"A Century of Women on Topsoil"
By Sally Rubenstone '73
An admission office tour guide is shepherding a small group of visitors
across the Smith campus. Her first stop is outside the Lyman Plant House.
"Some people think that what you see here is the Botanic Garden,"
she explains, gesturing toward a flower-festooned fence and the lily-padded
pond beyond. "But, at Smith, our entire campus was designed as a botanic
garden 100 years ago." A prospective student yawns. Her mother, an
alumna, turns to her and whispers, "I heard that back when I came here."
"Which," replies the daughter, smiling slyly, "was 100 years
ago, too."
President Seelye's vision dates from the earliest days of Smith, when
he imagined the marriage of art and nature in grounds that were not only
aesthetically pleasing but also scientifically ordered-an apt environment
in which the liberal arts could flourish. In 1890, under his guidance, the
college engaged a landscape firm led by Frederick Law Olmsted, renowned
for the design of New York City's Central Park. Olmsted's plans called for
more than a thousand diverse trees, herbs and plants. These bore labels
that proclaimed their names and native regions.
In 1895, with a gift from Northampton's Lyman family, a range of glasshouses
was begun by another noted firm, Lord & Burnham. As the college grew,
other additions included an Alpine-style rock garden-one of the first in
America-and a "systematics" garden, organized by family groupings.
An herbarium housed a reference collection of mounted plant specimens. Graceful
lindens, oaks and sugar maples lined campus lanes.
Jennifer "Vern" Long '95 came to Smith planning to major in
government. Instead, she is now a Ph.D. candidate in plant breeding at Cornell.
"I took a horticulture course my first semester at Smith and within
three weeks I went from being an ardent political scientist to being a botanist,"
she recounts. "At one point, I was learning trees, running all over
campus looking for different specimens. As I was running home, I met an
upperclass woman, and she said, 'You're not supposed to be excited about
trees; you're supposed to be excited about boys.' So this was my realization:
that I really was excited about trees. There was something here, and I should
work with it."
Today, despite the ravages of time and change, Seelye's dream is realized.
Smith, like few other colleges, boasts a campus rivaling the world's great
gardens. More than 125 acres are home to nearly 5,000 types of plants. Each
of the 12 greenhouses in the Lyman complex shelters exotic denizens of a
different climatic zone. Dedicated staff share expertise with students and
faculty-and with any panicked owner of an ailing ficus or philodendron.
Chrysanthemum and bulb shows draw busloads of visitors in autumn and spring.
Above all, the campus serves as a living laboratory. Horticulturalists and
biologists, artists, writers and even those pursuing less closely connected
disciplines are drawn to the extraordinary resources and uncommon beauty.
"At first I found myself studying in the gardens," reflects Vern
Long, "but soon I was studying the gardens themselves."
Sue McGlew '83, acting director of the Botanic Garden, uses a handy model
for the centennial T-shirts designed by Susan Goodman '81. Photo by Jim
Gipe.
Over the past century, the botanic splendor of Smith has inspired an epiphany
in some, like Long; for others it provided pleasant memories of tagged trees
and fragrant mornings. Yet, observe Susan Komroff Cohen '62 and Paula Deitz
'59, founding co-chairs of the Friends of the Botanic Garden, disparate
Smith alumnae have been drawn together by appreciation of their alma mater's
unique setting. "One of my strongest recollections of Smith,"
says Cohen, "is of walking under majestic trees en route from Cutter
House to the library. I think we all have a sense of some piece of the Smith
landscape as having been important to us."
Cohen, a landscape architect, and Deitz, co-editor of The Hudson Review
and a freelance journalist whose articles on gardening and landscape architecture
appear often in The New York Times, have teamed up with Susan Podmayer McGlew
'83, the Botanic Garden's curator and acting director, to spearhead a variety
of centennial ventures. Officially, explains McGlew, the festivities mark
the 100 years since the Plant House itself was constructed; the gardens
around it are several years older.
Thus, a centerpiece symposium, "The Glasshouse," which recognized
how conservatory technology revolutionized plant cultivation and study,
was held at Smith in October. The event also showcased the beautiful college
glasshouses-classic examples of Victorian balloon-style design. Among many
noted guest speakers were Professor Sir Ghillean Prance, director of Kew's
Royal Botanic Gardens (with which Smith has enjoyed a long relationship);
Vincent Scully, a distinguished art historian from Yale; and The New Yorker
garden columnist Jamaica Kincaid.
Other campus anniversary activities include lectures by well-known horticulturists,
flower-arranging workshops for students and a panel discussion featuring
alumnae plant scientists and landscape architects. A commemorative booklet,
Celebrating a Century: The Botanic Garden of Smith College, by Gates Professor
of Biological Sciences C. John Burk, offers a detailed history, with botanical
illustrations by Pamela See '73.
An oak tree to honor Smith is being planted in the garden of the ambassador's
home in London. Alumnae in attendance are asked to toss dirt in the hole
that surrounds the sapling's roots. The first volunteer is the oldest guest,
who must lean her cane against a wheelbarrow to free her hands for the task.
Beside her are current students. Together, old and young sprinkle soil in
the opening, and it mingles at the base of the new tree.
Far beyond Northampton, too, the celebration resounds. The energetic Cohen
and Deitz spurred alumnae groups from Albany to Australia to organize centennial
garden parties and related events. One of the first took place in a Tokyo
teahouse last April. "A Garden Party Grand Tour" in June included
stops at private gardens in Venice and at ambassadors' residences in Paris
and London. There were more than 70 gatherings in all. "These parties
were especially meaningful," notes Deitz, "because each had an
intellectual focus that added to the beauty of the occasion."
"The enthusiasm shown through these events," adds Cohen, "was
a way of expressing not only fondness for the college but also appreciation
for President Seelye's original vision, for an academic life spent in a
garden setting."
A hundred years have passed, yet Botanic Garden staff and supporters
are looking ahead. Richard Munson, director since 1984, recently stepped
down. As a search for a successor is completed, Susan McGlew is at the helm.
McGlew, like Munson before her, emphasizes outreach-from hosting curious
local schoolchildren to maintaining the venerable seed exchange, through
which Smith shares holdings with collections worldwide.
Research and teaching, too, must remain high priorities, says McGlew. However,
the biggest challenge will be guiding the Seelye-Olmsted vision into the
21st century. "How do we make the campus still function like an arboretum?"
she asks, noting, "As new buildings are constructed, climate and traffic
patterns change." In response, the college has engaged landscape architects
Shavaun Towers '71 and Cornelia Hahn Oberlander '44 to design a master plan
that will help chart a course for the near future. Included will be the
Mary Maples Dunn Garden, which will honor the former president and her interest
in the Smith grounds.
Also forward-looking, the Friends of the Botanic Garden has thrived under
the spirited direction of Deitz and Cohen. The pair are quick to admit that
their own goals include establishing a landscape architecture program at
Smith-reviving a tradition of several decades ago. The main mission of the
Friends, however, is to support and promote the botanic collections and
facilities. The group has already made an impact, in part by sponsoring
first-rate symposia and underwriting student internships. It is an aim Paula
Deitz embraces. "Smith is sitting on one of its great underpublicized
resources," she insists. "I want our Botanic Garden to take its
rightful place in the world."