My "Four Gentlemen"

04/02/2025 Thursday 43-56F Cloudy

In Chinese cultural history, people loved to regard plants as human beings; therefore they could put their thoughts into the plants and resonate with them. Sometimes a plant could be considered a radiant lady, such as a tree peony, since it had gorgeous flowers and looked feminine; sometimes a plant was considered an elder man since its branches were twisted and chapped. In my recent video, I mentioned Confucius and the orchid (video: The Lady in The Attic-Kungfu Tea, Orchid, and Confucius)—the reason they two were connected was because the situation of the orchids growing in the weeds evoked Confucius’ sympathy and self-pity. So, in fact it’s not the orchid’s feeling, it’s the person’s feeling about the orchid. Had Confucius been in a better situation, he wouldn’t feel the same way and perhaps would praise: “Aha, even growing in the weeds, orchid is still orchid and still pretty!”

As a home gardener, I love plants; and as a fashion designer, I love to put them on my garments, precisely, embroider them as the symbol and the soul of my garments. Sometimes people asked me: “It’s interesting that you put these flowers on the clothes. Can I know that, among all the plants, why you picked this one and that one?”

Well, the meaning behind my embroideries is simple—All plants are born equal, but some are more equal than others 😅. So far I have embroidered eight animals (dragon, lion, tiger, eagle, spider, mamba, cicada, grasshopper), and seven plants (tree peony, sinensis, pine, chrysanthemum, mume flower, orchid, lotus). Among all the seven plants, three are called “The Four Gentlemen” by Chinese people, they are: Mume flower, orchid, and chrysanthemum. The only missing one is bamboo.

Mume flower holds a great position in Chinese culture. There is always a dispute about which one, tree peony or mume, should be the national flower. Even though the dispute hasn’t settled yet, in some way mume is more popular in China perhaps due to its wide cultivars—it can grow in most parts of China from the north to the south, while the tree peony prefers colder zones so it can accumulate enough cold hours to form its flower buds. Mume is considered the first flower to greet spring. Because of this feature and its endurance, people sang the praises of it in many poems and art. One of the most famous poems about mume is: “The sharp blade of a sword comes from persistently honing; the gorgeous fragrance of mume flowers is developed through bitter cold.”

The green-flowered mume on my embroidery is the actual plant growing in my garden. We had a tough winter early this year, which basically killed all the flower buds. I thought that perhaps I wouldn’t see any flowers this spring, while just two days ago, when the weather started to warm up a bit, I noticed two little pearl-like buds appear on the branches. Though only two flowers, it’s enough, far better than none!

About this orchid cultivar, I think I am a little too crazy about it. So far, I have made two videos about it, the third is on the way; and I painted four paintings of it. Personally, mume flower has a prettier and more exquisite flower form; while this orchid’s scent is more unique and the number of its flowers is very limited, therefore each single blossom becomes more precious. No doubt that my orchid embroidery was inspired by it as well: Green-petaled, white-faced, and red-necked. Starting from mid-January till now, about two months, it bloomed three flowers; the fourth one is still struggling to open—it dislikes warm weather; in the past several days the weather was warmer than usual. Bloom or not, I have no regret about it this year.

The commonly seen chrysanthemums in the USA are ping-pang sized mum. Every fall they dominate the shelves of the local nurseries in pink, yellow, and white colors. The chrysanthemums often found in China are spider chrysanthemums, which have skinny, long petals curled up at the end. I had two spider chrysanthemums in my garden, one was yellow and the other one was green. Two years ago, the yellow one grew very well, nearly five feet high and wide, and bloomed about one hundred flowers. Then it sprouted from the roots in the following spring. In order to give it a better location, I transplanted it. Unfortunately, it never came back. I felt very frustrated: How could such a robust plant all of sudden die just because of transplanting? 

My green spider chrysanthemum didn’t grow as large as the yellow. Its stalk seemed very fragile last autumn but based on my husband, it had prettier flower-heads. But today when I weeded my flower bed, I didn’t see any sprout from this little guy. I know the past winter had been very tough and it may have died. If so, I can’t blame it—it has done its mission; I have embroidered it on our CPO shirts.  

While I wrote the above words, I just realized that all these three flowers are green. Does that mean I subconsciously love green flowers more than other colors? Perhaps because green flowers are rarer than any other colors, so they attracted my eyes, then I planted them in my garden and was inspired by them. 

You may ask: How about bamboo? Do I have any plan to embroider it? My answer is: I would like to, but so far, I have no plan to. All the plants I have embroidered thus far, either them or very similar ones are growing in my garden. However, I didn’t, and can’t plant bamboo due to their invasive root system. My yard is too small to allow it to grow naturally and happily without invading into my neighbor’s yard. Regretfully—I love eating bamboo shoots so much; and I love its slender, supple silhouette which naturally forms art when the moon rises above it. An orchard, a  vegetable garden and a bamboo forest, these are the must-have features of my ideal garden. 

But I may do maple, another signature autumn species besides chrysanthemum, as my next new plant embroidery—about how to fulfill this design, I have no idea yet.

About the new animal embroidery, I will do “Papillion”, do you know what that is 😜?