What is Floriography?
The word arose during the Victorian Era and is another mishmash of Latin and Greek roots (like the word homosexual, which combines Greek and Latin roots). Flores are flowers in Latin. Graphein is to write in Greek. Floriography is the language of flowers.
My grandmothers introduced me to the cultural meaning of flowers. My father’s mother explained what the different colors of roses signify. Red roses? I love you. Pink roses? Sweetheart. White roses? Mother. And yellow roses? I’m sorry.
My mother’s mother, when she wasn’t teaching me the role of ants in a peony’s blooming—tl; dr: ants need to eat the buds open—walked me to the beautiful dogwood tree in her front yard to show me the blooms. “Do you see the red dots at the edge of all four petals? The cross Christ was crucified on was made from dogwood, and ever since, the flowers bore the traces of His blood.”
The Floriography Project
In 2006, Hiro and I sold our Bellevue condo and moved north to British Columbia. The reasons for the move are complicated and deserve their own exposition, but the critical thing to know now is that I went on a student visa. In the fall of 2006 and the spring of 2008 (I took 2007 off, which is also a story that deserves its own exposition), I was in a graphic design program jointly hosted by the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design and the British Columbia Institute of Technology.
The spring semester focused on a final project that combined everything I had learned (about typography, book design, Photoshop, InDesign, and more). I already had a portfolio of sorts. I had gotten deep into floral macro photography in 2002 and had sold my photographs at farmers’ markets in Redmond in Issaquah in the years before we moved.
The final project organically grew out of my photography, and I began formally researching floriography. I realized that there were at least two different schools of floriography. I knew the most about the Victorian English school but also threw myself into learning more about floriography in Japan.
Flowers as Queer Symbols
It might not have been wise of my parents to encourage my love of learning because I became fascinated with Greek myths from an early age. More so than the tale of Theseus and the Minotaur, I empathized with Hyacinth, the beautiful youth pursued by Apollo, who, like Narcissus, was immortalized as a flower ever after refusing the sun god’s entreaties.
Speaking of Greeks, violets are associated with the poetess Sappho. Her love poems to other women contain references to many different types of flowers. Still, violets—sometimes noted in Sappho’s verses as purple flowers—stand out enough to be present on the new (dating to 2016) Sapphic Pride flag.
As I understand it, the Sapphic identity pushes back against trans-exclusionary lesbian identities. But I would be remiss as a vexillophile (someone who likes flags) to leave out the Sapphic Pride flag designed explicitly to be inclusive.
The violet color at the top of this flag is a reference to Sappho’s violets as well.
Hyacinths, by the way, never caught on as a queer symbol. Oscar Wilde, however, proposed another flower for men seeking the love of other men: the green carnation. And the creation of the Sapphic Pride flag, with the stylized violet, inspired a new flag for men who love men, the Achillean Pride flag, with a stylized green carnation.
Let me add a disclaimer, or maybe a proclaimer: I identify as queer more often than gay. I happen to be a man who loves men, but I don’t use Achillean or MLM (men who love men) as my identity. I think my husband prefers the MLM Pride flag, but nine times out of ten, our flag of choice is the Progress Pride flag, designed by our friend Daniel Quasar.
Two More Flowers
Let me note that my foray into all the flags above does indeed tie in with the floral theme. Flag is a common name for wild irises (Iris pseudacorus).
And I am also proud to reclaim many of the terms, like queer, that were once used as insults, including fairy and, yes, pansy.
My favorite flower, by the way, might be passionflowers. I also love their name in Japanese, 時計草 (tokeisō), meaning clockface flower.
What are your favorite flowers?
Lovely to learn yet another aspect of your upbringing and creative education Brian.
“It might not have been wise of my parents to encourage my love of learning because I became fascinated with Greek myths from an early age.”
I guess that’s open for debate.