the larger depth of the shell and in the still larger depth at the heart of the arrangement.

The inspiration for this arrangement was an antique rattan plaque lined and ribbed with black lacquer, suggestive of a banana leaf. The floral materials from the banana plant—a torn leaf and a flower with its purplish-red bracts turned back to display the young fruit—combine with the mat to create a dynamic, predominantly curvilinear composition in which the negative shapes are as distinctive as the positive ones. The geometric shapes—the circular table, the oval enclosed by the two midribs, the rectangular plaque, and the neatly arranged bananas—contrast sharply with the curled petals and torn leaf edges. This exciting composition is an example of Mrs. Peterson's ability to integrate unusual ele?nents with the strength and vigor of a sculptress. PLATE HI.

PLATE I

PLATE III

L I N E , AS O N E OF T H E B A S I C E L E M E N T S OF ART, h a s its o w n

in-

herent energy. It extends through space to create movement; it encloses space to create shapes and contours. It possesses the dynamic tendency to carry the eye on and on in the established direction long after the line itself has ended. Much has been written about the expressiveness of line. The designer knows he must reckon with the positive, direct, uncompromising quality of the straight line and the brutality of the short thick one; the passive, feminine softness of a gently curving line and the vigorous male thrust of one more strongly curved; the soothing continuity of an undulating line and the disturbing violence of a zigzag line; the formal, disciplined quality of calligraphy and the staccato nature of a dotted line; the sadness of a downward sweep and the energy of upward-spiraling lines so often found in growing things. This dynamic expressiveness of line, as well as its directional value, makes it a potent device for creating mood and conveying ideas and emotions. Generally, a successful composition will have a dominant linear movement: vertical, horizontal, curvilinear, or oblique, depending upon the artist's motivating idea. A horizontal linear movement, reminiscent of the distant horizon, of seas and plains, suggests repose. Vertical movement suggests the poise and balance of a tree or of the human figure. It may climb, or soar, or simply stand before us secure and dignified. T h e curvilinear line suggests flowing continuity; the diagonal line is the least secure, and therefore the most dynamic. Line, as it moves through space, may be either definite and continuous, as a highway that connects one city with another, or it may be merely sensed from related points in space, as, say, steppingstones from sidewalk to a door. T h e same is true when line encloses space. A solid wall may mark one boundary, while trees set far apart may just as definitely outline another. In the first case, the line is actual; in the second, through a psychological filling-in of distances between the trees, an imagined or felt line is established. T h e felt line, though less obvious than the actual, is just as real and important to the total composition. In flower arrangement, a branch, as it extends through space, creates an actual line, as do the edges that enclose a leaf or petal. W i t h i n the same structure, disconnected but related elements may compel the eye to move from one point to another along felt lines. The disconnected elements may 11

Line

be similarities of size, shape, texture, color, or light. W h a t e v e r the relationship between them, the designer, knowing the dynamic tendency for similarities to join hands, will make sure that the felt line created is integrated into the linear movement of the entire composition. Line, then, is an important organizing principle, a potent device for binding together heterogeneous elements. Much of the expressive force of a composition depends on the skill with which linear movements are established. Poorly organized linear structure reveals uncertainty or lack of sensitivity; self-conscious or mannered use of line is a sign of affectation; extraneous lines, especially if they contradict the basic linear plan, create confusion. Definite, well-organized lines convey the designer's purpose with clarity and conviction. " I t has nice lines^' someone says, and he may be speaking of anything from a flower arrangement to a skyscraper. H e means that the parts are rhythmically related; the verticals and horizontals, the diagonals and curvilinear lines arc somehow orchestrated into linear movements that are suitable to the object and pleasing to the eye.

PLATE IV. hi this curvilinear

arrangement,

both line and dimension are important. Vlumeria

ending in clusters of leaves and pale yellow railing, all working

together

flowers,

repeat

to soften the mass of steps and wall behind. It is principally

invests it with the dignity of the staircase and saves the graceful, gestion

of sentimentality.

The stand, itself a work

ment of the railing. The broken and upward to the other

curving movement

of art, lifts the whole

celadon

the branches, blossoms

vase. While

elegance

Mrs. Peterson

predominating,

but it quickly

of

does not repeat exactly

of the arrangement

has created

of a container

of material and linear movement. stretching

the container

still its grace and purity of form are in complete

rical arrangement

from any sug-

into the upward

hance and dramatize

created

movecontainer

an agitated,

as a

flowering-peach the vertical

harmony

with the delicacy

The arrangement

by the bare branches,

of

of the

whole.

brittle silhouette,

with the formal

on either side of the red lacquer bowl relieved starts with a feeling

moves into a series of staccato

branches

movement

upward

by the

while the backlighting

symmetinformality

of repose, horizontal and downward

outward from the central axis. The legs and handles of the bronze containers

linear movements

and which

branches.

and the unstudied

PLATE vi. Here

size

branch acts as a gentle transition from floor to stand to

PLATE v. There is nothing extraneous in this simple, austere arrangement in a Korean

branches,

the curving lines of the stairway

lines

movements repeat

the

a?id illusion of space

en-

it.

PLATE IV

F O R M IS T H E W A Y A T H I N G M A N I F E S T S ITSELF

in space, as opposed

to the material of which it is composed. It is structure as opposed to surface: the trunk and branches of a tree rather than the bark. It is possibly the most basic, the most enduring, the most unchanging, characteristic. T h e human form, evident in the newborn baby, is still present in the old man. T h e color of his hair may have changed, and the texture of his skin; the line of his body may be bent, but the form persists and will persist, even in death.

F o r m

Form is that by which we identify an object. By the form of a creature moving down a dimly lit street we know it is a dog and not a man. Coneshaped forms tell us that pine trees grow along a distant ridge. Wedgeshaped shadows say that birds are flying overhead. It was the form of the cocoa palms that inspired Mark Twain to call them "the feather dusters of the sky!' When an aggregate of things is brought together to perform a common function, the way in which the various units are arranged determines form. It is true that each unit will have its own intrinsic form, free or geometric. But the aggregate has form, too, which is determined by how these elements are disposed. Lumber, brick, glass, steel, and concrete brought together to perform a common function, become something greater than the total of the parts, a building. T h e form the building takes—the way it manifests itself in space, and, incidentally, the way it segments and encloses space—is determined by how the architect combines the various elements. In the same way, blossoms, leaves, branches, fruits, and seed pods, brought together to perform a common function—to decorate a lecture hall, brighten a dinner table, accent or conceal an architectural detail—must be organized into an aggregate arrangement that has structure and coherence if it is to perform that function properly. From the foregoing it is obvious that form is related to an object's reason for being. It arises out of needs, desires, and aspirations. It is a product of functional demands. But it may go even farther and, in turn, modify the function. A flower arrangement, by its intrinsic form, may heighten the solemnity of an occasion or give it added dignity. It may add life and color to a room as it was intended to, yet provide an unexpected touch of gaiety impossible without it. It is not inconceivable that across a dinner table friendships might begin in the mutual response to an arrest17

ing flower arrangement, or that a searching soul might find new insight in the way the flowers adorn an altar. According to one authority, Issotei Nishikawa, the Japanese "find more beauty in their figures or forms than in their colours}' and endeavor to represent the beauty of form in Nature through flower arrangement. They even compare this art to the drama: " T h e actors and actresses are the flowers and trees}' and the stage is the container. This leads to unusual combinations: a pine branch and a rose, representing a sturdy old sage or hero and a tender lady standing quietly together—in a vase.

V I I . A few "flowers" and some long tentacle-like colored aloe leaves are all Mrs. Peterson needed to create this simple form, reminiscent of a bird's wing. The feeling is one, not of floral material carefully cut and placed, but of living things sweeping outward in a textured linear movement from a central core.

PLATE

In this stylized arrangement of dry seed pods from the royal poinciana tree, the Java olive, and the African tulip tree, Mrs. Peterson has deliberately combined diverse materials to achieve a complex pattern of open and closed shapes. The over-all ?nass shape created by the curving elongated pods bursting from a central core and tied by a wide ribbon of coconut fibre is raised to the level of sophistication, not only by size and the unexpected choice of materials, but by sharply contrasting textures and shapes. PLATE VIII.

PLATE

ix. This powerful

composition

of leaves and bracts from the traveler's palm is an example

of Mrs. Peterson's unique ability to lift flower arrangement into the realm of sculpture. The winged but rigid shape of the blossom is released and enlarged in the soaring movement of the leaves. Skillful lighting outlines the graceful linear movement within the composition, dramatizes the exotic, boatshaped bracts, and heightens the contrast between the molded, plastic, free form of the arrangement and the formality of the wood panelling and the container.

18

PLATE VII

P L A T E VIU

PLATE IX

T E X T U R E IS A S U R F A C E Q U A L I T Y .

It is revealed primarily through the

sense of touch—a sense which has been much less regarded in the West than in the Orient. To the Chinese, an ivory figure or a jade bowl is to be touched as well as seen. There is a tendency in the West, however, to feel that tactile sensations are not naturally aesthetic in character; that touch is so predominantly utilitarian in function and so intimately bound up with erotic expression that the apprehension of the elements of art by means of touch is an impossibility. Others, fortunately, hold that the sense of touch should know as much as the eye, that it is "the reality sense par excellence" that it helps greatly in achieving a sense of identity with even inanimate things, and that tactile appreciation should be cultivated. Texture helps give character to an object, in a sense is part of its reason for being. A rug is a rug is a rug, as Gertrude Stein would say, but the texture of two rugs can contrast luxury and poverty as eloquently as figures in a bankbook. One of our strongest impulses on seeing an object for the first time is to touch it, as though we must corroborate tactilely the visual impression. There is a certain pleasure in having the sense of touch assure us that a surface feels the way it looks. Two women at a flower show stood a long time gazing at a display of cup-of-gold before one of them succumbed. First she ran the tips of her fingers down inside the flower, then took a petal between thumb and forefinger, feeling it as one does cloth. A t last, with a sigh of relief she whispered to her companion, "Chamois skin!' Immediately her friend reached out to verify the discovery that cup-of-gold petals not only look but feel like chamois skin. Texture is unique among the plastic elements in that it simultaneously activates two senses, the visual and the tactile. T h e fusion enables us to experience texture with our eyes—the velvetiness of a rose petal, the satiny quality of white ginger, the patent-leather feel of croton leaves. It also makes it possible to experience textures of surfaces either too large to be explored through touch, such as the slopes of distant hills, or of surfaces beyond our reach, such as the polished rocks that line the river bed. Materials used in flower arrangement—leaves, blossoms, fruit, bark, seeds, pods, moss, and grass, as well as sand, rock, and wood—offer a wide variety of textures. Even the textures of container and background against which it is displayed should be integral parts of the total composition. 23

T e X t lire

A flower arrangement planned for a wedding would have a different texture than one in the waiting room of a hospital or the lobby of a hotel. A prickly cactus-like composition could be disturbing in a room designed for meditation, yet be the proper accent for a political rally. In other words, the texture emphasis should be in harmony with the occasion. T h e four basic surface textures are rough matt, smooth matt, rough glossy, and smooth glossy. A flower arrangement may be conceived primarily in terms of one of them, or as a combination. O r texture may be used simply to reinforce other elements: to reflect linear movement, define mass, give the effect of light and shadow, achieve controlled space variations, enhance color, or create contrast. Generally, one of the above basic surfaces should predominate. Care should be taken, however, to avoid the overuse of one texture lest, by placing false emphasis on one part, it disrupt the unity of the whole.

PLATE

x. An antique bronze container, a moss-covered rock or two, and a few tightly curled leaves

from the heart of a giant tree fern create this arresting, almost surrealistic, composition. Although it illustrates the use of other plastic elements and the application of many of the principles of design, it has been chosen for texture. The living, animate quality of the fern fronds is heightened by the cold inanimate quality of rock and bronze; the silky golden wool which protects the unborn leaves contrasts sharply with the abrasive surface of the container. The moss on the rocks and the encrusted patina on the container act as transition between the two. The stark simplicity of unborn fern fronds rising cobra-like from rocks in a deliberately restricted container—much as the parent trees rose from a crevice in an old Hawaiian lava flow—retains the feeling of latent force, the embryonic, about-toburst-into-being quality of growing things. This is an excellent example of Mrs. Peterson's courage and originality. PLATE

xi. Sea grapes and leaves in a ceramic bowl combine with a papaia and carambola to create this

arrangement of fruit and leaf shapes in various sizes, colors, and textures. Concentrating on texture, we have the powdered, velvety grapes; the larger shiny redeemed

leaves; the opaque, waxy, slightly

grooved papaia; the translucent, waxy, deeply grooved carambola—all in contrast to the hard glazed surface of the ceramic bowl. The pierced pattern of the container repeats the shape and size of the central feature, the grapes, while the forceful thrust of the stem creates a linear accent in opposition to the predominantly horizontal movement of the leaves and the gracefully drooping grape clusters. PLATE XII.

Again Mrs. Peterson has combined unusual materials. Coming upon this arrangement of

Spanish moss ("witches' hair" some call it) draped over the claw-like twigs of dried branches in a pewter vase on the white lacquered surface of a Ming table, one is struck, not only by the graceful beauty of the composition itself, but also by the movement, and the subtle color and texture relationships between it and the feathered bird in the old Chinese scroll to which it seems to lift its amis.

PLATE x

is the element which evokes the greatest single response. It is a powerful force, not yet fully understood, which affects our thoughts and moods, even our actions and health. It is claimed that intelligent use of color to bring out and heighten favorable human traits and diminish unfavorable ones could help change for the better humanity itself. Color, like music, speaks a universal language. The sky is blue for everyone, and lawns are green. Perhaps no painter has expressed more poignantly than Van Gogh the rapture of pure vision; all but the color-blind can share his pleasure at the "quiet and lovely girl" he saw one evening, "with coffee-tinted skin, darker than the rose of her bodice . . . against the emerald green of fig leaves!' Or the still life that he did one week in six different blues and five or six yellows and oranges. Or what he tells us that he saw one night as he was walking by the sea: "The deep blue sky was flecked with clouds of blue deeper than the fundamental blue of intense cobalt, and others of a clearer blue, like the blue whiteness of the Milky Way. On the blue depth the stars were sparkling greenish, yellow, white, and rose!' Or his description of a vineyard at sunset, "all red like red wine" turning to yellow in the distance against a green sky. But it was not all rapture. There was the sheer mental labor of balancing the essential colors, the exhausting work of calculation, "with one's mind utterly on the stretch, a hundred things to think of in a single half hour!' In organizing and controlling color, the artist will be helped by his own instincts, intuitions, and emotional responses. He may be hindered at first by certain dislikes and prejudices growing out of unpleasant associations. Or he may be timid and tend to choose only color combinations that he knows are safe. But an objective study of color and a recognition of the distinctive characteristics and personality of each hue will do much to convince him that, while there are combinations and relationships that are not pleasing, there is really no such thing as an ugly color. Whole books have been written on the subject of color, and, as further discoveries are made, more books will be written. All that can be attempted here is to review a few basic facts as they apply to flower arrangement and to urge the artist to study the major color theories of Munsell, Ostwald, and others; to observe carefully; and, above all, to experiment. Color can be interpreted as having dimensions as definite as those of C O L O R , IN B O T H ART AND N A T U R E ,

29

C 010 T

space. An understanding of these is fundamental to intelligent color control. They are hue, value, and intensity. Hue is that characteristic by which one color is distinguished from another. The words red, yellow, blue, and so on, indicate this distinction. Other hues result from combining two or more colors. Actually, the number of hues is infinite since the number of possible combinations is infinite. In working out the color scheme for a flower composition, it should be remembered that colors adjacent to each other on a hue circuit are analogous and colors opposite each other are complementary. The closer the colors are on the circuit the closer the harmony; the farther apart they are the greater the contrast. Value has to do with the lightness or darkness of a hue. Not only do the various colors differ in value—yellow is light and purple dark—but within one hue the degrees of lightness or darkness are infinite. In the case of red, the range of values extends from lightest pink to darkest red. Colors are in closer harmony when their values are similar: the lightest yellow is more closely related to a slightly darker yellow than to the darkest yellow. Value affects the apparent size of an object. A light pink chrysanthemum will appear larger than a dark pink one of the same size, unless they happen to be displayed against a light pink wall, in which case the lighter one will tend to appear smaller as it melts into the background and the darker one will appear larger by contrast. Value also affects apparent distance in a composition. Lighter values recede against a light background, darker ones advance. Obviously, value in itself is important in getting the effect desired, but values in relation to each other and in relation to the other dimensions are infinitely more so. Intensity, or chroma, has to do with the degree of purity of a hue, its brightness or dullness. It is the measure of how far a hue is removed from neutral grey in the direction of maximum brilliance. Colors may be the same in hue (all green) and the same in value (all light green), yet differ in intensity (some bright light green and some dull light green). The closer the degree of intensity the more obvious the harmony. Since a flower arrangement often presents several colors simultaneously, an understanding of and a feeling for color relationships is important. These relationships are usually intangible, complex, and sometimes almost completely hidden, but a few suggestions can be made. A color by itself has a certain character, but the moment it is placed 30

alongside another color this character changes radically. This is the rule of simultaneous contrast: "When two colors are placed next to each other the contrast intensifies the differences between them!' Or, as one artist put it, nothing is so relative as color. The effect is most noticeable when the colors are directly opposite on the color wheel; less noticeable when they are next to each other. Red against a green background appears to glow; black makes white seem even whiter. Strong value contrasts affect both hue and chroma. A dark blue or red dot on white looks almost black, but on black it becomes brilliant. As a rule, the largest color area will determine the over-all color plan of a composition. Because they are refracted differently, certain colors are aggressive, others recessive. The juxtaposition of an aggressive and a recessive color creates a pulsating, vibrating sensation. In general, a good color plan is one in which the areas have been controlled according to the principle of variety in unity and unity in variety. It should be suitable to the occasion, and please the artist, who, it is assumed, is sensitive to color relationships and wants to lift his work above the tried formula and the tired cliché. The particular character and mood of each color must be reckoned with in the preparation of a color plan. Yellow suggests sunlight; red is identified with passion, violet with royalty. A successful plan exploits these inherent qualities for their own sakes, at the same time integrating them with the other elements of design. There are many approaches to the organization and control of color. The following are a few suggestions. A monochromatic

plan, as its name

implies, is based on one color in a variety of values and intensities. It might be red, moving from palest pink to deepest red and varying values and intensities to achieve maximum richness. An analogous plan is one using hues that fall next to each other on the color wheel, such as yellow, yellowgreen, and green; or yellow, yellow-orange, orange, red-orange. In a complementary plan, opposing rather than closely related colors are used, such as yellow and purple or red and green. Since the problem is one of balancing opposites, the risks are greater than in analogous color plans. Colors related to orange are generally considered warm; those related to blue are considered cool. Plans may be developed in either the warm or the cool range. Color schemes based on values may be high key, employing the lighter 3i

values known as "pastel colors" or low key, employing the darker values such as bronzes, browns, maroons. Van Gogh tells us that he hoped to express "the love of two lovers by a marriage of two complementary colors, their mingling and their opposition, the mysterious vibrations of kindred tones; to express the thought of a brow by the radiance of a light tone against a sombre background; to express home by some star, and the eagerness of a soul by a sunset radiance!' Color, then, should be approached in the spirit of adventure, always, as Van Gogh said, "in the hope of making a discovery!'

The hues of this arrangement have all the richness of a fine old painting. The emphasis is one of warm reds and pinks with cool accents in grey, green, and blue. On the red side, the colors move from the palest pink in the banana stem, through the dull and bright red of the Java olive pods, to the deep mahogany red of the flower bracts. An excellent example of color and texture transition is the way in which Mrs. Peterson has used the duller red and coarser texture of the outside of the flower bract next to the seed pods and has then turned it so that the shiny brighter red surface blends into the corresponding pink of the lower banana stem. Every detail of this composition bears close study. PLATE XIII.

xiv. This dramatic arrangement of brightly colored heliconia leaves and flowers was created by Mrs. Peterson for a special occasion—the installation of a university's new board of regents. The strong virile thrust of leaves and stems repeats the horizontal movement of the massive board-room table; the over-all mass shape of the composition reflects the flattened, boat-shaped bracts of the heliconia. Using the red lacquer bowl as a foundation, Mrs. Peterson has developed a brilliant, exciting color scheme with hues diametrically opposed to each other on the color wheel—red and green. PLATE

PLATE

xv. A table setting of red lacquer dishes and gold place mats on a polished black table calls for

something special in the way of a centerpiece, and Mrs. Peterson has provided it in this

complemen-

tary red-green composition of fruit, leaves, and seed pods. The definite undulating movement of the central branch is repeated in the movement from red pods to green fruits in the centerpiece

itself,

and in the web of undulating felt lines which move across the centerpiece to connect each element of one setting with its counterpart on the other side. All of the floral materials are from the Java olive.

32

PLATE XIII

PLATE XIV

W I T H O U T L I G H T T H E V I S U A L ARTS COULD NOT E X I S T .

A sonata or

symphony could be heard and appreciated in total darkness, but a visual statement, in a sense, does not exist in the absence of light. We hear a great deal about special effects in connection with the theatre, and one of these is lighting. The play director expects his lighting expert not only to reveal and enhance the sets, costumes, and make-up, but to help create the mood as well. (One expert's dramatic lighting effects added so much to a New York production of Summer and Smoke that a critic commented that he, rather than Tennessee Williams, should be given author credits for the play as it was produced.) To this end the expert must control the kind, intensity, and direction of light. These same factors may be considered in connection with flower arrangement. Kind. This is difficult to control. Since a flower arrangement is ephemeral, lasting as a rule only a few days at most, there is a tendency to neglect light as a plastic element. Usually the composition is for an area for which the lighting is already fixed. Under these circumstances, it is best to create the arrangement in the environment in which it will be displayed, lest planned effects are changed or completely destroyed by the wrong kind of lighting. Fluorescent lighting, for instance, can do unexpected things to flowers just as certainly as a particular kind of street light can play havoc with one's complexion. Even under ordinary electric lights some flowers change color—a blue-purple sweet pea becomes red-purple—a change not only in color but in value. Intensity has to do with the amount of light. Certain reactions to light are universal—full bright sunlight is stimulating; twilight induces a thoughtful, pensive mood. The intensity of light playing on a flower arrangement should heighten the intended mood. Perception is dependent on the existence of contrast as much as it is on light. Shadows (reduced intensity) give added value to lighter areas. Without shadows there is no sense of form. Lighting can be used to heighten the three-dimensional quality of a flower arrangement, to help create depth and perspective. Flooding, especially with strong frontal lighting, will eliminate shadows and give a flat two-dimensional quality. Too little light or too many shadows can destroy subtle effects such as gradations of size or color. Experimenting with different intensities of light, e.g., playing a strong light at the base of a vertical arrangement and letting it grow less and less 37

Light

as it moves up until the top melts into the background, demonstrates how lighting alone can transform an almost banal composition into something lyrical. T h e reflective capacity of the background must be considered, too. If it is excessive, the arrangement will seem inadequately lighted. Remove the highlight and the composition will spring immediately to life. Direction. Light coming from one direction can destroy the unity of a composition by emphasizing one area at the expense of the rest. Light from a single overhead source flattens a composition and divides it horizontally, leaving the lower part in deep shadow. Careful backlighting can create dramatic effects, with shadows and silhouettes and the illusion of space. Light, then, quite apart from its subsidiary function of illuminating and revealing, is a plastic element of potent expressive and evocative power, and should be considered, along with space, line, form, texture, and color, as an integral part of a visual composition—not something accidental, imposed as an afterthought, and entrusted to whoever happens to reach up and turn on the light. In other words, light not only makes a flower composition visible; it enters into it and transforms it into something more— or less—than it would be otherwise.

PLATE xvi. In this arrangement, backlighting accents the transparency of the crystal container and the water, and by adding shadows and silhouettes, creates the feeling of wonder of discovering water lilies by moonlight. PLATE xvii. Lavender Pontederia in an ascending movement counterbalance water lilies spilling downward from a basket into an Oriental vendor's wooden carrier. Subtle rather than dramatic lighting repeats the mass shapes in shadowy counterpart, and blends the diverse materials in a soft play of middle and silver greys, with texture a strong factor in the total visual effect. PLATE xvm. The lighting here accents the graceftd form of a crystal container, imparts a jewel-like quality to the red coffee berries, and invests a simple, unstudied arrangement with ethereal beauty.

PLATE x v i

PLATE XVII

PLATE XVIII

T h e Principles

state of things in which there is no law or order or justice. Faced with unrelated fragments, basically meaningless and haphazard elements, he sets about organizing them into a dynamic whole. It is in this desire to clarify and order his material, this need to give it meaningful form, that art arises. Susanne K. Langer defines art as the creation of forms symbolic or expressive of human feeling, and calls attention to the difference between an artifact and a work of art. While an artifact is a mechanically contrived combination or arrangement of materials to suit a human purpose, a work of art is more than that. It is created to express meaning inherent in the work itself, and in the process of creation something new emerges: the whole becomes more than the sum total of its parts. Each element becomes involved with every other element, so that the very life of the whole depends on this involvement. This involvement of parts, this indivisibility, resembles that of living things, and gives to a work of art organic structure and intrinsic meaning. If we examine living forms we discover that an original disparity has been brought together to form a unit, sometimes indescribably complex. But the parts themselves have not been lost. They are still there, to be seen, enjoyed, and remembered in and of themselves, but, perhaps more importantly, as parts of the larger whole. A tree, for instance, is composed of flowers and leaves and roots and branches, which may be enjoyed separately or as a unit. A tree is also the transiency of leaves and flowers that unfold and die caught in a relatively permanent form. Here we have the so-called twins of aesthetic history: variety in unity, unity in variety. The artist faces the problem of how to achieve, in his particular medium, vitality and organic structure. Granted that art is the creation of forms expressive of human feeling, how does one go about creating sensory patterns to represent abstract ideas? Specifically for us, how does one transmute the visual turmoil of a mass of floral materials into a controlled expression which has vitality and organic structure? Centuries of struggle and experiment in the visual arts have led to the discovery of certain basic principles, capable of infinite variation, to guide the artist. These are not rules; they are principles according to which the elements may be organized to create a work of art. These principles, as they will be discussed here, are: dominance, balance, variation, repetition, opposition, transition, and movement. M A N , IT SEEMS, CANNOT BEAR CHAOS—that

43

O N E OF T H E P R I N C I P L E S BY W H I C H U N I T Y ,

and therefore beauty, is

achieved is that of dominance. T h e artist in any field has vast reservoirs of material from which to draw. For the poet there are innumerable themes, for the novelist countless human situations, for the painter inexhaustible sources of inspiration. And in the realm of flower arrangement there is the prodigality of Nature. Once the theme or situation or approach has been decided upon, the artist is ready to organize his materials according to the principle of dominance—the principle by which one object or order becomes supreme; by which the parts are organized around and subordinated to one motivating idea, the strength and clarity of which determines the unity of the composition. It is the principle by which the important is separated from the less important, superficialities and irrelevancies are discarded, differences are discovered and eventually harmonized. In other words, it is the principle by which the separate units are "stamped with a blood-bond!' In Nature, one of the dominating elements of growing things, as they push upward to the light, is verticality. A poplar tree presents a complex system of linear movements—trunk, branches, leaves, and even the veinings in the leaves—organized into a simple whole with verticality dominant. A weeping willow or an umbrella-shaped monkeypod presents a different way of reconciling opposing linear movements. Each of the countless objects in Nature is an example of emphasis and subordination with regard to the plastic element of line. T h e application of the law of emphasis and subordination involves decisions as to point of view and center of interest. A woman furnishing her livingroom must decide, first, the general character of the room, and, second, the principal points of emphasis. For her main point of emphasis she may have to choose among a grand piano, a fireplace, or a majestic view, but choose she must or the end product of her labors will be little more than what she started with: a roomful of furniture with no definite character, no central point of interest, no oneness. T h e application of the principle of dominance may vary from direct and obvious to extremely subtle. In a visual composition the focal point may draw the attention at once, or it may be a less obvious culmination of subtle linear and pattern movements. T h e number of focal points a flower arrangement should have depends on many things, such as conceptual approach, the materials used, and the occasion for which it is designed. 45

D o m i n a n c e

One way to achieve emphasis is through size. Generally speaking, and with due respect for proportion, a large area is more dramatic than a smaller one: ten yellow daffodils have more impact than a single blossom. On the other hand, a smaller area may become a focal point by virtue of uniqueness—a single white flower against a mass of blue ones—or by virtue of contrast—a child's red ball against a green expanse of lawn. Grouping of important elements is another way to achieve emphasis. The repetition throughout a composition of the shape, color, texture, or linear direction of the principal group will act as an integrating factor. Or grouping may be according to the principle of radiation from a dominant center or axis. Since it is a deep-rooted trait of human nature to respond to that which is different, it may be that an unusual shape or color becomes the focal point. In a floral composition it may be an exotic blossom, an unexpected combination of materials, or merely a twisted branch that provides the dominant note. Sometimes there is the feeling about a visual composition that it just misses saying what it started out to say; the effect is like that of hearing a poem read with the wrong emphasis or a musical work played slightly out of tune. But when the artist has successfully applied the principle of dominance, the composition will seem to be the perfect solution. It will have a look of inevitability, and a feeling Leonardo da Vinci spoke of, that each "part is disposed to unite with the whole, that it may thereby escape from its own incompleteness!' PLATE xix. The opening of the Honolulu Academy of Arts'1 new wing called for something unusual in the way of beauty, scale, and dignity. Spiraling verticality on a grand scale, suggesting

permanence

and abundant growth, is the dominant note of this dynamic and powerful arrangement of goldbrown flower sheaths from the coconut palm. PLATE xx. With characteristic originality, Mrs. Peterson has combined the elegance of gardenias and the simple unpretentiousness of ti leaves and a wicker basket. The unexpectedness

of the combina-

tion and the plastic use of ti leaves saves the arrangement from any touch of the banal. The whiteness of the blossoms is the dominant note, with the colors of the leaves and basket subordinate. PLATE xxi. The rickshaw on the Oriental screen in the background inspired Mrs. Peterson to create this arrangement of heliconia, baby orchids, and ti leaves. The circular wheel of heliconia bracts radiating from a central axis is the point of emphasis, with the linear movement of the handles subordinate. The color scheme is warm with cool accents. The stringy, whisker-like orchid roots, which the amateur would probably remove, act as transition from the freshness of the flower arrangement to the antiquity of the screen.

PLATE x i x

PLATE XX

PLATE XXI

is one of the basic conditions of life. Equally basic is the dynamic tendency toward balance, the need to bring opposing forces into some kind of equilibrium, the feeling that imbalance is contrary to our sense of fitness. This ordered arrangement of conflicting forces is one of the most important conditions of unity. There are two general types of balance: symmetric and asymmetric. Symmetric balance, the simpler and more obvious, is sometimes called axial balance since it is achieved by the equal distribution of identical or very similar parts in relation to a central axis. Perfect symmetry results when the elements are repeated in mirror image on either side of the axis; approximate symmetry when the two sides, though different in form, are still similar enough that the axis is positive. The general tendency is to employ symmetrical balance, partly because it is easier to achieve. It gives a feeling of permanence and repose; the results are inclined to be formal, stately, or dignified. The chief hazard is that they may become static, obvious, inert, or tiresomely "perfect!' A variation of symmetric is radial balance. Here the control of opposing forces is by rotation around a dominant center or axis. Flowers are examples, as are the rose windows of the great cathedrals. Radial balance creates a strong sense of circular movement, and is particularly well-suited to three-dimensional art forms such as flower composition. Asymmetric or informal balance is the control of opposing forces through a felt center of gravity. Equilibrium is achieved by playing dissimilar elements against each other; by opposing unlike movements, colors, or textures; by balancing a solid with a space, a strong color with a muted one, a large element with a group of smaller ones. It is a tense equilibrium, more difficult to achieve than symmetric balance; yet the effect is one of movement, spontaneity, and casualness. Being dynamic, its range is infinite. More flexible than symmetric balance, it fits especially the complexity of three-dimensional design. However, at the same time that it permits greater freedom, it demands stricter control. The severity of symmetric balance may be relieved by the use of asymmetric patterns within the total composition. Or, a three-dimensional design seen from one angle may be symmetric, from another asymmetric. The human body from the front is symmetric, from the side asymmetric. It is obvious that asymmetry is more expressive of present-day uncertainty and turbulence than symmetry, with its definitely classical feeling. C O N F L I C T OF O P P O S I N G FORCES

51

Balance

PLATE XXII.

In this dignified composition of tropical leaves, the formal balance established in the lower

part by the perfect symmetry and lattice-like effect of the coconut frond is relieved by the casual, fluid lines and heart-shaped leaves of the taro vine. The vertical linear movement of the arrangement as a whole is echoed in the lines of the panelled wall behind it. PLATE XXIII.

Asymmetric balance enhances the contrasts of texture, line, form, and color in Mrs. Pe-

terson's daring combination of diverse materials, with its central circular mass of soft pink plumeria blossoms from which radiate stiff, tentacle-like brown PLATE

stems and buds of the octopus tree in

maroon-to-

coloring. xxiv. Here we have another unexpected

combination

of materials: brilliant

baby orchids, their long stems radiating from a shiny, dark-brown

center composed of

orange-colored elephant-ear

pods. The symmetric balance of the arrangement, against a silver screen and flanked by bronze candlesticks, gives an air of

52

semiformality.

PLATE XXII

PLATE XXIII

P L A T E XXIV

HOGARTH ONCE WROTE:

"HOW

great a share variety has in producing

beauty may be seen in the ornamental part of Nature. T h e shapes and colors of plants, flowers, leaves, the paintings in butterflies' wings, shells, etc., seem of little other intended use, than that of entertaining the eye with the pleasure of variety. All the senses delight in it, and equally are averse to sameness. . . . Yet when the eye is glutted with a succession of variety, it finds relief in a certain degree of sameness; and even plain space becomes agreeable, and properly introduced and contrasted with variety, adds to it more variety. I mean here, and everywhere, indeed, composed variety; for variety uncomposed, and without design, is confusion and deformity!' In other words, while the senses do delight in variety, still in art it must be controlled variety. Too little and monotony sets in; too much and the effect is chaotic. But even more important, each separate unit must contribute to the dominant single expression of the whole. It must be variety in unity—an ideal held since the beginnings of art. One of the best ways to achieve controlled variety in any art form is through the development or expansion of various aspects of the basic idea. T h e great musicians have shown the infinite possibilities of variation: the main theme of a musical work appears over and over again, each time with new and different beauty. T h e playwright knows that each word, and in turn each incident and subplot, must justify its own existence by delineating character and advancing the action in terms of the main plot. Within limits, the more variety he introduces in the form of related incident and subplot the more interesting and forceful the impact of the play. In a flower arrangement, if the intent is to create a feeling of soaring verticality each element introduced should echo, strengthen, support, or, by contrast, enhance this basic theme. Otherwise the result will be merely a collection of floral materials, episodic, choppy, or confusing, as though the artist half-way through his work had forgotten what he started out to say. There is an implication of this feeling in the description of a camel as an animal that looks like a horse that has been assembled by a committee. There is always the question of how much variety to introduce into a composition. It is natural for the artist to strive to find more and more new ways to express his idea. This is where scope comes in; obviously a symphony would permit and demand more variety than a sonata. Presumably, a flower composition for a significant occasion would permit more variation than one for a family dinner table. However, within the 57

Variation

limitations of basic idea and scope, the more ways in which the theme is stated and expanded by means of the different plastic elements, the more interesting the flower composition. Variety inevitably introduces contrast, and it is the clash of opposites that gives vitality to a composition.

PLATE

xxv. This pu'olo, or gift Hawaiian style, demonstrates Mrs. Peterson's ability to combine such

diverse tropical materials as fruit, heliconia, ti leaves, and a white plumería lei into an arrangement reflecting the informality of Hawaii. A unifying element is the boat-shaped outline of the heliconia bracts, repeated in the fruit, the curved ti leaves, even in the flower petals of the lei. PLATE

xxvi. Water lilies in a nosegay arrangement, combined with ceramic accessories and set on a

black teak table, give an air of prim yet delicate formality. The principal unifying element is the color scheme of delicate pink and yellow and deep rich green. PLATE

xxvii. Substituting pineapple for banana, but otherwise using the same materials, Mrs. Peterson

has created another pu'olo, this one more striking and dynamic than the first. This is a gift for an important occasion, for royalty perhaps.

PLATE x x v

is another basic principle of beauty. W e feel the continuity of life itself through the basic rhythms of Nature: the ebb and flow of tides; the endless repetitions of day and night, of the seasons, of birth and death, and of decay and resurrection. Life, with its rhythmic repetitions, has been likened to a great river flowing on and on. C O N T I N U I T Y , OR T H E CLOSE U N I O N OF P A R T S ,

T h e individual, consciously or unconsciously, creates a continuity of character by the w a y he meets life. Repeated instances of courage or sincerity, no matter how diverse his problems, create a recognizable pattern which society labels good, just as repeated instances of cowardice or crime are labeled bad. Visually, too, he creates a continuity, by the w a y he dresses, the environment he chooses, the colors, textures, or shapes that he prefers. It is the weak, uncertain, undisciplined person who acts on impulse that we cannot depend on, since there is no continuity to recognize in him. Each act stands by itself, alone, unintegrated, unpredictable. Continuity helps make it possible to "read" an object in art or Nature. It gives emphasis or intensity to rhythmic elements and creates beauty by integrating and harmonizing parts into a connected whole. In the visual arts, as in life itself, continuity is achieved through repetition and progression. Repetition, as used here, is the recurrence of units or modules in rhythmic order. T h e element of rhythm is important; merely duplicating a unit over and over does not create beauty. A row of identical things does not necessarily have art value. But repetition of a module with an attempt at fine spacing, with the intention of creating harmony—this is the beginning of art. It is the oldest form of design, is almost as instinctive as breathing or walking, and probably derives from our feeling for the great rhythms of Nature. In flower arrangement, one or more visual qualities such as color, texture, shape, size, or direction may be repeated again and again until a pattern is established. This repeating of a module may serve either to integrate the structure or as a foundation for other developments of design. Repetition may be exact or varied. Nature obviously prefers varied repetition, for she repeats herself endlessly in flowers, leaves, snowflakes, and fingerprints, but throughout time never are any two exactly alike. To avoid the danger of simple repetition becoming monotonous, a change in relationships may be accomplished by the dynamic device of

¿3

Repetition

progression. In music, the crescendo, the gradual increase of volume and tone, builds tension and excitement. In flower arrangement a similiar effect may be produced by a size progression from small units to larger ones; a color progression from, say, dusty pink through dull red to bright red; or by a shape progression like that of waves mounting higher and higher before they break upon the shore. Repetition, then, is more than a simple recurrence of units. It includes rhythmical order and relationships in which the plastic elements repeat and recall each other and unite to create an integrated whole.

This almost frenzied arrangement of a single kind of floral material, Java olive pods and branches, designed for the entrance of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, has scale, beauty, and distinction. The strange linear movement of the stems and branches interrupts the repeated circular movement of the pods and clumps of pods, which is further repeated in the circular pattern of the handsome iron gates. The danger of monotony is avoided by strong color contrasts in the pods themselves—grey-green through deep green and orange through red-orange to deep ruby-red—and by texture contrasts benoeen the rough, dry, stringy tree-fern container and the smooth, almost lacquered finish of the pods. PLATE XXVIII.

PLATE xxix. Stalks of giant bamboo, repeated in pairs and these in progressively larger pairs, stand like sentinels outside the entrance to the Honolulu Academy of Arts. Diagonal slicing of the stalks has created interesting oval shapes, repeated in miniature, which in turn accent the vertical movement of the composition as a whole. The rough raffia ties provide contrast to the hard smooth surface of the bamboo, at the same time repeating the horizontal line of the nodes. PLATE xxx. Casual elegance describes this arrangement of amber-to-brovm woodroses in an iridescent silver-green Han vase. Here we have a muted color scheme with simple, unstudied repetition of blossom-like shapes, in contrast to the planned formal repetition of the bamboo stalks in the previous arrangement.

PLATE XXVIII

is the aesthetic conflict between opposing forces in a work of art. T h e principle of opposition, change, or contradiction, seems to be instinctive in man; but he lives in a world of contradictions, day and night, summer and winter, pain and pleasure, love and hate, good and evil, birth and death, mortality and immortality. O P P O S I T I O N , AS U S E D H E R E ,

Instinctively or consciously the artist introduces opposing forces into his composition and thereby gives it life. His opposites may be those of light and shadow; of horizontal and vertical lines; of large and small, fluid and solid, round and angular shapes; of rough and smooth textures, of bright and dull, warm and cold colors; of concave and convex areas. He may even play one set of opposites against another or against some other aspect of the total composition. Instinctive use of opposition is found in the dynamic structure of primitive sculpture, where concave surfaces alternate with convex, creating a vigorous undulating movement. In flower arrangement the artist deals not only with the deliberate contradictions he introduces, but with a wealth of natural opposites—vertical trunk and horizontal branch, soft petals and rough bark, brilliant flowers against duller hues of branch and seed, the fragile and ephemeral quality of a blossom against the more enduring quality of plant life itself. T h e more contradiction in a visual statement the greater the variety, and the stronger the potential for a vital, significant composition. But here, as in life, the elements in conflict must be united in a greater harmony. Just as birth and death together make up what we call life, as they are reconciled and reintegrated into a larger concept, so contradictions in a composition must be reconciled in terms of each other and in terms of the whole. True peace is the "hidden attunement of opposite tensions"; true harmony holds everything in balance, even in the midst of conflict. H o w much opposition to introduce is a matter of the temperament of the artist and the mood he hopes to achieve. Obviously, if he wants to convey repose he will not use fast, slashing, horizontal and vertical lines, or brilliant colors in harsh juxtaposition, or a conglomeration of shapes held together in asymmetric balance. On the other hand, if he wants to convey the speed and turbulence of modern life he will not use muted colors, gently curving lines, or graceful shapes held in symmetric balance. Generally speaking, the greater the number of contradictory elements the more dynamic the composition—assuming always, of course, that they have been reconciled into a larger harmony. 69

Opposition

PLATE xxxi. In this symmetrical arrangement of grey-green agave leaves for the opening of the new wing of the Honolulu Academy of Arts, we feel the strong, upward vertical thrust of growing things, and, in opposition, the downward-curving movement of the individual leaves radiating from a central axis.

The strongest opposition in this bizarre arrangement of heliconia leaves and stems is in the linear movements. Lines radiating from a central core extend in opposite directions and at various angles. Curled leaves, in direct opposition to the rigid, straight stems, provide a minor accent.

PLATE XXXII.

Mrs. Peterson's use of opposition in this arrangement includes the soft curves of leaves and bracts in contrast to the vertical linear force of the stems, and, more importantly, the informal, almost careless treatment of the rare exotic floral materials. It is as though she recognizes that the stately Heliconia caribaea, in its rare container, conscious of its own beauty and distinction, disdains to be "arranged'.' PLATE XXXIII.

PLATE XXXI

PLATE XXXII

PLATE XXXIII

O N E OF M A N Y D E F I N I T I O N S

describes beauty as consisting of "elements

of difference harmonized by elements of unity." T h e bridge between these elements of difference is called transition. Our daily lives are marked with a multitude of natural transitions. Twilight eases day into night; spring eases winter into summer. T h e light green of new foliage shades gradually into darker green. T h e calyx of a flower effects a gradual form and color transition to the stem. There are man-made transitions, too: shrubbery planted at the foundation of a house to soften the intersection of vertical and horizontal planes; hallways as transitions from room to room. In personal relations, the introduction of two strangers by a mutual friend provides transition from unawareness of each other to awareness. In opera, the overture serves as transition to the musical work to follow. Architects in Hawaii have done much to provide easy transition from indoors to outdoors by using wide openings, low thresholds, floor-to-ceiling windows, and indoor planting. T h e function of transition, then, is to contribute to the organic unity and clarity of a visual statement by acting as a bridge between the various parts. Two straight lines meeting at right angles create the impression of violence, the emphasis being on the clash of opposites. A n element introduced at the point of intersection, however, joins the opposing forces, acts as transition, and achieves the effect of unity. In a flower arrangement conceived in terms of colors from opposite sides of the hue circuit, intermediate hues, values, and intensities, acting as transition, soften the contrast. Similarly, shadows act as transition between dark and light areas; relatively plain surfaces reconcile extremes of texture; an accessory helps to integrate an arrangement into its environment. Depending on the effect desired, transition may be abrupt, gradual, or extremely subtle. Bold, dramatic, even violent expression may be heightened by sudden, abrupt transitions, or in some instances by omitting the element of transition entirely. A more gradual movement from unit to unit would change the character of the composition. It is enlightening to think of one's acquaintances in terms of their method of transition—subtle, gradual, or abrupt—from one incident of daily life to the next. Transition, then, is an integrating factor which helps to fuse a variety of units into an organic whole. But even more important, in that it contributes to the total dimension and thereby affects the ultimate character, it is an integral part of a visual composition. 75

'PJ-ansition

PLATE

xxxiv. Here Mrs. Peterson has combined diverse materials to provide transitions: of color,

from

soft lavender pink through red to deep maroon; of texture, from one feathery bromeliad to a stiff brush-like bromeliad;

of mass, from the open croton "roses" to the solid pomegranates.

"rose" and the pomegranates

The single

provide transition between the arrangement in the bronze

container

and the surface of the table. PLATE

xxxv. In this composition,

curved, ribbon-like

Mrs. Peterson has used the palm leaf as an integrating factor.

strands which lie on the black lacquer table. They also repeat the lines of the marble plaque to simulate flowing water in which swims a dark fish of carved and lacquered wood. The scheme is analogous, with the soft yellow-green

carved color

of the leaves acting as transition from the yellow and

bronze chrysanthemums to the gold and orange-red of the table mats and lacquer PLATE

The

leaf acts as transition from the vertical movement at the center to the sweeping

bowls.

xxxvi. In this unexpected combination, whiteness and frilled edges, as well as the linear move-

ment of the vine, act as transition from the fragile orchid blossoms in the antique bronze container to the coral rock reflected as in a pool on the mirror-like surface of the black lacquer

table.

PLATE XXXIV

GYORGY K E P E S WROTE:

"One cannot gaze long at a static relationship

without losing interest any more than one can survive for long in a sealed room when the supply of oxygen is soon exhausted.... The eye and mind must be fed by changing visual relationships!' Change implies motion. In art it implies, not undisciplined motion, but orderly patterned movement, with its regular recurrence of like features, or rhythm. Rhythm, or the dynamic tendency of interval and void, is a powerful expressive and evocative force, pervading art and Nature. It finds its most obvious expression in music and dance. In music it is the measured and balanced movement of sound, with recurrent lighter and heavier accents, creating in its hearers an emotional and even a felt muscular response. It makes bodily movements more pleasant, simple tasks easier. It even makes marching off to war more bearable. In the visual arts, rhythm is the patterned sequence, the continuing, recurring, and developing arrangement of optical units—space, line, form, texture, color, and light—so that the eye follows paths established by the designer. In its way, rhythm in the visual arts may be soothing as a lullaby, mincing and proper as a minuet, or pulsating and vigorous as martial music. It may be direct and primitive as jungle tomtoms, or complicated and sophisticated as a symphony. Movement implies variety of locations—places to go to and from, areas that draw the eye on and on to ultimate comprehension of the entire visual statement. However, if the principle of unity is not to be violated, these locations must be joined in some way and eventually integrated into the whole. It is the establishment of these locations of interest and their reintegration that creates movement. In flower composition, each floral element has its own rhythmical activity, its own inherent movement. It has, also, the dynamic tendency to go beyond itself, to grow, to lead the eye on to recurring elements in the total composition. Movement, then, is from element to group, and from group to group—a progressive organization of the parts into a forceful continuity. Movement has at least three general characteristics. It has direction— ascending or descending, expanding outward to the edges or moving inward toward the center. A second characteristic is rate of movement, slow and gentle, rapid and vigorous, or somewhere in between. The rate within a given composition may change, decreasing or increasing, just as sounds in music may diminish or rise to a crescendo. The third character81

M o v e m e n t

istic concerns the kind of movement. It may be continuous in a straight or rotary direction, or it may be an undulating movement or a spiral. It may be direct and firm, or it may wind and twist, losing its way and finding it again, as a river meanders through a peaceful landscape. It may be constant or frequently interrupted, either by subtle stages of progression or by sudden violent change. Movement may be established by one element, say color, and then repeated by others, each with its own sensory qualities. The rate, direction, and kind of movement in a flower composition should, of course, be conceived in terms of the basic idea. Rhythm may vary from simple to complex. The simple rhythms are so much a part of our daily lives that we take them for granted—the even spacing of buttons on a coat, of fence posts, or of railroad ties that carry the eye for miles in one direction. We become aware of them only when they are interrupted, when a missing button has to be replaced or a fence mended. This is the hazard of simple rhythms: that they become monotonous, uninteresting, sterile, or even distasteful. Movement by geometric progression, e.g., shapes repeated in increasing or diminishing size, hues in increasing or diminishing intensity or value, is more dynamic than mere repetition at regular intervals. In simple rhythm, curves may unfold from curves, but if they unfold in regularly increasing sizes and with other accompanying geometric progressions of, say, color and texture, interest and complexity are added. In a flower arrangement the focal points of interest, the indicated linear directions, and the force of the various ideas of movement should work together to create complete and self-contained visual units that keep the eye moving within the composition until the attention is exhausted.

Huge, grey-green agave leaves emerge from the floor area, with only a few stones as transition, to create a forceful, undulating upward-spiraling movement, which is repeated in silhouette on the concrete pillar behind it. So suitable are all of the elements—size, color, mass, line, and texture—that the over-all effect is one of inevitability. PLATE XXXVII.

xxxviii. Polished surf boards and sea grapes in a hapu'u container are the main elements in this almost classic arrangement at the Bernice P. Bishop Museum in Honolulu. The movement is one of advancing vertically, as of Hawaiian warriors marching.

PLATE

xxxix. The gentle movement outward from a central core begins in the succulents at the heart of the arrangement, then changes abruptly to vigorous, upward-curving motion of the tentacle-like branches of another succulent. The color scheme is cool—monochromatic. PLATE

82

PLATE XXXVII

PLATE XXXVIII

PLATE XXXIX

M r s . C a r o l i n e E. P e t e r s o n

C o n t a i n e r s and Accessory Elements

IT IS EASY TO SAY that in the selection of containers and accessory elements one should be guided b y good taste, appropriateness, and common sense. Since these words are not easily defined, perhaps a better approach is f r o m the point of v i e w that the container and accessories are integral parts of the total composition, and furthermore that great care must be taken in all transitional relationships between the composition and its environment, including the surface on which the arrangement is placed and the background against which it is displayed. O n l y then can a flower composition take 011 its true dimension as a w o r k of art. W i t h this in mind it is possible to give a f e w suggestions. A container or accessory should never destroy the total unity. N o matter h o w beautiful or striking a container, it is w r o n g if it competes with rather than supports the center of interest, if its hue disrupts the artist's color plan, if its noticeable texture destroys intended subtlety, if its apparent or actual weight changes the character of the arrangement, or if its associational elements blur the total statement. Accessories, usually elements other than floral materials, add supporting interest, give balance, or act as accents; they should have their o w n integrity and beauty and should be selected with great care. T h i s is not to say that one should avoid striking containers or unusual accessories. A

Han vase, a Hawaiian calabash, an Oriental bronze, a

Hamada ceramic pot, or even as unconventional an object as a rice bucket or vendor's tray may be the inspiration f o r an arrangement, but eventually it must take its place as an integral part of the compositional structure. A modest yet flexible basic collection of containers w o u l d include modern and antique pieces—one or t w o of glass or crystal, some of w o o d in natural and lacquered finish, a f e w ceramics with matt and glazed finish, and some of such metals as bronze, copper, pewter, or brass. In selecting containers it is well to concentrate on f o r m , since in this realm f o r m is more important than color or texture. A low horizontal container is usually more informal than a taller one. A s a rule, the simple one, unadorned and of muted color, is more versatile than the one of unusual shape, noticeable texture, bright color, or striking design. It goes without saying that one should ruthlessly discard the banal, "cleveri' "interesting" containers that well-intentioned friends arc sometimes prone to donate. A n d one more w o r d of warning—design should never be sacrificed f o r effect. 89

PLATE XLI

PLATE

xLi. Tools and materials, including papaia, spiked holder, and greening pins for

vegetable tying.

anchoring; slicer, scissors, clippers, and knife for cutting; copper wire, ti leaves, and pandanus for

PLATE XLH.

A roll of pandanus and a basket fashioned around a metal

container.

PLATE XLIII. Basket -with tailored bows made from coconut fronds, with midribs forming the vertical lines of the container.

PLATE XLIV.

Coconut leaves woven into a mat and the extended ends tied to create a basket.

Form is the emphasis in this collection ranging from the most unassuming container to the priceless museum piece. PLATE XLV.

PLATE XLVI. Dramatic texture contrast is created by two "roses" made from elephant-ear pods, the dark mahogany one in its natural state, the other covered with a celadon-green mold of age.

PLATE XLVII.

Croton "rose" and ti leaves.

A priceless Hawaiian temple image, from the Bernice P. Bishop Museum, between two kahilis (regal symbols) created by Mrs. Peterson in the royal colors from yellow plumeria and deep-orange baby orchids. PLATE XLVIII.

PLATE XLII

MS

PLATE XLIV

PLATE XLV

PLATE XLVI

PLATE XLVII

Acknowledgments

To bring this book into being required the interest and collaboration of many friends. Without their help it could never have been written. We are deeply indebted to the Honolulu Academy of Arts, to its director, Mr. Robert P Griffing, J r . , and to its former director, Mr. Edgar Schenck, for long and continued support of the artist's work. During the preparation of the manuscript, Mr. GrifRng's kindness in placing staff and facilities as well as individual art objects at our disposal was most appreciated. Dr. Alexander Spoehr and Dr. Roland W Force of the Bernice R Bishop Museum allowed us to work with rare Hawaiian sculpture and other authentic materials, and were unfailingly co-operative in permitting galleries to be disrupted and even closed for photographic purposes. Among those who read the manuscript and made valuable suggestions, we are particularly indebted to MisS A'lyóe Ho'ogS of the Honolulú Academy'of'Arts for her wise and sensitive counsel and to Mrs. Alice Spalding Bowen whose aesthetic judgment is unequalled. Professors Murray Turnbull and Ben Norris of the University of Hawaii A r t Department gave us the benefit of their knowledge and critical judgment in solving problems of expression and art terminology. Many institutions and shops were most generous in offering their services and in allowing us to use their locations and art objects. Particular mention should be made of T h e Lacquer Shop, Robert Ansteth, Ltd., Kamehameha Schools, and Joji's. Among the many, many friends who have given lasting encouragement, not only by their whole-hearted interest and support, but by their generosity in opening their homes, providing floral materials from their gardens, and lending valuable containers and accessories from their collections, are the following: Mrs. Thomas S. Abel, Mrs. Charles Adams, Mrs. Wallace Alexander, Mrs. Carl J . Allenbaugh, Mr. Robert Allerton, Mr. Robert Ansteth, Mrs. C. C. Bailey, Mrs. Harry A. Baldwin, II, Mrs. Samuel Baldwin, Mr. Don Blanding, Mrs. Alice Spalding Bowen, Mrs. E. P Boyle, Mrs. Frank W Broadbent, Miss Dorothy E. Brown, Mrs. Edward Brown, Mrs. C. H. Burnett, Miss Helen Burton, Mrs. A. J . Campbell, Mrs. A. N . Campbell, Mrs. A. L. Castle, Mrs. Edward Cherry, Mr. Wilbert Choi, Dr. and Mrs. Horace E Clay, Mrs. Allen Chickering, Mrs. George R Cooke, Mrs. Harrison Cooke, Mrs. C. Montague Cooke, Jr., Mrs. Richard A. Cooke, Mrs. Theodore A. Cooke, Mrs. Isaac Cox, Mr. J . Halley Cox, Mrs. Alice Broadbent Crabbe, Mrs. Frank Crawford, Mrs. R. G . A. Crowe. Mrs. Cyril E Damon, Miss Daphne Damon, Miss May Damon, Mr. Roxor Damon, Mrs. Elsie J . Das, Mrs. S. A. Derby, Mrs. Walter E Dillingham, Mrs. Herbert M. Dowsett, Dr. and Mrs. Gustav Ecke, Mrs. Joseph R. Farrington, Mrs. Bernice

PLATE XLVIII

Fong, Mrs. Richard Frazier, Mr. Walter F. Frear, Mrs. Carter Gait, Mrs. Henry Gaylord, Mr. Mochin Gaza, Mr. Damon Giffard, Mrs. Julie Damon Giffard, Mr. John Gregg, Mr. Robert E Griffing, Jr., Miss Renee Halbedl, Miss Charlotte Hall, Mrs. H. E. Hall, Mrs. Fritz Hart, Mrs. Homer Hayes, Irene Hayes, Mrs. Harry Hayward, Mrs. Emma Hausten, Mrs. Clifford B. High, Miss Alyce Hoogs, Mrs. Kathryn M. Hutchinson, Mr. Henry Inn, Mrs. Hans Isenberg, Miss Leonebel Jacobs, Mrs. Ralph B. Johnson, Mrs. James R. Judd. Mr. George Kajihiro, Princess Abigail Kawananakoa, Mrs. Stanley C. Kennedy, Mrs. George E Kimball, Mrs. Clifford Kimball, Mrs. Richard K. Kimball, Mrs. J. M. Kuhns, Mrs. A. Lewis, Jr., Miss Mary Low, Mrs. F D. Lowrey, Mr. Harry Lucas, Mrs. Hue M. Luquiens, Mrs. Lester McCoy, Mrs. Thomas MacDonald, Mrs. Malcolm Macintyre, Mrs. Stanley Mackenzie, Mrs. Robert J. McLean, A4rs. Robert O. McLean, Mrs. Aida Ducato Miller, Mrs. H. Wentworth Mist, Mrs. H. G. Moir, Mr. George H. Moody, Miss Helene Morgan, Mr. Thomas Nickerson, Mrs. Hans L'Orange, Mrs. Natsue Oyasato, Mrs. Fred Patterson, Mr. and Mrs. Edwin W Peterson, Mr. and Mrs. Fred J. Peterson, Mr. and Mrs. Robert H. Peterson, Mrs. Wayne Pflueger, Mrs. John C. Plews, Mrs. Alice F Poole, Mrs. C. Dudley Pratt, Mrs. Jack Radway, General and Mrs. E. W Rawlings, Mrs. Philip L. Rice, Mrs. William P Roth, Mrs. John Rothwell, Mrs. Annabelle Ruddle. Mr. Raymond Sato, Mrs. Rudolph Shaefer, Mrs. George Sherman, Mrs. Robert W Shingle, Mrs. Philip E. Spalding, Mrs. Alva E. Steadman, Mrs. Jeanne C. Stevens, Mr. and Mrs. Werner Stoy, Mrs. George W Sumner, Mrs. F M. Swanzy, Mrs. Hugh C. Tennent, Miss Wilhelmina Tenney, Mrs. Frank E. Thompson, Mrs. Robert O. Thompson, Mrs. Elva Tomowske, Mr. Richard Tongg, Mrs. Roy A. Vitousek, Mrs. Thomas M. Waddoups, Mr. George Wago, Mrs. H. Alexander Walker, Mrs. John T Warren, Mrs. Charles Weight, Mrs. Juliet Rice Wickman, Mrs. Chauncey B. Wightman, Mrs. Urban E. Wild, Mrs. James A. Wilder, Mrs. Gerrit Wilder, Mrs. Earl Kress Williams, Mrs. Emma Wilson, Mr. and Mrs. William H. Wright. Most of the pictures were taken by Werner Stoy, to whom photography is not merely a recording medium but an expressive art form. Other important contributors in this field are Raymond Sato (Plates xi, xix, X X V I I I , xxix, xxxi), Herbert R. Bauer (Plate XLI), Douglas M. Davidson (Plate viu), and Peter Nyholm (Plate xx). The sensitive brush drawing used on the case and title page was created by Tseng Yu-ho. The Hawaiian saying and translation on the epigraph page were contributed by Mrs. Mary K. Pukui and Dr. Samuel H. Elbert. It would be impossible to express the deep appreciation and gratitude for the guiding hand of Mrs. Aldyth Morris, managing editor of the University of Hawaii Press, in the complex editorial and production phases of this book. Without her wisdom and creative judgment it could never have come into being. A very special acknowledgment is due Mr. Thomas Nickerson, chairman of the University of Hawaii Press Committee, for his enthusiasm and important support. His unfailing belief over the years in the artist's work finds its culmination here. C.E K.K. ioo

Grateful acknowledgment is hereby made of those individuals listed below and all others whose financial assistance helped make this publication possible. THOMAS

NICKERSON

M R S . THOMAS S. ABEL, M R S . J O H N M . ABERNATHY, M R S . CARL J . ALLENBAUGH, M R . ROBERT ALLERTON, M R . AND M R S . JOSEPH BAKKEN, M R S . HELEN J . BALDWIN, M R S . ALICE SPALDING B O W E N , M R S . FRANK W . BROADBENT, MISS DOROTHY E. B R O W N , M R S . J . E . BURGER, GRACE W . BUSCHER, M R S . JESSIE P . CAMERON, MRS. J A M E S S. CAMPBELL, M R S . J A M E S W . CAMPBELL, MRS. NORTHROP CASTLE, M R S . RICHARD A. COOKE, M R S . THEODORE A. COOKE, M R S . FRANK CRAWFORD, MRS. CYRIL F. DAMON, M R S . ALAN DAVIS, MRS. WALTER F. DILLINGHAM, M R S . AGNES L. DONLON, M R S . W I L L I A M J . DONOVAN, MRS. HERBERT M . DOWSETT, M R S . FRANK A. DUPAR, SR., M R S . CLARA S. FISHER, M R S . GERALD W . FISHER, MRS. RICHARD FRAZIER, M R S . SAUVINET GARY, GENERAL M I L L S , INC., M I S S RENEE HALBEDL, MRS. H. E. HALL, M R . AND M R S . W . WRIGHT HENDERSON, M R S . CLIFFORD B. HIGH, MISS ALYCE HOOGS, MRS. KATHRYN M . HUTCHINSON, M I S S ELSIE K. ITOGA, M R S . J A M E S R. JUDD, M R S . RAYMOND F. KONG, M R . AND M R S . DONALD W . P . LARNACH, M R S . A. LEWIS, J R . , M R S . HUNG LUKE, MRS. LESTER M C C O Y , MRS. STANLEY M C K E N Z I E , M R S . ROBERT O. M C L E A N , M R S . AIDA DUCATO MILLER, MRS. H. W E N T W O R T H M I S T , M R S . H. G. M O I R , M R S . HARRY GAGE M O N T G O M E R Y , M R S . J O H N C. P L E W S , M R S . RICHARD P E N H A L L O W , M R . AND M R S . E D W I N W . PETERSON, M R . AND MRS. ROBERT H. PETERSON, GENERAL AND M R S . E. W . RAWLINGS, M R S . PHILIP L. RICE, M R S . W I L L I A M P. ROTH, M R S . ANNA HONG RUTT, M R S . CAROLINE SHIPM A N , M R S . M A R Y LI SIA, M R S . J E A N N E C. STEVENS, MRS. GEORGE W . S U M N E R , M R S . FRANK E. T H O M P S O N , M R S . ROBERT O. T H O M P S O N , MRS. ELVA T O M O W S K E , MRS. HELEN C. TWITCHELL, M R S . H . ALEXANDER WALKER, M R S . EDWARD BOWDITCH WATSON, M R S . E. R. W E I R , M R S . J U L I E T RICE W I C H M A N , M R S . CHAUNCEY B. W I G H T M A N , M R S . URBAN E. WILD, M R S . EARL KRESS W I L L I A M S , M R S . W . O. W I L L I A M S .

IOI

Glossary

Following are the botanical names of the flowers and plants referred to by their common names in the text and captions. African tulip: Spathodea

campamilata

orchids: Epidendrum

agave: see succulents

XXI, X X I V ) ,

aloe: see succulents

sis

bamboo, giant: Dendrocalamns

gigan-

banana: Musa acuminata X Musa balbisiana bromeliads: Pitcairnia xantho calyx and Aechmea sp.

(PLATK XXXIV)

carambola: Averrhoa coconut: Cocos

cyclo-

carpum maculata var.

citriodora flowering peach: Prunus persica jasminoides

hapu'u: fibrous part of tree-fern trunk used to make baskets or containers for plants

( P L A T E XXXVI)

caribaea

odoratissimus

papaia (papaya): Carica papaya pineapple: Ananas comosus plumeria: Plumeria acuminata X Plumeria rubra lanceolata

sea grape: Coccolobis

uvifera

Spanish moss: Tillandsia succulents:

(PLATF.S VII,

americana

Aloe

arbores-

xxxix),

Grapto-

(PLATES XXXI, XXXVII),

cens

usneoides

agave: Agave

petalum paraguayense

(PLATE XXXIX)

taro vine: Scindapsus aureus ti: Cordy line terminalis traveler's palm:

Ravenala

Madagas-

cariensis

heliconia: Heliconia xxi, xxv,

hybrid

royal poinciana: Delonix regia

elephant-ear tree: Enterolobium

gardenia: Gardenia

phalaenop-

Cattleya

Pontederia: Pontederia

nucifera

eucalyptus: Eucalyptus

(PLATES

pomegranate: Punica gra?iatum

carambola

coffee: Coffea arabica

XIV,

Dendrobium

(PLATE XXXVI),

pandanus: Pandanus

teus

hybrid

humilis

XXXII)

and

(PLATES

Heliconia

(PLATE XXXIII)

Java olive: Sterculia octopus tree: Brassaia

foetida

tree fern: Cibotium splendens or Cibotium glaucum water lily: Nymphaea

lotus

wood rose: Ipomoea tuber osa

actinophylla

T H E ART OF FLOWER ARRANGEMENT IN HAWAII was printed and bound at T h e W a r d Ritchie Press, Los Angeles, California. T h e text is Linotype Janson twelve point leaded four points. Display type is Janson in various sizes. Printing is by offset on Vicksburg paper, substance 80. T h e end leaves are Nelson-Whitehead Fabriano White. T h e cases are Nelson-Whitehead Roma Green paper on boards. T h e brush drawing for the title page is by T s e n g Yu-ho. T h e book was designed by Kenneth Kingrey. Its production was supervised by A l d y t h Morris, University of Hawaii Press.