Matt York has been shaping gardens in Australia and across the world for over 30 years. In 2026, his garden We the Wild earned a Gold Medal, Best Use of Plant Life and Best in Show at the Melbourne International Flower and Garden Show.
For Matt, landscape architecture has always been about more than how a space looks. It’s about how it feels, how it performs, and how it connects people back to something deeper. We sat down with him to talk about his journey, the evolution of the discipline, and the thinking behind We the Wild.
Tell us about your journey into landscape architecture.
As a teenager, I worked in landscape construction with my uncle’s business, so weekends and school holidays were spent on site. Even before that, my family always had strong connections to gardens. My grandparents had a place in Williamstown with fruit trees and a really established garden, and those environments stay with you.
When I finished school, I was heading toward fine art, sculpture in particular. But I became more interested in how that creative thinking could sit alongside horticulture and design. That led me to landscape architecture at RMIT in the 90’s, and into practice not long after.
How has the role of a landscape architect changed since then?
When I started out, the work was more centred on amenity. That’s still important, but the role has expanded significantly. Now we’re much more involved in environmental systems, water management, climate resilience, and the social side of how spaces are used.
Landscape architecture has become a connector between built, natural and cultural systems. We’re not responding to a single brief but instead working across multiple layers at once.
What does the Melbourne International Flower & Garden Show (colloquially known as MIFGS) mean to you?
It is something I’ve always held in high regard; with the calibre of designers involved and the level of work produced, it represents the highest accolade in the Southern Hemisphere.
After producing many show gardens now, what stands out is the collaboration. Designers, contractors, growers and suppliers all working toward a shared outcome – that level of alignment doesn’t always happen in day-to-day practice.
There’s also the exposure. You become your own client and present your thinking very publicly. There’s nowhere to hide in that, which is part of the appeal.
How does designing a show garden differ from your day-to-day work?
It’s a completely different set of conditions from the day-to-day. You have access to the best materials, plant stock and collaborators, and you’re not constrained by budget in the same way. It becomes more about how well you bring everything together. There’s also immediacy, as the garden and all of its plants are presented at their peak, rather than evolving over time.
At the same time, the footprint is small but the ideas are large. In this years case, We the Wild’s thinking was about Melbourne as a growing city, so the challenge was how to express that within a show garden.
Let’s talk We the Wild – Congratulations on your wins! How did the southern coastline influence the design?
Living on the Surf Coast like I do (Jan Juc), you’re constantly aware of the Southern Ocean. There’s an energy to it that’s hard to ignore. It’s travelled a long way from one of the most intense weather bands in the world, it’s powerful, evocative, restorative. There’s something ancient about the coastline as well, and I think people respond to that even if they can’t quite explain why. Being close to that landscape, and then working in a growing city, it felt important to bring some of that sublime, awe-inspiring coast into the garden.
What did you hope people would take away from the garden?
There were a few layers to that. Part of it was showing that landscape can create a sense of respite and restoration, even in smaller spaces if it’s considered properly.
There was also a broader message around responsibility. As cities grow, every garden contributes to the wider ecosystem as a whole, and that doesn’t need to be at the cost of amenity.
And then the planting… I wanted to show people that you can have this incredible, highly diverse, floral Australian native landscape – not just grasses and eucalypts.
What did you learn from this garden?
I learned about the power of intuition and how important it is to listen to the landscape.
We often start designing from the confines of an office, however there’s a point where you move beyond drawings and start responding to the broader forces on site. Light, shadow, topography, the way water moves, existing elements all begin to influence decisions, and you start to rely on instinct a bit more.
Spiritual things happened throughout the week of the build, moments where things felt unusually clear. You could place something and know almost immediately whether it was right or not. We had instances where elements just sat perfectly. The first of the structures went down completely level, without adjustment, which doesn’t really happen. Everyone kind of stopped and looked at each other.
The placement of the grass trees was another example; we wanted them to look as though a fire had gone through and that had regenerated and self-sown. As soon as the first of the 200-year old trees was placed, there was intense clarity that it wasn’t in its right spot. Once we got it right, everything else started to fall into place around them. There was a sense that the garden was guiding us – which might sound a little woo-woo, but the design came together incredibly intuitively.
How did it feel to receive the recognition you did?
I was chuffed, and what stood out most for me was that people understood the intent behind the garden. It wasn’t a conventional or classic design, so there was always a question of how it would be interpreted.
To see that connection happen, and for the narrative to come through clearly, was incredibly rewarding. It felt like people weren’t just seeing it, they were experiencing it in the way we had hoped.
Do you have a favourite plant?
I’ve always had a connection to tree ferns, particularly Dixonia antarctica. I remember playing in fern gullies as a kid, and that sense of enclosure and scale has stayed with me.
The grass trees from this project have also become a favourite. Knowing they’ve been around for over 200 years, there’s a presence to them. You can feel it when you’re around them.
Will we see you back at MIFGS?
I’ll stay involved in some capacity but it might be a little while before another show garden. It’s a fairly intense process, and probably time for a rest and reset.
