First of all, I am grateful for the elegant and evocative images by artist Sumié Hasegawa, which made me realize that actually seeing all the plants was not only enormously helpful, it didn’t exist anywhere. I’m thankful for her curiosity, which grew into obsession [I get that!]; her helpful husband, Fred Collins, who started her down the garden path; and their trust in me to create a trellis, if you will, for these plants to thrive; and to our mutual friend David Tabatsky, whose brainstorm brought us together. I’m always grateful for Stacy Prince, here in particular for her editorial insight and for connecting me with my smart and patient agent, Coleen O’Shea, and thence my enthusiastic and understanding editor extraordinaire, Becca Hunt.
I’m in awe of those who tirelessly burrow down tunnels of research, often without appreciation, for folks like me to pick up kernels here and there, so I’d like to throw some shine on Jane Lawson, whose decades of work on Queen Elizabeth’s Gift Rolls added delightful color and texture here; Ros Barber for generously sharing her prepublication insights on Honey-stalks and Warwickshire dialect; Eddi Jolly’s deep dive into Hamlet; logophilic author Howard Richler; Michael Marcus, who located the perfect quote; Julia Cleave’s rose insights; Dorna Bewley’s willingness to wade into the weeds with me; Dr. Bríd McGrath for just about anything; and the many garden conversations I had with the late Dr. John Rollett.
Research institutions are made up of remarkable individuals; I am honored to have occasion to be in their debt: Librarian Simon Blundell at the Reform Club; Dr. Mark Spencer at London’s Natural History Museum; the accommodating staff at the Linnean Society of London; Ortrun Peyn at London’s Society of Antiquaries; Jennifer Lee at Columbia University’s Butler Library; Wallace et al. in Rare Books at the British Library; and all the wonderful folk at the Folger Shakespeare Library, especially Owen Williams, Betsy Walsh, Camille Seerattan, Alan Katz, and garden docent Marya Fitzgerald—who probably aren’t even aware of what their contributions seed.
My fantastic team: Bronwyn Berry, Megan Cooper, Morgan Millogo, for helping me keep track of a million minute details, plus making a floor-to-ceiling floral mosaic of the office. For their generosity of time, materials, and expertise, my many thanks to Andrew French, David Cole Wheeler, Neil Martin; weedy exchanges with Jan Cole, and especially Rebecca Webb Serou, who apparently stays up as late as I do.
Finally, with a hat-tip to Proust, to the “charming gardeners who make our souls blossom,” mine anyway [which includes many of the above] Marty Ittner and Keith Berner, Lisa Alberti, Brandon Judell, Patsy & Co., Peter Judd, Theodore Melendez, Kate Konigisor and Katrina Ferguson, Nancy and Simon Jones, and Gail Colson, Shari Hoffman, Sherry Anderson, John Augustine and Christopher Durang.
And, unexpectedly, to the 2015 Spenser Conference in Ireland, where, tramping through pastures to find Edmund Spenser’s rubble heap of a castle, I suddenly noticed the fields were full of the very plants on these pages! Including stinging nettles. The delightful pain of research offered the experience of time travel.
— Gerit Quealy
My initial dream was to paint the entire collection of Shakespeare’s botanicals. I would like to acknowledge the Bond Street Theatre Coalition’s theatrical productions as my initial inspiration. I am very grateful to my college friend Uchida Shinji for his enthusiasm and technical help. A big hug to Simon O’Leary for providing shelter on my many trips to London. With the help of my husband, Fred, who thought of the title for this book, and our friend and colleague David Tabatsky, who moved this forward and led us to Gerit Quealy, Coleen O’Shea, and HarperCollins, I have finally been able to see it happen. I am very grateful to each of them for helping me get here. I hope you will enjoy viewing the art in this book as much as I enjoyed creating it.
Domo arigato gozaimashita,
— Sumié Hasegawa-Collins