Frangipani, Plumeria, Lonely Hearts Posts and New Books to Read!
Looks like I'll be moving to a new place soon - a vague timeline - where there will be a heated 40' long by 15' wide greenhouse. Concrete footing. Gravel floor. Gas heat. This thing is large. It should be a delight. In fact, I really don't care about the house... which is something else entirely. In my head it is all about the greenhouse. (See my earlier post (10/10/06) Choices if you care to.)
I've been daydreaming about what I'll do in there... and I've been thinking for some time about growing some Frangipani, which I love. This is often called Temple Tree, Pagoda Tree, Temple Flower Tree or, more vaguely, Plumeria.
This photo is from Flickr. It really shows the beauty of this tropical tree/shrub. I am only guessing, but I think this might be the "Indonesian Rainbow" cultivar of Plumeria rubra. Gorgeous, no? Although this species of plant is commonly named exotic things, they are Tropical New World plants (for example, a common name for Plumeria obtusa is "Singapore", but it is originally from Columbia ).
Frangipani is a "common name" for this plant. I don't normally use the common names in my thinking because they are usually vague at best and ultimately meaningless at worst. (I won't get into that here.) The Frangipani of which I am thinking is from the dogbane (Apocynaceae) family - from the Greek apo (away from or away with) and kyon, kuon, kunos (dog). This family of plants is noxious to dogs, and had an ancient use as a dog poison, hence dogbane. But my dogs will be safe enough!
The actual botanical name is Plumeria rubra. Plumeria. I can't tell you how often I see things labeled "Plumeria" which are nothing of the sort. Sometimes I even see paniculated phlox labeled as a Plumeria variety. It isn't. Plumeria is a tropical plant genus. It is a tree. And there aren't that many species (less than 10). (There are hundreds of varieties or cultivars of some of the species though.) The point is there aren't that many things than can be called Plumeria.
However, it gets confusing because, as the wikipedia article elucidates, "Each of the separate species bear differently shaped leaves and their form and growth habits are also distinct. The leaves of P. alba are quite narrow and corrugated, unlike any other. Leaves of P. pudica are remarkably unique with their elongated oak shape and glossy, dark green color. Pudica is also one of the rare everblooming types with non-deciduous, evergreen leaves."
This where botanical names come in handy. But even they can get you in trouble. For example, very often I also run across the explanation for this name as "being like a feather or plume." By this rationale the plant is "Feather/Plume red." But that's not really true either. "The genus, originally spelled Plumiera, is named in honor of the seventeenth-century French botanist Charles Plumier, who traveled to the New World documenting many plant and animal species."i By all accounts Plumier was quite a guy. My main man, the swede Linnæus, who came after Plumier's time, thought very highly of the Frenchman. It was Linnæus who named the genus Plumeria after him in the first place. I could write all day about Linnæus, and have. I've created an entire category of essays which mention him.
But Plumier is noteworthy too, especially if you wear cosmetics or clothing with any kind of deep crimson, scarlet, orange or red hues. Most of these things utilize a dye called Carmine (carminic acid) which comes from the insect we call a cochineal. You should read about how this little bug is "farmed" on living cacti using tiny little handmade Zapotec nests. "Cochineal [dye, and therefore Carmine which comes from it] is one of the few water-soluble colourants that resist degradation with time. It is one of the most light-and-heat-stable and oxidation-resistant of all the natural colourants and is even more stable than many synthetic food colours.ii" In fact, the story of Red Dye is a truly fascinating tale as well. Really! There is a great book by Amy Butler Greenfield on our human search for a good red dye. It is not an overly technical read. Very interesting. It is called: A Perfect Red: Empire, Espionage, and the Quest for the Color of Desire
And while I'm recommending books that no one will read but could thoroughly enjoy if only they'd take a leap of faith, I'll recommend the story of the first aniline dye... which happens to be the story of the Mauve. It is an unbelievable tale too. "Mauve was first named in 1856 - not so very long ago really - by a young chemist named William Henry Perkin, then eighteen, who was attempting to create artificial quinine. An unexpected residue caught his eye, which turned out to be the first aniline dye - specifically, mauveine, sometimes called aniline purple."iii The book is by Simon Garfield and is called Mauve: How One Man Invented a Color That Changed the World
Anyway, it was Charles Plumier who first worked closely with the cochineal in Martinique. It was through Plumier's observations that the cochineal was officially placed into the animal kingdom and classed among the insects.
At his death Plumier left thirty-one manuscript volumes containing descriptions, and about 6000 drawings, 4000 of which were of plants, while the remainder reproduced American animals of nearly all classes, especially birds and fish. The botanist Boerhave had 508 of these drawings copied at Paris; these were published later by Burmann, Professor of Botany at Amsterdam, under the title: "Plantarum americanarum, quas olim Carolus Plumierus detexit", fasc. I-X (Amsterdam, 1755-60), containing 262 plates. Plumier also wrote treatises for the Journal des Savants and for the Mémoires de Trévoux.iv
The point is that the genus of "Plumeria" has some history. And that's fun. I can't think of a Frangipani plant without thinking of Charles Plumier, cactus farms, and brightly colored dye. But I'm thinking specifically of Frangipani right about now - or at least I was, before I started typing. The plant itself is named for its fragrance, which is in turn a reference to an unclear yet particular member of the Frangipani family of medieval Italy.
This family, long prominent in a place and time where much happened, is all over the place: papal histories, architecture, politics, art, you name it. In fact, this family is all over Europe now. However, as for perfume, I can't find anything definitive. Some sources say it was an Italian Noble Man from the middle ages who invented perfume. Others indicate that it was a Noble Woman. Some indicate that the perfume in question was for gloves. Some say the Frangipani plant is so named because this noble invented a plumeria-scented perfume, though most indicate that the fragrance was almond based. How much of this is true? I can't say just yet. But we know that perfume is very old, much older than the middle ages. The history of perfume goes back thousands of years to Ancient Egypt.
I will not go back because, because as it is, I have already learned more than I ever cared to know about perfume... which isn't much. Here's the thing: Plumeria is a tropical and subtropical new world genus. Like everything else today, they've traveled. But in the 15th century I'd think it unlikely (but not implausible) that the perfume came from what would eventually be named Plumeria. But by the 16th I'd say it is more likely... especially for a prominent Italian family like the Frangipanis.
However, my experience with the way things are named justifies something as simple as:
Plumerias smell good. I'm getting a stipend from a Hapsburg Prince with an Italian wife. He's trying to calm her down because she's just caught him with some Dutch courtier. The heat is on. Some person in Italy invented some kind of good smelling something, right? What's that name? Frangipani? What if we name this new plant from that monk's diary, "Frangipani" and tell the Prince? He can then tell his wife and we'll get a new house!"
Just a guess.
Also, it was named Plumeria rubra... not Frangipani.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is "I don't know." I'm just trying to figure out Frangipanis... which is really the underlying reason for this post.
But I can't leave well enough alone and the only source I could find that seemed at all authoritative, referenced an obscure book. Seems that on page 157 of this book there is a reference to some Frangipani named "Mutio." I don't know what gender "Mutio" is... but the "o" feels masculine. This Mutio fellow was an alchemist among other things. And he's mentioned in a perfume book. This got me hooked... aside from the fact that I am obviously a wackjob and can't control myself around obscure books. I've ordered the book of course. I'll let you know.
The book in question is The art of perfumery, and the methods of obtaining the odours of plants; with instructions for the manufacture of ... dentifrices, pomatums, cosmetiques, ... soap, etc... 
I don't have the book yet, but this is what I know. This book was originally published in Philadelphia by Lindsay and Blakiston. It includes an appendix on the colors of flowers, artificial fruit essences, etc. The first edition was published in London in 1855. The 1857 "original" may be the first American edition. This book is considered the seminal work on perfumery; essentially a cookbook for perfumers. Based on what I know about a few of the readers here, I think this might get some of your attention. Each chapter is devoted to one fragrance such as almond, jasmine, musk, orange, patchouly, clove and others. Additional chapters illustrate the methods for producing scented soaps, creams, oils and other products. I don't know if coloring soap with chlorophyll is included.v Anyway, if even for the plant information, this book has my attention.
And then I learned about the author. This guy, George William Septimus Piesse, was an interesting cat. He was an English1 chemist, perfumer and inventor who, among other things, invented the odophone. What's that you ask? Well... now we are getting deep, deep, deep into perfume land - how did this happen?.
I found an article on the Aroma Web (I didn't know there was such a thing) that does a better job of explaining Piesse's odophone than I can.
Harmonizing Your Blend
Have you ever noticed that a fragrance smells differently after several hours than when you first apply it? Some essential oils evaporate more quickly than others. As the oils in a blend evaporate, the aroma will change to reflect the aroma of the remaining oils.
Using the analogy of a musical scale, oils that evaporate the quickest, usually within 1-2 hours, are called “top notes.” Oils that evaporate with 2-4 hours are considered “middle notes.” Oils that take the longest time to evaporate are referred to as “base notes.” Some base notes can take several days to evaporate! Edward Sagarin vi credits Septimus Piesse with this analogy that has been used by many perfumers:
“Another contribution to the field of odor classification was made by the famous perfumer and perfume historian, Septimus Piesse. This unique figure in the history of the science created what he called an “odophone.” The odors were like sounds, he pointed out, and a scale could be created going from the first or lowest note, the heavy smell to the last or highest note, the sharp smell. In between there was an ascending ladder. Each odor note corresponded to a key on his odophone, and in the creation of a happy mixture of many different odors, which we call a “bouquet” and which every finished perfume must be, the creator seeks not only to hit the right notes, but to strike those notes which go with one another. His perfume must not be out of tune.”
What huh whaaaaaa?
Uh... yeah! I think I get this. If my home were a symphony:
Nice! 2 I won't sweat the clean up quite so much in the future... it's all part of the music. I think I would have liked to have spoken to this guy. I can't wait for the book.
Anyway... Frangipani... it's a plant, it's a family.
And this leads to the tipping point that got me started writing this thing in the first place: I read a humorous little ditty on the Language Hat blog. I don't know if any of you read this blog, but I find it enormously entertaining in a very dry way. I understand very little of it, but what I do comprehend, I enjoy. Sometimes I laugh out loud. However, I don't know if it is intended to be funny.
At any rate, his posting from October 30th, 2006 is entitled: "Come to me, Frangipani." Short and sweet. Made me laugh. I was thinking about Frangipani anyway and then... bingo.
The post is a reference to a recently released book edited by David Rose entitled "They Call Me Naughty Lola: Personal Ads from the London Review of Books
The review gives a lot away, so I'll not spoil the fun but just give a taste. Language Hat took the Frangipani, I'll take another:
'Bald, short, fat and ugly male, 53, seeks short-sighted woman with tremendous sexual appetite.'
Hysterical.
Looks like I have to buy another book.
1. Sources list Septimus Piesse as any of a varieties of nationalities. One presumes that the train of thought went like this: Piesse was a perfumer so he must have been French, or Piesse seems like a German name so he must have been German, or his most famous book was published in America so he must have been American, or his brother was a politician in Australia so Septimus must have been Australian. This kind of thing drives me crazy. If one doesn't know, one shouldn't pronounce as definitively so. Whatever. Septimus was most decidedly English. His brother was an English politician in Australia. There it is. However, the Piesse family is still very prominent in Australia and Australian politics. Just do a wikipedia search of Piesse and you'll see. Back to text.
2. From the same "Aroma Web" article there is a table of smells as notes. This is getting a little goofy. The table is below.
Below is a chart of commonly available oils based on their common classification:
List of Books
A Perfect Red: Empire, Espionage, and the Quest for the Color of Desire
Mauve: How One Man Invented a Color That Changed the World
The art of perfumery, and the methods of obtaining the odours of plants; with instructions for the manufacture of ... dentifrices, pomatums, cosmetiques, ... soap, etc...
They Call Me Naughty Lola: Personal Ads from the London Review of Books
i. From wikipedia here. Back to text.
ii. From wikipedia here. Originally from Wild Flavors, Inc. E120 Cochineal. The wild world of solutions. Back to text.
iii. From wikipedia here. Back to text.
iv. From wikipedia here. Back to text.
v. From an antique book website - I can't attest to the accuracy, but it seems good. Back to text.
vi. Edward Sagarin, The Science and Art of Perfumery (New York, NY: McGraw-Hill, 1945), 145. Back to text.
Wow! Where do I start? First of all what a wonderful surprise to visit your site and have that beautiful music by Nina Simone pop up. I am thoroughly enjoying it.
Then, all the new information: I had no idea the Plumeria was also called Frangipani, so I looked up "frangipani" on google Italia and learned more. The 16th century Italian nobleman Muzio Frangipani (if you look up Muzio with a z, I think you will find more info) is said to have concocted a scent made of amber and "zibetto", which is the scent extracted from the glands of the civet cat (I guess that would be musk). He used this scent inside his gloves. There is also something known as "frangipane", which is an almond flavored dessert cream.
I have several books on aromatherapy, because I became very interested in it a few years ago, causing me to take workshops, buy lots of expensive little bottles of essential oils, and inundate family and friends with scented oils, pomades, bath salts, homemade soaps, on and on. I still concoct on occasion to burn the mixtures in special little burners. In any case, I could not find any reference to the essential oil of frangipani or plumeria in any of my books, but I did find one Italian company online that sells essential oil of frangipani. I am assuming it smells like the flower, not the almond cream.
Next: I am very jealous that you are getting a greenhouse. Ever since my post on Sunday about my visit to my friends' greenhouse I want one too!! By the way, I don't know if you came across it in your research, but I found an interesting article online by a Prof. Kenneth M. Weiss, entitled Perfume, but at the moment I don't know its URL. Most of it was way over my head, but parts of it were fascinating.
Thanks again for this great post.
County Clerk's Response: Wow is right! Thank You for the compliments and GREAT INFO. MUZIO. That makes it easier! This is definately an Italian story! I'll look up the perfume essay! I'll take any info (on seemingly any subject) that i can get. As for the house and greenhouse... well... it all isn't exactly nice just yet. In fact, the property is VERY run down. Maybe even frightening. But I'll change all that soon enough.
Posted by: Anna Maria | November 01, 2006 at 07:46 PM
Sorry about that. Didn't realize how long my comment was. Am I breaking any blogosphere rules?
County Clerk's Response: OK... First of all, I am declaring this blog as a NO APOLOGY ZONE. Second, no apology is needed. Anna Maria, I don't even know you so I don't know how YOU are but I get a BIG BANG out of seeing that people are reading my little posts. And I get a BIGGER BANG when they actually post comments. Plus, I can't say anything briefly. My attitude is that NO COMMENT IS TOO LONG.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is THANK YOU for reading! Have a great day!
Posted by: Anna Maria | November 01, 2006 at 07:48 PM
I'm sorry. What's that? You want me to leave a comment? OK. In a minute. But right now I'm too busy dancing around the room singing along to Nina. What a nice surprise!
County Clerk's Response: Ha! I just couldn't make it through the week without Nina. Thank you for the nice comment!
Posted by: Lisa (Homesick Texan) | November 01, 2006 at 08:46 PM
Dude, between Nina and Plumeria, who needs an exotic Capital city surname?
But I still like Hidalgo.
County Clerk's Response: Ha! Bruce, I have no idea what is in your head but feel compelled to mention one obvious fact: at this moment it is dawn and while my life may have Nina and Frangipani in it, the morning looks to me like it is mostly stubbed toes, barking dogs, snow flurries and dank fallen leaves scattered about a very strange cottage in an even stranger place. I think I may have fallen through the looking glass.
hank hidalgo
Posted by: Bruce | November 02, 2006 at 12:46 AM
I have just shown this entry to a friend who loves plumerias and has 4 varieties of them.
As a matter of fact we printed 2 copies of it, one for him because he found the information on plumerias so interesting, and one for me, for all in the information on the different scents. One could spend days just looking up all the information and books you link to.
We agreed that your entries are truly amazing.
Clerk's Response: I am at a loss as to what to reply. I am not accumstomed to receiving such nice compliments. Thank you. It makes me feel extraordinarily good to know that my little essays are being read... and by people who like them. I'm a little shocked. Thank you so much. I'll keep 'em coming!
Posted by: Anna Maria | November 03, 2006 at 01:58 PM
Hello Clerk!
I have got a painting as a present on the last evening before we left Koh Samui given to me by a very special person.
As i opened the roll and saw the painting it was a flower. There is a story behind to tell would be to long for the comment.
Now i found the name of the flower in your blog together with an extraordinary article.
This kept me reading some more articles and now i know i am not the only absolutely crazy man, how my friends and colleagues call me because i write so big and long articles. Often the words flow over my fingers to the keyboard automatically. It must be written. If there is somebody out there that will read it, this is ok. But it is fantastic if somebody likes it.
Keep on doing this!
Best regards from the other end of the world
PeterPan
Posted by: PeterPan | March 31, 2008 at 07:02 PM