Beautiful Mutants!

Last year I mutagenized large numbers of A.bulbifer seeds with EMS.  It was the right choice because seeds are cheap and abundant, the wrong choice because A. bulbifer does not reproduce sexually, so there is no chance of segregation resulting in homozygousity and related phenotypes in subsequent generations.

However, there always is the possibility that a dominant negative effect can occur.  In other words, a mutation that causes a change that results in an effect, even though it only affects one of two copies of the relevant gene. Long story.  They tell you about it in Advanced Genetics.

This plant is clearly showing a defect leading to a lack of pigmentation in some of the leaves.

A mutant shows a splotchy leaf pattern.

This is exciting because bulbifer makes bulbils, vegetative outgrowths at leaf margins.  If I can get this one big, fast, it might be possible to generate a bulbil that arises 100% from the mutant tissue.  We'll see how it goes!

Former Student Inspired to Sniff

After hearing me go on and on about the coolness of corpse flowers my former student Sasha Ricaurte (now a famous grad student at Michigan State) ventured out to see a blooming titanum in E. Lansing, MI.

To really learn plant biology, sometimes you have to get your nose in it.

I was a postdoc when I first met this creature and it only cultivated my interest in the weirdness of plant evolution, adaptation and ecology.  Cool that Sasha got to see (and smell) one first hand! 

#1 in 2011- Not a Konjac!

I must have a bad case of the vapors.  The lil' stinker opened and it is not A. konjac, it is A. bulbifer!

A. bulbifer, not A. konjac.  It still stinks.

While not the most malodorous of the bunch, it has flowered and I will attempt to pollinate it, even though it this one is allegedly triploid and produces seeds via apomixis. 

There are many more that look like flower points sticking out of the ground, so this will be a fun summer!

First of 2011

And the winner will be... Amorphophallus konjac!    This corm is about 0.5 kg and has produced an inflorescence.  It has been loosening gradually for a few days and should flower on Saturday, May 14th!

Poised to smell, A. konjac stands ready to flirt with reproduction.

With about 60 corms in the ground there should be a few flowers this year, unfortunately not A. titanum.  It is clearly going to be vegetative in 2011.  Stay tuned for more pics.

The First Pink Thing

This is actually about 1.5 cm wide-- maybe a flower? 

Amorpho-Mania 2011 is upon us and the first emergence is the growing tip of a 3-year old A. konjac.   This year's crop will be lots of fun.  Over 100 mutagenized A. bulbifers from 2010 will be back.  While unable to breed sexually, their bulbils may exhibit some genetic variation.  I will mutagenize 50 A. henryii and 50 A. paeonifolius this year too, so new variations may be upon us.

The challenge right now is the damn squirrels. They dig in the pots and uprooted some pseudodraconium plants. Solutions pending.

A. titanum to Bloom in Ohio

The Ohio State University in Columbus has a stinky bloom on the way!  Curator Joan Leonard has been growing a few of these plants since 2001 and this is the first to bloom.  Like most of us that raise A. titanum, the anticipation of the spring bloom from a dormant corm is usually met with disappointment.  The disappointment is easy to stomach, as a eight foot tall leaf is reasonably impressive.

But Leonard's careful husbandry has brought this monster to flowering.  A full bloom is anticipated in May.

The Ironic Corpse of the Corpse Flower

As noted previously, my Amorphophallus titanum has completed its annual vegetative cycle.  In a rush to beat the impending cold, the massive amounts of carbohydrates assimilated over the summer season retreated down the leaf and into the corm, the underground storehouse that harbors the plant's macromolecules until they are put into work again next spring.

The shriveled remains of the majestic plant, that one day will rise again.

It is really amazing to see the process unfold.  That single growing point on top of a bulb erupts into a column of tightly interlaced leaves and petiolules.  It expands to make the two meter tall plant (seen here on 7-20-2010, still expanding) then it takes the whole summer's work of photochemical work and shoves that fixed carbon underground.  

WHY???  The corpse flower is a shadow of her former self.

Like when the frogs stop chirping in the back yard, weird migratory birds gather on the feeder or nights that require a heater, the senescence of the Amoprhophallus titanum reminds us of seasonal flux.

For me, it brings great anticipation of exhuming the corm, prepping it for a long winter nap, then dreaming of the possibility that it just might flower next year.