Short Articles - Soil and Plant Society
Short Articles - Soil and Plant Society
The 13th International Congress on Plant Molecular Biology was held last week in Cairns. The conference involved networking evenings, poster sessions, and a plethora of talks on everything from bryophyte meristems to medicinal plants in agriculture.
IPMB 2024 was my first time attending a scientific conference. Despite having only just finished undergrad, I was exposed to so much brilliant science, networking with fellow students and professors alike. Before the conference I even had the chance to take a road trip up the coast and visit some spots in the Daintree Rainforest. Although we didn’t see any crocodiles, we saw some incredible plants including mangroves (Rhizophora stylosa), touch-sensitive plants (Mimosa pudica), and native epiphytic orchids, among many others. I also visited the Cairns Botanic Gardens not once but twice; being absolutely enamored by the beautiful conservatory and its thriving plants.
One of my favourite IPMB sessions themed around ‘Plant Teaching and Outreach’ included a talk from Daniel Chamovitz, who discussed the impact of his excellent book ‘What a Plant Knows’ on standards for teaching and communicating plant science.
I would definitely recommend that anyone interested in research considers attending a conference, no matter your career stage! Whether you are or aren’t yet embedded into a research field, it can provide a wealth of insight into the kinds of research out there, exposing you to potential future supervisors and colleagues. Although I didn’t present my own research, it was so exciting to see some of my data presented by my supervisor!
Conference attendance can admittedly be expensive. My lab generously covered my registration and travel expenses, but support is also available for students from conference providers and organisations such as the Australian Society of Plant Scientists (ASPS) who offer travel grants and are a great resource for information on upcoming botanical conferences in Australia.
Perhaps when you think of seaweed, you find yourself impressed upon by a lingering sense of salty ocean air, or the brush of leafy fronds against your legs. Seaweed Collector’s Handbook brings to life a vivid underwater world in the form of artist and poet Miek Zwamborn’s muse, seaweed (or macroalgae, as we call it in the botanical world). Interspliced with her own personal reflections of exploring, collecting, and painting seaweeds, Zwamborn presents an expertly curated natural and cultural history of Seaweed.
Did you know that the first ever published photo book was created by a female botanist named Anna Atkins? A series of cyanotype prints of algae comprised her 1843 publication Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions. This is just one of the wonderful tidbits I discovered while reading Seaweed Collector’s Handbook. If that wasn’t enough, the back of the book features a handful of recipes for seaweed as food, as well as painted ‘portraits’ of 12 seaweeds described by the author.
A lovely little book that I am glad to have picked up, I hope Seaweed Collector’s Handbook will convince you that these curious organisms are hardly weeds at all.
What is it about plant science that drives our interest and curiosity? Daniel Chamovitz sought to answer this as a botany professor frustrated by the status quo of undergraduate curricula: course structures destined to produce more bored biologists than interested ones.
His fabulous book What a Plant Knows: A Field Guide to the Senses is the product of this search. Unlike what you might assume from such a title, Chamovitz’ book isn’t a pseudoscientific endeavour into plant consciousness. Instead, it breaks down fundamental concepts of plant structure and function into curious yet intelligible case studies of plant sensory perception and responses through the lens of human senses of sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, proprioception, and memory.
This book is one of a few which solidified my trajectory into plant sciences, and I happily recommend it to anyone with the slightest interest in the very cool things plants do!
If you’re anything like me, you might have felt surprisingly refreshed and uplifted last week. We were graced with a hint of warm weather, and a beautiful floral scent in the air that seems to carry the sweetness of spring. You may be thinking, “it can’t be spring yet – we’re only halfway through August!”
Of course, our concept of springtime derives from Northern Hemisphere traditions. Prior to European invasion and colonisation of Australia, Indigenous knowledge systems empirically established over tens of thousands of years held incredibly intimate understanding about the ecology of our continent.
According to traditional knowledge of the Kulin Nations, Victoria witnesses not four but seven seasons, characterised by important ecological interactions that mark seasonal changes. Guling, or orchid season, is our current season in August. It is defined by the flowering of ‘Muyan’ Silver Wattle, Acacia dealbata, and many of our native orchids such as Pterostylis greenhoods and Cyanicula caerulea blue fairy orchids. Interestingly, we’re lucky to see the stunning C. caerulea in Victoria; the remaining 11 species within the genus occur only in Western Australia.
I’m very excited about the orchid season this year. If you’re interested in observing it too, check out the fantastic “Guide to Native Orchids of Victoria” by Gary N. Backhouse, which was published just last year.
References:
Eastern Kulin Seasonal Calendar
Guide to Native Orchids of Victoria
You may have heard of Robin Wall Kimmerer’s influential book Braiding Sweetgrass - but did you know that Dr Kimmerer is a bryologist who studies the ecology of moss? Much like Braiding Sweetgrass (admittedly which I am yet to read), Gathering Moss is an exploration into our biocultural interactions with moss from the perspective of a few key focal species.
Kimmerer explores how Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK) underpins her relationship with moss as both a Native American Potawatomi woman and academic scientist through a series of vignettes into her contact with several particular species.
As a certified Bryophyte Enthusiast™ I have had this one on my to-read list for a while. Finally getting to it this year was a great opportunity to learn more about some of the smallest yet most ecologically significant plants around. Being a short book, Gathering Moss is a great introduction to the world of bryophytes and what they might tell us about interdisciplinary possibilities between TEK and academic science in light of environmental change.
If you have taken any botany classes, you may be familiar with the mascot of experimental plant science, the ‘thale cress’ Arabidopsis thaliana. You may also have heard of maize, petunia, and tobacco in the context of plant genetics. But did you know there are dozens of other plants used as ‘model’ systems in botany?
One that I have become quite familiar with lately is the liverwort Marchantia polymorpha. This species is incredibly unassuming, and I would wager that just like the many mosses underfoot, you will have often encountered this model without realising it. M. polymorpha is a bryophyte which represents an early divergence in the history of land plant evolution, and is powerful for studying the genes that enabled green algae to evolve structural complexity and colonise the land.
Although this may be your first time hearing about Marchantia, it has a rich history in early plant science, with records of the genus dating back to Greek and Roman antiquity. M. polymorpha was recognised in botanical literature from the 15th century onwards, and was first used as a model organism for studying the origin of cellular structures and plant reproduction in the 19th century.
This species has a complex ‘thallus’ body structure, presenting as a smooth green, dichotomously branching form. Liverworts like this one reproduce both sexually and asexually, with the latter occurring through the development of clonal propagules called gemmae (singular: gemma) in specialised organs called gemmae cups. Gemmae begin as single epidermal cells but develop into multicellular plantlets which are dormant until they are dispersed by rain out from the parent plant. Because these plants clone themselves, they make excellent research subjects. Although it is easy to appreciate this trait in the lab, clonal reproduction does make them into somewhat of a (cute) greenhouse weed. Next time you’re at an outdoor plant nursery, look out for Marchantia spilling out of garden pots!
References: John L. Bowman, A Brief History of Marchantia from Greece to Genomics, Plant and Cell Physiology, Volume 57, Issue 2, February 2016, Pages 210–229, https://doi.org/10.1093/pcp/pcv044
Masaki Shimamura, Marchantia polymorpha : Taxonomy, Phylogeny and Morphology of a Model System, Plant and Cell Physiology, Volume 57, Issue (2) February 2016, Pages 230–256, https://doi.org/10.1093/pcp/pcv192
Micrograph by Jessica Lazner, Marchantia polymorpha glitterscape 2024
In situ photograph by H. Casselmann, Thallus of liverworts, Wikimedia Commons 2011
Line illustration by E. Strasburger - Strasburger: Lehrbuch der Botanik für Hochschulen. G.Fischer, Jena 1900
On Monday night I had the pleasure of attending the seminar ‘Copies, multiples and remixing art history in the Digital Age’, presented by art historian Dr Katrina Grant. I was intrigued by this seminar topic after having spent time working on the conservation and digitisation of herbarium specimens and botanical artwork collections in the UniMelb herbarium and RBGV library.
Dr Grant discussed thought-provoking aspects of digitisation and the idea of culture as data. Although we typically celebrate things like machine-learning data management and large scale digitisation as positive forces in the sciences because it streamlines analytic practices, it is interesting to consider the implications of these tools.
Accessible digital collections such as our own herbarium database undeniably expand access to historically and scientifically important resources, but should we be concerned about curatorial biases (such as preferencing of well-known collectors or species of current interest) echoing into the digital realm? Is it possible that something important is lost when we separate these historical records from their cultural context in the process of aggregating digitised material over the internet?
Despite these concerns, it seems like replication in the digital age is increasingly valuable for its contributions to teaching and learning. Dr Grant discussed how 3D modelling has been used to produce replicas of fragile artefacts for children’s education and tactilely accessible exhibitions in museums. I couldn’t help but think of the School of BioSciences Botanical Model Collection.
The school looks after an incredible collection of ~150 antique plant anatomical models handmade in the 1800’s. The collection hasn’t been used for teaching purposes since the 1980’s due to fragility of the models, however, recent efforts have been made to reignite their educational purpose and accessibility through digital curation - namely 3D imaging and interactive modelling. Straddling an intersection of botanical science, history, and art, these plant models are the perfect example of fertile ground for fruitful outcomes of ‘remixing’ cultural history in the digital age.
Pictured: Drosera rotundifolia anatomical model, and Coeloclonium tasmanicum specimen collected in 1886, The University of Melbourne Herbarium (MELU)
As the wand chooses the wizard, so it seems this book chose me, right at the beginning of my trajectory into plant sciences. I found a copy by chance in the old second-hand book stall of my local community market on the Mornington Peninsula. As I read it, I became even more convinced that I’d found gold.
Kathie and Peter Strickland wrote the book as a culmination of their experienced and knowledge about native plants, bushland ecology, and cultivating natives for nursery sale. The writing was compiled by botany honours graduate Kathie, with full-page detailed line illustrations of each plant completed by Peter, who worked as an art teacher. The illustrations are not just botanically accurate, but wonderfully dynamic and lifelike.
Being published on a small scale in 1995, this book isn’t widely available – however copies exist at the National Library, and of course my bookshelf. I’m more than happy to bring it in if anyone would like to have a peak. If nothing else, take this review as a reminder to seek out rich pockets of botanical knowledge which exist wherever you go!
Pool frog (Pelophylax esculentus) with surronding Lemnoideae, Tuxyso
Much like Marchantia polymorpha which I introduced a couple of weeks ago, Lemna spp. otherwise known as ‘duckweeds’ are curiously unassuming small green plants.
Lemna are free-floating aquatic monocots which surprisingly belong to the family Araceae, which you might recognise for the well-known species Amorphophallus titanium (titan arum – the stinky one), and popular indoor plants from the genera Alocasia, Monstera, and Philodendron, among others. Not only that, but a closely related genus to Lemna, Wolffia, represent the smallest known flowering plants on Earth!
Comparative habits in the Lemnaceae, MJ Spring
Lemna are characterised by a simple green thallus frond with a single root, which their Wolffia relatives lack. Although they can flower and produce seed, duckweeds participate in rapid vegetative reproduction wherein two daughter plants form from each parent. They can double their mass within two days, and so become weedy when introduced to waterways.
Their rapid growth and high protein content make them an attractive organic farming crop, but also a great model for synthetic biology. L. gibba and L. minor have been used to measure water quality through the symptoms of phytotoxicity they exhibit when exposed to harmful chemicals. Molecular biologists have also used both Lemna and Wolffia to produce specific pharmaceutical proteins directly into their growing medium. Excitingly, Wolffia globosa is even being studied in the context of space travel as a resource for sustainable food production and bioregenerative life support systems. Check out this recipe for vegan Wolffia cake!
References:
Tippery, N. P., & Les, D. H. (2020). Tiny plants with enormous potential: phylogeny and evolution of duckweeds. The duckweed genomes, 19-38.
Romano, L. E., van Loon, J. J. W. A., Izzo, L. G., Iovane, M., & Aronne, G. Effects of altered gravity on growth and morphology in Wolffia globosa implications for bioregenerative life support systems and space-based agriculture, Sci. Rep. 14 (1)(2024) 1–11.
“Who gets to collect plants, name them, propagate them, extract their chemicals, sell them, and use them? Whose knowledge is it? And what can the people who work with plants, just outside the law, teach us about plant care?”
This book about the National Herbarium of New South Wales explores stories of the collection, its people, and the fascinating plants that have made their way into Australian herbaria. Prudence Gibson illustrates these stories around a central discussion of Australian Indigenous knowledges, plant theft, conservation, and the grey area of psychoactive plant knowledge in science.
I enjoyed the sense of botanical wonder Gibson imbues in this book. Many of her questions and insights reflect my own experience working in and around herbaria. Her descriptions of the people are as vibrant as those of the plants, highlighting valuably the human element intrinsic to botany, herbaria, and science. Gibson shares my view that art is a powerful tool for seeing the natural world in new light, and suggests that an aesthetic engagement with plants can underscore the importance of plants in context of the looming climate and biodiversity crisis.
Since 1992, the Friends of the Royal Botanical Gardens Victoria have hosted a biennial art exhibition titled The Art of Botanical Illustration, or ‘TABI’ for short. TABI celebrates the work of local botanical artists, both through the exhibition itself and the acquisition of selected pieces by the National Herbarium of Victoria at RBGV, as judged by a panel comprising expert artists and botanical scientists.
I visited TABI on Saturday, and was left in awe of the wealth of technical and creative ability on display. Several of the pieces were captivating, including Anne Hayes’ painting of Telopea speciosissima, which absolutely stole the show and earned the Celia Rosser Medal for Botanical Art. The award commemorates the significant artistic and scientific achievements of Celia Rosser OAM, best known for her monumental 25-year project ‘The Banksias’, illustrating 70 individual species of Banksia. Rosser held the role of University Botanical Artist at Monash University from 1974 and was awarded honorary MSc and PhD by Monash in 1981 and 1999 respectively.
Although the exhibition is now closed, the artworks are still available for viewing via an online gallery. There are also snippets on the history of the exhibition, including several short videos from curators and artists. I highly recommend anyone interested in botanical art to visit the next time TABI is on!
Are you a plant collecting enthusiast with a taste for evolutionary oddities, high-maintenance pets, or something to tackle those pesky fungus gnats? Carnivorous plants might be your new best friend!
Every year, the Victorian Carnivorous Plant Society (VCPS) hosts an annual show and plant sale at Collectors Corner nursery in Springvale. This year's show is open to the public from Saturday 7th - Sunday 8th December, and you’ll be able to chat to members of the VCPS, admire award-winning show plants, and purchase a range of native and exotic carnivorous plants. I have attended the show two years in a row and am a big fan of both the VCPS and Collectors Corner, so highly recommend checking it out if you can make the trip to Springvale! Find out more here.
PS. Did you know that Australia is a hotspot for carnivorous plant diversity? We have almost 200 native species from 6 genera, including ~117 species of Drosera (also known as sundews), a handful of aquatic and semi-aquatic species, and pitcher plants including Cephalotus follicularis, the Albany pitcher. C. follicularis is endemic to WA and the only member of its genus!
On the 11th November, thousands of people flocked to the Geelong Botanic Gardens to witness the blooming of a rare and unusual flower, Amorphophallus titanum, otherwise known as the ‘Titan Arum’ or ‘Corpse Flower’. This was the first bloom for this particular plant, which is about 10 years old and was acquired by the Geelong gardens from the Botanic Gardens and State Herbarium of South Africa in 2021.
These incredible plants bloom as infrequently as once every 10 years. When not in bloom, the plant grows to store energy in the form of a tall, branched leaf with many leaflets. These single leaves look deceptively like a small green tree. As for the inflorescence itself, it consists of a tall spadix which houses many flowers at its base, a deep purple spathe, and large underground tuber attached to the inflorescence by a structure called a peduncle. A. titanum is classified as the largest unbranched inflorescence in the world, with the largest tuber on record weighing 153.9kg and the tallest inflorescence at 322.5cm.
Once the flower begins to bloom, it lasts between 24-48 hours with the spathe the most open at night, when the odour released by the flower is also at its peak. While the scientific name Amorphophallus titanum pertains to its morphology, the common name 'corpse flower' is inspired by its smell, which serves to attract pollinating flies and carrion beetles usually attracted to the smell of rotting animals.
You can read an ABC article on the bloom here.
And more about the cultivation of A. titanum here.
The entire blooming of the Geelong specimen was live-streamed on youtube.
Image: infographic guide to A. titanum morphology. Jessica Lazner 2024