THE MANY SHADES OF MARCELLUS BONOW-MANIER

by Brihana Juá

“The man that knows something knows that he knows nothing at all.” — Erykah Badu

UNTITLED #2, from 13th & Greely by Marcellus Bonow-Manier.

For artists, this knowing and not knowing is a familiar state. Creativity often lives in the space between confidence and uncertainty, between what you’ve mastered and what still humbles you. For Seattle-based photographer Marcellus Bonow-Manier, that tension is not something to resolve, but something to return to again and again. “I feel like I’m reinterpreting those constraints,” he says. “Giving myself more room to explore and embarrass myself.”

Raised in Seattle’s Central District before later moving south, Bonow-Manier grew up watching neighborhoods shift physically, culturally, and historically. That sense of movement, displacement, and transition continues to echo throughout his work. His photographs often feel unanchored in time, rooted in place yet suspended in ambiguity. They don’t document Seattle as a static city, but as a living archive shaped by memory, labor, and loss.

Currently a resident artist at the Georgetown Steam Plant, Bonow-Manier is developing a long-term photographic series that will unfold over the next two to three years. The project is deeply tied to the history of the site itself, beginning with 13th & Greely, an abandoned street that once existed where the Steam Plant now stands. “Diving into the history has been helping in the creative process,” he explains. The work traces industrial remnants, urban erasure, and environmental shifts, including the straightening of the Duwamish River, as a way of understanding how landscapes shape identity.

This approach reflects Bonow-Manier’s broader fascination with archival work and world-building. “I’m interested in collecting and archiving,” he says, “in building something that feels bigger than a single image.” That interest has taken him everywhere from county fairs, which he’s documented for the past four years, to industrial interiors that feel frozen in time. At the Steam Plant, the conditions themselves become collaborators. “It’s super cold and dark at night,” he says. “You’re constantly being tested.”

“I’m always looking for the decisive moment, or the thing that isn’t necessarily meant to be photographed.”

Bonow-Manier welcomes that discomfort. “It puts you on your toes, literally and figuratively,” he says. The challenges of working in unfamiliar, often restrictive environments have pushed him to rethink how and why he makes images. “It’s a mix of being hypercritical,” he admits, “and accepting failing and embracing discovery.” Instead of resisting uncertainty, his work leans into it.

That philosophy wasn’t immediate. Early on, Bonow-Manier was more interested in consuming art than producing it. He immersed himself in vintage fashion editorials, Japanese fashion magazines, and photo books, eventually attending design school. Fashion photography, in particular, left a lasting impression. “I always liked fashion photography,” he says. “I didn’t really know anything about it at first.” What drew him in wasn’t the glamour but the narrative potential, the ability to build mood, tension, and meaning through subtle gestures.

When he began shooting seriously around 2020–2021, Bonow-Manier moved through clothing brand work, street photography, and behind-the-scenes documentation of fashion shows, including ongoing work with local fashion designer Dan McLean, where he captured not only backstage moments but glimpses into her creative process as a designer. Developing technical skills came quickly, but clarity did not. “Finding your why is hard,” he says. Street photography, he notes, can feel endless, demanding constant presence and constant response. Over time, frustration with his own images forced him to reassess what he was chasing. “I started focusing more on the power of the content,” he explains, “on composition and feeling.”

That shift led him to question traditional ideas of beauty and polish. Bonow-Manier is less interested in what’s posed or “pretty” than in the fleeting, often awkward moments that feel real. “I’m always looking for the decisive moment,” he says, “or the thing that isn’t necessarily meant to be photographed.” His images prioritize rhythm over symmetry and emotional tension over clarity.

Color, and the absence of it, plays a critical role in that exploration. His work often leans toward black and white, a choice he describes as both intuitive and intentional. “It’s kind of a subconscious lean,” he says. “But it’s also about stripping down distractions.” This evolving visual language is central to his current body of work, Bump My Head on the Moon, Live So High Up in the Mountains, Eating Snake Meat and Raccoons, a five-part folk-horror photographic series rooted in place, labor, and myth. Developed in collaboration with Emerald City Dispatch (ECD) and the Georgetown Steam Plant, the project emphasizes world-building over individual images. “Working with a blank slate,” he says, “creates a lot of energy and excitement.”

UNTITLED #1, from 13th & Greely by Marcellus Bonow-Manier.

The first two volumes, 13th & Greely and 13th & Warsaw, are scheduled for release in 2026 through ECD Press. For Bonow-Manier, the collaborative nature of the project is just as important as the final outcome. Working closely with fashion photographers and fellow artists through ECD has continued to shape his practice. “Being around other people’s processes keeps me learning,” he says.

Recently, that learning has taken a quieter form. “I’ve been leaning into editing,” he explains, “and not always working on my own projects.” Curating, sequencing, and presenting his work has become an extension of his creative practice, a way of slowing down and becoming more intentional. “I’m giving myself more room,” he says, “to explore without needing to arrive.”

Bonow-Manier’s images carry a deep affection for Seattle, even when they reveal its fractures. Shaped by the transformation of the Central District, he photographs the city with both intimacy and distance. His work unlocks Seattle’s quieter charm, candid, raw, and unresolved. “It’s not always joyous,” he admits. “It’s kind of a love-hate relationship.”

That commitment to exploration runs through his family as well. His mother, Rainbow Renee Manier, a jewelry artist featured by ARTE NOIR, shares a similar devotion to intuition, material, and spirit. Together, their practices reflect an ongoing dialogue between making and meaning.

Bonow-Manier isn’t interested in arriving at a final answer. His work lives in process, in the act of looking, revisiting, and reinterpreting what’s already there. “I’m giving myself more room to explore,” he says, “and more room to fail.” Whether documenting an abandoned street, a county fair, or a moment between moments, his images resist certainty. They ask for time, attention, and presence. In that space, meaning reveals itself slowly.

ABOUT THE ARTIST

MARCELLUS BONOW-MANIER is a Seattle-based photographer working across street, fashion, and documentary projects. His practice includes curatorial and collaborative work through Emerald City Dispatch, a photojournalism and street photography collective.

Guided by the subconscious, improvisation, and a push against traditional form, Bonow-Manier’s images are made intuitively and edited with care. His work embraces surrealism, ambiguity, and emotional tension—favoring rhythm over symmetry and feeling over fact.

While his work has primarily existed within street and documentary contexts, he is currently completing a body of work titled Bump My Head on the Moon, Live So High Up in the Mountains, Eating Snake Meat and Raccoons. The project is a folk-horror photographic series composed of five printed releases. The first two volumes, 13th & Greely and 13th & Warsaw, will be published in August and December 2026 through ECD Press, in collaboration with the Georgetown Steam Plant.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Brihana Juá is a self-taught musician and mentor whose journey through grief, loss, and self-discovery shapes the heart of her art. Raised in a Caribbean household in Florida, music was both a refuge and a constant companion. From singing herself to sleep as a child to the first time hearing Erik B & Rakim at age eight, music ignited a fire in her that would fuel her artistic path. Today, Juá is driven to share her light through music, using her art to empower others while staying true to her mission of growth, mentorship, and resilience.