Almond polers near Lost Hills, CA. A crew of workers stands among almond trees during the annual harvest outside of Lost Hills. Every fall for six to eight weeks fleets of tractors harvest almonds by shaking the trees so vigorously that all but a few nuts fall instantly to the ground. Those that remain are knocked out of the trees manually by men and women using bamboo pikes., September 16, 2009, from Lost Hills, by Sam Comen

Inspired by Walker Evans' and James Agee's collaborative book on 1930's sharecroppers, contender Sam Comen and writer/filmmaker Alex Sherman set out for Lost Hills, California to document what they call, "the emblematic frontier town of the 21st Century." Nearly 75 years after Dorothea Lange photographed her iconic Migrant Mother—not too far off from this town—the fragile local economy continues to revolve around migrant workers and agriculture. Depending on how you look at it, the community reveals itself to be "fraught with the ambitions and anxieties of [these] pioneers."

The story of each photograph overflows from the frame in the form of longwinded captions that follow each image. What's unusual is that Sam's photographs are shot in bright daylight, but they're augmented with seemingly brighter artificial lights. Incongruous with the subject matter, the light casts a banal glamour over the scenes, reminiscent of Philip-Lorca diCorcia's street photography.

Saturday morning in Lost Hills, CA. Neighbors lend a hand to pave a new driveway. With only 175 registered voters out of approximately 2,000 residents, Lost Hills has little political pull at the county level, and residents there must take it upon themselves to make their own community improvements., March 28, 2009, from Lost Hills, by Sam Comen

Sam writes:

On first glance it might appear Lost Hills' residents are living the American Dream. They work hard to improve their economic lot, and come together on their own time to elevate their community. I think of the photo of neighbors pouring a new driveway as a version of an all-American barn raising. But because many of the residents in Lost Hills are undocumented, they may be cut out of the benefits of the Dream they're working toward. It's just as much an American nightmare as it is American dream. Just as troubling is the ecological unsustainability of the farming that support Lost Hills: the vast fruit and nut orchards are wholly dependent on water imported from Northern California, and the state is in its fourth year of drought. I'm interested in depicting how Lost Hills' residents negotiate the instability of their position while attempting to create a better life for themselves and their families.

Perhaps the best part of the project is it's comprehensive website, where the two continue to post new photographs, videos and writing from the field.

Jose on Chapulín in Lost Hills, CA. Jose Saldaña wears the traditional dress of the Charreada, or Mexican rodeo while astride his colt Chapulín in the front yard of his home in Lost Hills. Jose, 25, works in the oil fields outside of town and supports his aunt, uncle, sister, and two nieces. On his days off Jose practices the equestrian and lariat events and regularly competes with a team at Charreadas in the Central Valley and Los Angeles., March 28, 2009, from Lost Hills, by Sam Comen

The video excerpts posted by Alex, part of a larger documentary titled Harvest, are reminiscent of Jennifer Baichwal's 2006 film Manufactured Landscapes, about documentary photographer Edward Burtynsky. The two excerpts on the website incorporate Sam's still photographs, shots of the photographer at work, and documentary-style interviews with workers from the community.

After taking in all that has come out of the project so far, I can hardly wait for the next chapter from Lost Hills. You can stay tuned to The Lost Hills Project at it's official website and check out more work from Sam and Alex at their respective portfolios.