Ralph Waldo Emerson once suggested that “a weed is not so much a plant in the wrong place as a “plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered.”1

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It is the humble weed that thrives in unlikely places. Roadsides, lawns, garden beds, in between the cracks on the pavement and running wild on the sides of railway tracks. To many, they are unwanted or an invasive pest – something to be disposed of. Often overlooked and considered unimportant. Yet it is the lowly weed that holds the most interest. The biology of botany has been a subject of intrigue for centuries – puzzling scholars, fascinating artists and providing healing to those who need it.

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Long before the modern pharmacist, apothecaries were the only people permitted to distribute and use plants for medicinal and healing purposes, yet they themselves were dependent on the village herb-women who collected and sold them. As a way of categorising and identifiying plants was not widely known at the time, they were often duped into buying similar species which had no medicinal value, yet were almost identical in appearance. With patients’ safety at risk, the apothecaries journeyed out into the countryside to gather and record information detailing the identification of plants in the surrounding areas, as a way to familiarise themselves with the region’s plant life.

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Holotypes are in themselves an art form. These physical botanical discoveries, pressed onto paper, recorded the first namings of such species. Specimens seemingly suspended in space, reminiscent of early botanical illustration, where special care had to be taken to ensure the plants were rendered as accurately as possible to ensure no mis-identification occurred. These works operate as a contemporay set of holotypes, accompanied by a field guide that further illuminates the properties of these sometimes overlooked plants.

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1 Richard Mabey, “The Lowly Weed Has Its Day.” Tate Etc., Summer 2011, 22.