Peter Margonelli began his career as an experimental filmmaker, earning a BFA in film from New York University. This solid foundation in the art of creating story led Peter to his true passion, photography, and the challenge to incorporate sound, narrative and movement in one still frame. 

Within the design community, Peter is widely recognized for his interior photography and the skillful manipulation of natural light to produce luminous interiors for global publication.

Peter Margonelli was invited to participate in the Helsinki Photography Biennial. Invisible Geographies was featured with two Chinese photographers work at the Blindspot Gallery in Hong Kong in a show that explored divergent views of the city. He currently lives and works in New York City.

About the work:

            Peter’s work focuses on depicting time and the traces and memories it leaves in its wake. His landscapes—often taken from the window of a train, car, or plane—reveal brief glimpses of forgotten, liminal spaces. They are neither a point of departure nor a destination—they are the fleeting moments of beauty that are not intentionally sought-after but are inadvertently discovered along a journey. They exist like flashes of vivid memory: an evocative moment floating to the top of a sea of lost details, blurred by the passage of time.

            In Peter’s newest series, “Mississippi Diorama,” vast industrial landscapes are depicted with a nostalgic softness; his aerial perspective seems to shrink the daunting and toxic spaces into something akin to a child’s beloved train set. By softening the roughness of these spaces, he points to the fragility and inconsequentiality of even the most mechanized human ventures. With this omniscient vantage, the conflict and strife of these spaces seems to melt away. They express a gentle sadness for the futile aspirations and struggles of these spaces; the once grand structures, slowly becoming lost in the dust and patina of time. They produce a kind of dissociative fantasy environment, where wounds of the past soften into a quiet melancholy—a nostalgia for an old dream.