Art and science are inextricably linked.  Throughout history, scientists have used artwork to communicate and capture their scientific queries, methods and observations.  Examples of folks like Maria Sibylla Merian, who not only studied moths, butterflies and a host of insects but also created gorgeous and intricate artworks of her subjects.  

In modernity of the smartphone in almost every pocket and high-tech microscopes that capture images on our behalf, the art of botanical and scientific drawings is slowly fading into a thing of the past. 

Yet, even with new tech available the arts remain a powerful teaching tool to understand the biology of the world around us. The practice of observing and recording can become a way for learners of all abilities to meet at a singular point, regardless of “artistic affinity”, skill or level of practice.

A challenge I face often as a professor and outdoor educator, is the necessity to teach to a wide range of skill and understanding in a singular moment.  In almost every lecture or workshop I have taught, there will be at wildly different levels of technical understanding, various levels of English literacy and a range of learning styles. 

How can I reasonably teach a class on botany and plant identification, when I have one student who grew up on farm emersed in the world of agriculture and plants, one who knows that broccoli and cabbage are relatives, and one student who is surprised that sunflower seeds make sunflower plants?

For me, this is where art can function to bridge the gap.  For folks who are new to agriculture it is really quite difficult to tell Arugula from Dandelion, Statice from Purslane, or a Squash seedling from a Dog Strangling Vine seedling.  For many, all the plants look the same.  A phenomenon, a teacher of mine called the “wall of green”.  Meaning, that before a person knows plants intimately, they all look the same.  Plants, trees and the natural world is simply the green backdrop that exists at the edges of one’s life. 

The key to differentiation is all about the subtle differences and pattern recognition. In order to draw a plant, you do not need to know an apical bud from an axillary bud or a sepal from a bract. You do however, need to slow down and really observe the shape, lines and volume of form, looking deeply at the patterns that the plant presents; then translate that onto paper with careful attention. 

At first students are always hesitant, having been bought up with the myth that art always has the goal of being a “beautiful” work, or that it is only for those with “natural talent”. I find that after a little encouragement, most are willing to buy in when it’s presented as observation practice, rather than art practice. 

Together students of all ability have the opportunity to discover what this exact leaf looks like, not relying on memory, facts or scientific labels.  Does this leaf have a hole bitten out by a bug, what is the branching pattern of the stem, where does the leaf met the stem, how many petals does the plant have, what shape or colour are those petals, how does this leaf look different from other of the same species I have observed before?

Art encourages the free flow of observational questions, as one puzzles out how to communicate the 3D plant onto the 2D paper.  From a teaching perspective, the answers to these multitudes of questions are all critical clues that help to identify the scientific and botanical classification.

Art can also make the lesson FUN! The giggles and conversations that occur as folks work to convert observation into drawings and the sometimes-unexpected outcomes of unpracticed hand – eye coordination brings levity and lightness to botany lessons that have the potential to dry out and get caught in the nitty gritty too early in the learning process. 

I am continually in awe of the incredible details that folks are able to observe when they are given the opportunity to slow down, and observe the world around them.