September 1st. The Street Near "Akademika Pavlova" Metro Station in Kharkiv. Over ten explosions (we’ll start counting them instead of sheep when we can't fall asleep) — about ten minutes after them. This photo was taken by photographer Georgiy Ivanchuk. At the moment the explosions occurred (someone is already counting), he was sitting in a Kharkiv café and immediately headed towards the smoke. By the time he arrived, medics were already on the scene, and they came under a second Russian attack while assisting the wounded Kharkiv residents.
The scene is almost impossible to fully capture, but it clearly depicts a day of war with devastating circumstances, where time doesn't stop, but each moment freezes the eye.
Three medics. Two are carrying a stretcher with their colleague — either he is talking to one of them or examining his wounded leg. The man pulling the stretcher at the front seems to be preparing to load it into the ambulance, while the one at the back is possibly listening to the injured man. The shot appears spontaneous and urgent: the people seem to be moving across the entire frame straight into the open doors of the ambulance, which is about to depart, and as you watch them, you almost expect the doors to slam shut in a nervous hurry.
On that day, debris injured two medics. The medic on the stretcher is Dr. Dmytro Piddubnyi, an anesthesiologist, who later underwent surgery on his leg. His colleague, 21-year-old Yevhen Yurko, a fifth-year medical student and paramedic, was injured in the head. Kharkiv residents raised funds for the young man's treatment, but a few days later, Yevhen died in the hospital.
September 1st. On this day, Ukrainian children went back to school, including those in Kharkiv. Such is life during wartime: no matter how many explosions are counted, children will go to school or continue learning at home (many in Kharkiv study in the metro), adults will go to work, and everyone will sleep in their own homes, despite the lack of guarantees. Children around the world return to their studies on this day, and in some lesson, such as a law class, they will learn that after World War II, the civilized world built a system meant to protect them.
September 1st is Knowledge Day. For instance, knowledge about the Geneva Convention’s unconditional protection of medics. Or about the requirement for a state holding prisoners of war to encourage "intellectual and recreational activities." Or that bombings, shootings, and extrajudicial executions can be condemned in many ways: sharply, decisively, boldly, resolutely, categorically, firmly, and in various other ways.
Text: Vira Kuriko
Photo: Georgiy Ivanchenko
September 1st. The Street Near "Akademika Pavlova" Metro Station in Kharkiv. Over ten explosions (we’ll start counting them instead of sheep when we can't fall asleep) — about ten minutes after them. This photo was taken by photographer Georgiy Ivanchuk. At the moment the explosions occurred (someone is already counting), he was sitting in a Kharkiv café and immediately headed towards the smoke. By the time he arrived, medics were already on the scene, and they came under a second Russian attack while assisting the wounded Kharkiv residents.
The scene is almost impossible to fully capture, but it clearly depicts a day of war with devastating circumstances, where time doesn't stop, but each moment freezes the eye.
Three medics. Two are carrying a stretcher with their colleague — either he is talking to one of them or examining his wounded leg. The man pulling the stretcher at the front seems to be preparing to load it into the ambulance, while the one at the back is possibly listening to the injured man. The shot appears spontaneous and urgent: the people seem to be moving across the entire frame straight into the open doors of the ambulance, which is about to depart, and as you watch them, you almost expect the doors to slam shut in a nervous hurry.
On that day, debris injured two medics. The medic on the stretcher is Dr. Dmytro Piddubnyi, an anesthesiologist, who later underwent surgery on his leg. His colleague, 21-year-old Yevhen Yurko, a fifth-year medical student and paramedic, was injured in the head. Kharkiv residents raised funds for the young man's treatment, but a few days later, Yevhen died in the hospital.
September 1st. On this day, Ukrainian children went back to school, including those in Kharkiv. Such is life during wartime: no matter how many explosions are counted, children will go to school or continue learning at home (many in Kharkiv study in the metro), adults will go to work, and everyone will sleep in their own homes, despite the lack of guarantees. Children around the world return to their studies on this day, and in some lesson, such as a law class, they will learn that after World War II, the civilized world built a system meant to protect them.
September 1st is Knowledge Day. For instance, knowledge about the Geneva Convention’s unconditional protection of medics. Or about the requirement for a state holding prisoners of war to encourage "intellectual and recreational activities." Or that bombings, shootings, and extrajudicial executions can be condemned in many ways: sharply, decisively, boldly, resolutely, categorically, firmly, and in various other ways.
Text: Vira Kuriko
Photo: Georgiy Ivanchenko
UAPP is an independent association of professional Ukrainian photographers, designed to protect their interests, support, develop and promote Ukrainian photography as an important element of national culture.
UAPP's activities span educational, social, research and cultural initiatives, as well as book publishing.
UAPP represents Ukrainian professional photography in the international photographic community and is an official member of the Federation of European Photographers (FEP) — an international organization representing more than 50,000 professional photographers in Europe and other countries around the world.
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