The Empowering Mushroom

Chanterelles, morels, truffles, lion’s mane, reishi, psilocybes: our obsession with the fungal universe has exploded in recent years. The more we study them, the more mushrooms reveal their superpowers—culinary, therapeutic, and environmental. What if they could also become a powerful social force? Here is the remarkable story of matsutake.

Matsutake, also known as pine mushrooms, are found in large quantities at the Tsukiji Market in Tokyo. In the fall they are displayed in small individual boxes, on beds of branches, alongside red tuna and baskets of chestnuts. With a going rate of close to US $1,000 a pound, matsutake is the second most expensive mushroom in the world, after truffles. Many compare its scent to a combination of cinnamon candy and old cheese, and everyone agrees that it is delicious when infused in rice or in sukiyaki broth.

In his book Entangled Life (2021), biologist Merlin Sheldrake writes that matsutake was the first form of life to sprout after the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Indeed, a characteristic of this mushroom is that it grows in forests that have been devastated by human beings—mainly in pine forests that have been clear-cut. The matsu (pine tree) is fed by the take (mushroom) and encouraged to grow again. The mushroom participates in the mycoremediation and regeneration of the soil, earning it the nickname “deforestation first responder.”

It was also in the wake of destruction that matsutake spread throughout Japan in the 8th century, particularly in forests around Kyoto, which had been razed to build and heat temples. For more than a thousand years, it was a prized ingredient among the monarchy and the country’s elite. Then, in the 1950s, the government introduced reforestation measures to increase the density of pine forests, which led to a shortage of matsutake.

Japanese matsutake enthusiasts turned to the national forests of Oregon, under threat from the logging industry, to establish a first matsutake business in 1989. At the same time, waves of refugees from Southeast Asia were arriving in the United States, fleeing persecution and war. When it proved difficult to find jobs in the new country, many recognized a good business opportunity and became mushroom pickers.

Thirty years later, the matsutake camps in Oregon are an important gathering place for Vietnamese, Cambodian, Laotian, and Hmong families. The camps once had a Wild West feel, but permits are now given to pickers, allowing them to operate legally. Over the years, Mexican migrant workers and hippies from Portland have joined the ranks. The season begins in early summer and continues until the first snows. Mushrooms are delivered to Japan within 72 hours.

Renowned artist and photographer Eirik Johnson grew up picking mushrooms on the American West Coast. When he heard of the matsutake camps, he knew he’d stumbled across a great story, touching on contemporary social, environmental, and economic issues. Since 2011 he has been photographing the complex world surrounding the precious mushroom, from the United States to Japan.

Johnson was invited to spend time in three of the camps. There, he witnessed families supporting their needs independently, far from the exploitative drudgery of many American businesses.

Anthropologist and author Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, who published The Mushroom at the End of the World in 2015, notes that matsutake has an extraordinary ability to cause communities—both natural and human—to flourish, even during the toughest times. This is the powerful story that Johnson captures in the images of his project, The Mushroom Camps.