About 10 years ago,
coleus began to awaken from a long slumber. Since then, amazing
new hybrids have stirred a passion that rivals that of the Victorian
era. While it’s not likely you’ll see coleus used over great expanses
of lawn in precise, geometric designs or forming concentric circles
of around the base of a pedestal bejeweled with a gazing globe,
it’s certain you’ll be seeing a lot more of it. Coleus is already
keeping the same company as it did back in the 1800s, sharing
beds with such tropicals as canna and elephant ear.
The ornamental plant
that Dutch traders introduced to Europe in the mid-1800s is thought
to be related to S. blumeri, which has nettle-like leaves variegated
yellow to dull red to purplish. The psychedelic leaf patterns
and colors are the result of natural genetic variation.
It’s no wonder that
coleus comes from an interesting family, the Labiatae or mint
family. Herbs and shrubs in this family are rich in volatile oils
and are recognizable by a four-angled or square stem. The genus
Coleus, recently renamed Solenostemon, encompasses 60 or so species,
some of which are aromatic or medicinal, such as S. forskohlii,
which is used in Eastern medicine for asthma and glaucoma.
One aromatic coleus,
S. canina-hybrid is currently marketed to repel dogs and cats
(see www.millstadtjungplants.com).
Glasshouse Works, a coleus specialist, describes the smell of
the crushed leaves as “’Eau de Firehydrant’ fragrance.”
Plants from the Victorian
Era thrived in the sun as well as shade as their wide landscape
use indicates. So how did coleus go from sunny lawns to shady
nooks and brilliant to boring?
Coleus’ fall from favor
is blamed on an industry cost-cutting measure. The early practice
of growing plants from cuttings meant that growers had to winter
over cuttings in heated greenhouses. Seed-grown types, on the
other hand, flower and go to seed readily in the fall, making
seed collection easy and allowing growers to start new plants
every spring.
But what made seed
collection easy for growers translated into an inferior plant
that made work for the gardener. By season’s end, plants went
to flower and had to be endlessly deadheaded, and then declined.
In addition, seed-grown plants were less tolerant of the sun and
most at home in dappled shade. Grown in full sun, their vivid
colors turned ghostly.
The wake-up call came
in the early 1990s. Growers and specialists began uncovering the
old varieties and importing new and different types. While some
of the introductions were seed-grown, most became vegetatively
propagated from cuttings.
The newly created hybrids
are more akin to a perennial than an annual. Their vigor and easy-rooting
make it easy for the gardener to make cuttings and keep them year
after year. Many thrive in full sun and flowering has been significantly
reduced.
Many of these new cultivars
were bred for sun tolerance, and most deliver on the promise.
Exhaustive trails in the sun-baked fields of Florida, Georgia,
and Texas have demonstrated which cultivars can thrive in frying-pan
conditions. See more about those trails further on.
Colors and color combinations
cover the spectrum, from subtle to screaming. The palette ranges
from deep burgundies and lime greens to straw yellows and sassy
reds in all shades and blends. Margins and veins often add a contrasting
accent.
Leaf patterns are equally
diverse, suggesting such things as paisley, fine lace, tattoos,
abstract art, 1950’s polka dots, or even oriental rugs. No description
can do them justice.
Take a look at two
on-line photo galleries: http://www.glasshouseworks.com/trop-c2.html
and http://www.glasshouseworks.com/trop-c3.htmll.
The new coleus hybrids come with an added bonus: whimsical names.
Some of my favorites include ‘Flirtin’ Skirts,’ ‘Inky Fingers,’
Pistachio Nightmare,’ ‘Religious Radish,’ ‘Killer Klown,’ ‘Purple
Ducksfoot,’ ‘Appaloosa,’ ‘Fright Night,’ and ‘Large Marge.’
There are other changes,
too. The hybrids offered a a wider variety of habit, leaf form,
and size than yesterday’s coleus. You’ll find sturdy upright growers
reaching 5 feet like ‘Atlas’ and ‘Florida Sunrise.’ A few are
low growers, such as ‘Trailing Red’ and ‘Trailing Green.’ ‘Thumbellina’
mounds at less than a foot, and ‘Ducksfoot’ reaches about 18 inches.
However, most cultivars stop growing at about 2 feet. Leaves,
though usually spade shaped, come in all sizes. They can be narrow
like ’The Line’ or broad like ‘Atlas,’ ‘Florida Sunshine Jade,’
‘Japanese Giant, ‘or ‘Solar Sunrise.’ The name “Ducksfoot” describes
the tiny, lobed leaves on several cultivars. Some leaf margins
are scalloped like ‘Atlas’ or frilly like ‘Red Ruffles.’
I came across a few
varieties that break with the tradition of the unsightly flower
spike. Glasshouse Works reports that ‘Japanese Giant’ sports a
lovely violet-blue flower. ‘Trailing Red’ and ‘Trailing Green,’
which are ideal for hanging pots, bear blue orchid-like flowers
continuously without elongating, according to Log House Plants
(www.loghouseplants.com).
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