We live in a historic house with a heritage garden. Oakfield is one of the oldest farmhouses in Mt Albert, alongside Alberton. It was initially built in 1855 as a two-bedroom cottage and, in the 1880s, was developed into a grander home. 

My in-laws, Brian and Lindsay Corban, bought it in 1978 as four rundown flats and spent the next 30 years lovingly renovating it. Ten years ago, we bought it from them and have endeavored to maintain the property and garden while adding our own mark.

My husband Ben spent much of his childhood helping his dad, Brian, with the renovation, scouring junkyards and second-hand shops across Auckland to find the mouldings, architraves, and doors that had been stripped in the 1960s. 

This garden has had many incarnations too. It’s been farmland tussock, then formal Victorian with a turning circle driveway. Brian planted many of the now-established trees in the early 1980s, including a specimen Gingko and Washingtonian Palms, which complement a couple of much older trees, including a significant Magnolia and Phoenix Palm, both around the same vintage as the house.

In the 1990s, thousands of bricks were laid to create paths that enhanced the symmetry throughout the property. Weekly gardeners were employed, and the garden became an oasis with potted citrus and perfect lawns. It's seen parties, weddings, brass bands, and labradors, and attracts wonderful birdlife along with plenty of other wildlife from around the neighbourhood! 

More recently, it starred in fashion shoots when I ran my clothing label. When we moved in, we began the weekly upkeep, ushering kids with leaf blowers and lawn mowers, with only the occasional much-needed professional groom. But my husband and I are now the official gardeners. Ben handles the regular clean-up, and my focus is on planning and planting the seasonal gardens, along with plenty of weeding. 

The whole garden is around 2000 sqm. There is a Kitchen Garden planted seasonally and a small Studio Garden with flowers that provide colour and texture. One of its defining characteristics is the established trees—en masse and at scale. Having a canopy of trees in an inner-city garden is a rarity, and it’s a legacy not only for our family but for the wider community as we see the loss of so much greenspace. 

We have four sheds, one of which is my studio. I’m an artist and a gardener. My garden and what I grow are a continuous source of inspiration, influenced by what I’m growing, harvesting, eating, and composting. I love the richness and beauty, regardless of the season. I’m amazed by new growth and equally by decay—those polarities I think about when making work.

I’m growing and making things, and then making paintings about those things. From seeds to paintings—germinating, harvesting, recording, and replanting. I see all of this as a continuum of making. Having said that, I wouldn’t characterise myself as a painter of gardens - but rather as a painter of parts of things - that become something else.