The history of a place is not just what is documented in books and displayed in museums.
Another world is often overlooked – in urban and rural landscapes, in cities and neighborhoods.
It is the churches and homes, town halls and schools, once the epicenters of family and community life throughout the Commonwealth, that have been abandoned. Now they are skeletons of what they once were, almost unrecognizable, with peeling paint, sagging roofs and broken windows – shells of a past life, often with no one to tell their stories. But for photographer John Plaschal, these abandoned places are magical. “There is nothing more beautiful,” he says.
The Richmond-based photographer recalls the first time he knew he had caught lightning in a bottle when he came across two crumbling schools, long since abandoned, that stopped him in his tracks. He explored Powhatan and came across what turned out to be James’ Belmead and two historic schools that once occupied the land. “Some say the ground whispers through their feet,” says Plaschal, “and that certainly happened to me.” He was so moved that he grabbed his camera and started shooting.
After a bit of detective work, he discovered that the schools were established in the late 1800s specifically to educate black children—St. Emma’s Military Academy for boys and St. Francis de Sales School for girls. The fact that
both being on property that had once been a plantation was a powerful irony. “The fact that almost 15,000 African-American students were educated on the grounds of a former plantation is a story that needs to be told,” he says, adding that he has initiated coverage on local news stations as well as CNN and CBS . It’s been a satisfying ride for Plashal, and it all started with committing a crime: trespassing.
That fateful day was a turning point for Plaschal, who has spent the past 13 years chronicling what many people find easy to drive past to overlook. He calls his work “Beautifully Broken Virginia” – also the title of his 2019 book – where he captures the soul of structures through the lens of his camera. From churches to mansions, asylums, prisons and restaurants, they are all abandoned. Mother Nature is doing her best to restore them – “it’s like she has a sixth sense,” he says, as vines snake through cracks in the walls and weeds engulf the paths. Tree seedlings are sprouting from rooftops and weeds are suffocating what were once gardens.
He explores hollow shells that reveal little of what they once were, as well as the magnificent ornate mansions crumbling and dilapidated that may contain numerous artifacts of lives left behind. A pair of shoes, a suitcase, a newspaper, photographs are some of the clues he finds in the structures he explores – as if someone ran an errand and never came back. While hints may emerge, they raise even more questions that remain unanswered. Hamilton High School in Cartersville closed 60 years ago; its last class was dismissed in 1964. Now its 250-seat auditorium is empty, covered in dust and memories. What plays were performed on this stage?
Sometimes Plaschal is rewarded by meeting people associated with the abandoned properties he photographs. He does this through a practiced, domestic search, which he achieves by spending time in the communities he explores. “I interview loggers, bribe firefighters with doughnuts, strike up conversations with locals at diners, and approach customers at gas stations,” he says. “A lot of times I’ll just knock on doors. Rural Virginians are super friendly. All they want to do is accommodate me, especially when they realize my intentions to learn real about their community. And when he meets someone who actually grew up in a house or worshiped in a church or attended school — “that’s the icing on the proverbial cake,” Plaschal says, flashing a confident smile.
Richard Avedon photographed models, Ansel Adams, the landscape – all images of conventional beauty. But think of Scarecrow as more like Diane Arbus, capturing those on the fringes, people who were shunned and disrespected. Through Plaschal’s lens, the beauty is in the unconventional. His work introduces us to parts of our communities that otherwise remain ignored. And now, in a world where TikToks and Instagram posts set unrealistically high expectations—for what we see, what we look like, and what we consume—he reveals the beauty of what’s broken.
Journey through the abandoned underworld of Virginia
John Plashall has a corner of eerie Virginia, as well as an emotional connection to the sites he photographs – diners, shelters, churches, schools and homes – which he discovers throughout the Commonwealth. He says they represent Virginia’s “abandoned netherworld” that offers intriguing and mysterious clues about the people who once thrived in these forgotten and decaying places. His attachment to these
structures led him to note their unique appeal Beautifully broken Virginiahis 120-page art book of 80 affecting and haunting images he managed to capture during the dozen years he roamed the state. Listen to his podcast, dive deeper into “extreme landscape photography,” learn about upcoming shows and lectures, buy prints, and more at JohnPlashalPhoto.com.
This article originally appeared in October 2024 a question.