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The Monstera in the Dark
Monstera deliciosa climbing a wall in the Bolz Conservatory in Madison, WI.
I bought a Monstera plant for $20 in Home Depot the other day. The sturdy green plant is bound for my office, which has tall ceilings and space for it to grow. When I started reading about its basic care, I found an article about a Monstera selling for $40,000. In typical fashion, I’m late to the trend and missed out on this Covid era version of Tulipmania. If you’re not familiar, Tulipmania was a speculative bubble in 1637 during the Dutch Golden Age where investors went Bananas for different varieties of Tulips. Luckily, my plant was only $20, but I am determined to keep it alive because I cherish quiet coworkers.
To give this vigorous tree climber a good life, I spent an afternoon reading about the Monstera plant. This plant would look at home in the Addams Family Manor. The plant has prolifically spread from its home in Central and South America due to Victorian collectors adding to their “cabinet of curiosities” and childless millennials seeking their next “plant baby.” Somehow, this plant has become the patron saint of my generation. After all, even the $40,000 Monstera is cheaper than having children.
Keeping tropical plants alive in a cold Wisconsin climate is no easy task, so out of curiosity, I took a trip to the Botany Greenhouse on campus near my office. The greenhouse can be found at the end of a labyrinthian path through the basement of an aging sandstone building. Opening the doors you see a series of 8 narrow greenhouse rooms teeming with over a thousand different species of plants. It’s a veritable shop of horrors with its collection of carnivorous plants, corpse flowers, and scariest of all - earnest undergraduates. I looked over the Monstera plant and felt the hair on my neck rising, wondering if it was the plant that was watching me.
The name Monstera comes from the latin word monstrum, which translates easily to monster. This morbid name suits the plant with large skeletal leaves that climbs through jungle trees like a giant twisting centipede. It has monstrous qualities, but monsters are often remarkable. Medusa turned men to stone, Grendel terrorized Heorot Hall for 12 dedicated years, and Smaug held Erebor's wealth under his dominion. The Monstera plant also has many peculiar qualities including its ability to ascend trees using climbing roots, its adaptive leaves that have fenestrations allowing light to pass to lower branches, and it is filled with needle like crystals that embed themselves into anything foolish enough to take a bite from it.
I had a gnawing feeling that there were more secrets held by the plant that had crawled its way into so many of our homes. So, I reached out to my local botanic garden and met with Colten Blackburn who is the Glasshouse Curator for the Bolz Conservatory, which sounds like a job for a Victorian ghost, but he was instead a lively and welcoming guide. Together we walked through one of my favorite haunts in the city where he graciously offered to unveil some of Monstera's secrets.
Colten Blackburn at the Bolz Conservatory
Colten has worked for the conservatory for over 8 years, but he explained to me that the Monstera plant they grow predates the building of the conservatory and is from the original collection in 1990. It is seen scaling a rock wall near the waterfall, where it needs to be cut back frequently to allow other plants room to grow. Colten surprised me when he said Monstera fruit, “tastes like a cross between pineapple and banana, although it's often compared to fruit salad, and if you ever get the chance to try some make sure it’s well ripened. Being an aroid, it has calcium oxalate crystals (even in the fruit) until fully ripened.”
Of all the interesting things about this plant I am most fascinated by one morbid quirk. Monstera seedlings seek darkness. Most other plants will grow towards the light to maximize their sun exposure, but the Monstera will grow first towards the dark to find a tree trunk and will then start to climb its way towards the light. “The wild adaptations of plants never cease to surprise and amaze. It is a gamble and must not pay off every time, but if there’s one thing these plants are extremely good at, it's growing up and they’ll need something sturdy,” said Colten in reference to the Monstera we stood under.
A canary enjoying a snack near the Monstera in the Bolz Conservatory.
One thing that Colten said really stuck in my head that night about how the Monstera plant takes a gamble to climb to greater heights. Competition in a tropical climate is fierce, and it is born into a world where it has to take a risk to succeed. In a similar way, we are born in a world of competition and must find giants shoulders to stand upon. I realized that the only logical explanation for my equal success would be to grow towards the darkness to succeed. I needed to take a gamble.
Unfortunately, the last time I was at a casino was with my friend in Boston, and I lost all my money. When I say “all my money” I mean the $60 I allowed myself to withdraw before going in. It was hastily devoured by the ravenous slot machines. In general, I’m a risk averse and thrifty gardener, especially when it comes to the paltry amount I’ve earned through painstaking desk work.
Despite my inner risk analyst telling me to avoid losing money at all costs, I decided to take a gamble in honor of the Monstera, who starts its life with an unorthodox roll of the dice by growing towards the dark instead of the light. It knows that greater heights await those who risk it all.
Therefore, I decided to buy a whopping $20 scratch off ticket. Perhaps a win here would change my perspective and make me embrace more risk in my life, or cement my opinion that the “luck” of the Irish is a curse not easily broken. I pulled out a quarter and scratched off the bright green card promising a potential win of $2,000 up to 25 times!
Unfortunately, my lifelong unlucky streak did not end with this scratch-off. It would have made for a good ending. Instead, I’ll be working for many more years. Slowly becoming a relic of the office in the company of my Monstera.
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Weekend Almanac
Don’t buy a scratch-off: I’m never going to financially recover from this newsletter issue.
Plant Garlic: Now through Mid October is the sweet spot for planting Garlic cloves. This allows them to establish roots before the first frost.
Divide Perennials: If you have overgrown perennials, now is a good time to split them and move them around your garden. Don’t you ever wonder how that neighbor got their 6000 Hostas?
Plotter’s Commons:
Do you grow a Monstera in your house or office? Send me a picture, I’d love to see it.
For next week, I am looking for any Hazelnut recipes you want to share with our community or pictures of Hazelnut food you’ve baked.
Just respond to this email to answer the question or be featured in next weeks newsletter!
Community Board
Learn: Best Monstera & Growing Them Big! - This is a great introduction into how to grow a Monstera plant in your home or office! After all the research on this plant, I am excited to grow them.
Event 1: Olbrich Gardens, GLEAM is still happening at Olbrich gardens in Madison and begins the journey with a walk through the Bolz conservatory, which was featured in the main article. They did amazing work to bring the conservatory to life at night.
Event 2: Morton Arboretum, Fall Color Festival is featuring the Celebración de los Árboles, which fills the Morton Arboretum with the music, food and dance of Latin America this weekend.
Written for 112 beautiful readers. 💌
A special thank you to Colten for giving me a tour of the conservatory and answering my questions about Monstera!
Forward this newsletter to a friend. It’s the best way for this community to grow.
Until next Thursday,
Ken Welch
Ken Welch is a horticulturist and research professional at UW–Madison. He’s drawn to native ecosystems, community gardens, and helping others grow confidence in their craft.
