The Dream Takes Root (1891-1900)

On a crisp autumn afternoon in 1888, two young botanists stood in Bronx Park, gazing across a landscape that most New Yorkers considered wilderness at the edge of civilization. Dr. Nathaniel Lord Britton and his wife, Elizabeth Gertrude Britton, had just returned from their honeymoon in England, where they had visited the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. What they had seen there—the magnificent glasshouses, the vast herbarium, the systematic collections representing the world’s flora—had ignited an obsession: New York City, the greatest metropolis in the New World, deserved a botanical garden to rival anything in Europe.

But the Brittons weren’t merely dreamers; they were formidable scientists and, as it turned out, equally formidable fundraisers and political operators. Nathaniel, then a young professor at Columbia College, was already establishing himself as one of America’s leading botanists. Elizabeth, largely self-taught due to the barriers women faced in formal scientific education, had become an expert on mosses and liverworts—the bryophytes—and would eventually be recognized as one of the world’s foremost bryologists.

The site they envisioned for their garden was no random choice. Bronx Park encompassed 250 acres of varied terrain: rocky outcrops, wetlands, meadows, and—most precious of all—a remnant of the primeval forest that had once covered all of New York. The Hemlock Forest, an old-growth stand that had somehow survived the axes and saws that leveled most of the region, contained trees that were already ancient when Dutch settlers first arrived at Manhattan. Here were hemlocks (Tsuga canadensis) over 200 years old, their trunks three feet across, standing alongside tulip trees (Liriodendron tulipifera), black cherry (Prunus serotina), and oaks that had witnessed centuries of history.

The Brittons’ vision required convincing three groups: New York’s wealthy elite (to provide funding), the scientific community (to provide credibility), and the city’s political establishment (to provide land and ongoing support). They proved masterful at all three.

Building Support Among the Gilded Age Elite

The 1890s were the height of America’s Gilded Age—an era of staggering wealth concentration and equally staggering philanthropy. Industrial titans like Andrew Carnegie, J.P. Morgan, and Cornelius Vanderbilt II commanded fortunes that dwarfed those of European royalty. The Brittons understood that these men sought not just wealth but legacy, and what better legacy than a great public institution?

The couple began hosting small gatherings where they painted their vision: a botanical garden that would be simultaneously a scientific research institution, a public park, a horticultural showcase, and an educational center. It would be uniquely American, studying and displaying the plants of the Western Hemisphere while also gathering specimens from around the globe.

J.P. Morgan, the era’s most powerful financier, became an early supporter, donating $25,000 (equivalent to about $800,000 today). Cornelius Vanderbilt II, whose inherited railroad fortune made him one of the world’s richest men, contributed a matching sum. Andrew Carnegie, the steel magnate who would eventually give away most of his fortune to public causes, pledged support. In total, the Brittons raised $250,000 from private donors—about $8 million in today’s money—a stunning achievement for an institution that didn’t yet exist.

Political Maneuvering and Official Charter

In 1891, the New York State Legislature passed “An Act to Incorporate the New York Botanical Garden,” officially establishing the institution. The act granted the Garden a unique status: it would be a private corporation operating on city-owned land, governed by an independent board of managers but receiving public support. This hybrid model—part public, part private—would allow the Garden to maintain scientific independence while benefiting from government resources.

The city agreed to provide land in Bronx Park and contributed $500,000 for initial construction (about $16 million today). In exchange, the Garden would be open to the public, free of charge (a policy that continued for decades), and would serve educational purposes for all New Yorkers.

The Board of Managers read like a directory of American power: J.P. Morgan served as chairman, bringing his organizational genius and intimidating presence. Cornelius Vanderbilt II provided ongoing financial support. Andrew Carnegie offered both money and advice. Also joining were leading scientists, industrialists, and civic leaders who understood that great cities required great cultural institutions.

Nathaniel Britton was appointed the Garden’s first Director-in-Chief, while Elizabeth, despite her scientific credentials, could not receive an official title due to prevailing gender discrimination. She was named an “Honorary Curator”—an absurd designation given that she would spend the next four decades building the Garden’s moss collection into the world’s finest and training a generation of bryologists.

Building from Scratch

Construction began in 1896 under the supervision of landscape architects Calvert Vaux and Samuel Parsons Jr. Vaux, who had co-designed Central Park with Frederick Law Olmsted, brought his philosophy of creating naturalistic landscapes that appeared spontaneous but were carefully engineered.

The challenge was substantial: they needed to preserve the old-growth forest while developing the surrounding land for gardens, roads, and buildings. Workers cut paths through dense vegetation, moved tons of rock to create plantable soil, and installed underground drainage systems. The Bronx River, which flowed through the property, required careful management—it would serve as both a scenic feature and a water source for irrigation.

The first major structure was the Museum Building, designed by architect Robert W. Gibson in Italian Renaissance style. Completed in 1902, this grand limestone edifice would house the herbarium, library, laboratories, and lecture halls. Its construction required extraordinary effort: stone blocks weighing several tons each were hauled by horse-drawn wagons over rough roads from the nearest railroad depot.

But the jewel of the early Garden would be the Conservatory—America’s answer to Kew’s Palm House.

The Enid A. Haupt Conservatory: A Crystal Palace for America

Designed by Lord & Burnham, the leading American greenhouse manufacturers, the Conservatory was modeled on the Crystal Palace and Kew’s Palm House, but adapted for American conditions and tastes. Its iron framework, manufactured in Lord & Burnham’s Irvington, New York factory, was assembled on-site between 1899 and 1902.

The completed structure was breathtaking: 17,000 panes of glass covering nearly an acre, with the central dome rising 90 feet above the floor. It contained eleven distinct galleries, each climate-controlled to recreate different environments: tropical rainforest, desert, temperate zones, and specialized houses for palms, ferns, and economic plants.

When the Conservatory opened to the public in 1902, New Yorkers queued for hours to enter. Many had never seen tropical plants outside of illustrations. They walked beneath towering palms transplanted from Florida and the Caribbean, gazed at banana plants (Musa species) with leaves six feet long, and marveled at orchids that seemed too elaborate to be real.

The economic plant house showcased the botanical foundations of modern life: coffee (Coffea arabica) bushes with their white flowers and red berries; cacao (Theobroma cacao) trees with pods growing directly from the trunk, containing the seeds that become chocolate; sugarcane (Saccharum officinarum) with its tall, jointed stems; rubber trees (Hevea brasiliensis) that could be tapped to demonstrate latex collection; cotton (Gossypium species) with its fluffy white bolls; and banana plants providing fruit still exotic to most Americans.

The palm court featured specimens that would become iconic:

Sabal palmetto, the cabbage palm from the American Southeast, represented native species. Roystonea regia, Cuban royal palms, demonstrated tropical grandeur with their smooth, cement-grey trunks rising 40 feet within the glass dome. Phoenix dactylifera, the date palm from North Africa and the Middle East, connected visitors to ancient civilizations. Caryota mitis, the clustering fishtail palm from Southeast Asia, displayed unusual bipinnate leaves—twice divided like fish tails.

The desert house presented a landscape most New Yorkers found alien and fascinating: massive Cereus cacti reaching toward the glass ceiling, their accordion-pleated stems storing water for months without rain. Opuntia species—prickly pears—displayed both wicked spines and surprisingly delicate flowers in shades of yellow, orange, and magenta. Agave species formed geometric rosettes of thick, spine-tipped leaves—these “century plants” (which actually bloom after 10-30 years, not 100) would eventually send up flower stalks 20 feet tall before dying. Euphorbia species from Africa mimicked cacti through convergent evolution, though their toxic white sap revealed their membership in a completely different family.

The Age of Exploration: American Botanists Discover the Americas (1900-1930)

While European institutions had centuries of exploration behind them, American botany was still young. Much of North America’s flora remained poorly documented, and Central and South America were, from a scientific perspective, barely known. The New York Botanical Garden would help change that, funding expeditions that would document thousands of species and revolutionize understanding of Western Hemisphere plants.

Britton’s Vision: A Flora of North America

Nathaniel Britton’s grand ambition was to catalog every plant species in North America. This required both fieldwork—exploring every corner of the continent—and herbarium work—examining specimens, comparing them carefully, and writing detailed descriptions.

Britton and his colleagues discovered that North American botany was in disarray. The same plant might have multiple names given by different botanists. Conversely, what appeared to be one species was sometimes actually several similar-looking plants. Regional floras existed for some areas but were incomplete and contradictory.

Britton began publishing North American Flora, an ambitious attempt to describe every plant in North America north of Mexico. This multi-volume work, which would take decades to complete, aimed to bring order to botanical chaos. Each species received a detailed technical description, information about its distribution, notes on habitat preferences, and citations of specimens examined.

The project required exploring under-collected regions. Britton led expeditions to the American West, where the Rocky Mountains and Great Basin held plants unknown in the East. He collected in the Caribbean, recognizing that the West Indies, while technically North American, harbored unique tropical species.

The Caribbean Expeditions

The Caribbean became a focus for NYBG’s early exploration. These islands, isolated from continental landmasses, had evolved distinctive floras with high levels of endemism—species found nowhere else on Earth.

In Cuba, Britton and his team discovered forests unlike anything in North America. The royal palm (Roystonea regia) dominated landscapes, growing in pure stands that resembled classical columns supporting a green canopy. The cork palm (Microcycas calocoma), a cycad found only in a small area of western Cuba, represented a living fossil—a lineage that had been widespread when dinosaurs lived but now clung to existence in isolated pockets.

They found bizarre adaptations to island life: Hohenbergia bromeliads growing as epiphytes on tree branches, their tank-like leaf bases holding water that became tiny aquatic ecosystems. Tree ferns (Cyathea species) creating forests reminiscent of the Carboniferous period 300 million years ago. Orchids in bewildering diversity—some microscopic with flowers smaller than a pinhead, others with blooms six inches across.

In Jamaica, expeditions into the Blue Mountains found plants adapted to extreme conditions. At high elevations, cloud forests remained perpetually shrouded in mist. Here grew Podocarpus urbanii, a conifer found nowhere else, its evolutionary lineage tracing back to when Jamaica was part of the supercontinent Gondwana. Ferns grew to tree size, their trunks covered in epiphytes—other ferns, orchids, mosses, and lichens layering upon each other in vertical gardens.

The islands yielded economically important discoveries too. Guaiacum officinale and G. sanctum, the lignum vitae trees, produced wood so dense it sank in water and so resinous it was naturally self-lubricating—before petroleum-based lubricants, lignum vitae bearings were used in ship propellers and industrial machinery. The trees also produced resin used medicinally since pre-Columbian times.

Pimenta dioica, allspice, grew wild in Jamaica and other islands. Its dried berries combined flavors suggesting cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves—hence “allspice.” Caribbean peoples had used it for centuries, and it became a valuable export crop.

Marshall Avery Howe: Master of Seaweeds and Hepatics

One of NYBG’s most colorful characters was Marshall Avery Howe, curator of cryptogams (plants that reproduce by spores rather than seeds—mosses, liverworts, ferns, and algae). Howe made multiple expeditions to the Caribbean and South America, traveling by whatever means available: coastal steamers, small boats, horseback, and on foot through jungles.

His specialty was hepatics (liverworts)—tiny, often overlooked plants that grow in moist, shaded habitats. Most people literally step over them without noticing, but Howe recognized their importance. Liverworts represent one of the earliest branches of plant evolution—they were among the first plants to colonize land over 450 million years ago. Studying them provided insights into how plants evolved from aquatic algae into terrestrial organisms.

In Puerto Rico’s El Yunque rainforest, Howe found liverworts coating every surface—tree trunks, fallen logs, rocks, even leaves of larger plants. Some formed emerald-green mats, others were translucent ribbons, still others grew as tiny leafy structures requiring magnification to appreciate. Each species was adapted to incredibly specific microhabitats: some grew only where water constantly dripped, others preferred the drier upper branches of trees, some specialized in growing on decomposing wood of particular tree species.

Howe also studied marine algae—seaweeds—undertaking expeditions to document Caribbean marine flora. He snorkeled in coral reefs (long before scuba equipment existed), collected specimens from tidal pools, and dredged offshore zones to sample deepwater species. His collections revealed extraordinary diversity: red algae with delicate branching structures like underwater ferns, green algae forming fuzzy carpets in shallow water, and brown algae including massive kelps that formed submarine forests.

His 1920 paper describing Halimeda species—segmented green algae that deposited calcium carbonate—helped explain how Caribbean reefs formed. These algae, along with corals, were literally building islands through their calcium-based skeletons.

Henry Hurd Rusby: Pharmaceutical Botany and South American Adventures

Dr. Henry Hurd Rusby embodied the adventure-scientist archetype. Trained as both a physician and botanist, Rusby led multiple expeditions to South America, particularly the Amazon basin and Andean regions, collecting plants with medicinal potential.

His 1921 expedition to Colombia’s Magdalena Valley reads like an adventure novel. Traveling by riverboat up the Magdalena River, then by mule into the mountains, Rusby’s party battled heat, disease, difficult terrain, and occasional bandits. But the botanical rewards were spectacular.

In cloud forests between 6,000 and 10,000 feet elevation, Rusby found plants unknown to science. Brunfelsia species—called “yesterday-today-tomorrow” because their flowers changed color as they aged, opening purple, fading to lavender, then turning white—contained compounds that indigenous peoples used for shamanistic rituals. Western medicine would later investigate these compounds for potential pharmaceutical applications.

Cinchona trees, source of quinine for treating malaria, grew wild on Andean slopes. Rusby documented different species and varieties, collecting seeds for potential cultivation. Quinine had been crucial for European colonial expansion into tropical regions, and reliable sources remained important—synthetic antimalarials wouldn’t be developed until decades later.

He found Erythroxylum coca, the coca plant that indigenous Andean peoples chewed for altitude sickness and fatigue. Its isolation of cocaine would lead to both medical breakthroughs (it was the first effective local anesthetic) and eventually serious abuse problems. Rusby’s collections included voucher specimens documenting the plant’s natural range and variation.

Perhaps most valuable were his ethnobotanical observations. Rusby worked with indigenous guides and healers, learning which plants were used for different ailments. He documented:

• Uncaria tomentosa, cat’s claw vine, used for inflammation and infections—modern research has confirmed anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial properties
• Croton lechleri, dragon’s blood tree, whose red latex was applied to wounds—studies later showed it contains alkaloids that promote healing and fight bacteria
• Various Psychotria and Palicourea species used in traditional medicine—many contain novel alkaloids still being investigated

Rusby’s specimens, carefully preserved and documented, came back to NYBG where they entered the herbarium. Each specimen included detailed notes: exact location, elevation, habitat type, indigenous names, traditional uses, and physical descriptions of the living plant. This information would prove invaluable decades later when pharmaceutical companies began systematically screening plants for medicinal compounds.

George Valentine Nash: Grasses of the American West

George Valentine Nash specialized in grasses—plants most people consider boring, but which are fundamental to terrestrial ecosystems and human civilization. The grass family (Poaceae) includes all the major grain crops: wheat, rice, corn, barley, oats, rye, and millet. Understanding grass diversity meant understanding the foundations of agriculture.

Nash led expeditions across the American West, documenting native grasses before agricultural conversion eliminated them. The Great Plains, he found, were not uniform grassland but a complex mosaic of species adapted to different moisture levels, soil types, and disturbance regimes.

He identified Bouteloua gracilis, blue grama grass, as one of the dominant species of the shortgrass prairie. This species, with its curious “eyebrow” seed heads, was incredibly drought-resistant, its deep roots accessing moisture unavailable to most plants. During the Dust Bowl of the 1930s, Nash’s research would prove crucial—the native grasses he’d documented were far better at stabilizing soil than the annual crops that replaced them.

In mountain meadows, he found spectacular diversity: Festuca fescues forming dense tussocks, Deschampsia hairgrasses creating shimmering waves when flowering, Elymus wildryes with long, bristly seed heads. Each species occupied a specific ecological niche, and understanding these patterns helped explain how ecosystems functioned.

Nash also documented economic grasses: wild rice (Zizania species) that Native Americans had harvested for centuries, bamboos (Arundinaria species) native to the Southeast that were being harvested to near-extinction, and various forage grasses crucial for ranching.

His grass collection at NYBG eventually numbered over 15,000 specimens, representing hundreds of species and forming one of the world’s most comprehensive grass herbaria.

Elizabeth Britton: The Moss Queen

While her husband led the Garden administratively, Elizabeth Britton pursued her own groundbreaking research on bryophytes—mosses and liverworts. Despite lacking a formal position commensurate with her abilities (due to gender discrimination), she became one of the world’s foremost bryologists.

Mosses are easily overlooked—most people dismiss them as “that green stuff” on rocks and tree trunks. But Elizabeth saw extraordinary diversity. In the Hemlock Forest within the Garden itself, she documented over 150 moss species, each adapted to specific microhabitats.

Polytrichum species, the haircap mosses, formed miniature forests on the forest floor, their star-shaped leaves arranged around upright stems. Hypnum species created flowing carpets on fallen logs. Leucobryum glaucum, the white cushion moss, formed pale green mounds that felt spongy underfoot—these mounds could absorb 20 times their dry weight in water, acting like natural sponges.

On rock faces, Grimmia species clung to seemingly barren stone, their dark cushions surviving extreme temperature fluctuations and desiccation. Epiphytic mosses like Ulota species grew on tree bark, their capsules (spore-producing structures) emerging on delicate stalks.

Elizabeth recognized that mosses were biological indicators—their presence or absence revealed environmental conditions. Certain species grew only in pristine, unpolluted streams. Others tolerated urban pollution. By mapping moss distributions, she created a baseline against which future environmental changes could be measured.

She also understood mosses’ ecological importance. They were among the first organisms to colonize bare rock, their bodies gradually breaking down stone and accumulating organic matter, creating the first thin soils in which other plants could grow. In wetlands, sphagnum mosses created acidic, oxygen-poor conditions that preserved organic matter, forming peat deposits that locked away carbon for millennia.

Elizabeth’s moss herbarium at NYBG grew to include specimens from around the world, traded with other bryologists or collected on expeditions. By her death in 1934, it was the Western Hemisphere’s most comprehensive moss collection.

The Results: A Treasury of Knowledge

By 1930, NYBG’s herbarium contained over 1.5 million plant specimens. The collections documented:

• Over 3,000 species from the Caribbean islands
• Thousands of South American plants, including many new to science
• Comprehensive collections of North American flora, particularly from previously under-studied regions
• Type specimens—the original specimens from which new species were described—for hundreds of plants

The library had grown to include over 50,000 volumes—botanical books, scientific journals, expedition reports, and rare historical texts. Researchers from around the world came to consult these resources.

The living collections showcased plants from six continents, with particular strengths in American species and tropical plants.

The Peggy Rockefeller Rose Garden and Horticultural Renaissance (1930-1960)

The 1930s through 1960s saw NYBG balance scientific research with horticultural display, recognizing that public gardens needed to inspire visitors while advancing botanical knowledge.

The Rose Garden: Defining American Rose Culture

In 1916, the Garden opened its Rose Garden, which would eventually be named for philanthropist Peggy Rockefeller (after a 1988 renovation). This three-acre display showcased over 3,000 rosebushes representing 650 cultivars—varieties bred by humans for specific characteristics.

Roses (Rosa species and hybrids) have a complex genetic history. Wild species from Europe, Asia, and North America were hybridized over centuries, creating the modern garden roses. The NYBG collection told this story:

Old Garden Roses included:

• Rosa gallica varieties, the French roses known since Roman times, with their intense fragrance and deep crimson flowers
• Rosa damascena, damask roses from the Middle East, still grown commercially in Bulgaria and Turkey for rose oil (it takes 10,000 pounds of petals to produce one pound of rose oil)
• Rosa centifolia, cabbage roses, with flowers so packed with petals they barely opened
• China roses (Rosa chinensis varieties) that revolutionized European rose breeding in the 1800s by introducing repeat-blooming—the ability to flower multiple times per season rather than once in spring

Modern Hybrid Teas, developed from the 1860s onward, combined:

• The cold-hardiness and fragrance of European roses
• The repeat-blooming and color range of Chinese roses
• The elegant, pointed bud shape of Persian roses

The Garden’s collection included famous varieties like ‘Peace’, developed in France during World War II and introduced to America on the day Berlin fell in 1945. Its enormous pale yellow blooms edged with pink became symbolic of post-war hope. ‘Mister Lincoln’ produced deep, velvety red flowers with legendary fragrance. ‘Double Delight’ combined creamy white petals edged in strawberry red with intense fragrance that could perfume an entire garden.

Floribundas, bred for mass flower production, displayed clusters of blooms:

• ‘Iceberg’ covered itself in pure white flowers from June until frost
• ‘Europeana’ produced clusters of deep red blooms
• ‘Sunsprite’ glowed with golden yellow flowers

The Garden also showcased climbing roses trained over arbors and trellises, creating tunnels of color and fragrance. Rosa banksiae, Lady Banks’ rose from China, produced cascades of tiny yellow or white flowers in spring. Modern climbing hybrid teas brought the large flowers and repeat-blooming of their bush relatives to vertical gardening.

Beyond beauty, the Rose Garden served scientific purposes. Curators tested new varieties for hardiness in New York’s climate, disease resistance, and performance in different conditions. Their recommendations influenced rose breeding and helped gardeners choose varieties likely to succeed.

The Rock Garden: Alpine Jewels

Created in the 1930s on a rocky outcrop, the Rock Garden showcased plants from mountainous regions worldwide—tiny treasures adapted to harsh conditions.

From the Rocky Mountains came Aquilegia columbines with their spurred flowers in yellow, red, and blue. Penstemon species, called “beard-tongues” for the fuzzy stamen in their tubular flowers, displayed brilliant colors—scarlet, purple, and blue. Lewisia species from granite outcrops produced shocking pink flowers from rosettes of succulent leaves.

European Alps contributed Gentiana species with flowers of intense blue, Saxifraga saxifrages forming cushions covered in white, pink, or yellow blooms, and Dianthus alpine pinks with their spicy fragrance.

From the Himalayas: Primula species in every color imaginable, Meconopsis betonicifolia with its sky-blue poppy flowers, and dwarf Rhododendron species that hugged the ground rather than growing as shrubs.

These plants required special care. Most alpine plants needed perfect drainage—waterlogged roots meant death. The Rock Garden’s construction included extensive drainage systems, with rocks positioned to create crevices and slopes that shed water rapidly. Soil mixes were lean, primarily mineral rather than organic matter, mimicking the rocky substrates where these plants evolved.

Some alpine plants were exquisitely difficult. Androsace species, tiny cushion plants from high mountains, would rot in humid lowland summers. Curators rigged shade cloth to reduce heat stress and used fans to improve air circulation. Despite these efforts, some species proved impossible to maintain in New York—they simply couldn’t adapt to conditions so different from their native elevations.

The Azalea Way: A Spring Symphony

In the 1940s, extensive azalea plantings transformed part of the Garden into a spring wonderland. Azaleas are actually Rhododendron species and hybrids characterized by deciduous leaves (in most species) and flowers without spots.

The collection emphasized varieties hardy in New York:

Mollis Hybrids, developed from Japanese and Chinese species, bloomed before leaves emerged, covering bare branches with flowers in shades of yellow, orange, salmon, and red. The effect was almost surreal—as if flames had consumed the branches but left them glowing rather than charred.

Ghent Azaleas, Belgian hybrids developed in the 1800s, offered intense fragrance. Some varieties smelled like honeysuckle, others like cloves or vanilla. Walking the Azalea Way in May was olfactory as much as visual.

Kaempferi Hybrids, bred for cold-hardiness, survived New York winters that killed tender Southern azaleas. Their flowers ranged from white through pink to deep crimson and purple.

Plantings were designed for succession: early varieties bloomed in late April, followed by mid-season ones in May, then late varieties into early June, providing six weeks of color.

Narcissus and Daffodil Collections

Spring also brought spectacular displays of Narcissus—daffodils and their relatives. The Garden maintained trial plantings of new cultivars, evaluating them for performance in Northeast conditions.

The diversity was remarkable. Beyond standard yellow trumpet daffodils, there were:

• Large-cupped varieties with petals in white, yellow, or pink surrounding cups in contrasting colors
• Double varieties with flowers resembling peonies
• Jonquils with multiple small, intensely fragrant flowers per stem
• Tazettas, descended from Mediterranean species, bearing clusters of white and yellow flowers with penetrating fragrance
• Cyclamineus hybrids with reflexed petals swept back like shooting stars

Daffodils naturalized in the Garden’s meadows and woodlands, spreading over decades until thousands bloomed each spring—a golden tide beneath still-bare trees.

The Herb Garden: Practical and Historical

A specialized garden showcased herbs—plants used for cooking, medicine, dyeing, and crafts. This collection served both educational and historical purposes, showing visitors how humans had used plants throughout history.

Culinary herbs included familiar species: basil (Ocimum basilicum), with varieties ranging from tiny-leaved Greek basil to lettuce-leaf basil with leaves six inches across; rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), its needle-like leaves releasing piney fragrance; sage (Salvia officinalis) in green, purple, and variegated forms; thyme (Thymus species) forming aromatic mats.

Medicinal herbs represented thousands of years of ethnobotanical knowledge: feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium), used since ancient times for headaches; valerian (Valeriana officinalis), whose roots provided sedative compounds; echinacea (Echinacea species), Native American medicine now validated for immune support; foxglove (Digitalis purpurea), source of heart medications but deadly if misused.

Dye plants showed how people colored fabric before synthetic dyes: woad (Isatis tinctoria) and indigo (Indigofera tinctoria) for blues, madder (Rubia tinctorum) for reds, weld (Reseda luteola) for yellows.

Labels explained not just botanical information but cultural history—how plants moved along trade routes, how medical knowledge evolved, how industrial processes developed from traditional practices.

Scientific Leadership and Modern Research (1960-1990)

The latter 20th century saw NYBG solidify its position as a leading research institution, employing cutting-edge techniques while maintaining traditional botanical disciplines.

The Herbarium Expansion

By 1960, the herbarium was bursting its original quarters. A major expansion in 1973 added climate-controlled storage, modern labs, and workspace for visiting researchers. The collection passed 5 million specimens, making it one of the world’s largest.

Herbarium specimens might seem like pressed flowers collecting dust, but they’re fundamental to botanical science. Each specimen is a permanent record—a physical object that can be examined and re-examined as knowledge advances. A specimen collected in 1900 can still yield new information in 2025 using techniques not imagined when it was pressed.

The value became apparent as DNA analysis developed. Scientists could extract DNA from specimens decades old, revealing evolutionary relationships impossible to determine from physical characteristics alone. A specimen collected during a 1920s expedition, when the collector had no idea about DNA, suddenly became crucial for understanding plant evolution.

The herbarium also served as a library for identifying unknown plants. When someone found an unfamiliar species, they could bring it to NYBG where specialists compared it against the million of specimens. Is it a known species growing outside its usual range? A variety not previously documented? Or something genuinely new?

Project Flora: Cataloging the Northeast

In the 1970s, NYBG launched a comprehensive effort to document all vascular plants in the northeastern United States. This “Flora of the Northeast” project involved:

• Systematic field surveys covering every county
• Compilation of herbarium specimens from NYBG and other institutions
• Analysis of habitat requirements and distribution patterns
• Creation of identification keys allowing anyone to identify plants

The results revealed surprising patterns. Some plants thought common were actually declining rapidly due to habitat loss. Others, dismissed as rare, were simply overlooked—they grew in inaccessible places or had brief flowering periods easily missed.

Non-native species were spreading far faster than documented. Ailanthus altissima, tree-of-heaven from China, had colonized urban areas throughout the region, its seeds dispersed by wind and its roots producing chemicals that inhibited other plants. Berberis thunbergii, Japanese barberry, was escaping from gardens into forests, forming dense thickets that excluded native plants.

The Flora project created baseline data against which future changes could be measured—essential for conservation in a rapidly changing world.

Tropical Research

While documenting temperate flora, NYBG also expanded tropical research, establishing field stations and partnerships in Latin America and the Caribbean.

The Puerto Rico Program: In the 1960s, researchers began long-term studies of Puerto Rican forests, examining how tropical ecosystems functioned. They discovered that tropical trees had complex relationships with fungi, insects, and animals that made simple transplantation difficult—remove a tree from its native ecosystem, and it often died even when environmental conditions seemed suitable, because crucial partners were missing.

Studies of Cecropia trees revealed how tropical trees grew so fast. These “pioneer species” colonized gaps in the forest canopy created by fallen trees. They grew rapidly—up to 8 feet per year—but lived only 20-30 years. Their hollow stems housed ant colonies; the trees produced special food bodies that fed the ants, and in return, the ants attacked any herbivores that landed on the tree and even killed vine seedlings that might overgrow their host. This “ant-plant mutualism” fascinated researchers and demonstrated the complex ecological networks in tropical forests.

Amazon Research: Expeditions to the Amazon basin continued documenting plant diversity in the world’s richest ecosystem. Researchers found:

• More tree species in a single two-acre plot than in all of temperate North America
• Palms with fruits eaten only by specific animals—remove the animal, and the palm couldn’t reproduce
• Lianas (woody vines) including Strychnos species containing powerful alkaloids, Banisteriopsis vines used in ayahuasca ceremonies, and legume vines with seeds weighing several pounds
• Epiphytes layered in distinct zones up tree trunks—different species preferring different heights based on light and moisture availability

Collections from these expeditions enriched both the herbarium and the living collections, with many species appearing in the Conservatory’s tropical displays.

Molecular Systematics Revolution

The 1980s brought a revolution: DNA sequencing. For the first time, scientists could compare genetic material directly, revealing evolutionary relationships with unprecedented accuracy.

NYBG established molecular labs and began systematically studying plant groups where traditional classification was problematic. DNA evidence often shocked botanists:

The grass family (Poaceae) turned out to be closely related to sedges (Cyperaceae) and rushes (Juncaceae)—together forming a major evolutionary lineage quite separate from other monocots. Within grasses, DNA revealed that bamboos weren’t a single coherent group but had evolved independently multiple times.

The cactus family (Cactaceae) showed surprising relationships. DNA proved that Pereskia species—leafy plants that barely look like cacti—were indeed the most primitive members of the family, representing what ancestral cacti looked like before they evolved into the succulent, spine-covered forms we recognize. The strange Rhipsalis species from African and Asian rainforests, which grow as epiphytes and look nothing like desert cacti, were proven to be true cacti that had dispersed across oceans, probably as seeds carried in bird digestive systems.

The orchid family (Orchidaceae), with over 25,000 species, presented massive classification challenges. DNA studies revealed that many traditional groupings were artificial—plants looked similar because they had similar pollinators, not because they were closely related. The entire family tree had to be redrawn based on genetic evidence.

Patricia Holmgren and the Index Herbariorum

Dr. Patricia Holmgren, who became director of NYBG’s herbarium, oversaw the creation of a global database of herbaria—the Index Herbariorum. This ambitious project cataloged every herbarium in the world: where it was located, what collections it held, who worked there, and how to access specimens.

Before Index Herbariorum, botanists often didn’t know where to find specimens they needed. A researcher studying a South American plant might spend years tracking down specimens scattered across dozens of institutions. The Index changed this, creating a network connecting the world’s botanical collections.

The project revealed fascinating patterns. Some countries had extensive herbaria documenting their native flora; others had almost no specimens from their territories—all collections had been taken to European or North American institutions during colonial periods. This “botanical imperialism” meant that scientists in Brazil, India, or Indonesia often couldn’t study their own country’s plants without traveling to London, Paris, or New York.

Holmgren advocated for repatriation and capacity-building—helping institutions in biodiverse countries develop their own research facilities. NYBG began training foreign botanists, providing equipment and expertise, and, in some cases, sending duplicate specimens to source countries.

Conservation Genetics

By the 1980s, botanists recognized that saving endangered species required understanding their genetics. Small populations faced “genetic bottlenecks”—reduced genetic diversity that made them vulnerable to disease and environmental change.

NYBG scientists used DNA analysis to study endangered species:

Torreya taxifolia, the Florida torreya, was down to fewer than 1,000 individuals in the wild, all within a small area of Florida’s Apalachicola River region. This conifer had once been common but was devastated by a fungal disease in the 1950s. DNA analysis revealed extremely low genetic diversity—the surviving trees were essentially clones, making the species vulnerable to any new threat. Conservation efforts focused on collecting seeds from the most genetically diverse individuals and establishing ex situ populations in botanical gardens.

Franklinia alatamaha, Franklin tree, had been extinct in the wild since the early 1800s—every living specimen descended from plants collected in Georgia in the 1770s by William Bartram. DNA studies confirmed what botanists suspected: virtually no genetic diversity remained. All Franklin trees worldwide were essentially cuttings from the same handful of individuals. The species survived, but its genetic poverty made its long-term prospects uncertain.

Platanthera leucophaea, the Eastern prairie fringed orchid, was declining as prairies were converted to agriculture. DNA studies revealed that populations were more genetically isolated than suspected—orchids from Illinois were genetically distinct from those in Michigan or Ohio. Conservation required protecting multiple populations to preserve the species’ full genetic diversity.

The Haupt Conservatory Restoration: Rebirth of a Crystal Palace (1978-1997)

By the 1970s, the Conservatory faced crisis. Seven decades of weather, pollution, and deferred maintenance had taken their toll. The iron framework was corroding, glass panes were cracked or missing, and the heating and climate control systems were failing. Some galleries had to be closed for safety reasons. The choices were stark: undertake a massive, expensive restoration or lose one of America’s great glasshouses.

The Decision to Restore

In 1978, NYBG’s leadership committed to full restoration. The estimated cost: $25 million (over $100 million in today’s dollars). Fundraising began, led by Enid Annenberg Haupt, whose $10 million gift anchored the campaign. The Conservatory would be renamed in her honor.

But restoration proved more complex than anticipated. When engineers examined the structure closely, they found problems more severe than visible inspection had revealed. Cast iron beams had corroded internally, their strength compromised. The foundation had settled unevenly. The original ventilation system, designed for coal-fired boilers, was inadequate for modern climate control needs.

The decision was made: complete dismantling and rebuilding. Every piece of the structure—thousands of iron elements, tens of thousands of glass panes—would be removed, cataloged, and either restored or replicated.

The Great Disassembly

Beginning in 1978, workers began the painstaking process of disassembly. Each iron piece was marked with identification numbers. Detailed measurements were recorded—the Conservatory had been built by craftsmen using hand tools, so no two pieces were identical. Photographs documented everything.

The plants presented enormous challenges. Some specimens had grown in the Conservatory since 1902—80-year-old palms that had never lived anywhere else. Moving them could be fatal. Yet they couldn’t remain in a building being dismantled around them.

Horticulturists built temporary greenhouses nearby. The largest palms required special equipment to move—cranes, custom-built supports, trucks capable of carrying 10-ton loads. Each move was planned like a surgical operation. Root balls were wrapped in burlap, trunks were supported to prevent bending that could snap the growing tip, and climate-controlled transportation ensured temperatures never dropped dangerously.

Some plants didn’t survive. Eighty years of growth had intertwined root systems with the Conservatory’s structure. Ancient cycads, their roots penetrating the foundation, died when moved despite heroic efforts. These losses were mourned—they represented irreplaceable specimens, genetic individuals that could never be replaced.

Engineering for the Future

While the original structure was measured for replication, engineers designed modern systems invisible to visitors but crucial for plant survival:

Climate control: Computer-controlled systems replaced the original radiator-based heating. Each gallery would maintain its specific temperature and humidity range automatically, with sensors adjusting conditions multiple times per day.

Irrigation: Automated watering systems replaced hand-watering, ensuring each plant received appropriate moisture. Misting systems created humidity for tropical plants without waterlogging roots.

Energy efficiency: While replicating the Victorian appearance, the restoration incorporated modern insulation, efficient glazing, and heat recovery systems. The restored Conservatory would use 30% less energy than the original while maintaining better climate control.

Structural engineering: The iron framework was strengthened with hidden steel reinforcements. The foundation was rebuilt to support the structure for another century. Seismic bracing was added—not crucial in New York but good practice.

Restoration and Reconstruction

Iron pieces were shipped to foundries for restoration. Badly corroded sections were recast using original patterns. Surviving pieces were cleaned, primed, and painted with modern coatings that would prevent future corrosion while matching the original appearance.

Glass posed challenges. The original glass, made in 1900, had a characteristic wavy appearance from imperfect manufacturing. Modern glass is perfectly flat—more efficient but visually different. The solution: specially manufactured glass with subtle texturing that mimicked the original appearance while providing better insulation and UV filtering.

The reassembly, beginning in the late 1980s, reversed the disassembly process. Iron pieces went back together like an enormous three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle. Craftsmen worked from the foundation upward, bolting sections together, ensuring alignment, and installing modern systems within the Victorian framework.

The process took longer than expected. Initial completion estimates of the early 1990s proved optimistic. Problems emerged: some replicated pieces didn’t fit perfectly, requiring adjustment. Modern building codes required modifications to egress routes and accessibility. Budget overruns required additional fundraising.

The Triumphant Reopening (1997)

Finally, in May 1997, the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory reopened after nineteen years of work. The investment totaled $58 million—more than double original estimates, but the result was spectacular.

Visitors entering the Palm Court found it simultaneously familiar and transformed. The space looked exactly as it had in 1902, with one crucial difference: the plants were healthier, more diverse, and better displayed than ever before.

The eleven galleries showcased distinct ecosystems:

The Palm Court (Palms of the World Gallery): Towering palms from six continents created a cathedral-like space. Corypha umbraculifera, the talipot palm from India, would eventually bloom with the largest inflorescence (flower cluster) in the plant kingdom—a structure 20 feet tall containing millions of flowers. The tree would die after this single flowering, having stored energy for decades for one spectacular reproductive burst.

Jubaea chilensis, the Chilean wine palm, demonstrated extreme slow growth—this species requires 60-80 years to reach reproductive maturity. NYBG’s specimen, planted in the 1950s, was still decades from flowering.

Metroxylon sagu, the sago palm from Southeast Asia, showed economic importance—its trunk contained starch that provided food for millions of people. Before rice dominated Asian diets, sago was a staple carbohydrate.

The Tropical Rainforest Gallery: A two-story space with elevated walkways allowing visitors to explore the canopy. Here grew:

Theobroma cacao, chocolate trees, with their bizarre “cauliflory”—flowers and fruits emerging directly from the trunk. In nature, these flowers are pollinated by tiny midges that breed in decomposing vegetation on the forest floor.

Piper nigrum, black pepper vines, climbing up supports. Their berries, harvested green and dried, produce black pepper. Harvested ripe and processed differently, they become white pepper. This single species provided the spice that drove European exploration and colonization of Asia.

Vanilla planifolia, vanilla orchids, climbing through the canopy. Staff hand-pollinate their flowers—vanilla’s natural pollinator, a Mexican bee species, doesn’t exist in New York—producing vanilla beans that visitors can see developing.

Giant Philodendron species with leaves four feet long, demonstrating the “scrambling” growth strategy where plants grow along the ground until finding a tree, then climbing toward the canopy.

Heliconia species with their shocking orange, red, and yellow bracts that looked like lobster claws—these weren’t petals but modified leaves protecting the actual flowers. Hummingbirds pollinate them in nature, inserting their bills into the structure.

The Aquatic Plants Gallery: A pool surrounded by palms, cycads, and other water-associated plants showcased freshwater ecosystems.

Victoria amazonica, the giant Amazon water lily, stole the show. Its leaves, up to eight feet across, floated on the surface supported by a network of ribs on the underside. The ribs were so strong that, properly distributed, a leaf could support 100 pounds—Victorian gardeners famously photographed children standing on the leaves.

The flowers were equally spectacular: white the first evening they opened, being pollinated by beetles that crawled inside and became temporarily trapped. The second evening, the flowers turned pink and released the beetles, now covered in pollen, to pollinate other flowers. This two-day cycle ensured cross-pollination.

Nymphaea water lilies displayed diversity: tropical varieties in electric blue, purple, and pink alongside temperate species in white, yellow, and red. Some were night-blooming, their flowers opening at dusk and closing at dawn.

Papyrus (Cyperus papyrus) and water bamboo (Phyllostachys species growing in shallow water) showed wetland adaptations.

The Desert Gallery: An arid landscape showcased plants adapted to extreme drought.

Carnegiea gigantea, the saguaro cactus, reached toward the ceiling. These emblematic plants of the Sonoran Desert can live 150+ years and weigh several tons, their accordion-pleated stems expanding to store water during rare rains.

Echinocactus grusonii, golden barrel cactus, formed perfect geometric spheres covered in fierce golden spines. Popular in cultivation, this species was ironically endangered in its native Mexico, victim of over-collection and habitat destruction.

Agave species demonstrated the century plant strategy: growing for years, then producing a massive flower stalk before dying. Agave americana would send up a stalk 20+ feet tall, covered in hundreds of flowers, exhausting the plant’s stored resources.

Lithops species, the “living stones” from southern Africa, were masters of camouflage. These tiny succulents looked exactly like pebbles, protecting them from herbivores. They grew half-buried in soil with only their top surfaces visible—surfaces that mimicked local rocks so precisely that even botanists sometimes struggled to find them.

Euphorbia species from Africa demonstrated convergent evolution—they looked like cacti (pleated stems, spines, water storage) but were unrelated, evolving similar forms independently in response to similar environmental pressures.

The Seasonal Exhibition Galleries: Temperature-controlled spaces hosted rotating displays. Spring brought massive Easter lily displays, chrysanthemums dominated autumn, and the winter Holiday Train Show transformed the space into a miniature landscape.

The Fern Gallery: Primitive plants that dominated Earth before flowering plants evolved filled a shaded, humid space.

Tree ferns (Cyathea and Dicksonia species) created a prehistoric atmosphere, their trunks crowned with fronds eight feet long. These weren’t true trees—their “trunks” were actually dense masses of roots and dead leaf bases supporting the growing tip.

Platycerium staghorn ferns grew as epiphytes, their specialized fronds forming basket-like structures that collected falling leaves and debris, composting them into nutrients.

Filmy ferns (Hymenophyllaceae), so delicate their leaves were just one or two cells thick, required constant humidity. In nature, they grew in cloud forests where mist perpetually saturated the air.

The Economic Botany Displays: Rotating exhibits showcased plants fundamental to human civilization—coffee, tea, rubber, cotton, spices, medicinal plants, and more. These reminded visitors that nearly everything in modern life derived ultimately from plants.

Educational Programming

The restored Conservatory became a teaching tool. School groups could book guided tours exploring topics from photosynthesis to plant adaptations to conservation. Touch-screen displays explained complex concepts. QR codes linked to detailed information accessible on phones.

The Holiday Train Show, begun before the restoration, reached new heights afterward. Miniature trains wound through elaborate landscapes where buildings—New York landmarks like the Statue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge, and Grand Central Terminal—were constructed entirely from plant materials: bark, twigs, seed pods, and leaves. Hundreds of thousands of visitors came annually, many encountering NYBG for the first time.

Modern Conservation: Facing the Extinction Crisis (1990-Present)

The late 20th and early 21st centuries have seen NYBG increasingly focus on conservation as biodiversity faces unprecedented threats.

The Center for Conservation Strategy

In the 1990s, NYBG established a dedicated conservation program coordinating research and action across multiple fronts.

Species Recovery Programs: Working with government agencies and conservation organizations, NYBG developed recovery plans for critically endangered plants.

Platanthera leucophaea, the Eastern prairie fringed orchid, received intensive attention. Scientists studied its ecology: specific habitat requirements (wet prairies with particular soil chemistry), pollinator dependence (sphinx moths that visited flowers at night), and life cycle (seeds required specific fungi to germinate—the fungi couldn’t be cultured easily, complicating propagation efforts).

Recovery involved habitat restoration: purchasing and managing prairie remnants, removing invasive species, and using controlled burns to maintain conditions the orchid required. NYBG staff hand-pollinated flowers and harvested seeds for storage. They experimented with transplanting seedlings—difficult because the orchid-fungus relationship meant you couldn’t just plant seeds; you had to introduce the proper fungi too.

Isotria medeoloides, small whorled pogonia orchid, posed similar challenges. This species grew in deciduous forests, flowering briefly in spring before the tree canopy leafed out. It was easily overlooked—the plant was small, brownish-green, and flowers lasted only days. Populations were scattered and declining.

Conservation required protecting known sites from development, monitoring populations, and attempting captive propagation. The species proved difficult to cultivate—like many orchids, it had exacting requirements poorly understood by science.

The New York Metropolitan Flora Project

Recognizing that conservation begins locally, NYBG launched a comprehensive effort to document all plant species in the New York metropolitan area—a region encompassing parts of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut.

The project revealed alarming trends:

Species loss: Comparison with historical records showed that dozens of plant species documented in the 1800s had vanished from the region. Most were victims of habitat destruction—wetlands drained, forests cleared, prairies converted to farmland.

Platanthera ciliaris, the orange fringed orchid, once grew in wet meadows throughout the region. By 2000, it had vanished from most locations, surviving only in a few protected sites.

Isotria verticillata, large whorled pogonia, documented from multiple New York locations in the 1800s, was reduced to a handful of populations.

Agalinis acuta, sandplain gerardia, a plant of coastal sand plains, lost habitat to development and was functionally extinct in New York.

Invasive species: Non-native plants were spreading explosively. Celastrus orbiculatus, Oriental bittersweet from Asia, strangled native trees. Alliaria petiolata, garlic mustard from Europe, formed dense carpets that excluded native wildflowers. Phragmites australis, common reed, took over wetlands—ironically, a native subspecies existed, but European varieties introduced in ship ballast were far more aggressive.

Climate change signals: Long-term monitoring revealed that plant ranges were shifting. Southern species appeared in the region: Magnolia virginiana, sweetbay magnolia, was expanding northward. Spring flowering dates advanced—some species bloomed two weeks earlier than in the 1970s.

The Flora Project created baseline data crucial for conservation planning. You can’t protect what you don’t know about, and documenting what existed allowed tracking changes over time.

International Conservation Partnerships

NYBG recognized that plant conservation required global cooperation. The Garden established partnerships in biodiversity hotspots worldwide.

The Amazon Program: Working in Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru, NYBG botanists worked with local institutions to:

• Document plant diversity in under-studied regions
• Train local botanists in taxonomy and conservation
• Establish protected areas in critical forests
• Study sustainable use of forest products

One project focused on Bertholletia excelsa, the Brazil nut tree. These massive rainforest emergents (trees rising above the canopy) produced nuts that were an important income source for forest communities. But the trees had complex ecology: they required native bees (Euglossa species) for pollination, and these bees needed specific orchids (which produced scents male bees collected to attract females). Conserving Brazil nut trees meant conserving entire forest ecosystems including bees, orchids, and the trees’ predator-deterring ant colonies.

Research showed that sustainable harvest of Brazil nuts provided better economic returns than clearing forest for cattle ranching, creating economic incentive for conservation.

The Madagascar Program: Madagascar, an island that separated from Africa 165 million years ago, evolved an extraordinary flora—over 90% of plant species found nowhere else.

But Madagascar was also suffering catastrophic deforestation—over 90% of original forest had been cut or burned. Unique species were vanishing, many going extinct before scientists could even describe them.

NYBG established partnerships with the Missouri Botanical Garden and Malagasy institutions to:

• Conduct emergency botanical surveys in threatened forests
• Describe new species before they vanished
• Collect seeds for ex situ conservation
• Work with local communities on sustainable forest management

Discoveries included spectacular orchids, bizarre succulents, and medicinal plants with potential pharmaceutical value. Catharanthus roseus, the Madagascar periwinkle (now grown worldwide as an ornamental), produced compounds used to treat childhood leukemia and Hodgkin’s disease—demonstrating that conservation had practical, lifesaving importance.

The Caribbean Program: Building on a century of Caribbean research, NYBG intensified conservation focus as island ecosystems faced mounting pressures.

Puerto Rico’s dry forests, once covering much of the southwest coast, were reduced to tiny fragments. These forests, adapted to low rainfall, harbored species found nowhere else: Stahlia monosperma, the cóbana negra tree, with seeds like polished brown stones; Guaiacum officinale, lignum vitae, with its blue flowers and incredibly dense wood; Harrisia portoricensis, a night-blooming cactus with flowers eight inches across.

Conservation required protecting remaining forests, controlling invasive species (especially Leucaena leucocephala, a legume from Central America that formed impenetrable thickets), and restoring degraded areas.

In Cuba, NYBG partnered with Cuban institutions to study endemic species in isolated mountain ranges. Cuba’s serpentine soils—high in toxic heavy metals—supported unique plants adapted to these extreme conditions. Podocarpus ekmanii, a conifer found only on one mountain, represented a lineage dating back to when Cuba was connected to other landmasses.

The Genomic Revolution

The 21st century brought genomic sequencing—the ability to read organisms’ entire genetic code. This transformed plant biology and conservation.

NYBG established genomic facilities and began sequencing plant genomes:

The Amborella Genome Project: NYBG participated in sequencing Amborella trichopoda, a shrub from New Caledonia representing the most basal living flowering plant—the closest living relative to the ancestor of all flowering plants. Understanding its genome provided insights into how flowering plants evolved from earlier plants.

Crop Wild Relative Genomics: As climate change threatened agriculture, wild relatives of crop species became crucial. These wild plants, adapted to diverse conditions, contained genetic diversity that could breed climate resilience into crops.

NYBG sequenced wild potato species from South America, wild rice from Asia, and wild peppers from Central America. Some wild species could tolerate drought, others resisted diseases that devastated cultivated varieties. Their genomes revealed genes that could be bred or engineered into crops to ensure future food security.

Conservation Genetics: Genomic tools helped prioritize conservation efforts. Which populations of endangered species were most genetically diverse (and thus most valuable to preserve)? Were isolated populations genetically distinct enough to warrant separate protection?

Studies of Torreya taxifolia, the Florida torreya, revealed that the wild population had almost no genetic diversity—centuries of restricted range and a recent disease outbreak had created a severe bottleneck. Conservation now focused on managed breeding to maximize what little diversity remained.

Climate Change Research

NYBG became a leader in studying how climate change affects plants.

Phenology Studies: Long-term records at the Garden showed plants responding to warming. Spring flowering advanced by 2-3 weeks since the 1970s. Some species gained longer growing seasons; others faced mismatches with pollinators that followed different cues.

Cherry trees (Prunus species) bloomed earlier, but native bees that pollinated them emerged based on day length (which didn’t change), creating temporal mismatches.

Range Shift Studies: Researchers tracked plant distributions across the region, documenting northward shifts as southern species expanded and northern species retreated.

American holly (Ilex opaca), historically uncommon in New York, was establishing naturally in forests—winters were now mild enough for reliable survival. Meanwhile, paper birch (Betula papyrifera), a northern species, was declining in the southern parts of its range as heat stress increased.

Assisted Migration Experiments: As climate changed faster than plants could migrate naturally, scientists debated “assisted migration”—deliberately moving species to habitats that would become suitable in the future.

NYBG established experimental plantings moving southern species northward and monitoring their survival. Results were mixed—some species thrived, others struggled with novel pests or pathogens they hadn’t co-evolved with.

The Billion Seed Bank

Inspired by Kew’s Millennium Seed Bank, NYBG expanded its seed banking program. The goal: collect and preserve seeds from vulnerable species before they vanished.

The seed bank stored:

• Seeds from all threatened species in the New York region
• Wild crop relatives from around the world
• Seeds from species likely to be affected by climate change
• Backup collections for other institutions

Proper seed storage requires:

1. Cleaning: Removing chaff, debris, and non-seed material
2. Drying: Reducing moisture content to 5-7%, preventing fungal growth and slowing metabolism
3. Freezing: Storage at -20°C or colder, where seeds remain viable for decades or centuries
4. Testing: Periodic germination tests ensure viability—if germination rates drop, fresh seeds must be collected
5. Documentation: Detailed records of collection location, habitat, associated species, and collector observations

Some species posed challenges. “Recalcitrant” seeds—those that couldn’t be dried without dying—required special techniques. Oaks (Quercus species), chestnuts (Castanea species), and many tropical trees had recalcitrant seeds requiring cryopreservation or other methods.

Ex Situ Conservation Collections

Beyond seed banking, NYBG maintained living collections of rare and endangered species—”ex situ” conservation where plants grew outside their native habitats.

The Conservatory housed:

Encephalartos woodii, the loneliest plant on Earth—extinct in the wild since 1916, all specimens vegetatively propagated from a single male plant. It can never reproduce sexually and survives only as clones in botanical gardens.

Sophora toromiro from Easter Island—extinct in the wild since the 1960s, surviving only in cultivation. NYBG’s specimens descended from seeds collected in 1960, literally the last wild generation.

Multiple Cycad species critically endangered by habitat loss and over-collection—cycads, slow-growing and long-lived, were popular with collectors, and poaching from the wild was driving many species toward extinction.

These living collections served as insurance—if species vanished from the wild, botanical gardens maintained genetic diversity that could potentially support reintroduction.

The Forest: An Urban Wilderness (Throughout)

While the Conservatory, gardens, and research programs drew attention, the Thain Family Forest—the 50-acre old-growth forest preserved since the Garden’s founding—remained NYBG’s quiet heart.

A Fragment of Pre-Colonial New York

This forest wasn’t planted—it was original, a remnant of the woodland that once covered all of New York. Some trees were 200+ years old when the Garden was founded, making them 400+ years old today. They were saplings when George Washington was president, mature trees when the Civil War raged.

The dominant species—Tsuga canadensis (Eastern hemlock), Betula lenta (black birch), Fagus grandifolia (American beech), Quercus species (oaks), and Liriodendron tulipifera (tulip tree)—created a cathedral-like canopy 80-100 feet high.

Ecology in Miniature

The forest demonstrated ecological principles:

Stratification: The canopy layer received full sun; beneath it, a sub-canopy of smaller trees; below that, shrubs; then herbs on the forest floor. Each layer hosted different species adapted to different light levels.

Succession: When large trees fell (from age, storms, or disease), gaps opened in the canopy. Light flooded the forest floor, triggering germination of dormant seeds. Shade-intolerant species—birches, cherries—grew quickly in the gap. Eventually, shade-tolerant species—beeches, maples—grew underneath and eventually outcompeted the pioneers, closing the canopy again.

Mutualisms: Trees partnered with mycorrhizal fungi—fungal threads extending from roots, increasing nutrient absorption. Some fungi were generalists, connecting multiple tree species in underground networks that transferred nutrients. Others were specialists, each fungus species pairing with specific tree species.

Living Laboratory

The forest served as a research site and outdoor classroom.

Long-term Monitoring: Permanent plots established in the 1930s allowed tracking changes over decades. Researchers measured every tree, recording species, size, health, and position. Re-measuring the same trees years later revealed growth rates, mortality patterns, and species composition changes.

Results showed the forest was changing: hemlocks were declining (attacked by the hemlock woolly adelgid, an invasive insect from Asia), while maples and oaks increased. Understory plants showed shifts too—native wildflowers declined as invasive plants like garlic mustard spread.

Soil Science: Studies of forest soils revealed complexity invisible to casual observers. A single handful of soil contained billions of bacteria, millions of fungi, thousands of protists, hundreds of nematodes, and dozens of larger invertebrates. This community decomposed dead plant material, recycled nutrients, and supported the trees above.

Phenology: Long-term observations documented when species leafed out, flowered, and dropped leaves. Climate warming was causing earlier spring events—some species advanced by three weeks since the 1970s.

Wildflowers: The Spring Ephemeral Show

Each spring, before the tree canopy leafed out, the forest floor exploded with wildflowers—the “spring ephemerals” that complete their life cycle in the brief window between snowmelt and canopy closure.

Sanguinaria canadensis, bloodroot, pushed through leaf litter in March, its white flowers opening on sunny days. The name came from its rhizome’s orange-red sap—Native Americans used it as dye and medicine.

Erythronium americanum, trout lily, carpeted areas in yellow flowers. Each plant required 7-8 years to accumulate enough energy to flower—young plants produced only leaves.

Claytonia virginica, spring beauty, opened delicate pink-striped white flowers. These were among the earliest native bee food sources after winter.

Trillium species—three leaves, three petals, three sepals (hence “tri-llium”)—included white T. grandiflorum and deep red T. erectum. These plants grew extremely slowly—seedlings required 7-10 years to produce their first three-leaved adult form, and flowers took another several years.

By June, as the canopy closed, these species had set seed and entered dormancy, surviving underground until the next spring.

Challenges: Invasive Species and Diseases

The forest faced mounting threats:

Hemlock Woolly Adelgid: This aphid-like insect from Asia appeared in New York in the 1980s. It fed on hemlock sap, killing trees within years. No natural predators controlled it in North America. By 2020, most hemlocks in the forest were dead or dying, fundamentally changing forest structure.

Emerald Ash Borer: Another Asian insect, this beetle killed ash trees (Fraxinus species). It appeared in New York in 2009 and by 2020 had killed most ashes in the forest.

Asian Longhorned Beetle: This large beetle bored into hardwood trees—maples, birches, willows. Discovered in Brooklyn and Queens in the 1990s, it threatened NYBG’s forest. Aggressive eradication (cutting and burning infested trees) prevented establishment in the forest, but the threat remained.

Invasive Plants: Non-native species spread through the forest, sometimes forming monocultures that excluded natives:

Alliaria petiolata (garlic mustard) carpeted the forest floor, producing chemicals that inhibited native plant germination and disrupting mycorrhizal fungi.

Celastrus orbiculatus (Oriental bittersweet) climbed trees, strangling and eventually killing them.

Berberis thunbergii (Japanese barberry) formed dense, thorny thickets in the understory.

Control required intensive labor—hand-pulling garlic mustard before it set seed, cutting and treating bittersweet stumps with herbicide, removing barberry.

Forest Management and Restoration

NYBG pursued active forest management to maintain health:

• Removing invasive species through targeted hand-pulling, cutting, and limited herbicide use
• Planting native species to replace trees killed by insects and disease
• Installing nest boxes for cavity-nesting birds that controlled insect pests
• Limiting visitor access to sensitive areas to prevent soil compaction and plant trampling
• Monitoring wildlife populations—everything from soil invertebrates to birds and mammals

The goal wasn’t to freeze the forest in some “pristine” state—forests are dynamic, constantly changing. Instead, management aimed to maintain native biodiversity and ecological functions while allowing natural processes to operate.

Education and Community Engagement (Throughout)

From its founding, NYBG recognized that public education was central to its mission. Gardens that served only scientists were mere collections; gardens that engaged communities could transform society’s relationship with nature.

The Children’s Adventure Garden

Opened in 1998, this twelve-acre space was designed specifically for children, combining play with learning about plants and ecology.

The Everett Children’s Adventure Garden included:

A Maze of planted hedges where children navigated while learning about plant adaptations.

Boulder Maze: Kids climbed over rocks while discovering plants adapted to rocky habitats—succulents, alpines, ferns growing in crevices.

Woodland: A naturalistic forest area with streams, ponds, and wetland plants. Children could catch aquatic invertebrates, observe salamanders, and learn about forest ecosystems.

Discovery Center: Indoor space with microscopes, plant dissection stations, and hands-on experiments. Kids could examine flower structures, compare leaf shapes, extract pigments, and conduct simple experiments about photosynthesis and plant growth.

Exhibits on plant biology: Interactive displays explained pollination (with live bees visible through glass), seed dispersal (with models children could operate), and plant defenses (with examples of thorns, toxins, and mimicry).

The philosophy: children who play in gardens, get muddy, catch insects, and experience plants as living beings—not just objects—develop emotional connections to nature that last lifetimes.

School Programs

NYBG hosted hundreds of school groups annually, offering curriculum-aligned programs:

• Elementary students: Learning about plant parts, life cycles, and basic ecology through hands-on activities like planting seeds, examining flowers with magnifiers, and exploring the forest.

• Middle school students: More advanced topics including photosynthesis, plant adaptations to different environments, and biodiversity. Students conducted experiments measuring plant growth under different conditions, tested soil chemistry, and used microscopes to examine plant cells.
  
• High school students: Programs aligned with biology curricula covering genetics, evolution, ecology, and conservation. Advanced students could participate in authentic research, collecting data on forest health, documenting invasive species spread, or monitoring pollinator populations.
  

The most successful programs weren’t lectures but experiences. Students who planted seeds and watched them grow, who caught insects and observed which flowers they visited, who measured trees and calculated growth rates—these students retained knowledge and developed genuine interest in plant science.

The Bronx Green-Up Program

In 1970, NYBG launched Bronx Green-Up, recognizing that the Garden’s mission extended beyond its walls into surrounding communities. The Bronx, often portrayed in media as entirely urban and degraded, actually contained numerous community gardens, street tree plantings, and green spaces maintained by residents who cared deeply about their neighborhoods.

Bronx Green-Up provided:

Technical assistance: Horticulturists advised community gardeners on soil improvement, plant selection, pest management, and seasonal care. Many community gardeners were immigrants bringing agricultural knowledge from their home countries but needing to adapt to New York’s climate and conditions.

Educational workshops: Free classes on topics from composting to pruning to starting plants from seeds. Special programs focused on gardening with children, creating pollinator habitat, and growing food in small spaces.

Plant materials: Donated seeds, seedlings, and plants for community gardens. In spring, Green-Up distributed thousands of vegetable seedlings—tomatoes, peppers, eggplants—to community gardeners.

GreenThumb coordination: Partnership with NYC’s GreenThumb program (which managed city-owned community gardens) helped protect gardens from development and provided resources.

The program recognized that urban greening wasn’t just aesthetic—community gardens provided fresh food in neighborhoods with limited grocery access, created social gathering spaces, reduced urban heat island effects, and improved mental health. Plants mattered not just scientifically but socially and culturally.

Adult Education Programs

NYBG offered extensive adult education:

Certificate Programs: Multi-course sequences in horticulture, botanic art and illustration, and landscape design. These attracted serious students—some pursuing career changes, others deepening lifelong interests.

The Horticulture Certificate required coursework in plant identification, soil science, propagation, pest management, and practical gardening skills. Students spent time in NYBG’s gardens working alongside professional gardeners, learning techniques through hands-on practice.

The Botanic Art Certificate trained students in the centuries-old tradition of botanical illustration—creating scientifically accurate, artistically beautiful plant portraits. Students learned specialized techniques: rendering three-dimensional forms in two dimensions, capturing texture and color accurately, depicting diagnostic features botanists needed for identification.

Continuing Education Classes: Single sessions or short courses on specific topics: pruning techniques, orchid culture, native plant gardening, vegetable growing, flower arranging, garden design. These allowed casual gardeners to deepen knowledge in areas of interest.

Lecture Series: Distinguished scientists, horticulturists, and authors presented public lectures on topics from plant exploration to climate change to garden history.

The Edible Academy

Opened in 2015, this one-acre teaching garden focused on food plants and sustainable agriculture, recognizing growing public interest in food systems, organic growing, and urban farming.

The space included:

Demonstration vegetable gardens: Intensive beds showing efficient use of limited space—a crucial skill for urban gardeners. Plantings demonstrated succession planting (replacing early crops with later ones for continuous harvest), companion planting (growing compatible plants together), and season extension techniques.

Orchard: Espaliered fruit trees (trained flat against fences) showed space-efficient fruit production. Varieties were chosen for disease resistance and suitability to northeastern conditions.

Berry plantings: Blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, and currants demonstrated small fruit production.

Herb gardens: Culinary and medicinal herbs with information about traditional and modern uses.

Compost demonstration: Various composting methods from simple piles to sophisticated tumbler systems, teaching waste reduction and soil improvement.

Beehives: Observation hives with glass sides allowed visitors to watch honey bees at work, understanding their crucial pollination role.

Programs included cooking classes using garden produce, workshops on food preservation (canning, fermenting, drying), and classes on growing food in containers for apartment dwellers with no ground space.

The philosophy: understanding where food comes from—that tomatoes are fruit of Solanum lycopersicum, that bread begins with Triticum wheat, that chocolate comes from Theobroma cacao grown in tropical forests—creates appreciation for agriculture, awareness of environmental impacts, and motivation for sustainable practices.

The Digital Garden: NYBG in the 21st Century (2000-Present)

The internet revolution transformed how botanical gardens functioned, making collections and knowledge accessible globally.

Database Digitization

NYBG undertook massive digitization of its collections:

The Herbarium: Photographing 7+ million specimens and making images available online. This democratized access—a botanist in Brazil could examine NYBG specimens without traveling to New York. It also preserved information—if specimens were damaged or lost, digital records would survive.

The process required careful work: each specimen was photographed at high resolution, often multiple images capturing details. Associated data (collector, date, location, habitat notes) was transcribed into searchable databases. Handwritten labels, sometimes in archaic script or foreign languages, required expert interpretation.

The Library: Scanning rare books and historical documents. The library contained irreplaceable resources: original expedition reports, correspondence between historical botanists, first editions of taxonomic works. Digitization preserved and shared these treasures.

One remarkable resource: the library’s collection of botanical art, including original watercolors and drawings by historical artists. These images, digitized at high resolution, became available to researchers, educators, and anyone curious about historical plant illustration.

The Living Collections Database: Every plant in the Garden’s grounds—tens of thousands of individuals—was mapped using GPS, photographed, and entered into a database tracking planting date, source, cultivation requirements, and horticultural notes.

This allowed sophisticated queries: show all plants from China’s Hubei province; identify everything flowering in week 20; list species endangered in the wild; find plants with blue flowers for a particular garden redesign.

Virtual Herbarium and Research Tools

The digitized herbarium became a research tool in ways physical specimens couldn’t match:

Artificial Intelligence Image Recognition: Machine learning algorithms trained on thousands of specimens could automatically identify plants from photographs with increasing accuracy. This technology, still developing, promised to revolutionize field botany—researchers could photograph unknown plants and receive instant tentative identifications.

Distribution Mapping: Specimen data compiled into databases allowed creating distribution maps showing where species occurred. Combined with climate data, this enabled modeling how ranges might shift with climate change.

Phenological Analysis: Historical specimens included collection dates. Analyzing thousands of specimens revealed flowering time shifts over decades—some species now flowered weeks earlier than in the 1800s, tracking climate warming.

Collaborative Research Platforms: Online portals allowed researchers worldwide to access NYBG data, contribute their own observations, and participate in large-scale analyses impossible for any single institution.

Citizen Science Initiatives

NYBG embraced citizen science—research where non-professionals contributed data:

EcoQuest: Using iNaturalist, a biodiversity observation platform, NYBG organized “bioblitzes”—intensive efforts to document all species in an area within 24 hours. Participants used smartphone apps to photograph organisms; experts identified them from photos; data contributed to biodiversity databases.

Events revealed surprising diversity even in urban settings. A 2019 bioblitz in the Garden documented over 900 species in 24 hours—plants, insects, birds, fungi, lichens. Some were rarities; others were common species most people overlooked.

Project BudBurst: A national program tracking plant phenology. Participants observed specific plants (trees in their yard, wildflowers in local parks) and recorded dates of key events: first leaf emergence, first flower, first fruit, fall color, leaf drop. Data collected across the country revealed climate change impacts and regional variation.

Tree Mapping: Volunteers helped inventory street trees in Bronx neighborhoods, collecting data on species, size, health, and planting sites. This information helped city planners optimize tree planting for maximum environmental and health benefits.

These programs served multiple purposes: they generated valuable scientific data, educated participants about biodiversity and scientific methods, and created emotional connections between people and nature in their communities.

Social Media and Online Engagement

NYBG embraced social media, reaching audiences far beyond physical visitors:

Instagram showcased stunning photography: macro shots of flower structures, seasonal landscapes, behind-the-scenes glimpses of scientific work. Posts about specific plants often went viral—a photo of the corpse flower (Amorphophallus titanum) blooming, an event that happens unpredictably and lasts just 24-48 hours, generated millions of impressions.

YouTube hosted educational videos: plant care tips, virtual tours, interviews with scientists, time-lapse videos of flowers opening or seeds germinating.

Webinars and Virtual Programs: The COVID-19 pandemic accelerated development of virtual programming. When the Garden closed in March 2020, staff quickly pivoted to online education. Virtual classes, live-streamed garden tours, and webinars with scientists reached global audiences.

Ironically, the pandemic closure increased accessibility. People with mobility limitations who couldn’t visit physically could participate virtually. International audiences tuned in. Free online content reached those who couldn’t afford admission or lived too far away.

The LuEsther T. Mertz Library Goes Digital

The library, one of the world’s most important botanical libraries, made extraordinary resources available online:

Biodiversity Heritage Library: NYBG joined this international effort to digitize natural history literature. Thousands of rare books—some from the 1500s—were scanned and made freely available. A researcher in Kenya could now access a 1753 botanical treatise that previously required travel to New York, London, or Paris.

Digital Special Collections: Rare manuscripts, field notebooks from historical expeditions, correspondence between famous botanists—materials once accessible only to specialized scholars visiting in person—became available to anyone with internet access.

Virtual Reading Room: During pandemic closures, library staff provided digital reference services, scanning materials for researchers unable to visit, maintaining continuity of scholarship during unprecedented disruption.

The Seasonal Gardens: A Year-Round Living Display

NYBG’s outdoor gardens showcased plants throughout the year, with each season bringing distinct displays.

Spring Spectacle (March-May)

The Daffodil Collection: Hundreds of thousands of narcissus bulbs transformed meadows and woodland edges into rivers of yellow, white, and orange. Early varieties bloomed in March, followed by mid-season types in April, culminating with late varieties in May—nearly three months of bloom.

The collection included historical varieties dating to the 1600s alongside modern hybrids. Some had simple, elegant forms; others were ruffled, doubled, or multicolored. Labels identified varieties and explained breeding history—how centuries of hybridization had transformed simple Mediterranean wildflowers into the spectacular diversity of modern daffodils.

Tulip Displays: Formal beds contained tens of thousands of tulips in carefully designed color patterns. Unlike naturalistic daffodil plantings, tulips were arranged in geometric precision—blocks of color creating stunning visual impact.

NYBG showcased tulip diversity: early-blooming Kaufmanniana types opening in late March; mid-season Triumph and Darwin hybrids in April; late-blooming Parrot, Fringed, and Lily-flowered types in May. The collection told tulip history—from 16th-century “Tulipomania” when bulb speculation created history’s first economic bubble, to modern breeding producing new forms and colors.

The Flowering Cherry Collection: One of the Garden’s most beloved features, the cherry trees (Prunus species and cultivars) created a canopy of pink and white in April.

Japanese flowering cherries dominated: Prunus × yedoensis ‘Yoshino’, with clouds of pale pink flowers; P. serrulata cultivars with double pink blooms; P. subhirtella ‘Pendula’, weeping forms with cascading branches.

But the collection also included lesser-known species: P. sargentii, one of the earliest to bloom with single pink flowers; P. incisa, the Fuji cherry with tiny white blooms; P. ‘Okame’, a hybrid with intense carmine-pink flowers.

Peak bloom lasted just 7-10 days—a ephemeral display drawing huge crowds. NYBG issued “bloom alerts” predicting peak periods based on weather and bud development, allowing enthusiasts to plan visits for maximum impact.

Spring Woodland Wildflowers: The native plant collections and Thain Family Forest exploded with spring ephemerals—species completing their entire annual growth cycle before tree canopy closure:

Carpets of Claytonia virginica (spring beauty), Erythronium americanum (trout lily), and Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot) covered the forest floor. Trillium species emerged, their three-petaled flowers white, red, or burgundy. Dicentra cucullaria (Dutchman’s breeches) displayed curious white flowers resembling tiny pantaloons. Hepatica species opened blue, pink, or white flowers directly from last year’s leaves, with new leaves emerging after flowering.

These displays demonstrated ecological adaptation—plants evolved to exploit the brief window between snowmelt and canopy closure when light reached the forest floor. By June, they’d vanish, surviving underground until the next spring.

The Magnolia Collection: Before leaves emerged, magnolias covered themselves in spectacular flowers—some the size of dinner plates.

Magnolia × soulangeana, saucer magnolia, produced pink and white goblet-shaped flowers on bare branches—a surreal sight. M. stellata, star magnolia, displayed white flowers with narrow petals radiating like stars. M. denudata, the Yulan magnolia from China, produced pure white chalices sacred in Buddhist tradition.

Later-blooming species extended the season: M. acuminata, cucumber magnolia, with greenish-yellow flowers; M. macrophylla, bigleaf magnolia, with leaves three feet long and creamy flowers with purple centers; M. grandiflora, Southern magnolia, with glossy evergreen leaves and enormous white flowers powerfully lemon-scented.

Summer Glory (June-August)

The Rose Garden at Peak: By June, the rose garden reached its zenith. Thousands of roses bloomed simultaneously—the peak “first flush” when hybrid teas, floribundas, and climbers all flowered together.

The fragrance was overwhelming—on warm, humid mornings, you could smell the garden from hundreds of feet away. Visitors wandered through, photographing favorites, reading labels, and planning which varieties to grow at home.

David Austin English Roses, combining old rose flower form and fragrance with modern repeat-blooming, were particularly popular. ‘Graham Thomas’ glowed golden yellow; ‘Gertrude Jekyll’ produced deep pink blooms with intense damask fragrance; ‘The Generous Gardener’ scrambled over arbors with soft pink flowers.

Many roses provided second and third flushes through summer and fall, but nothing matched the June spectacle.

The Perennial Garden: Summer perennials created waves of color:

Paeonia (peonies) opened massive flowers—some simple single forms, others with dozens of ruffled petals. Tree peonies (P. suffruticosa) produced flowers eight inches across on woody stems.

Iris species and hybrids offered incredible diversity: bearded irises with ruffled falls and standards in every color including almost-black and near-white; Siberian irises with delicate butterfly-like flowers; Japanese irises with flat, broad petals.

Baptisia (false indigo) displayed blue, white, or yellow pea-like flowers. Geranium species (true geraniums, not to be confused with Pelargonium) produced pink, blue, or white flowers over mounds of foliage. Nepeta (catmint) created hazy clouds of lavender-blue.

As June progressed into July: Echinacea (coneflowers) with their pink, white, or orange daisy-like blooms; Rudbeckia (black-eyed Susans) creating golden masses; Hemerocallis (daylilies) with thousands of cultivars in every color except true blue.

The Herb Garden: Summer brought herbs to peak production. Basil (Ocimum) varieties ranged from tiny Greek basil to purple ‘Dark Opal’ to licorice-scented Thai basil. Lavender (Lavandula) species buzzed with pollinators drawn to their fragrant purple spikes. Oregano, thyme, sage, and rosemary could be touched to release aromatic oils.

Labels explained uses: Salvia officinalis (sage) for cooking and medicinal teas; Thymus vulgaris (thyme) as antiseptic and culinary herb; Melissa officinalis (lemon balm) for calming infusions; Mentha (mint) species for tea, cooking, and traditional digestive aids.

The Native Plant Garden: This area showcased North American species, demonstrating that native plants could create spectacular ornamental displays while supporting local ecosystems.

Monarda didyma (bee balm) produced scarlet flowers attractive to hummingbirds. Lobelia cardinalis (cardinal flower) added spikes of red blooms along water features. Asclepias tuberosa (butterfly weed) glowed orange and attracted monarch butterflies. Phlox paniculata (garden phlox) filled air with sweet fragrance from pink, white, or purple flower clusters.

These gardens demonstrated ecological gardening principles: native plants supported native insects, which fed birds and other wildlife. Gardens didn’t need to be sterile collections of non-native ornamentals—they could be biodiverse, ecologically functional, AND beautiful.

Autumn Brilliance (September-November)

Fall Foliage: The Garden’s diverse tree collection created one of the finest fall foliage displays in the metropolitan area. Different species colored at different times and in different hues, creating a six-week spectacle.

Early October brought: Nyssa sylvatica (black tupelo) turning brilliant scarlet; Acer rubrum (red maple) glowing orange-red; Liquidambar styraciflua (sweetgum) displaying leaves with each lobe a different color—yellow, orange, red, and purple on the same leaf.

Mid-October: Quercus rubra (red oak) coloring deep burgundy; Acer saccharum (sugar maple) turning yellow, orange, and red; Fagus grandifolia (American beech) shifting to copper-bronze.

Late October and early November: Ginkgo biloba turning brilliant yellow before dropping all leaves virtually overnight; Quercus palustris (pin oak) holding maroon leaves; Liriodendron tulipifera (tulip tree) finishing with clear yellow.

The forest became a patchwork of color—green giving way to yellows, oranges, reds, and purples. Paths through the forest offered immersive experiences, surrounded by color and the sound of leaves falling.

Chrysanthemum Display: The Conservatory hosted fall exhibitions featuring thousands of chrysanthemums—some in traditional forms, others trained into elaborate shapes.

Chrysanthemum morifolium cultivars came in astonishing variety: pompons with tight, ball-shaped flowers; spider chrysanthemums with long, tubular petals; decorative types with reflexed petals; anemone-form with central cushions; and spoon chrysanthemums with petals widened at tips.

Colors ranged from white through yellow, orange, pink, red, and burgundy to near-purple. Some were bicolored or color-shifted as they aged.

The most spectacular were “exhibition” varieties trained to produce single enormous flowers—some eight inches across. Growing such blooms required skilled manipulation: disbudding (removing all but one flower bud), precise fertilization, careful staking, and temperature control to time blooming exactly.

Late-Season Perennials: While many perennials finished by fall, some reached peak then:

Aster species (now reclassified to several genera including Symphyotrichum) created clouds of white, pink, purple, or blue daisy flowers. These were crucial late-season nectar sources for migrating monarch butterflies and other insects preparing for winter.

Sedum species, particularly S. ‘Autumn Joy’ (now Hylotelephium ‘Herbstfreude’), produced flat-topped pink flower clusters that aged to russet-bronze and remained attractive into winter.

Anemone × hybrida (Japanese anemone) bloomed pink or white through October, their flowers dancing on tall stems.

Ornamental Grasses: Fall was grass season. These often-overlooked plants became stars:

Miscanthus sinensis varieties reached 8 feet tall, their plumes catching autumn light and creating movement with every breeze. Panicum virgatum (switchgrass) turned golden or burgundy depending on variety. Calamagrostis × acutiflora ‘Karl Foerster’ stood rigidly upright with wheat-like plumes. Pennisetum alopecuroides (fountain grass) produced fuzzy bottlebrush plumes.

These grasses provided four-season interest: spring emergence, summer growth, fall color and plumes, and winter structure when their dried forms created sculptural presences in snow.

Winter Beauty (December-February)

Holiday Train Show: Running from late November through January, this exhibition transformed the Conservatory’s demonstration galleries into elaborate miniature landscapes where G-scale model trains wound through representations of New York landmarks—Statue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge, Rockefeller Center, Grand Central Terminal—all constructed entirely from plant materials.

Artists used bark for building walls, twigs for beams, acorns for domes, leaves for roofing, and seeds for decorative details. The constructions were remarkably detailed and recognizable despite being made from natural materials.

The trains—over a dozen different ones running simultaneously on multiple tracks—added motion and whimsy. Children (and adults) could spend hours watching trains emerge from tunnels, cross bridges, and circle through the landscape.

The show drew hundreds of thousands of visitors, many visiting NYBG for the first time. It demonstrated that botanical gardens could be magical, enchanting spaces—not just educational institutions—and that plants could be appreciated in multiple ways.

Evergreen Collections: With deciduous plants dormant, evergreens became focal points.

Picea (spruce) species displayed their architectural forms—P. pungens ‘Hoopsii’, a blue spruce with intense silver-blue needles; P. omorika, Serbian spruce, with a narrow spire form.

Pinus (pine) species offered diversity: P. strobus, Eastern white pine, with soft, flexible needles in bundles of five; P. rigida, pitch pine, with stiff needles and gnarled form; P. parviflora, Japanese white pine, with blue-green needles and elegant structure.

Ilex (holly) species provided color: I. opaca, American holly, with glossy leaves and red berries; I. verticillata, winterberry, deciduous but covered in brilliant red berries.

Winter Interest Shrubs: Certain shrubs became prominent in winter:

Cornus (dogwood) species displayed colorful stems—C. alba with red stems, C. sericea ‘Flaviramea’ with bright yellow stems creating vivid color against snow.

Hamamelis (witch hazel) bloomed in dead of winter—H. × intermedia varieties produced fragrant yellow, orange, or red flowers on bare branches in January and February, seemingly defying nature.

Calycanthus floridus (sweetshrub) retained aromatic bark that released spicy fragrance when scratched.

The Conservatory as Winter Refuge: With outdoor gardens dormant, the Conservatory became more important—a tropical escape from winter grey. Walking from freezing outdoor temperatures into the Palm Court’s 75°F humidity was transformative. The scent of wet earth, growing plants, and occasional flowers provided olfactory relief from winter’s sterility.

Major Exhibitions and Special Programs

Beyond permanent collections, NYBG mounted major exhibitions attracting international attention.

Chihuly at NYBG (2006)

Glass artist Dale Chihuly’s sculptures were installed throughout the Garden—in the Conservatory, among the plants in outdoor gardens, and in the forest. The juxtaposition of living plants and vibrant glass sculptures created magical effects.

In the Conservatory, a massive glass chandelier hung from the Palm Court’s dome—a swirling mass of yellow, orange, and red forms suggesting flames or exotic flowers. Smaller sculptures nestled among plants: glass cattails in the aquatic gallery, glass agaves in the desert, glass orchids hanging near living specimens.

Outdoor installations included a 16-foot-tall tower of turquoise glass spheres floating on the reflecting pool, massive colorful glass “chandeliers” suspended from trees, and whimsical glass forms emerging from plantings like alien flowers.

The exhibition drew over 800,000 visitors—many who had never considered visiting a botanical garden. It sparked debate: was this art or kitsch? Did glass sculptures enhance or distract from living plants? But it undeniably broadened NYBG’s audience and demonstrated that gardens could be spaces for contemporary art.

Frida Kahlo: Art, Garden, Life (2015)

This exhibition explored Mexican artist Frida Kahlo’s relationship with plants and gardens. Kahlo’s paintings frequently featured tropical plants—cacti, palms, and flowers from her home, the Casa Azul in Mexico City.

The exhibition recreated portions of Casa Azul’s garden at NYBG, planting species Kahlo would have known: Opuntia cacti, Agave, Furcraea, Yucca, and colorful annuals. The Conservatory hosted displays of Kahlo’s paintings alongside the plants depicted, allowing visitors to see both representation and living reality.

The exhibition connected art, biography, botany, and cultural history. It explored how Kahlo’s Mexican heritage influenced her art, how her physical suffering (from childhood polio and a devastating bus accident) informed her paintings, and how plants provided solace, inspiration, and political symbolism.

For many visitors, particularly the Hispanic community, the exhibition was deeply personal—seeing their cultural heritage celebrated at a major institution. It demonstrated that botanical gardens could engage diverse audiences by connecting plants to broader cultural narratives.

Kusama: Cosmic Nature (2021)

Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama’s installations transformed the Garden into surreal landscapes. Kusama, known for infinity rooms and polka-dot patterns, created site-specific works engaging with NYBG’s collections.

A mirrored infinity room in the Conservatory created endless reflections of tropical plants, merging real and reflected vegetation into disorienting infinite space. Outdoor sculptures—massive polka-dotted inflatable flowers, mirrored spheres reflecting gardens, painted pumpkin sculptures—appeared throughout the grounds.

Like the Chihuly exhibition, Kusama attracted huge crowds and broadened audiences. It also raised questions about botanical gardens’ roles: were they purely scientific and horticultural institutions, or could they also be venues for contemporary culture?

NYBG’s answer: both. Science and art weren’t opposed—both helped humans understand and appreciate the natural world. Art could draw people in, create emotional responses, and inspire them to learn about the plants themselves.

Looking Forward: NYBG’s 21st Century Mission

As NYBG approaches its 135th anniversary, it faces unprecedented challenges and opportunities.

Climate Change: The Defining Challenge

Climate change affects everything NYBG does:

Collections management: Plants collected from specific regions may no longer survive in New York as temperatures and precipitation patterns shift. Some species need replacement with climate-appropriate alternatives; others require special protection—shade houses, irrigation, microclimate management.

Research priorities: Understanding how plants respond to climate change—shifts in flowering time, range changes, interactions with pollinators and herbivores—becomes crucial.

Conservation focus: As species’ native habitats become unsuitable, ex situ conservation (maintaining populations in botanical gardens) may be their only hope. NYBG must decide: which species to prioritize? How to maintain genetic diversity? Whether to participate in “assisted migration”?

Education mission: Helping public understand climate change and empowering individual action—through sustainable gardening, supporting conservation, and political engagement—becomes increasingly important.

Biodiversity Crisis and Conservation

Plant extinction accelerates. Recent estimates suggest that 40% of plant species face extinction risk—double previous estimates. Tropical deforestation, agriculture expansion, urban development, invasive species, and climate change combine in devastating synergy.

NYBG’s response includes:

Intensified collection of threatened species: Both seeds (for long-term storage) and living plants (for study and potential reintroduction).

Partnerships with institutions in biodiverse regions: Recognizing that conservation requires local engagement and that botanical imperialism—wealthy Northern institutions extracting knowledge and specimens from poorer Southern countries—must end.

Technology deployment: Using drones, satellite imagery, environmental DNA, and AI to find, document, and monitor threatened species more efficiently than traditional methods.

Policy advocacy: Working with governments, NGOs, and international bodies to protect critical habitats and support conservation regulations.

Urban Resilience and Green Infrastructure

NYBG increasingly focuses on how plants support urban resilience:

Climate adaptation: Trees provide cooling, reducing urban heat island effects. Green infrastructure manages stormwater, reducing flooding. Native plantings support urban biodiversity.

Human health: Access to green space correlates with improved mental and physical health. Community gardens provide food security and social connections. Trees reduce air pollution.

Research on urban ecology: How do plants survive urban stress—pollution, compacted soil, heat, salt from winter de-icing? Which species are most resilient? How can urban landscapes support biodiversity?

Community engagement: Working with Bronx communities and beyond to expand urban greening, protect existing green spaces, and ensure all residents have access to nature.

Technological Integration

NYBG embraces technology while maintaining core mission:

AI-powered plant identification: Apps allowing anyone to identify plants from photos democratize botanical knowledge. NYBG contributes data training these systems.

Virtual and augmented reality: Creating immersive experiences for remote audiences or enhancing on-site visits with AR overlays providing information about plants.

Genomics and biotechnology: Using cutting-edge molecular techniques to understand plant evolution, improve conservation, and potentially support crop improvement.

Data science: Mining centuries of botanical data to understand long-term trends, predict future changes, and inform conservation priorities.

Equity and Inclusion

NYBG recognizes that historically, botanical institutions primarily served wealthy white audiences. Making gardens truly public requires intentional effort:

Programming for diverse communities: Events and exhibitions reflecting New York’s cultural diversity—celebrating plants’ roles in different cultures, featuring non-Western artistic traditions, offering materials in multiple languages.

Access and affordability: While NYBG must charge admission to support operations, sliding-scale pricing, free days, and subsidized memberships ensure financial barriers don’t exclude community members.

Workforce diversity: Ensuring staff, from gardeners to scientists to leadership, reflects community diversity. Historically, botanical science was predominantly white and male; actively recruiting and supporting diverse candidates is essential.

Decolonizing collections and narratives: Acknowledging that many historical collections were extracted from colonized regions without local consent, that indigenous knowledge was often appropriated without credit, and that traditional botanical narratives centered European perspectives.

The Next Century

What will NYBG look like in 2091, its 200th anniversary?

Climate change will have reshaped collections—some species will no longer survive in New York; others from further south will thrive. The forest, already altered by invasive insects and changing climate, will have transformed further.

Technology will enable research and conservation impossible today—perhaps using gene editing to help endangered species adapt to changed environments, or employing AI to manage millions of observations tracking global plant populations.

But fundamentally, NYBG’s mission will remain: understanding plant diversity, conserving threatened species, inspiring appreciation for the botanical world, and serving communities. Gardens that began in Princess Augusta’s nine acres at Kew and the Brittons’ vision for Bronx Park represent humanity’s better impulses—to preserve rather than destroy, to understand rather than exploit, to pass on to future generations a world still rich in the diversity of life.

Walking through NYBG today—whether in the Conservatory among palms collected from around the world, in the forest among 400-year-old trees, in the children’s garden where kids discover that plants are living beings worthy of wonder, or in laboratories where scientists work to understand and save threatened species—one experiences both achievement and urgency. Botanical gardens preserve the past, celebrate the present, and work desperately to ensure there will be a future.

The story continues, written not just by institutions but by everyone who gardens, advocates for conservation, studies plants, or simply pauses to appreciate a flower. In that democratic diffusion of wonder and responsibility lies hope for the green world’s survival.

http://www.peninsulaflower.com/