#cornellrad

Wild Apples of Middle Asia, produced by J.S. Lawson from field drawings made by Nikolai Vavilov (1 of 6 plates donated to Cornell professor of horticulture  Richard Wellington by Nikolai Vavilov during the 6th International Genetics Conference held in Geneva, N.Y. in 1932; For an online look at the complete illustration set, please visit the Biodiversity Heritage Library at bit.ly/vavilov-apples). 

The rare and distinctive collections vault at Mann Library houses hand-colored  prints of wild apples and pears that tell an extraordinary story. The wild fruit specimens depicted were collected in Central Asia and the Caucasus by the Russian plant scientist Nikokai Vavilov (1887-1943) and his team of botanist colleagues over the course of extensive plant-finding expeditions during the early decades of the 1900s. These illustrations provide a full color glimpse of the intrepid work undertaken by a pioneering life scientist to advance food security in Russia and the world beyond. Sadly, Nikolai Vavilov’s was a brilliant career that was cut brutally short. January 26th marks the anniversary of Vavilov’s death at fifty-five in a Soviet prison in Saratov, Russia. We post this piece today in profound esteem for his inspiring legacy. 

During his all-too-brief life, Nikolai Vavilov advanced the knowledge of genetics and plant science in innumerable ways—in both lab and field.  His work on genetic homology led to the formulation of scientific law, while his expeditions to remote parts of the world both founded the largest seed bank of his time and traced the origins of numerous crop species.

Original Russian edition of N.I.Vavilov’s Studies on the Origin of Cultivated Plants, Leningrad, 1926, donated to Cornell University by the author. The work was widely acclaimed by the world’s plant scientists for establishing the geographical origins of major food crops. 

Born in 1887 just west of Moscow, Vavilov became an international star of Soviet science in the 1920s.  He traveled widely, not just to collect specimens but to collaborate and share ideas with fellow scientists around the world.  In 1932 Vavilov came to Ithaca to participate at the 6th International Congress on Genetics, hosted at Cornell University.  

The Sixth International Congress on Genetics, Cornell University, 1932; excerpt shows Nikolai Vavilov among his international colleagues.

He wasn't here simply to lecture, though; afterwards, writing for a Soviet audience, he made effort to bring what he learned in Ithaca to the USSR.  An excellent example is what Vavilov wrote about Dr. Barbara McClintock, who was researching maize genetics at Cornell:

"For our understanding of chromosomes, the star exhibit was the work of the young assistant to Cornell University, Miss McClintock. She displayed her remarkable preparations of corn chromosomes, allowing one to see the chromosomes' internal structure. This new technique made it possible to visually distinguish chromosomes, and to identify discrete chromosomal regions. Her astute understanding of the genetic background of corn could be seen by looking at the maps she created. These maps charted the distribution of genes over cytological scans, making it possible to connect the internal structure of the chromosome with the external phenomena of the genes. Miss McClintock was able to capture the conjugation of non-homologous chromosomes, and map the chromosomal sectioning of corn. This discovery is of huge significance, as all modern conceptions of genetics are based on the assumption that only homologous chromosomes conjugate."

(Written by N. I. Vavilov for the All-Soviet Academy of Agricultural and Rural Sciences in the name of Lenin: Institute of Applied Botany of USSR, available online in Russian at the All-Russian Research Institute of Plant Genetics. Translated to English by Anya Osatuke)

Unfortunately, the 1932 Genetics Congress in Geneva, N.Y. was the last the world outside of Russia would see of Nikolai Vavilov. By the 1930’s, Vavilov’s line of research in plant genetics had fallen deeply out of favor with the Stalin regime, which sought to purge Soviet institutes of science from any scholarship that argued with principles of Lysenkoism, a doctrine of the Soviet era—since de-bunked—that rejected Mendelian genetics and asserted an inexorable passing along of environmentally-influenced traits from all organisms to their offspring. Increasingly pressured by the Stalin government and hedged out by ideological pseudo-science, Vavilov was barred from travel until his arrest in 1940. Three years later, he perished imprisoned, likely from starvation. 

By the early 1950s, the political tides in the Soviet Union were turning. Soviet science under the regime of Nikita Kruschev slowly abandoned Lysenkoism. In 1987, a celebration marked the official rehabilitation of Vavilov and his scientific contributions in the eyes of the Soviet government. A postage stamp was issued in Vavilov’s honor and a collection of his papers on food crop origins was published, with an English translation produced five years later and reissued in 1997. Today, Russia’s premier institute for genetics research bears Vavilov’s name: the Vavilov Institute of General Genetics in Moscow. And the institute that Vavilov founded over a century ago, the Institute for Plant Genetic Resources in St. Petersburg, which keeps a collection of seeds of thousands of food plant varieties and has an extraordinary story of its own to tell, continues to be a world renowned center for the preservation of agrobiodiversity. 

The Royal Vineyard Fig, illustrated by J. L. MacFarlane, in The Florist and Pomologist, London, 1871. (In the special collections of Mann Library, Cornell University)

Curvy, soft, and delicious. Richly hued inside and out in varying shades of green, creamy white and reddish brown, mildly sweet when fresh, increasingly so when coaxed into its browner, chewier incarnation, at which point it becomes a favored dried fruit of the winter holiday season. We present to you: The fig.

Ficus carica L., the tree species that bears the edible fig fruit, has long been cultivated by humans—and may in fact have been among the very first of cultivated crops, with fossilized fig tree parts uncovered in Neolithic sites of the Asia minor region dating to more than 5000 BC. In their long history among humans, fig varieties have proliferated.  Adriatic, Black Mission, Calimyrna are among the most widely grown commercial fig types grown today. But home gardeners — at least those of us who reside in places where winter temperatures stay above 10-20 degrees Fahrenheit — have hundreds more to choose from. And back in the 19th century England, publishers of the Florist and Pomologist wanted to be sure that English households considering a fig tree addition to their kitchen gardens knew of the Royal Vineyard Fig,  a variety “of sterling merit” with “flavour [that] is particularly rich and excellent—indeed it may be described as superexcellent!”

The persuasive prose and lovely artwork offered by the Florist and Pomologist make it a little hard not to be tempted to make room for a  new fruit-bearing fig tree in the backyard. Indeed, the case for the Royal Vineyard Fig presented here is great example of 19th century British horticultural publishing industry at work.  A rich combination of botanical detail, practical instruction, quality advice, and fine artwork characterized publishing in the horticultural field during the 19th century. As a monthly publication, the Florist and Pomologist enlisted contributions by gardeners, fruit growers and breeders from across England to promote horticulture as a hobby across a steadily growing English middle class.

From The Florist and Pomologist, London, 1863.

Describing native and exotic fruit and flower species, as well as both old and newly developed hybrids, the The Florist and Pomologist provided practical tips for getting the various featured plants to thrive in the English climate. For growing figs, for example an 1863 issue of the journal suggests the reasonableness and how to’s of growing fig trees in pots, which can of course be more easily moved indoors in the event of a fig-tree-killing cold front in any given winter season. Indeed, the seasonal granularity of the advice provided by the journal’s writers was high: monthly issues of the journal, which were released in folio format, featured the steps needed at the given time of year for keeping various fruits, vegetables and flowers in a thriving state. Last but not least, the Florist and Pomologist also didn’t shy away from wading into contemporary discussions on the identification of specific hybrids and plant origins. Different botanical illustrators, some, like the famed Walter Hood Fitch and James Andrews, associated with the Kew Royal Botanic Gardens or the Royal Horticultural Society, contributed the artwork. The creator of the fig illustration featured at the top of this blog was James Laird MacFarlane, a Scottish-born illustrator who also gained some renown for his illustrations of orchids during the time of “orchidmania” in British popular culture of the late 19th century.

From The forme of cury, a roll of ancient English cookery, compiled, about A.D. 1390, by the master-cooks of King Richard II, presented afterwards to Queen Elizabeth, by Edward, lord Stafford, and now in the possession of Gustavus Brander, Esq, by Samuel Pegge, et al. 1780, Notable in this 14th century recipe collection are the instructions for  Fyge: “Take blanched almonds, grind them, mix with water and wine, quartered figs, whole raisins. Add in powdered ginger, clarified honey, boil it well and salt it, and serve.” Viewable at archive.org

Looking at  MacFarlane’s illustration of the luscious Royal Vineyard Fig, it’s easy to imagine that the artist was as smitten with this familiar fruit as he was with the exotic orchids of his day. Long a staple for all classes in Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cultures, figs were likely first introduced into English gardens in the 16th century. The Royal Vineyard Fig is itself a British hybrid, traced by the Florist and Pomologist to a  private  tree collection in the borough of Hammersmith, then a suburb of London. Oddly enough, figs are not actually the main ingredient in that much sung centerpiece of the Victorian Christmas dinner, the figgy pudding, which features mainly raisins and maybe plums, but rarely figs. A case of false advertising? Not really. Figgy pudding’s likely precursors can be found in medieval versions of various, both sweet and savory puddings, which did in fact tap into the complex sweetness of figs for their texture and toothsomeness. And then of course, figs have always been the feature element in a classic American confection, the Fig Newton — invented in Philadelphia by a fig lover (Charles Roser), first mass-produced in Cambridgeport, Massachusetts (yes, that is near Newton, MA) in 1891, and still going strong as a parent-favored, fiber-and potassium-providing snack for kids and the young at heart across the United States. No doubt then, the fig has had a long and storied  presence in global culinary culture, not to mention religious symbolism (e.g. the fig leaf for Adam and Eve!). As the writers behind the Florist and Pomologist hoped to persuade, it’s an easy and quite lovely item to keep in our home gardens too. 

For an online browse of the 1871 issue of The Florist and Pomologist and its account of the Royal Vineyard Fig, see bit.ly/3pNHlt1

Sources: 

Encyclopedia Britannica:  https://academic.eb.com/levels/collegiate/article/fig/34227

Nissen, Claus, Die Botanische Buchillustration: Geschichte und Bibliographie. Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann, 1966

Tannahill, Reay. Food in History. 1st pbk. ed. New York: Crown Trade Paperbacks, 1988.

https://www.thespruceeats.com/history-of-figs-1807598

https://somersetandwood.com/collections/themed-collections/botanical-illustrations-j-l-macfarlane-frhs-1836-c-1913

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/brief-history-figgy-pudding-180957600/

https://www.history.com/news/the-holiday-history-of-christmas-pudding