John Manno's Journey into "Misbegotten Places"

Photography, for me, has always been a way to reflect on the layers of memory and place that shape our understanding of the world. Over the past 15 years, I’ve poured myself into a project that has not only redefined how I think about photography but also how I think about the very nature of reality itself. The result of that journey is Misbegotten Places, a body of work that explores the interplay between memory, landscape, and perception, all through the lens of small-scale dioramas I construct from my own photographs.

Retrospective

At first glance, these dioramas might seem like simple recreations of places I’ve photographed over the years. But they are far more than that. Each diorama is a reimagined world—a space that’s simultaneously familiar and alien. The process of creating them is not just about assembling tiny pieces of a larger puzzle but about tapping into something much deeper. The images I capture are often a blur of the real and imagined, a visual commentary on how memories can shift, distort, and evolve over time.

The Making of "Misbegotten Places"

My approach to this project has always been as much about the process as the final image. I start with photographs I’ve taken over the years, many of which capture the mundane, the overlooked, or the forgotten corners of the world. From there, I deconstruct them—cutting, folding, and reassembling pieces until they become something new, something that evokes an emotional landscape more than a literal one.

The process is painstaking, but it’s also immensely rewarding. Each diorama comes together in layers, both physical and emotional. It’s a bit like building a memory, one where the details are not always exact but are shaped by how I feel about a place or a moment in time. As I manipulate the images, I’m not just recreating a scene but reshaping how I understand it. It’s an act of both construction and deconstruction, of revisiting the past and reinterpreting it.

What emerges from this process are photographs that feel both familiar and unsettling. You might recognize the places in them, but there’s always something off—something that hints at a deeper truth beneath the surface. These are places in between, worlds that exist in a liminal space where reality and memory merge.

A Meditation on Memory and Loss

Misbegotten Places isn’t just about abandoned buildings or forgotten landscapes; it’s a meditation on memory itself. Each diorama reflects the way we hold on to places in our minds—how they shift and change, how time can erode or alter them. The title, Misbegotten Places, speaks to that sense of misplacement. These are places that, for one reason or another, seem out of time or space, or places that have lost their way. They are both a reflection of what we’ve lost and what we’ve held onto.

There’s a certain beauty in decay, in how things change over time. And in that change, there’s often a sense of longing—a desire to hold on to something that can never quite be reclaimed. That’s what I hope viewers take away from these images: the feeling of being in a place that feels familiar yet strange, a place that exists only in the mind, where time, memory, and reality blend together.

A Commitment to the Long Road

What began as a simple project has evolved into something far more expansive. The commitment to Misbegotten Places over 15 years has been both an emotional and creative journey. There were times when I wondered if I was ever going to finish, but looking back, I realize that the act of persistence itself has been just as important as the final product.

I’ve always believed that art takes time—that true meaning and depth come not from rushing but from allowing yourself to sit with a work, to live with it, to let it evolve. That’s what Misbegotten Places has been for me: a long, winding exploration of memory, loss, and the spaces between.

See the Full Series

I invite you to explore Misbegotten Places in its entirety. Visit my website at www.misbegottenplaces.com to view the full series. Whether this is your first encounter with my work or you’ve followed the journey from the beginning, I hope these images resonate with you in a way that feels personal and evocative. Each photograph is a fragment of a larger story, one that continues to unfold, just like memory itself.

— John Manno