Continuing Our Series with Ukrainian Documentary Professionals
This time, we spoke with Pavlo Petrov, a photographer with the State Emergency Service of Ukraine (SES). Pavlo shared insights about his work documenting emergencies, the unpredictability of "typical" shoots, the photos from the war that can’t yet be shown, and why capturing death is an essential part of his job.
Do you consider yourself a documentary photographer? "Interesting question, actually. That’s something I probably should have thought about before the interview," Pavlo laughs. "Yes, I am a documentary photographer, but in a very niche field. That’s how I’d describe my work.
I started working with the SES in 2012. I had been training to work in emergency services but dabbled in photography on the side. My education is in civil safety, so you could say I ended up in the press office by chance."
I studied in Kharkiv, and in 2017 I started working in the press service of the SES. At that time, the Russian-Ukrainian war was already underway, and I spent a lot of time in eastern Ukraine, particularly in Sievierodonetsk. At that time, the situation at the front was more or less stable. When I came to the SES, we already understood our locations for work. For example, the checkpoints in Luhansk region, in particular Stanytsia Luhanska, as well as Zolote checkpoint, which we tried to open five times. If I'm not mistaken, this checkpoint was never opened because I left Luhansk region in 2020. We worked in Popasna and the towns near it, in Stanychno-Luhansk district, which was very close to the combat line; in the town of Shchastia, which was located across the bridge from the occupation forces in Luhansk region. Body armor and helmets with the words “Ministry of Emergency Situations” written in white paint were the norm in those parts. There were rules there that did not exist in other regions of Ukraine.
I did not look at my job as an opportunity to study what the future holds for our country. From the very beginning, the war seemed inevitable to me. Something had to happen and they would move on. In 2020, when I was transferred, I had a strong feeling that the war would spread further, but it was unclear to what extent. I remember very well that it was with this thought in mind that I moved from Luhansk to Kyiv. I remember this thought, even though it was fleeting and arose on the road, somewhere near Kharkiv. Perhaps because I was moving with a cat in my arms, which was in a special carrier. I kept thinking about it in 2022, and it was like looking into the water.
The SES has its own structure. There are main departments in the regions. In the Luhansk region, there was one department for the entire region. The press service there consisted of 5-6 people. It's not that the staff was completely full, there could have been three or four people. However, they were based in cities, regional centers, and they did not have the ability to quickly travel to the region, somewhere 200 kilometers away, in case of an emergency. Usually, there was a person in each district who could be contacted who was responsible for this area. After graduation, I went to work in the Starobilsk district of Luhansk region because that's where I came from.
I am originally from Starobilsk. I lived on Andriushchenko Street, which is now renamed to Mykola Zherebylo Street. He was a very young guy, eight years younger than me, from my house, who died in the battles near Lysychansk. Starobilsk is now a temporarily occupied territory. I still have my house and apartment there. In 2022, I took my mother from there. She now lives and works in Kyiv.
I remember my first shooting for the SES. Very close to the village of Chmyrivka, grass and reeds were burning heavily. It was a fire in the ecosystem, which I filmed and sent to Sievierodonetsk, to the main department. We were preparing materials for them. After that, apparently, someone there saw that the guy was doing something very interesting... I think so.
After graduation, I wanted to leave the service. Apparently, it was the work in the press service that allowed me to do what I like, and I stayed. At the beginning, I was very annoyed that the photos of the SES were mostly about nothing. You look at a picture and there is some strange man doing something incomprehensible. Such photos did not evoke any emotions, there was no response inside that this was really important work. I just wanted to show how I saw it. At that time, compared to now, the weight of the service was completely different.
My first trip during the war was in 2018 to Stanytsia Luhanska district. However, not near the occupied territory, but near the Russian Federation. A mined forest was burning very badly. We drove from Sievierodonetsk with the firefighting headquarters for about three hours through the fields and along the road broken by vehicles. While we were traveling, a team of sappers from the State Emergency Service was called there to make a demining line, and behind them, foresters made minefields. It is a common thing to separate two parts of the forest from each other so that the fire, for example, does not spread over the grass floor. The tractor driver thought they were taking too long to clear the mines, so he decided to drive around and exploded about fifty meters away. It was good that our sappers saved him - they provided all the necessary first aid and handed him over to doctors. We arrived - me with a camera and the guys who were supposed to lead the firefighting in the area. The head of the unit runs out of the woods, takes out a bulletproof vest from a tank, a helmet and says: “You're coming with me, but we're going to go side by side”. I said: “Why?”. He answers: “Well, we just threw the sleeve down, so we're walking on it, because it's not mined here.” That was when I realized a lot about my work.
Then I took pictures of the forest burning. I have these photos. It was a very powerful work of pyrotechnics, because there were booby traps that were detonated on the spot. We worked there for at least two days. The fire managed to spread across the river to the Russian Federation, which was cool.
The first time I took a picture of the victim after the fire, I doubted whether I had the right to do so. Later, I realized that I needed to show such shots to make people aware of the problem. It's like with faith: you decide for yourself whether it's worth it. I chose to do so, demonstrating it through the work of the rescuers.
I felt very strange when I first photographed a dead person. He died in a fire. Then I wondered if I had the right to do it. Now I have no such questions. It was the first time I photographed a dead person. I had to answer for myself why I was doing it. I think it's like with religion. You have to answer yourself whether you believe in something or not. I decided that I needed to show it. It's important because if you break any rules, you can die. It still works for me. My explanation is this. Maybe some people can see the problem through the death of another person. But I always try to do it through the prism of the work of rescue units.
I met February 24, 2022, at work. On February 23, a state of emergency was declared and it was just my shift. We had been on duty for weeks and it was my shift. I woke up at four in the morning to a lot of messages in the work chat. As I remember now, it was one of the offices in our headquarters. I just remember opening my eyes. I was wearing warm socks, these knitted socks, very, very thick. I took them off, put on my shoes, came to the office and just started waking up with all these thoughts. However, there was no surprise. I remember that in the morning there was a little chaos at work, and I was surprisingly calm inside.
My first photo after February 24 is of my arrival. On February 25, I started working on the left bank. I also took pictures of my colleagues, their emotions, their surprise. I have a shot of someone standing and holding his head. You could just read their faces - people don't know what to do.
Fortunately, there were no emergencies in Kyiv on February 24. Our rescuers went to Brovary, but the press service was not allowed to go there because it was the territory of Kyiv region. On February 25, I went to the left bank, to Kosytsia Street. A rocket fell there, but I could be wrong, because it was really my first visit. A piece of a rocket fell near a residential building, as if it had been shot down. Windows were smashed in the whole house. Some doors would not open due to the large shock wave. Rescuers put out the fire and evacuated people who could not get out on their own. The entrances were very smoky. I didn't quite understand what was happening at the time. I just used everything I had filmed before as a basis.
While filming before the full-scale invasion, I knew what was going to happen next. Rescuers have algorithms that they use to determine the crucial direction of their work. When you've been doing this for a long time, you realize what will happen next, what will happen in five minutes. For example, the rescuers have arrived, deployed their equipment, some people will go inside to put out the fire, and some will stay outside. I plan my shooting, it's no longer unpredictable for me. It helps me a lot in my work. I catch the moment.
I was not satisfied with the first shooting of the arrival. It seems to me that it could have been done much better. The work of the rescuers was actually very good, but the photos and video I shot then did not satisfy me. Unlike on February 26. Then I filmed a direct hit of a rocket into a high-rise building on Lobanovsky Avenue. We were the first to arrive at the scene. I remember that Kyiv was empty and we were driving at high speed along Druzhby Narodiv. The police and some fire and rescue units were already at the scene. The rescuers began to climb upstairs, evacuate people, and took out a wounded woman. I filmed all the work of the rescuers on the level. At the same time, there was an alarm and I, together with the National Police, evacuated people who were just standing on the street to the underpass. People with children and dogs were waiting there for the second alarm.
When you can't change the situation, when you live in a certain given, at least I can talk about it. I was pleased with the result of my work because my shoot went viral and the world started to see. The photos were published in many media and went viral on Instagram. I realized that this is happening all over the country, but it was important for me to show that the war is in the capital. This is the heart of Ukraine and the war is already here.
Every call for rescuers is probably difficult. We recorded many rescuers and are still recording them during the full-scale Russian invasion. It's hard for everyone when people die. Rescuers should have gotten used to it, but no one does.
On March 1, a TV tower was hit. There is a gas station nearby and a two-story building opposite - a gym. It was on fire. Rescuers and firefighters arrived at the tower itself - a tanker arrived from the Sixth State Fire and Rescue Unit. We arrived on the road between the tower and the gym. It seemed to me that even the ground was on fire. There was a moment when we got out of the car, and everything was covered in smoke, which dissipated on the road for an hour. When we got closer, we saw four bodies. Four people had burned to death from the heat.
I have a photo that was taken of me by the filmmaker and videographer Serhiy Mykhalchuk. He caught me when I was approaching journalists and asked them to move away. I was covered in fire extinguisher powder. I spent another week cleaning my camera from this powder.
I managed to take a picture with a tree without leaves and a part of a rocket. I just wanted to show that, despite the human cost, the Russian Federation failed. What they wanted to do, they failed.
The feeling of routine comes from doing the same thing. However, when you arrive somewhere, you don't have this feeling. Perhaps people in the same uniform are engaged in rescue, and sometimes it can be the same people. For example, if we talk about small units, as it was in Bakhmut. One unit went there and worked there. However, the situations and the way rescuers deal with them are always atypical. Even if we talk about the Kakhovka hydroelectric power station, we were there for about 20 days, and every day was different.
Now I work in Kyiv. Before that, I worked at the central office of the State Emergency Service and traveled all over the country. I photographed the Kakhovka hydroelectric power station, events in Vinnytsia, Dnipro, Uman, Odesa, and also traveled a lot in Donetsk region. I show the work of rescuers, the rescue service. I work in special equipment, such as that of a rescuer or firefighter. I wear combat clothes that can withstand the temperature. I have a regular helmet, a headband to prevent anything from flying behind my collar, and fireproof boots. This gives me the opportunity to be as close as possible to the rescuers who are rescuing people, I can go up with them, for example, to the ninth floor on a lift, that is, to be close to them. In the end, any photographer can be there, as long as they are safe.
I don't plan to pursue a career as an independent photographer until the war is over. I want to complete this story for myself first of all. I also want to complete another photo story, but it will take a long time to put together. This is a photo project about the SES. We have a lot of interesting people, just like in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, who have already done a lot of cool and great things for this country.
We worked on the material:
Author of the text: Katia Moskaliuk
Literary editor: Yulia Futey
Website manager: Marusya Maruzhenko
Continuing Our Series with Ukrainian Documentary Professionals
This time, we spoke with Pavlo Petrov, a photographer with the State Emergency Service of Ukraine (SES). Pavlo shared insights about his work documenting emergencies, the unpredictability of "typical" shoots, the photos from the war that can’t yet be shown, and why capturing death is an essential part of his job.
Do you consider yourself a documentary photographer? "Interesting question, actually. That’s something I probably should have thought about before the interview," Pavlo laughs. "Yes, I am a documentary photographer, but in a very niche field. That’s how I’d describe my work.
I started working with the SES in 2012. I had been training to work in emergency services but dabbled in photography on the side. My education is in civil safety, so you could say I ended up in the press office by chance."
I studied in Kharkiv, and in 2017 I started working in the press service of the SES. At that time, the Russian-Ukrainian war was already underway, and I spent a lot of time in eastern Ukraine, particularly in Sievierodonetsk. At that time, the situation at the front was more or less stable. When I came to the SES, we already understood our locations for work. For example, the checkpoints in Luhansk region, in particular Stanytsia Luhanska, as well as Zolote checkpoint, which we tried to open five times. If I'm not mistaken, this checkpoint was never opened because I left Luhansk region in 2020. We worked in Popasna and the towns near it, in Stanychno-Luhansk district, which was very close to the combat line; in the town of Shchastia, which was located across the bridge from the occupation forces in Luhansk region. Body armor and helmets with the words “Ministry of Emergency Situations” written in white paint were the norm in those parts. There were rules there that did not exist in other regions of Ukraine.
I did not look at my job as an opportunity to study what the future holds for our country. From the very beginning, the war seemed inevitable to me. Something had to happen and they would move on. In 2020, when I was transferred, I had a strong feeling that the war would spread further, but it was unclear to what extent. I remember very well that it was with this thought in mind that I moved from Luhansk to Kyiv. I remember this thought, even though it was fleeting and arose on the road, somewhere near Kharkiv. Perhaps because I was moving with a cat in my arms, which was in a special carrier. I kept thinking about it in 2022, and it was like looking into the water.
The SES has its own structure. There are main departments in the regions. In the Luhansk region, there was one department for the entire region. The press service there consisted of 5-6 people. It's not that the staff was completely full, there could have been three or four people. However, they were based in cities, regional centers, and they did not have the ability to quickly travel to the region, somewhere 200 kilometers away, in case of an emergency. Usually, there was a person in each district who could be contacted who was responsible for this area. After graduation, I went to work in the Starobilsk district of Luhansk region because that's where I came from.
I am originally from Starobilsk. I lived on Andriushchenko Street, which is now renamed to Mykola Zherebylo Street. He was a very young guy, eight years younger than me, from my house, who died in the battles near Lysychansk. Starobilsk is now a temporarily occupied territory. I still have my house and apartment there. In 2022, I took my mother from there. She now lives and works in Kyiv.
I remember my first shooting for the SES. Very close to the village of Chmyrivka, grass and reeds were burning heavily. It was a fire in the ecosystem, which I filmed and sent to Sievierodonetsk, to the main department. We were preparing materials for them. After that, apparently, someone there saw that the guy was doing something very interesting... I think so.
After graduation, I wanted to leave the service. Apparently, it was the work in the press service that allowed me to do what I like, and I stayed. At the beginning, I was very annoyed that the photos of the SES were mostly about nothing. You look at a picture and there is some strange man doing something incomprehensible. Such photos did not evoke any emotions, there was no response inside that this was really important work. I just wanted to show how I saw it. At that time, compared to now, the weight of the service was completely different.
My first trip during the war was in 2018 to Stanytsia Luhanska district. However, not near the occupied territory, but near the Russian Federation. A mined forest was burning very badly. We drove from Sievierodonetsk with the firefighting headquarters for about three hours through the fields and along the road broken by vehicles. While we were traveling, a team of sappers from the State Emergency Service was called there to make a demining line, and behind them, foresters made minefields. It is a common thing to separate two parts of the forest from each other so that the fire, for example, does not spread over the grass floor. The tractor driver thought they were taking too long to clear the mines, so he decided to drive around and exploded about fifty meters away. It was good that our sappers saved him - they provided all the necessary first aid and handed him over to doctors. We arrived - me with a camera and the guys who were supposed to lead the firefighting in the area. The head of the unit runs out of the woods, takes out a bulletproof vest from a tank, a helmet and says: “You're coming with me, but we're going to go side by side”. I said: “Why?”. He answers: “Well, we just threw the sleeve down, so we're walking on it, because it's not mined here.” That was when I realized a lot about my work.
Then I took pictures of the forest burning. I have these photos. It was a very powerful work of pyrotechnics, because there were booby traps that were detonated on the spot. We worked there for at least two days. The fire managed to spread across the river to the Russian Federation, which was cool.
The first time I took a picture of the victim after the fire, I doubted whether I had the right to do so. Later, I realized that I needed to show such shots to make people aware of the problem. It's like with faith: you decide for yourself whether it's worth it. I chose to do so, demonstrating it through the work of the rescuers.
I felt very strange when I first photographed a dead person. He died in a fire. Then I wondered if I had the right to do it. Now I have no such questions. It was the first time I photographed a dead person. I had to answer for myself why I was doing it. I think it's like with religion. You have to answer yourself whether you believe in something or not. I decided that I needed to show it. It's important because if you break any rules, you can die. It still works for me. My explanation is this. Maybe some people can see the problem through the death of another person. But I always try to do it through the prism of the work of rescue units.
I met February 24, 2022, at work. On February 23, a state of emergency was declared and it was just my shift. We had been on duty for weeks and it was my shift. I woke up at four in the morning to a lot of messages in the work chat. As I remember now, it was one of the offices in our headquarters. I just remember opening my eyes. I was wearing warm socks, these knitted socks, very, very thick. I took them off, put on my shoes, came to the office and just started waking up with all these thoughts. However, there was no surprise. I remember that in the morning there was a little chaos at work, and I was surprisingly calm inside.
My first photo after February 24 is of my arrival. On February 25, I started working on the left bank. I also took pictures of my colleagues, their emotions, their surprise. I have a shot of someone standing and holding his head. You could just read their faces - people don't know what to do.
Fortunately, there were no emergencies in Kyiv on February 24. Our rescuers went to Brovary, but the press service was not allowed to go there because it was the territory of Kyiv region. On February 25, I went to the left bank, to Kosytsia Street. A rocket fell there, but I could be wrong, because it was really my first visit. A piece of a rocket fell near a residential building, as if it had been shot down. Windows were smashed in the whole house. Some doors would not open due to the large shock wave. Rescuers put out the fire and evacuated people who could not get out on their own. The entrances were very smoky. I didn't quite understand what was happening at the time. I just used everything I had filmed before as a basis.
While filming before the full-scale invasion, I knew what was going to happen next. Rescuers have algorithms that they use to determine the crucial direction of their work. When you've been doing this for a long time, you realize what will happen next, what will happen in five minutes. For example, the rescuers have arrived, deployed their equipment, some people will go inside to put out the fire, and some will stay outside. I plan my shooting, it's no longer unpredictable for me. It helps me a lot in my work. I catch the moment.
I was not satisfied with the first shooting of the arrival. It seems to me that it could have been done much better. The work of the rescuers was actually very good, but the photos and video I shot then did not satisfy me. Unlike on February 26. Then I filmed a direct hit of a rocket into a high-rise building on Lobanovsky Avenue. We were the first to arrive at the scene. I remember that Kyiv was empty and we were driving at high speed along Druzhby Narodiv. The police and some fire and rescue units were already at the scene. The rescuers began to climb upstairs, evacuate people, and took out a wounded woman. I filmed all the work of the rescuers on the level. At the same time, there was an alarm and I, together with the National Police, evacuated people who were just standing on the street to the underpass. People with children and dogs were waiting there for the second alarm.
When you can't change the situation, when you live in a certain given, at least I can talk about it. I was pleased with the result of my work because my shoot went viral and the world started to see. The photos were published in many media and went viral on Instagram. I realized that this is happening all over the country, but it was important for me to show that the war is in the capital. This is the heart of Ukraine and the war is already here.
Every call for rescuers is probably difficult. We recorded many rescuers and are still recording them during the full-scale Russian invasion. It's hard for everyone when people die. Rescuers should have gotten used to it, but no one does.
On March 1, a TV tower was hit. There is a gas station nearby and a two-story building opposite - a gym. It was on fire. Rescuers and firefighters arrived at the tower itself - a tanker arrived from the Sixth State Fire and Rescue Unit. We arrived on the road between the tower and the gym. It seemed to me that even the ground was on fire. There was a moment when we got out of the car, and everything was covered in smoke, which dissipated on the road for an hour. When we got closer, we saw four bodies. Four people had burned to death from the heat.
I have a photo that was taken of me by the filmmaker and videographer Serhiy Mykhalchuk. He caught me when I was approaching journalists and asked them to move away. I was covered in fire extinguisher powder. I spent another week cleaning my camera from this powder.
I managed to take a picture with a tree without leaves and a part of a rocket. I just wanted to show that, despite the human cost, the Russian Federation failed. What they wanted to do, they failed.
The feeling of routine comes from doing the same thing. However, when you arrive somewhere, you don't have this feeling. Perhaps people in the same uniform are engaged in rescue, and sometimes it can be the same people. For example, if we talk about small units, as it was in Bakhmut. One unit went there and worked there. However, the situations and the way rescuers deal with them are always atypical. Even if we talk about the Kakhovka hydroelectric power station, we were there for about 20 days, and every day was different.
Now I work in Kyiv. Before that, I worked at the central office of the State Emergency Service and traveled all over the country. I photographed the Kakhovka hydroelectric power station, events in Vinnytsia, Dnipro, Uman, Odesa, and also traveled a lot in Donetsk region. I show the work of rescuers, the rescue service. I work in special equipment, such as that of a rescuer or firefighter. I wear combat clothes that can withstand the temperature. I have a regular helmet, a headband to prevent anything from flying behind my collar, and fireproof boots. This gives me the opportunity to be as close as possible to the rescuers who are rescuing people, I can go up with them, for example, to the ninth floor on a lift, that is, to be close to them. In the end, any photographer can be there, as long as they are safe.
I don't plan to pursue a career as an independent photographer until the war is over. I want to complete this story for myself first of all. I also want to complete another photo story, but it will take a long time to put together. This is a photo project about the SES. We have a lot of interesting people, just like in the Armed Forces of Ukraine, who have already done a lot of cool and great things for this country.
We worked on the material:
Author of the text: Katia Moskaliuk
Literary editor: Yulia Futey
Website manager: Marusya Maruzhenko
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.
