Little known in the Pacific Northwest, the liriodendron tulipifera is a deciduous giant that casts its shade in the summer, dazzles with bright autumn foliage, then sheds its leaves to be a statuesque silhouette in winter. Mature liriodendron tulipifera trees are commonly well over 90 feet tall with a spread of half to two-thirds the height and can live for half a century.
Liriodendron tulipifera.
If you pronounced the name correctly, you’re either a seasoned horticulturist or a linguistic genius. It’s a mouthful. But history and cultures are rife with names that initially flummox, carried by people who become so formidable or influential that the names roll off the tongue commonly and with ease: Muhammad Ali, Amelia Earhart, Mohandas Gandhi, to mention three. So, try it again: liriodendron tulipifera.
You’re now introduced to a magnificent tree, little known in the Pacific Northwest. From Wisconsin to the East Coast, all the way down to Florida and Mississippi, this native deciduous giant casts its shade in summer, dazzles with bright autumn foliage, then sheds its leaves to be a statuesque silhouette in winter. Planted on the south side of a house and properly distanced, it cools in summer, then defoliates to let warming winter light stream in. Add to that, with its sturdy trunk and robust limb pattern, it’s just plain handsome.
A choice landscape tree for a generous space, Thomas Jefferson used it to frame Monticello, as did Vanderbilt at his historic estate, Biltmore, in Ashville, N.C. Jefferson so loved the tree that in 1805 he sent seeds to a Parisian friend, Madame de Tesse. Known as the Virginia tulip tree, it was introduced into French horticulture in the early-18th century. In her garden at Trianon, on the grounds of the palace of Versailles, it was said to be Marie Antoinette’s favorite tree.
Mature trees are commonly well over 90 feet tall with a spread of half to two-thirds the height and can live for half a century. The glossy green leaves are 3 to 8 inches long and wide, much like maple leaves, but lobed, not sharply pointed. They are sometimes described as lyre-shaped, although that seems to be a poetic stretch.
In late June or July, the tree blooms. The fragrant flowers are tulip shaped, yellow, orange and green, 2 to 3 inches high and wide. Hence, one of the trees two common names: tulip tree (explaining its species name) and yellow poplar (so named for its fall color). Neither moniker is particularly accurate. This noble tree deserves to have its botanical name spoken with grandiloquence: liriodendron tulipifera.
There are two cultivated varieties of this plant worth noting. Liriodendron tulipifera “Aureo-Marginatum” has striking leaves with wide yellow, greenish-yellow margined leaves; L.t. “Fastigiatum” has a columnar form, reminiscent of Lombardy poplar.
Perfectly at home in our moist, mild climate, this tree thrives in our acid soil, our gentle winters and cool summers. Thanks to our ample precipitation, the one thing that can do it in, drought, is not a problem here. Once planted and watered through the first three summers, liriodendron tulipifera needs little or nothing after that, which nature doesn’t provide. It has proven to be disease resistant.
Blessed with a benevolent climate and pioneering curiosity and spunk, early Pacific Northwest gardeners introduced non-native species with zeal. Many appeared in our urban canopy. Madison Park has a plethora of mature exotics to boast. When it comes to that well-deserved pride, liriodendron tulipifera takes the trophy. Standing before a brick house on the east side of McGilvra Boulevard, just south of the turn where 39th Avenue East dips down toward Lake Washington, you’ll see one of the grandest of this genus and species anywhere.
This tree is said to have been the first liriodendron tulipifera west of the Rockies. Specified in the original garden design by the famous Olmsted firm of Massachusetts, it came from Maryland, as a mature young tree, on a flatbed rail car in the 1930s. Successfully planted, it has beautified our neighborhood since. It’s worth a pilgrimage to see it. Take your children with you and teach them the botanical name. They’ll get it quicker than you did.
Well, there it is. A perfect addition to a spacious urban lot: liriodendron tulipifera. A historic tree with which to introduce neighbors and children to the wonders of nature and horticulture: liriodendron tulipifera. Perhaps you’d like to be known to have the style (but certainly not the fate) of Marie Antionette: liriodendron tulipifera. A tree of which you can master the name, sliding it off your tongue with confidence, impressing all who hear you, allowing them to leap to the conclusion that you are as brilliant as you are well educated.
Lear-ee-o-den-dron too-lip-if-er-a…
You’re gettin’ it!