Asking a gardener to name their favorite plant is, as we’ve all heard before, like asking a parent to choose a favorite child. I’m lucky. I only have one kid, so that part is easy—she’s the best! But when it comes to my garden, I also have no trouble choosing a favorite. Hands down, it’s my Dutchman’s pipe vine.
Years ago, my husband built a pergola over our back patio, and I knew that I wanted to plant Dutchman’s pipe at its base. I had seen it in just a few gardens on my travels and had always been intrigued by its woody vines and absolutely huge, heart-shaped leaves. It took some searching, but we finally found a pot of it for sale at a wholesale nursery nearby. Back then, I had connections and managed to add it to a friend’s order. We planted it, and for the next few years we watched it flourish, forming a roof of green leaves that almost completely blocked the sun and even a light rain.
When the pergola eventually rotted away, we had to rescue the vine. My husband got to work again, this time building a sturdy archway with a metal cradle to support the vines. What we didn’t realize was that this new structure would be even better for this amazing plant.
Now we can see it head-on, and it has become a spectacularly lush green tunnel that we walk through several times a day. It’s a true centerpiece. It billows in the wind. Its new tendrils reach for the sky like the arms of an octopus before gravity joins them to the others. Its leaves shed rain in silver droplets. Birds build nests under its thick canopy. Solar twinkle lights make it glow from within at night. It produces intriguing little flowers that, unfortunately, look a bit like dead slugs when they drop onto the flagstones, but I forgive that. That’s a small price to pay. In fall, long seed pods appear as the leaves turn golden yellow before drifting to the ground like pages from a book. And because they’re so big, they’re a snap to rake up.
Dutchman’s pipe (Aristolochia macrophylla, sometimes listed as A. durior) is a North American native vine that’s hardy in USDA Zones 4–8. It can take a little shade, asks for almost no coddling, and in my garden, at least, has been remarkably self-sufficient. I never water it. I’ve never fertilized it. It just grows. It’s also a host plant for the pipevine swallowtail butterfly. All of this makes me wonder: why aren’t more people growing it? I can only think of one reason someone would hesitate: all parts of the plant are toxic, so if you have a dog or a child that likes to eat random things in your garden, you might want to avoid it. But if you don't, you should be good. It’s much more well-behaved than wisteria. It doesn’t reseed like morning glories. It offers more shade than just about any vine you could grow. Its leaves drop in winter, but the woody vines remain, so the plant gets bigger, fuller, and more spectacular every year.
You should plant it!
By Michelle Gervais
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Michelle Gervais is a horticulturist from northwestern Connecticut by way of southwestern Virginia, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in horticulture from Virginia Tech. She spent 15 years traveling the country and learning from incredibly talented gardeners as a senior editor at Fine Gardening magazine, followed by a decade marketing flower bulbs and seeds for a trio of mail-order companies. She is the author of The Design-Your-Garden Toolkit (Storey Publishing) and currently serves as Public Programs & Outreach Manager at Innisfree Garden in Millbrook, New York—and is a huge fan of Womanswork.
