The Plant Press

From The Plant Press, Vol. 25, No. 2, April 2022.

How two key figures brought cherry trees to the U.S. 

By Julia Beros

As Spring begins to peak through the last dregs of winter and sweep away those straggler snowflakes, the delicate blossoms of cherry trees (Prunus × yedoensis) that cover the Washington D.C. area return to invite a rumination on life and the ephemeral while also recalling the origins of this celebration through a botanical and cultural lens. As many of the associated events with the National Cherry Blossom festival suggest, these diaphanous blooms are the signal of an ever-renewing friendship and cultural exchange between the United States and Japan, but are further imbued with a rich history of botanical exploration and inquisition that has roots with a young intern sent out to the Naples Zoological Station in Italy with support from the Smithsonian Institution in the late 1800s.

While Hanami, Sakura Matsuri, or Cherry Blossom Festivals are observed globally these days (with gifted plantings lining parks in major cities from Helsinki to Rome, New York, Macon, and Toronto) Washingtonians and tourists alike have been convening beneath the cherry blossoms here since the early 1900s to honor a Japanese tradition that goes back hundreds of years. After returning from a trip to Japan, travel writer, photographer, and notable member of the National Geographic Society Eliza Scidmore petitioned (persistently for 24 years) for plantings of Japanese cherry trees in the nation’s capital. Although the first batch of trees sent over was infamously burned due to a possible infestation of insects and nematodes (as the trees were choice specimens with long established roots and healthy buds that unfortunately housed long established pests), the following trees were carefully inspected and planted to line the Tidal Basin. While there is much discussion over the “semantics” of how these trees came-to-be and their symbolic designation, they are also an example of the horticultural ingenuity and curiosity of the times that fueled the general interest in expanding botanical horizons. The successful naturalization of these now iconic trees was facilitated by botanical explorer David Fairchild. 

As a young enterprising adventurer, Fairchild began his career on a Smithsonian Institution grant to a Naples Zoological Station. It was on this first voyage to Italy that he met Barbour Lathrop who took great interest in Fairchild and his potential in exploration, and subsequently underwrote and funded many of his future botanical trips. Acting as botanist, explorer, and occasionally spy, Fairchild is credited with introducing thousands of economically significant and (gastronomically appealing) crops that now seem commonplace: kale, avocados, quinoa, and mangos, as well as the occasionally less desirable plants that have been a bit too successful at outcompeting many native species, including kudzu. While his work was at times covert and others an act of diplomacy, he helped to create agricultural relationships that expanded the agro-economy of the U.S. and diversified the nutrition and palates of Americans. 

With his horticultural intel and seed introduction accolades in tow, Fairchild spent many years working for the U.S Department of Agriculture (USDA), and it was during this time he returned from a trip to Japan, still dazed as Scidmore had been by the beautiful cherry blossoms. He quickly learned that Scidmore had already been negotiating a way to bring cherry blossom plantings to the region, giving him the push to make it a reality. Strategically he arranged for a shipment of cherry trees to his home in Chevy Chase, Maryland, where he invited guests to enjoy displays of the lightly scented billowy-petaled flowers in his yard. His home, just off Jones Bridge Road, was known intimately as “In the Woods” where beyond various types of cherry trees, he cultivated unique and rare plants, which continue to grow to this day. 

With proof that these cherry trees were both viable and awe-inspiring (and Fairchild’s authority through affiliation with the USDA) Scidmore’s plan to bring the experience of Hanami to the U.S. would begin. Not long after in 1926, local developers Edgar Kennedy and Donald Chamberlain with help from Charles Jerman, made plans for a new residential neighborhood in Bethesda, Maryland on a plot of land they originally sought to turn into an amusement park. Struck by the quiet splendor of the cherry blossoms downtown they consulted Fairchild in bringing yoshino cherry trees to their new development. Yoshino cherries were grafted onto American stock that lined all the streets, both developed and yet undeveloped, and backed by rows of Norway maples to provide fall foliage colors and shade (most of which were later “sacrificed” to the beauty of the cherry trees). Within five years, 2,000 cherry trees lined the new Kenwood neighborhood, today a local Hanami attraction site with festivities and all. 

This centuries-old tradition rooted in Japanese political, religious, and social history now spans many continents and many iterations of celebration. With peak blooms trending notably earlier and earlier since the 1800s, researchers also look to this cultural phenomenon and seasonal event as an indicator of climate change. The transient nature of the explosive blooms of cherry blossoms, often peaking all at once and with such temporal fragility quickly fall to the earth and carpet the ground with their once showy plumage, paralleling the crowds of excitement who come to gather and celebrate, relax and enjoy food and company, and quickly disperse leaving only traces of their short-lived debauchery. Similar phenomena occur with magnolias and crab apple trees, whose bright petals and richly fragrant blossoms are an equally dazzling and fleeting display of the cycles of life. It’s a fascination not exclusive to flowers though, as “leaf-peeping” can elicit a similar craze among nature enthusiasts. Throughout North America leaf-peepers track the turning of the leaves to watch brilliant displays of fall foliage turn entire landscapes into a lush palate of yellow, orange, and red. Similarly in Japan and Finland, many prepare for and track the turning of the leaves for what is known as Momojigari, and Ruskaretki. In some ways these mass tree-viewing events reunite us with the seasons and remind us of the natural cycles we are constantly taking part in.

As for the two key figures in bringing the cherry trees to the U.S. Scidmore and Fairchild’s contributions can be found in many places. Scidmore herself often returned from trips with photographs and artifacts that she donated to the U.S. National Museum and developed relationships with many Smithsonian curators to support each other's work. Many of these artifacts are still held by the Smithsonian Institution. Likewise, pieces of Fairchild’s work, including travel journals, have remained in Smithsonian Institution archives and give further insight into his thoughts and travels. 

While both Scidmore and Fairchild produced work that has paved a legacy in agricultural advancements and cultural exchange, there remains a conflicting legacy as well in colonialism and often the exploitation of other cultures that was characteristic of exploration at the turn of the century. The endurance of the attempt to cultivate cross-cultural exchange and mutually beneficial relationships is perhaps the greatest outcome from the foundations of this work. Cultural and botanical exchange is not just a token display of friendship or intent at goodwill, but it invokes a deeper exploration into one another’s lives, and invites us to show respect and take the responsibility to learn more about each other and how we see and share the world. It invites us as well to return the exchange and keep the cycle going to return for a new season. Through an invitation to join in a tradition of reverence for nature and its relationship to our own cycles, the seasonal awakening of cherry blossoms reminds us to participate consciously in our world and find gratitude for the impermanent but returning grace of the Spring.