Butterfly Bushes

Buddleia davidii (the Butterfly Bush) was introduced to the United Kingdom in the late 19th century to enhance British gardens with its abundant blooms, sweet fragrance, and ability to attract its namesake. Now considered a pest, Buddleia jumped garden fences and began altering the landscape, flourishing in unexpected places like brownfields and aging sandstone façades.

Originating from the mountainous regions of central and western China, its small, light seeds spread on the wind. In the U.K., and Glasgow specifically, Buddleia seeks higher ground, growing on rooftops and walls ­— an unintentional architectural motif woven into the fabric of urban grit and 19th century tenements. As a new arrival to Glasgow, the bushes were one of the first things I noticed about the city, and I identified with their tenacity to find belonging in a new place.

Butterfly Bushes have a habit of growing along railway lines, jumping from one town to another. Maps of their progress northward across the U.K. show a rapid, upwardly mobile spread that appears to defy gravity. Try to uproot one, and you’ll discover that their woody stems are powerful anchors, tethering them to their new homes. In this photobook, I explored butterfly bushes as a metaphor for immigrants who are both shaped by their new environment, and in turn evolve their new cities into something new. I fused the visual language of human identification with herbaria alongside in situ images of the butterfly bushes in their new habitat, creating a book evoking the confusing feeling of belonging and unbelonging one feels when adapting to a new place.

In July, Glasgow explodes with vibrant purple blooms, and the air smells of honey. The silvery underbelly of their leaves catches the eye as they flutter in the same wind that carries their seeds to new territories. It’s difficult to imagine the city without them.