Unlike most plant-kingdom oddities, aroids are surprisingly easy to grow. Many are useful, long-lasting tuberous perennials even though, like giant-leafed gunnera, they bring to mind the days of the dinosaurs. The little red point that emerges from the ground in early March seems to radiate primeval power. It grows quickly into a stalk that looks more like a creature than a plant, as packed with vigorous potential as Jack's beanstalk. The tightly curled, snakeskin-patterned stem hints at sinister contents. I'm always a little surprised when an Arisaema sikokianum, one of the loveliest and simplest to grow, tops out at a foot or so in height and unfurls its leaves into a tidy, upright shape rather than becoming something far larger and stranger.
They are strange enough, though. An aroid flagrantly reveals what Georgia O'Keefe's paintings glorified — that flowers are a plant's reproductive parts. The discreetly ruffled petals of pansies or roses lull the nonbotanists among us into forgetting the sexual potency of flowers. Such pretty plants are little girls in pinafores compared to the full-out flamboyance of these Sharon Stones and Mel Gibsons of the plant world. Believe me, you won't forget a flower's reproductive purpose when you grow an aroid or two. Whether you think aroids beautiful or bizarre or both, they're sure to get a reaction.
Commonly known as jack-in-the pulpit, they are fine foliage plants, having leaves marbled in silver or bordered in pink. Their hooded flowers are followed by red fruit. You can recognize aroids by the floral structure of petal-like leaf, called the spathe, and the flower-bearing protuberance, which is called the spadix. Relatives of the more familiar calla lilies, they are part of the family Araceae, which is one of the largest, weirdest and most diverse on the planet. They grow in deserts, the arctic and the tropics, in water and underground, and range from the size of a dot (duckweed) to taller than a person (the famously stinky Amorphophallus species). The family includes 3,200 species, but once we eliminate the exotic, the obscure and the ones that smell like rot, we're left with far fewer garden-worthy candidates.
The mouse plant (Arisarum proboscideum) is a little perennial that will spread to form a colony when given the woodland conditions (partial shade and moist soil) that most aroids prefer. Arrow-shaped, glossy leaves emerge in early spring and nearly conceal the subtly striped and hooded purplish-brown and white flowers, which have skinny arched tails visible above the blooms.
The darkly glamorous A. sikokianum blooms in mid-spring with leaves mottled in silver, and a deep maroon open spathe with delicate paler stripes. The darkness of the open hood sets off the snowy white throat and spadix. Moist soil and some shade encourage this perennial from southern Japan.
A. speciosum, or the cobra lily, is known as a whiplash arisaema because of the threadlike extension that dangles from its spadix. Though the plant only gets 2 feet high, this dark purple appendix can grow 32 inches long. The flower is a tube of whirled green and dark stripes, more closely resembling a calla lily than most other aroids. While it couldn't really be called pretty, it is a bit closer to what we think of as a flower.
Larger and specialty nurseries often carry aroids, and the Heronswood Nursery catalog (360-297-4172) sells 28 different ones.
Now In Bloom
Parrot tulips are so flamboyant it's hard to believe you can really grow them outdoors. Instantly recognizable for their shaggy fringing, open cup and sometimes vivid striping, parrot tulips are excellent cut flowers. They need sharp drainage and plenty of sun and aren't dependably perennial, but they're worth planting each year for the drama they bring to the spring garden. Tulipa 'Flaming Parrot' is hot yellow striped in dark red, set off by purple-black anthers; T. 'White Parrot' has subtle green striping.
Valerie Easton is manager at the Miller Horticultural Library. Her new book, "Plant Life: Growing a Garden in the Pacific Northwest" (Sasquatch Books, 2002) is an updated selection of her magazine columns. Her e-mail address is vjeaston@aol.com.
