Japanese agrobiodiversity art

Adam at Mutantfrog Travelogue, which seems to be a blog about things Japanese, has a post about a craft called Mizuhiki (水引). This involves the decorative use of twine made from a special kind of traditionally-produced paper called Washi or Wagami (和紙). Washi is made from all kinds of different agrobiodiversity:

Washi is commonly made using fibers from the bark of the gampi tree, the mitsumata shrub (Edgeworthia papyrifera), or the paper mulberry, but also can be made using bamboo, hemp, rice, and wheat.

That “gampi tree” gave me a bit of trouble, but I finally ran it to ground. It seems to be Wikstroemia sikokiana in the Thymelaeaceae. The paper looks beautiful. Anyway, in researching all this I came across a little gem:

In 1869 the then Prime Minister, William Gladstone, requested a report on Japanese paper and papermaking from the British Embassy in Japan. A thorough investigation was carried out by Sir Harry Parkes and his team of consular staff in different Japanese towns, resulting in the publication of a government report, “Reports on the manufacture of paper in Japan“, and the formation of a collection of 400+ sheets of handmade paper. The main parts of this collection are now housed in the Paper Conservation Laboratory of the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the Economic Botany Collection of the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew. In 1879 Kew sent duplicate samples to Glasgow, Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide, but these have been lost. The Parkes paper collection is important because the origin, price, manufacturing method and function of each paper was precisely documented.

Something to check out the next time I’m in London.

Fire and crop wild relatives

As wildfires rage across much of southern Europe, causing death and destruction, it’s sometimes difficult to remember — and perhaps insensitive to mention — that this is in fact a common occurrence, even necessary for the maintenance of vegetation and biodiversity in the Mediterranean.

In the Mediterranean, as in the mediterraneoids, fire occurs where vegetation is flammable. Combustibility is not a misfortune but an adaptation: plants that burn do so because they are fire-adapted. They make fire-promoting resins and other chemicals, or they have structural adaptations, such as producing a loose, airy litter of dead leaves and twigs which dries out and burns. Their ecology involves catching fire from time to time and burning up competitors.

Still, one wonders whether this might be too much of a “good” thing, and whether we’re heading for even more with climate change. What will this mean for particular species, for example crop wild relatives? Do we know how many are fire-adapted? And do we know even for those that are so adapted whether beyond a certain frequency or intensity fire becomes a threat rather than a necessity?

A Svalbard for animals in the making?

I had somehow missed news earlier this year of a failed (just) attempt to clone the Pyrenean ibex. That’s an extinct subspecies of the Spanish ibex, Capra pyrenaica. I was belatedly alerted to it by a piece in LiveScience about “a new project to store tiny samples of tissue from endangered animals at New York’s natural history museum.”

With room for up to 1 million specimens, the AMNH’s frozen tissue lab currently stores frozen butterflies, frog toes, whale skin and alligator hides, among many other samples, in nitrogen-cooled vats. The collection is used today for conservation research — the genetic information gives clues to the breadth of the animals’ hunting grounds and breeding behaviors. In an agreement signed this month with the National Park Service, the museum will begin storing tissue samples of endangered animals living in the nation’s parks. The first samples — blood from a Channel Islands fox — should be delivered in August, museum officials said.

Maybe they should also include the caribou, “a species historically considered so numerous — and so distant from human activity — that most assumed it was beyond human ability to affect it.” But is perhaps in trouble now. Room for 1 million specimens might not be enough.