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History is recorded in the Southern California landscapes we occupy—not just deep in the earth’s geological layers, but in the native plants and organisms that persist here despite rapid development, changing climate, and the proliferation of invasive species. This history guides the diverse cultivation practices through which the artists featured in the third installment “L.A. Harvest” connect with the land around them. Legacy, tradition, and memory lead to innovation when spaces pass into the hands of people who step up to take good care.
Whether in a basement or backyard, these artists engage with various written and unwritten histories of the land through their experimental and learning-based practices. Growing up on a reservation, Emma Robbins spent significant time in nature. Today, her family’s budding backyard in the city is full of possibilities, especially as she experiences nature anew through the eyes of her young daughter. Meanwhile, below the concrete, Sam Shoemaker’s mycological lab hosts the modern descendants of the billion-year-old mushroom kingdom—some of them foraged from the streets of L.A. Paul Mpagi Sepuya maintains his backyard garden in tribute to the former owner of his home, and by transitioning the landscape to native plants, he also honors the Tongva land itself.
These artists create a conduit between the past and future by tending to new growth while honoring the knowledge, practices, and lives of those who came before them.
Emma Robbins
Tendrils of fragrant jasmine climb the back fence of Diné artist and activist Emma Robbins’ Echo Park home. Tall, grassy weeds erupt throughout the backyard, and edible nasturtiums flourish in abundance. Working on the home has been a significant undertaking, but an important way of grounding. Next, she plans to replace the existing plants with native grasses and wildflowers. Robbins, who grew up on the Navajo Nation reservation, is the first person in her family to own a home, and she grapples with what it means to raise her two-year-old daughter, Pinny, as an “urban native.” City living can be a harsh juxtaposition to the Navajo tendency to, as Robbins says, “go with the flow.” But Pinny—who is named for Piñon, an important plant for Navajos—reliably notices the garden’s changing features and makes them visible to Robbins for the first time. She watches birds and kisses flowers in their yard.
Sam Shoemaker
Sam Shoemaker’s “garden” flourishes underground. The basement of his studio contains both a sterile space that houses mushroom specimens inside glass jars, vials, and petri dishes, and a room with tents in which mature samples thrive at 92% humidity. Despite long-standing global practices of mushroom foraging and cultivation, the technology that enables him to nurture such diverse specimens in his lab is newer than we might think. Shoemaker’s experimental and intuitive mycological practice has illuminated a host of possibilities: He has worked with native, poisonous, bioluminescent, and edible species. In his lab now, rows of cream-colored mushrooms burst from within sweaty, substrate-filled plastic bags, and spiny samples germinate in petri dishes. Shoemaker is a member of the Los Angeles Mycological Society (LAMS) and says that their gatherings feel like history in the making, as the field is in a moment of rapid discovery.
Paul Mpagi Sepuya
On his Instagram account @misslottiesgarden, Paul Mpagi Sepuya shares regular updates on his garden. Superstition mallow, he writes, taught him patience; yarrow and bush sunflowers are “not the showiest, but they pull their weight.” Sepuya’s garden is dedicated to Lottie, who raised her family and eventually passed away in the West Adams home, where she had lived since the ’70s. The neighborhood has been home to generations of Black families from Louisiana who moved back and forth during the Great Migration. Lottie grew up in Louisiana not far from where Sepuya’s mother now resides —a connection that he believes led her family to accept his offer on the home. Establishing a garden of native plants has required experimentation: Now, seaside daisies thrive beside a laurel sumac shrub being pruned and shaped into a wide tree. By stewarding Lottie’s garden, Sepuya honors the land by honoring those who spent time with it before him.
This photo essay was originally published in Carla issue 32.