Fans of the flower – known as Putricia – say they are ‘obsessed’ with the plant, although they have ‘never smelt that before’
In Sydney, word is spreading: a rare endangered plant named after a deformed penis is beginning to unfurl.
Outside Sydney’s Royal Botanic Garden greenhouse on Thursday, a diverse crowd of hundreds has formed. International tourists wait expectantly by families and young, trendy couples. Babies are everywhere.
They’re all here to see – and smell – a corpse flower, the first of its kind to bloom in the Royal Botanic Garden in 15 years. When they do blossom, they last just a few days, and emit a terrible smell. To the scientific community, the corpse flower is known as Amorphophallus titanum, which translates to large, deformed penis. But online, this flower has taken on a new name: Putricia.
A food truck sells gelato and cold beverages, while beaming volunteers work their way down the line, handing out flyers and asking fans if they’ve been watching the livestream which has won an avid fanbase.
Sally Crocker waits in the queue with her son Jackson. This is already their second visit of the day.
“We’ve been watching the livestream since Friday,” she says. “We were having lunch at Circular Quay and were like – ‘Oh my god, she’s opening, let’s go back’.
“She’s really brought people together in an amazing way. We want to smell it and say, ‘yep, we’ve smelt that in our life’.”
Every few minutes, 25 people are let in to have their allocated time with Putricia. The greenhouse will remain open until midnight, when, like a fine wine, the pungent scent of the corpse flower is expected to strengthen.
The entrance to the greenhouse is at once regal and understated, with a medieval-styled sign reading simply: “Putricia The Corpse Flower.”
Once indoors, fans are greeted to the soft sound of classical music, a red carpet and velvet rope. Putricia stands tall and proud, a goddess unfurling in front of a pale purple curtain like a botanical ode to David Lynch. Little puffs of mist emanate from underneath her – designed to replicate the humidity of western Sumatra.
Blooming corpse flowers have been likened to the smell of a “rotting corpse”. Despite that, all that wafts through the room is the smell of sweat, pungent after the crowd has queued in the humidity for 40 minutes.
“I want to smell it so badly,” a woman tells her friend, peering at the flower’s phallic tip. “It’s enormous though.”
Putricia’s livestream, which is being viewed by thousands of people 24/7, continues to broadcast, to the delight of attendees.
“Oh my god, he can see us,” Lee, who has snuck off from work to see Putricia, cries out to his friend. “Damien!”
Lee has already seen Putricia once, and describes her as “just stunning”.
“I love her … and she’s a deformed penis as well, which I love,” he says. “She’s living the best life – dying in 24 hours, what a dream. Life is hard enough.
“I feel like they need to have a rotting corpse outside though so there’s something I can compare it to, because I’ve never smelt that before.”
His friend, Claire, says in 15 years, she will tell her newborn Jack: “I took you to Putricia, and you didn’t remember it.”
“We’re obsessed with her, she’s the Queen of Sydney at the moment,” she says, adding that she found out about her on TikTok.
Chief scientist at the Royal Botanic Garden, Prof Brett Summerell, has seen a corpse flower bloom five times in his 35 years on the job.
“Something that occurs this rarely is always a special occasion,” he says. “It’s spectacular, it’s unique … if you see the size of the flowering structure – it’s a huge investment of energy and resources that the plant is putting in.
“They’re very sparsely populated [in Sumatra] and getting more so; they put a lot of energy into generating the aroma so it tracks insects from literally kilometres away.”
Summerell says when she fully unfurls, Putricia will smell like a “dead possum in the roof”.
“You come out and everything stinks,” he says. “I’ve heard stories of people if they’re very sensitive gagging … it’s never affected me that badly, but each to their own.”
After a few days, the flower structure will shrivel and collapse. Eventually a new single leaf will be produced but it may be years before Putricia has the energy to flower again.
As the crowd shuffles out, two girls chatter excitedly, buoyed by their experience.
“I’ve never felt so much affinity for a plant,” one muses. “I feel like she’s a person – a sassy queen.”
“I love her,” the other confirms. “I was watching her last night on YouTube. The fact she has a name, it’s given her a real personality.”
As crowds continue to form, another group rolls through. Putricia steadies herself, basking in her moment, finally in bloom.
