Botany: Drawing from the Bark Collection at Kew Gardens
Bark and Lava
Hercules Seghers (Netherlands, 16th century) is one of my favorite artists. Only about ten of his works on paper still exist, some of which can be viewed by appointment in the British Museum’s Prints and Drawings Room.
His etchings are beautiful and incredibly experimental for their time. The landscapes are strangely unplaceable—although supposedly set in the Netherlands, they appear more like alien terrains.
I began to wonder how Seghers might have created these works. Having previously studied the paintings of Joachim Patinir, who was rumored to draw mountain forms in landscapes from rocks, I wondered if Seghers might have also drawn landscape forms from rocks or other organic materials. Looking closely at his landscapes, I realized the marks, shapes, and lines reminded me of bark formations. This seemed an interesting idea to investigate, so I decided to reinterpret some of his landscape compositions by drawing bark forms from life in place of the cliffs and jagged terrain he had depicted. I cut copper plates to the exact size of his works and began researching where I could find relevant pieces of bark to draw from.
Kew Gardens has the best bark collection in London, and I became curious about what such a collection would entail. I emailed the herbarium at Kew and arranged an appointment for the following week.
At 10 AM on July 14th, I was escorted by a botanist to the bark anatomist’s lab in the Joseph Banks building at Kew. Although the tree anatomist was not in the lab, we examined a few slides of bark that, when stained red, resembled human anatomy slides—planting new seeds in my imagination. The botanist suggested I might prefer to visit the bark collection in another building and meet curator Mark Nesbitt. While Mark wasn’t there, we met Chris, who oversees Chinese medicinal plants and collections at Kew.
Chris had several boxes of interesting bark specimens in her office. I almost immediately found pieces that I felt would work for my project and arranged them on a desk. Until this point, I was still unsure whether my theory about Seghers’ landscapes would hold up, but I was pleased to discover that the bark indeed mimicked the landscape forms sufficiently to convince myself (if no one else) that Seghers could have drawn his landscapes from bark.
I left with NHM curator Mark Nesbitt’s email address, looking forward to accessing the bark storage area to continue drawing Seghers-inspired landscapes. While waiting for Mark’s response (he was on holiday), I became curious about the similarities between the forms in Seghers’ landscapes and lava formations, especially after my recent trip to the Galápagos Islands where I had drawn numerous pieces of broken lava as rocky landscapes.
I contacted the curator of the Rock Room at UCL and asked if I could draw some lava specimens while waiting to access the bark collection at Kew. She offered to loan me some lava specimens that I could take to my studio. I collected the specimens from the Rock Room and transported them in numerous boxes on a trolley through London’s Underground, delighted by the notion that I was couriering lava through underground tunnels—which somehow felt quite appropriate!
I found that a mixture of lava and bark worked particularly well and kept the drawing process interesting. By this time, the curator of the bark collection at Kew had emailed me and granted permission for me to draw from their collection.
The bark storage area was very cold and filled with tall metal cabinets containing bark specimens and artifacts made from bark. After browsing several aisles, I spotted some seeds that resembled space aliens and was overwhelmed by the variety of barks in all shapes and sizes. I was left alone to select specimens to draw, which I did with great pleasure, noting the catalog numbers on sheets of paper and carefully placing each specimen in archive boxes.
Before I left to draw my selections, Mark took time to show me some unusual artifacts in the storage area: Japanese decorative sheets of bark that looked just like leather (used in place of leather in accordance with Buddhist philosophy) and paintings of seeds and flowers painted on the wood of the trees they grew from—both scientific specimens and works of art, which resonated strongly with my own approach.
The bark curator at Kew introduced me to an archaeology research student, which led to arranging a meeting with Ulrike Sommer at UCL to discuss drawing and archaeology in current educational practice.