The artist Kelly Akashi clearly misses her neighbours in Altadena, a suburb of Los Angeles that was devastated by the Eaton wildfire last year. “That wasn’t there a week ago,” the artist said while visiting the site of her former house this past weekend, looking to the adjoining lot where the wooden frame of a new house rises from the rubble. While much of the area is still flat—earth, shrubbery and concrete foundations of the homes that once were—there are now signs of rebuilding on every block. A house on the other side of the frame Akashi pointed to has already been rebuilt, and the neighbours will soon be moving back in.
Akashi was there for Field Set, an installation and performance she created in collaboration with local musicians—and the backing of the nonprofit Los Angeles Nomadic Division (Land)—on the lot where her house and studio once stood. Saturday afternoon’s visitors, some of whom had lost their own homes in the blaze, arrived by the dozens. Roughly 500 people attended the first day of the two-day installation.
When Akashi was finally able to return to her property last year, a brick chimney was the only structure left standing. Her house and studio were gone, as was most of the art she had been working on. She managed to rescue bits and pieces that she integrated into her show at Lisson Gallery in February 2025, which she rushed to complete to coincide with Frieze Los Angeles. But more recently, she thought the chimney might need to be knocked down for structural reasons; she talked to Laura Hyatt, the director of Land, about doing a project before that happened.
One of Akashi’s hand-blown glass orbs Photo: Star Montana, courtesy of Los Angeles Nomadic Division
For Field Set, Akashi rearranged what she had salvaged—blackened branches lean against rusted metal beams, set up in a mound towards the back of the property—alongside her own strategically placed hand-blown glass orbs and vases. With help from friends, she replanted the front yard with a mix of wildflowers such as poppies, alyssum and Queen Anne’s lace.
“I thought it was a way to isolate and bring attention to individual plants,” she said, “but also to bring people’s attention to the garden in general. I find it to be a little magical to see them.”
This newest work resonates with the rest of Akashi’s oeuvre, which often integrates the natural with the handmade and evokes the themes of evanescence and the fragility of life. “I would love to rebuild right now,” Akashi said of her house and studio, “but we’ve got to do all this testing first.” She added that she may even be able to salvage the chimney.
Akashi has been on a tear through the art world recently, from her lauded show at Lisson to two major commissions in New York. She was awarded the Hyundai Terrace Commission as part of the 2026 Whitney Biennial, and she will create a major piece for a new terminal at John F. Kennedy International Airport. Akashi’s work for the Whitney, Monument (Altadena), is a glass replica of her chimney in California. Her performance over the weekend with Land felt like a continuation of that piece.
“We like to work with projects that are site-specific and have a kind of timeliness,” said Hyatt, who has known Akashi for years. “She’s really taken incredible care of the grounds itself since the fires, as she’s navigating the rebuilding process. We were here gardening one day, when she started speaking about this idea of having some kind of intervention to invite the public to.”
The composer Celia Hollander performs Photo: Star Montana, courtesy of Los Angeles Nomadic Division
In the background, we could hear the sound of earth being moved and trucks rumbling—recordings made by the artist Phil Peters over several months and edited into a three-hour segment, piped over subwoofers he had built and set up on the cement slab that once held Akashi’s house.
The soundscape set the tone for visitors wandering through, until a concert began at 5:45pm on Saturday. The composer Celia Hollander stood up behind her electronic keyboard and began to play. Silence fell as a crowd of about 150 people stopped to listen. The music had sombre moments but ended with some lighter, even bouncy, notes. Hollander had lost her home in the fire too. She met with Akashi before the weekend’s events, and they talked of living in close-knit Altadena but not about any requirements for the performance itself.
Hollander closed by acknowledging the almost joyful moments that ended her composition. “People are building, plants are growing,” she said. “It’s time to celebrate community.”
