Over the past seven years, Rachel Sussman has travelled the planet photographing the world’s oldest continuously living organisms—some of them several hundred thousand years old. Rachel’s project has grown to become one of the most comprehensive documents of these organisms on record, offering a rare multi-disciplinary perspective of life on planet earth. We recently sat down with the TED Speaker to talk about deep time, our quest for immortality and what it’s like to travel halfway across the world for a shrub.
MYOO: You’ve spent the last seven years traveling the world to photograph these oldest living things. Can you tell us about your first visit to an ancient organism?
RACHEL: I think it was in 2004, and I went on a trip to Japan. I kept hearing about this supposedly 7,000-year-old tree on a remote island, and that if you were interested in nature, you had to go see this tree. I went to Kyoto and was visiting the temples, but there was also Starbucks and Kinko’s, and I felt a bit let down by the experience. I almost wanted to go home, which I never do. I had this feeling like, “Why am I here?” One of the Japanese phrases I know is “fundoshi o shimete,” which is a phrase that literally translates to “tighten your loincloth” and sort of means “buck up.” So I had a moment of “buck up!” and instead of turning back, I turned and went the other direction, toward the ancient tree. What ensued was one of the most rewarding travel experiences I’ve ever had.
“The tree itself is brimming with anthropomorphism: it looks as wise as its many years holding court on the top of a steep slope. It was quiet and venerable, and I couldn’t have been more richly rewarded for choosing to go on this little adventure.”
MYOO: Can you describe it?
RACHEL: I got on a train and went to the southern most part of Kyushu, where I got on a ferryboat to an island called Yakushima. The entire island of Yakushima is a UNESCO World Heritage site, with it’s wild rhododendrons, endemic deer and monkeys, and dense, subtropical rainforest. It was immediately clear I was in a pretty special place.
Jomon Sugi itself is deep into the interior of the island, and requires a two-day hike through the forest. The tree is called Jomon Sugi for the Jomon era, which would put it around 7,000 years ago, but I think it’s actually 2,180. The tree itself is brimming with anthropomorphism: it looks as wise as its many years, holding court on the top of a steep slope. It was quiet and venerable, and I couldn’t have been more richly rewarded for choosing to go on this little adventure.
MYOO: So this is when you had the “Aha!” moment to launch your project.
RACHEL: I didn’t get the idea right then. It was over a year later. I don’t know if you’ve read Steven Johnson’s book “Where Our Ideas Come From.” He gave a TED talk, which is where I became familiar with his work, and he talks about the slow churn of ideas. He used Darwin as an example, where, if you look back through Darwin’s notebooks, he had the idea of evolution long before it was in his consciousness. He had it for six months before he had the “light bulb” moment. Johnson refers to it as the slow churn, and I think that’s what was happening for me.
I had this moment of sitting in a restaurant with friends, telling them the story that I just told you, about visiting the tree, and then the idea came to me: why not seek these specimens out?
MYOO: Did any of your friends or family question your sanity when they discovered your plans to hunt down these organisms in the remote corners of the world?
RACHEL: Well, if anyone thought I was crazy they mostly kept it to themselves! That being said, I don’t think anyone knew – myself included – what I was getting into when I started this project in earnest 6 years ago. It has been in turns exhilarating, fascinating, and incredibly difficult. If anything, the excitement and support of those closest to me has been invaluable.
MYOO: Until your project, no previous list of these organisms existed. How did you begin to gather the data to build this living treasure map of ancient organisms?
RACHEL: It was a tremendous amount of research, which I love doing. If there was just a list somewhere and I was checking off the list, I don’t think I would have found it that compelling. But once I decided on the idea and did some poking around, I found that this hadn’t been done before in the arts, or in the sciences, which was baffling to me, because once I got the idea to photograph the oldest living things, it seemed obvious that people would want to know about this.
I literally started with Google searches, using superlatives like “longest living.” As I started searching, I was gathering more and more information, and knew how to get more specialized in my searches. So once I knew I was looking for the welwitschia, then I could look for peer-reviewed journals, and find out who was doing active research to send out an email. Nine times out of ten the scientists were so happy that someone outside of their discipline was interested in their work.
MYOO: What has the public reaction been to your project?
RACHEL: It’s been great. I think this captures the imaginations of people. Certainly there are a lot of misconceptions about how old things are, so there is that sort of, “Oh my goodness! I thought the oldest things were the giant sequoias.” But they’re actually one of the youngest things in my project.
Hopefully, the project can touch people in whatever way they’re open to. So some people really connect to protecting these things. But what protections are they pulling for then? And it varies from quite a lot to none at all. And for some people, I think they connect with the idea of deep time and putting it into perspective. I also think it ties into our human desire to attain immortality, which has been of interest to humanity since the dawn of time. How do we extend life? What does it mean, and what are its secrets?
MYOO: Speaking of secrets, aren’t some of these organisms growing in undisclosed locations?
RACHEL: Once you get into the clonal organisms, that are around the 10,000 year mark and older, a lot of these things are diminutive looking, and you’d walk past them and be none the wiser unless you had the information that it was that old. But the exact locations for certain organisms in my project are kept secret for their own protection.
“There’s definitely a sense of rooting for them—especially the scraggly things that you might say, “How is this thing even alive?”’
In the case of the most famous Bristlecone Pine, for instance, people started taking souvenirs of its bark, which of course was damaging. In the case of a newer discovery – the 9,550-year-old clonal Spruce in Sweden – the exact location was never released to the public as visitations en masse would certainly only do it harm. In these cases, I speak with the scientists doing active research, explaining the parameters of my work, and my personal mandate to do no harm. It’s my goal to draw attention to their existence and encourage protections for all of them – not to encourage people to visit them in the wild.
MYOO: When you travel halfway across the world to photograph these specimens, is it ever disappointing to see a regular-looking shrub in front of you?
RACHEL: It’s a different kind of connection. If you walk into the giant sequoia forest, you have an immediacy of the sheer size and grandeur of the trees. With organisms you wouldn’t know are that old— there’s something about their perseverance. Sometimes I’ll travel halfway around the world to find a shrub, but that’s fascinating. I’ve learned so much about them that I feel a connection to all of the organisms. There’s definitely a sense of rooting for them—especially the scraggly things that you might say, “How is this thing even alive?”
MYOO: How have they managed to stay alive?
RACHEL: This is the million-dollar question. I don’t have a scientific answer per se, but in Tasmania I’m going to visit a 43,000-year-old clonal shrub that is literally the only remaining species on earth. It can’t reproduce: it’s a male, and there’s no female. I guess you could clone it in some botanical gardens. You could absolutely say that it’s in danger of extinction. It’s hard not to anthropomorphize, and so you have to ask, “What is it about this individual that made it persevere?”
MYOO: Do you have any favorites from the collection?
RACHEL: I do. They’re my children. The llareta sort of became the poster child of the project. It’s the topiary on steroids. It’s so bizarre. That was just so much fun to find and photograph. My other favorite is “Pando.” It’s the nickname of the clonal colony of aspen trees. It’s at least 80,000 years old, and it could be much older. The thing about Pando that’s also fascinating is that it looks like a forest but it’s technically only one tree, because it’s one giant genetically identical interconnected root system. And the baobab tree in South Africa, the Sagole baobab is a favorite of mine also… And the welwitschia! See, I’ll just go on…
MYOO: Some of these organisms, like the shrub in Tasmania are the last of its kind, presumably because its species could not adapt to the demands of the world. But on the other hand, couldn’t you say that these specific organisms are also masters of survival?
RACHEL: Absolutely. The dichotomy is kind of mind-boggling.
MYOO: So after seven years in the company of these multi-thousand-year-old individuals, do you end up becoming a longevity snob? Like, “Oh, you’re 190? That’s no big deal.”
RACHEL: Yes, I do, actually. People will tell me all the time, “Oh, there’s this really old tree,” and it’ll be like 600 years old. And I think, “Nope! Not even close!”
Actually, It is funny. I just did an interview with someone from BBC and it was here in New York, and we went to visit the oldest tree in New York. It’s not even 400 years old. It’s 1600 years too young to meet the criteria of my project.
“I just had a little bit of food with me; I hadn’t brought supplies just in case. I was kicking myself for not giving my information to anyone.”
MYOO: Explain the 2000-year age cap you’ve put on the project.
RACHEL: I started this project with the idea of starting at year zero and working backwards from there, to really put it into human history. Why is it 2011 right now? What does that mean? One of the reasons I’ve been so compelled by these organisms – and motivated to do this work – is precisely because I want to expose our usually limited sense of time to a larger timescale. It’s so easy to get caught up in the quotidian that we completely forget that we’re part of an inconceivably deep continuum. In fact, human neuroanatomy makes it physiologically difficult for us to grasp time frames that are so far removed from the human physical experience. By making portraits of these organisms, if you will, I’m trying to create a means for a more personal connection to the individuals themselves, and the long-term thinking inherent to that deeper timescale.
MYOO: Have there been any surprises?
RACHEL: There are a lot of things you can’t be prepared for. Going to Namibia, for instance, I was surprised by how much I love the desert. Another place I was really struck by the landscape was in the Atacama Desert in Chile. It’s an incredibly beautiful place where there is no recorded rainfall. I was there to photograph the llaretta plant, which is very strange looking and actually related to parsley. Driving through the absolute desert at 15,000 feet elevation to find this magical plant, it was my second day at the altitude, and I was feeling dizzy. And then to find the plant, which is so old. It was a magical trip in general. Of course, the biggest surprise was getting lost in Greenland.
MYOO: What happened in Greenland?
RACHEL: It was one of the moments where I was kicking myself for not being better prepared. I was supposed to be meeting a team of archaeologists who were fully stocked with supplies and food, but they had sent a message back to where I was staying in town, which was about an hour away via boat. They sent a message using their satellite phone that they use once a day. They were supposed to pick me up, and they left a message saying, “The boat is broken, but you should come anyway.” The only information I had was the name of an inlet, and to look for a yellow house. I found a local to take me there, and it was like “this is it!” The house was in the right place. But there was nobody there. I just had a little bit of food with me; I hadn’t brought supplies just in case. I was kicking myself for not giving my information to anyone.
MYOO: Yikes.
RACHEL: It all turned out OK and we connected in the same day, but it was a really important lesson. It’s one thing to wing it, and it’s fun to have an exploratory spirit and see what happens, but sometimes that is not smart.
MYOO: Just to get philosophical for a moment, has this project changed your perspective on your own life, and human lifespan?
RACHEL:I’d say yes. I definitely think about time a lot more. It’s now roughly seven years I’ve been working on the project, and to think about seven years compared to the lives that I’m researching and photographing, is really nothing. When I photograph these individuals, I ask myself what it means for a 36-year-old organism such as myself to be making a portrait of, say, a 13,000-year-old organism. Just to be able to be there, and to make photographs of these organisms, and to draw attention to them feels like the right tension of time in that split second. That one-sixtieth of a second click of a shutter to capture this multi-millennial life. I’m definitely struck by that, and hit with that feeling of awe more than once.
MYOO: So many of the organisms you capture seem to live in extreme and aggressive environments that us humans have a tough time surviving in. How have they managed to thrive?
RACHEL: One of the things that have been the most fascinating to me in compiling lists of this group of organisms is to look at similarities. Like you just said, who would have thought that so many of these organisms live in deserts? Or high altitudes? Or low temperatures, or have limited nutrients. That’s fascinating to look at, and is one of the primary things that I hope scientists will take over with the completion of the project.
MYOO: You’ve mentioned climate change and oil spills as environmental threats to these organisms. Given the fact that they’ve managed to survive thousands of year already, why do you think they might be in any more danger now?
RACHEL: Personally, I think there are graver threats now than have been years past. One of the things I photographed, the underground forest in South Africa is one of the things destroyed this year. Another good example of that is the Siberian actinobacteria, which is the oldest known thing on the planet. It’s between 400,000 and 600,000 years old, which is just mind-boggling. I mean, physiologically it’s hard for humans to process what that number is, it’s that old. It lives in the permafrost, which it’s starting to melt all over the world. That is not normal within the temperature fluctuation cycles in this era that we’re in. I think that’s a very direct link to human activity. How can you adapt to that? It lives below freezing, and if it’s no longer below freezing, it’s going to die. There’s a limit to how different organisms can adapt.
Did you see my photograph of the spruce tree? The shrub with the spindly stalk? That spindly growth in the center is actually a picture of climate change, because it lives on this plateau where the vegetation zone has changed because it’s gotten warmer. Over the past forty years it was able to grow taller and taller, whereas before that, it was capped off because of the temperature.
“I think it’s the job of artists to draw connections where they previously didn’t exist, and to ask questions.”
MYOO: So couldn’t one make the argument that it’s simply adapting?
RACHEL: What does it mean to have this tree that has been living there for 9,550 years suddenly grow fifteen feet in the last forty years? What does this mean? I don’t know. The one thing I can say is that when we look at the similarities between the long-lived organisms, they’re all growing pretty slowly. So, it doesn’t seem like a good sign.
MYOO: We’ve been talking a lot about the science that has gone into this project and there seems to be a lot of crossover. Why do you predominantly view this as an art project rather than scientific research?
RACHEL: It’s a good question. There’s a reason why this work has never been done in the sciences. Not because it’s not valuable, but because it’s outside of the way science is done. In a way I’m in a sort of no-man’s land because I’m not doing a traditional art practice or a traditional science practice. It is pretty easy to get dazzled by the science—and it is dazzling—but I’m interested in the place where the empirical meets the intuitive. My creative process is a continuum of choices leading up to—and including—the click of the shutter moment. I make innumerable decisions about framing, what to leave out, what to expose, all the while creating a record not only of the organisms, but also my interaction with them. I think it’s the job of artists to draw connections where they previously didn’t exist, and to ask questions.
In terms of doing this project, I had a hunch this was important enough that I should put everything into it. Not knowing how it would turn out, I had a sense that this is the right way to blend art and science because they are equals in this project. It ends up with something greater than the sum of its parts. The art and science together brings out a philosophical discourse that gets everybody thinking in every direction.
MYOO: So what’s on the horizon now?
RACHEL: I really am in the home stretch. This project has been my life for so many years, and I’ve left some of the best travel for last. Up next is Sri Lanka for the oldest known cultivated tree; the oldest historically recorded planting of a tree, which is a Banyan fig.
I also have two really big adventures planned, in Tasmania and Australia. In Tasmania, there’s the 43,000 year-old shrub, the only of its kind. And that’s in a very remote place, so that’ll require chartering a little plane and I’ll have to go with the research scientists. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing that shrub. Likewise, getting down to Antarctica to find the 5,500-year-old moss, which is equally stunning in age as in physical presence.
MYOO: Nice. We really encourage our readers to get out, and take leaps of their own. Your project seems to have sprung from an experience just like that. Do you have any advice for others interested in starting their own projects?
RACHEL: I definitely believe in following your interests, even though you might not know where they’re going to lead. To just stick with it, to continue looking. To be inquisitive and follow those threads of interest, because you never know where they’re going to intersect. There have been a lot of times where I’ve set wheels in motion for things where I’m not sure I’m not sure I’m up to it. Pretty much every time I’ve done that, I’ve been able to follow through. If I sat down with somebody seven years ago and they said, “Here’s all the things you need to do to do this work,” I would have said “I don’t know. Half of that.” Just doing it bit-by-bit and taking risks and trusting in yourself. In adventure and exploration, there’s not a right way to do it, you just need to keep doing it.
MYOO: Thanks Rachel. Do you have anything else you’d like to add?
RACHEL: Oftentimes if you look back through history, some of the most interesting discoveries have come through chance, through intuition—through all sorts of modes that are outside our preconceived ideas of how things have to be done. And that’s where I think that intersection of art and science has so much potential. There’s so much work to be done. There’s so much we don’t know yet.
—Shauna Sweeney
Rachel Sussman is an artist, photographer and TED speaker who takes pictures of the oldest living things on earth. For more on Rachel and updates on her project, The Oldest Living Things in the World, check out her website and follow her on twitter.

















43,000 year old shrub! I can barely keep my basil thriving for the season.
Do you think the harsh conditions surrounding many these anomolies may correlate to their survival because of the lack of many potential pests being able to survive under those conditions? I grew up in desolate North Dakota, where we have a saying “40 below keeps out the riff-raff!” I wonder about the possibility that the harsh conditions may have actually helped the organisms Rachel photographs to survive by eliminating potential “enemy species”.
My dad was an arborist/entomologist and he would have loves this article and this work.
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