Remembering Constantine Manos: A Legendary Photographer and a Generous Friend

When I heard about Constantine Manos’ passing, I couldn’t help but reflect on the incredible life he lived and the unforgettable moments I was lucky to share with him. Costa, as his friends called him, was a master photographer whose work explored the soul of humanity. Born in South Carolina to Greek immigrant parents, he made his mark early with A Greek Portfolio, a powerful photo book capturing the lives of rural Greeks. He went on to join the prestigious Magnum Photos agency, and his work spanned decades, blending artistry, storytelling, and a deep understanding of people.

My journey with Costa began at the grand opening of the Leica Store Boston and Leica Gallery Boston. Costa was the featured artist for the event, and his stunning work filled the gallery walls, setting the tone for what Leica Boston would become: a hub for artists, storytellers, and photo enthusiasts. The Leica Store Boston is what brought me from Alabama to Boston, and it’s also where I first crossed paths with both Costa and my friend Randy Blythe. That meeting sparked friendships and experiences that have shaped my creative life ever since.

One of the most memorable experiences came when Randy and I visited Costa in Provincetown, MA. It was a sunny week in July when we made the trek to his home. The plan was simple: visit his house, check out his studio, and soak up a little Provincetown charm. What we didn’t realize was that we’d arrived during Bear Week.

Costa and his partner Michael were the ultimate hosts. After greeting us at their house, Costa drove us across town to his studio, casually navigating the bustling streets of Provincetown as if it were any other day. When we arrived, he treated us to a tour of his incredible photo archive. It was like stepping into a time capsule, filled with stories and images that spanned decades of his career.

After the tour, Costa dropped us off at Far Land Provisions and insisted—absolutely insisted—that we try the Pilgrim Lake sandwich. Now, I won’t lie: there were some other sandwiches on the menu that looked way more appetizing. But we couldn’t bring ourselves to deviate from Costa’s recommendation. What if he asked about it later?

So, we bit into the turkey, cheddar, cranberry chutney, and mayo creation and carried on with our day. Randy, ever the storyteller, kept me laughing with a wild tale about Snoop Dogg as we wandered through the Bear Week festivities. We took photos of the vibrant crowds, the quirky architecture, and the stunning beaches, soaking in all that Provincetown had to offer.

By the time we returned to Costa and Michael’s house, the sun was setting, and Costa had one last surprise for me: a signed copy of his book, A Greek Portfolio. That gesture—thoughtful, generous, and deeply personal—was pure Costa.

As Randy and I drove back to Boston with full bellies and full hearts, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for that day. It wasn’t just about photography; it was about connection, laughter, and appreciating the little things. Costa had this way of making every moment feel important, of showing you the beauty in the everyday.

He leaves behind a legacy not just of breathtaking images but of kindness, humor, and humanity. I’ll miss him dearly, but his work and his spirit will always be with me—and with anyone lucky enough to experience it.

Costa and Randy in Provincetown, MA.