Photographer and artist Vladislav Krasnoshchek, a representative of the new wave of the Kharkiv School of Photography, continues to document the Russian-Ukrainian war. At the beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion, he captured the situation in his native Kharkiv and traveled with volunteers to the front line. He is working on authorial projects, the themes of which are united in a comprehensive chronicle of the war. Vlad spoke about the specifics of shooting the war on film, documenting the work of army aviation brigades and forensic experts, and why it is important to continue working on topics that cannot be immediately published in the media.
— When did you start documenting the full-scale war? What were the initial shots like?
— Documenting the war was, it seemed, an unattainable dream of mine. However, I never thought that a war would ever come to Ukraine, that it would be possible to photograph it. But the war came to our home, and I started photographing it.
I needed accreditation to photograph the war. At the beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion, people with cameras or mobile phones were simply at risk. Everyone thought that if you photographed a location, something would immediately hit it… I started with shots of anti-tank hedgehogs, destruction in my hometown, and burning Russian equipment here in Kharkiv. I photographed everything that was possible to try to capture at that time.
I didn’t think about the benefits of these shoots. For me, it was important in terms of documenting history and creating an archive. I divided this war into separate aspects for myself: I shoot one topic, then move on to the next, and keep the photos in my archive. I can return to previously shot topics to capture better images. When working on a book, I will simply select the most visually impactful pictures for each topic. Sometimes, I just try to compete with myself to capture the best shots.
— Besides the photographs documenting the full-scale invasion, you also write texts that serve as a diary of a war photographer. In one such piece, you mention a trip to Severodonetsk. Could you please share what kind of shots you brought back from there?
— At first, I always went out for shoots with volunteers or friends who had some kind of access to places where you could get some shots. The volunteers brought essential supplies to the locals or the military, and I traveled with them while trying to photograph at the same time. Early in the full-scale war, this way I managed to get to Lysychansk and then to Severodonetsk. By that time, local battles had already started, and I was surprised that volunteers even went there. When it was very dangerous, these people brought cat food to Severodonetsk. The situation there was such that it seemed almost impossible to take photos. Everything happened very quickly. The trip was more about remembering my feelings and everything that was going on there.
Of course, I managed to get a few shots. But my main thought was how to get out of there quickly while the bridges were still intact. By the way, the bridges were destroyed that same day, but we managed to leave before that happened. Otherwise, we would have had to float down the Siversky Donets River with the camera and then walk a long way on foot.
— How important and possible is it not to repeat oneself?
— "I think every photographer has repetitions. When it comes to documenting the war, everyone is repeating themselves, and capturing something that you or someone else hasn't captured before is very difficult. It seems that everyone has reached a standstill. All possible themes have already been covered by everyone, and photographers, to some extent, are shooting 'stamps.' For example, if there are casualties after a strike on a city, the shot will typically include: some blanket, a hand, a leg, a manicure, and in the background, parts of destroyed vehicles, someone lying down, and smoke... All photographers shoot this. I'm not saying it's unnecessary; on the contrary, it's important to document. However, it's much harder to capture something new, surreal, and unlike any shot that you or anyone else has taken before."
I don't often photograph missile strikes on Kharkiv. I don't always have the opportunity to go when I'm occupied with other matters or work. Additionally, I don't need to produce news or reports that need to be quickly delivered to agencies or editorial offices. When I have a personal sense that it's necessary to document the aftermath of a rocket strike, then I go and work at the site of the impact.
— What aspects of the full-scale war would you be interested in photographing?
— In my opinion, valuable shots can be taken anywhere you find yourself. The only difficulty is obtaining permission to shoot in certain places. I have a desire to photograph many different subjects, but access is not always available. Of course, there are journalists and photographers who don't face these problems. However, most Ukrainian documentarians encounter difficulties.
I had the chance to photograph forensic experts at work. But it's such a closed topic: I haven’t published any of the material yet, and I might not publish it at all. It’s more of a 'private collection' of sorts. Perhaps, in a few years, this work might be shown somewhere, and some of these shots could be included in my future photo book or become part of a separate photo book. Sometimes, when you delve into a topic for a long time and research it thoroughly, the work can turn into a book.
— You are currently filming an army aviation brigade. Could you please tell us when you started working on this topic?
— I've been filming army aviation for a year now and see that I’ve gathered so much material that it will also be a separate book. Whenever I have time, I write requests and inquire whether it’s possible to visit them. I got to know the brigade through pilot and captain Dmytro. I followed his Instagram page and asked if it would be possible to film the guys someday. Dmytro found out from his commanders the best way to do it and what request needed to be written. I visited the pilots, got acquainted, filmed, became friends with them, and started gradually gathering material. Then the idea came to create a separate story about army aviation.
At first, the guys were cautious of me. But then, when they saw the photos I had printed for them, they began to trust me. It’s much easier to photograph when you immerse yourself in a particular environment and aren’t seen as an outsider. Then, you shoot as if from within the system; they don’t feel self-conscious, they do their work, and you do yours — taking photos. People stop noticing you, and this relaxed atmosphere can later be captured in the shots.
I photograph the preparation of aircraft, missile loading, how pilots go on missions and return. Sometimes I'm also interested in capturing their everyday life. A few times, I’ve had the chance to fly with the guys when I got permission. It’s also interesting to go with the aviation navigators to the firing site and find out how everything happens, to work on that specific topic.
— How often do you print photos for the pilots?
— Whenever I have the chance, I always try to send the guys photos. It’s also important to me that they pass these photos to their commanders and decide which ones can be published and which should remain private for now. Recently, I made a set of postcards from the army aviation shoots. I had them printed in Kharkiv, and the design was done by a friend of mine. I selected forty photos and wrote a story that is on each postcard. I gave the sets to the pilots so they could have this memory. I included a QR code on the postcards that people could use to donate money to the brigade. It’s important that my photos are useful to the guys.
The postcards can be bought or people can use the QR code to transfer money directly to the pilots. I shared this information on my social media. I’m sure that 90% of the postcards will be bought by people working on topics related to the full-scale war and those generally interested in photography.
— You often mention photo books in our conversation. Why is this medium important to you?
— A book is something that will remain both after the war and after we are gone. It’s a way to preserve memory. Right now, these neighbors are firing missiles and rockets, and a book is a way to save the captured material. If a building with photographs and negatives is hit, the archive could be destroyed or lost. However, if there is a book, there will be a memory. It’s a way to preserve stories about what happened. When someone buys a book, and if the photos are evocative and interesting, they provide an idea of what was happening at a certain time. Of course, it’s impossible to photograph and fit all the topics of a full-scale war into one book, no matter how hard you try.
I recently thought that not all the aspects of the war captured can actually make it into the book. Some shots might visually stand out from the overall picture. You can photograph something during the war, but if the image doesn’t show the connection to the war, it could be mistaken for something taken before or after the conflict — it lacks a visual marker. For example, photographing prisoners of war might look like shooting people in a prison serving a sentence. This topic is difficult to depict in a way that is understood from the photograph alone. I want the photos that will be included in my future book to have a clear connection to the Russian-Ukrainian war.
Also, to preserve my archive, I transfer photographs to the Museum of Kharkiv School of Photography (MOKSOP). My long-time friend Serhiy Lebedynskyi took over two tons of negatives and photographs abroad. This is also one of the aspects of preserving this history about the war. When I pass the photos to Serhiy, they make their way to Europe, where they are safe for now. The museum is constantly hosting various events and exhibitions, and this is also one way to remind people that the war in Ukraine is still ongoing.
— Is it possible to maintain interest in the events in Ukraine through photography?
— This is one of the lines of support that works. People need to see photographs taken during the full-scale war. I wouldn’t say it’s the primary source of information about the war, but still, it is one of them. Recently, at a missile strike site in Kharkiv, a soldier or policeman tried to chase away the press. One of the photographers said he wouldn’t leave because it was necessary to document and show this to the world so that we could continue to receive weapons and ensure effective air defense. Of course, I understand there are restricted locations for filming, but in this case, the photographer was right.
— How aesthetic can the war in the frame be? For you, is war photography about documenting events or art?
— I look at shooting from an artistic point of view. News photographers need to show the events as harshly as possible so that it impacts people and prompts them to help us financially and with weapons. For me, it’s important that these shots are valuable from an artistic perspective and remain part of history. Sometimes people accuse me of aestheticizing war. I take it calmly. I don’t really think about whether I romanticize war or not. My main task is to create a visually compelling image that engages the viewer. It’s important for a photographer to have a visual language, a recognizable style. If you look at war photos now, 90% of the shots are very similar, they have a similar language. Sometimes it’s very hard to identify the photographer by just the picture.
The visual component is very important to me. I try to create an image where everything comes together and results in something expressive. When I return from a shoot, my first feeling is that I've photographed nothing but nonsense again. I develop the film, quickly scan it, and immediately don't like anything. This happens because there's no time gap between the shoot and the moment I print the photos. My eye gets tired, and everything looks bad to me; it doesn't match my feelings from the events because I just saw it yesterday. I need time to pass so I can realize what I’ve photographed.
Sometimes I show the material to friends to get their feedback on the images. They have a fresh perspective, as they weren’t present at the shoot, and they might notice something new. Their feedback is especially important to me in the first few days after I print everything. A month or six months later, I can evaluate my photos on my own. By then, I’ve distanced myself from the situation and can clearly see which shots are worth choosing. Even if I end up picking just two frames from an entire shoot—that's already a win.
Sometimes I have several shoots in a row, and I don't have time to print the first rolls of film. When I get a break from shooting, I can calmly go through my archive. I take A4 paper, mark the folder number, and note how many frames I want to print. While we used to rely on contact sheets, now I just look at the scanned negatives and select the frames. Then I choose a day to work in the darkroom and start developing the prints.
— What is the peculiarity of shooting the war on film? Does this method of documentation help avoid photographic "clichés"?
— The peculiarity of shooting on film is that I completely control the entire process—from developing to printing. I like that. Another advantage is that film is a physical thing. If there are large-scale blackouts, at least I will still have the negatives and photographs. Moreover, film-based photos and negatives can serve as evidence for documenting war crimes. No one will be able to claim it’s fake. Shooting on film is something I’m used to and something I find interesting to work with.
When I go on a shoot, I take enough film so I don’t have to think about running out. If it's a busy day with a lot going on, I’ll definitely use up ten rolls. When things are relatively calm, I don’t rush, and I spend more time thinking about each shot, so I use less film.
Sometimes my photographs are compared to images from World War I or World War II. Those were wars captured on black-and-white film, so perhaps such comparisons are inevitable. However, when you shoot on color film, associations with the present time arise, allowing room for experimentation. I constantly add and change things when shooting on film. At first, I photographed in the standard format, then switched to panoramic format, and later to medium format. I try to juggle different film formats, experiment with color, and test various printing methods. I’m always interested in what I’m doing. I always have the opportunity to change the way I work with film and print photographs.
The method of documentation does not allow for avoiding repetitions or clichés. You can shoot equally well on both digital and film. The main thing is what you pay attention to while photographing. It’s important for me to create a few good shots that I can add to my archive and later to a book. I try to minimize repetitions. For me, shooting the war is like a marathon that I need to run, capturing quality images. Sometimes it feels like I've hit a plateau, moving on the same plane and unable to create anything new. Then an interesting theme arises, along with the feeling that I'm moving forward and continuing to climb.
— You have published a book called "Bolinchik"—a surreal story about the work of medical personnel, filled with harsh medical humor. Currently, you are shooting a series of photos about the work of forensic experts. How much does this shooting serve as a continuation of "Bolinchik"?
— The new series of photographs is somewhat like "Bolinchik Afterparty." It’s a continuation of that theme, but the imagery is completely different. The work of forensic experts also breaks down into smaller themes. Even the work of a forensic expert is very diverse. When I photographed the exhumation in Izium, it was already the work of forensic experts—first at the cemetery, and then in the autopsy room. Specialists prepare the bodies for release to relatives and loved ones, respond to strikes, murders, and suicides. If you dig deep into this topic, it can open up significant opportunities for shooting and may lead to a historically important project. Of course, the subject is very closed, but it’s important to document it for history and for the archive.
I worked as a maxillofacial surgeon, and this helps when photographing forensic experts. I understand what is happening at any given moment. It’s easier for me to process what I see; I can distance myself from the smells, I don't experience internal shock, and I approach the work of medical personnel calmly. When you shoot a topic like this a lot, it also becomes something everyday. I try to find beauty in this entire process and in the work of these people. Doctors ask what I want to capture, and they are surprised that there is an aesthetic in their work as well. I shot for a month, then another, printed the photographs, created an album, and gifted it to the forensic experts. They looked at it and were delighted; they saw that it was indeed beautiful. At first, some doctors didn’t want me to photograph them, but later they asked why they weren’t included in the pictures.
During my shoots with forensic experts, I have seen many different things. Often, these are the bodies of soldiers who were working just yesterday, and today they lie on the tables. I catch myself thinking about how healthy these guys are. Yet they are no longer healthy; they simply no longer exist. I once noticed a tattoo on a body—a face of Christ. It turns out, Jesus is dead. On the tables lie people with various causes of death: some have hanged themselves, some have been electrocuted, and next to them is a burned tank driver. Of course, it’s impossible not to think about this afterward.
— Please tell us about the book you are currently working on.
— The book will be titled "Documentation of the War." Right now, I am selecting photographs that I will soon send to the designer of my publishing house. I want to choose at least 100–150 images that definitely need to be included in the book. I plan to include my texts in the publication, but I’m still unsure if they will be in English only, or in both English and Ukrainian. It’s important for me to preserve the meaning and artistic style of the writing. Thanks to the support of the Ukrainian Cultural Foundation, I purchased materials for shooting and had the opportunity to photograph various aspects of the Russian-Ukrainian war. I work here, on my own land, and I very much hope for our victory.
The material was worked on:
Topic researcher, text author: Katya Moskaliuk
Photo editor: Vyacheslav Ratynskyi
Literary editor: Yulia Futei
Website manager: Vladislav Kukhar
Photographer and artist Vladislav Krasnoshchek, a representative of the new wave of the Kharkiv School of Photography, continues to document the Russian-Ukrainian war. At the beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion, he captured the situation in his native Kharkiv and traveled with volunteers to the front line. He is working on authorial projects, the themes of which are united in a comprehensive chronicle of the war. Vlad spoke about the specifics of shooting the war on film, documenting the work of army aviation brigades and forensic experts, and why it is important to continue working on topics that cannot be immediately published in the media.
— When did you start documenting the full-scale war? What were the initial shots like?
— Documenting the war was, it seemed, an unattainable dream of mine. However, I never thought that a war would ever come to Ukraine, that it would be possible to photograph it. But the war came to our home, and I started photographing it.
I needed accreditation to photograph the war. At the beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion, people with cameras or mobile phones were simply at risk. Everyone thought that if you photographed a location, something would immediately hit it… I started with shots of anti-tank hedgehogs, destruction in my hometown, and burning Russian equipment here in Kharkiv. I photographed everything that was possible to try to capture at that time.
I didn’t think about the benefits of these shoots. For me, it was important in terms of documenting history and creating an archive. I divided this war into separate aspects for myself: I shoot one topic, then move on to the next, and keep the photos in my archive. I can return to previously shot topics to capture better images. When working on a book, I will simply select the most visually impactful pictures for each topic. Sometimes, I just try to compete with myself to capture the best shots.
— Besides the photographs documenting the full-scale invasion, you also write texts that serve as a diary of a war photographer. In one such piece, you mention a trip to Severodonetsk. Could you please share what kind of shots you brought back from there?
— At first, I always went out for shoots with volunteers or friends who had some kind of access to places where you could get some shots. The volunteers brought essential supplies to the locals or the military, and I traveled with them while trying to photograph at the same time. Early in the full-scale war, this way I managed to get to Lysychansk and then to Severodonetsk. By that time, local battles had already started, and I was surprised that volunteers even went there. When it was very dangerous, these people brought cat food to Severodonetsk. The situation there was such that it seemed almost impossible to take photos. Everything happened very quickly. The trip was more about remembering my feelings and everything that was going on there.
Of course, I managed to get a few shots. But my main thought was how to get out of there quickly while the bridges were still intact. By the way, the bridges were destroyed that same day, but we managed to leave before that happened. Otherwise, we would have had to float down the Siversky Donets River with the camera and then walk a long way on foot.
— How important and possible is it not to repeat oneself?
— "I think every photographer has repetitions. When it comes to documenting the war, everyone is repeating themselves, and capturing something that you or someone else hasn't captured before is very difficult. It seems that everyone has reached a standstill. All possible themes have already been covered by everyone, and photographers, to some extent, are shooting 'stamps.' For example, if there are casualties after a strike on a city, the shot will typically include: some blanket, a hand, a leg, a manicure, and in the background, parts of destroyed vehicles, someone lying down, and smoke... All photographers shoot this. I'm not saying it's unnecessary; on the contrary, it's important to document. However, it's much harder to capture something new, surreal, and unlike any shot that you or anyone else has taken before."
I don't often photograph missile strikes on Kharkiv. I don't always have the opportunity to go when I'm occupied with other matters or work. Additionally, I don't need to produce news or reports that need to be quickly delivered to agencies or editorial offices. When I have a personal sense that it's necessary to document the aftermath of a rocket strike, then I go and work at the site of the impact.
— What aspects of the full-scale war would you be interested in photographing?
— In my opinion, valuable shots can be taken anywhere you find yourself. The only difficulty is obtaining permission to shoot in certain places. I have a desire to photograph many different subjects, but access is not always available. Of course, there are journalists and photographers who don't face these problems. However, most Ukrainian documentarians encounter difficulties.
I had the chance to photograph forensic experts at work. But it's such a closed topic: I haven’t published any of the material yet, and I might not publish it at all. It’s more of a 'private collection' of sorts. Perhaps, in a few years, this work might be shown somewhere, and some of these shots could be included in my future photo book or become part of a separate photo book. Sometimes, when you delve into a topic for a long time and research it thoroughly, the work can turn into a book.
— You are currently filming an army aviation brigade. Could you please tell us when you started working on this topic?
— I've been filming army aviation for a year now and see that I’ve gathered so much material that it will also be a separate book. Whenever I have time, I write requests and inquire whether it’s possible to visit them. I got to know the brigade through pilot and captain Dmytro. I followed his Instagram page and asked if it would be possible to film the guys someday. Dmytro found out from his commanders the best way to do it and what request needed to be written. I visited the pilots, got acquainted, filmed, became friends with them, and started gradually gathering material. Then the idea came to create a separate story about army aviation.
At first, the guys were cautious of me. But then, when they saw the photos I had printed for them, they began to trust me. It’s much easier to photograph when you immerse yourself in a particular environment and aren’t seen as an outsider. Then, you shoot as if from within the system; they don’t feel self-conscious, they do their work, and you do yours — taking photos. People stop noticing you, and this relaxed atmosphere can later be captured in the shots.
I photograph the preparation of aircraft, missile loading, how pilots go on missions and return. Sometimes I'm also interested in capturing their everyday life. A few times, I’ve had the chance to fly with the guys when I got permission. It’s also interesting to go with the aviation navigators to the firing site and find out how everything happens, to work on that specific topic.
— How often do you print photos for the pilots?
— Whenever I have the chance, I always try to send the guys photos. It’s also important to me that they pass these photos to their commanders and decide which ones can be published and which should remain private for now. Recently, I made a set of postcards from the army aviation shoots. I had them printed in Kharkiv, and the design was done by a friend of mine. I selected forty photos and wrote a story that is on each postcard. I gave the sets to the pilots so they could have this memory. I included a QR code on the postcards that people could use to donate money to the brigade. It’s important that my photos are useful to the guys.
The postcards can be bought or people can use the QR code to transfer money directly to the pilots. I shared this information on my social media. I’m sure that 90% of the postcards will be bought by people working on topics related to the full-scale war and those generally interested in photography.
— You often mention photo books in our conversation. Why is this medium important to you?
— A book is something that will remain both after the war and after we are gone. It’s a way to preserve memory. Right now, these neighbors are firing missiles and rockets, and a book is a way to save the captured material. If a building with photographs and negatives is hit, the archive could be destroyed or lost. However, if there is a book, there will be a memory. It’s a way to preserve stories about what happened. When someone buys a book, and if the photos are evocative and interesting, they provide an idea of what was happening at a certain time. Of course, it’s impossible to photograph and fit all the topics of a full-scale war into one book, no matter how hard you try.
I recently thought that not all the aspects of the war captured can actually make it into the book. Some shots might visually stand out from the overall picture. You can photograph something during the war, but if the image doesn’t show the connection to the war, it could be mistaken for something taken before or after the conflict — it lacks a visual marker. For example, photographing prisoners of war might look like shooting people in a prison serving a sentence. This topic is difficult to depict in a way that is understood from the photograph alone. I want the photos that will be included in my future book to have a clear connection to the Russian-Ukrainian war.
Also, to preserve my archive, I transfer photographs to the Museum of Kharkiv School of Photography (MOKSOP). My long-time friend Serhiy Lebedynskyi took over two tons of negatives and photographs abroad. This is also one of the aspects of preserving this history about the war. When I pass the photos to Serhiy, they make their way to Europe, where they are safe for now. The museum is constantly hosting various events and exhibitions, and this is also one way to remind people that the war in Ukraine is still ongoing.
— Is it possible to maintain interest in the events in Ukraine through photography?
— This is one of the lines of support that works. People need to see photographs taken during the full-scale war. I wouldn’t say it’s the primary source of information about the war, but still, it is one of them. Recently, at a missile strike site in Kharkiv, a soldier or policeman tried to chase away the press. One of the photographers said he wouldn’t leave because it was necessary to document and show this to the world so that we could continue to receive weapons and ensure effective air defense. Of course, I understand there are restricted locations for filming, but in this case, the photographer was right.
— How aesthetic can the war in the frame be? For you, is war photography about documenting events or art?
— I look at shooting from an artistic point of view. News photographers need to show the events as harshly as possible so that it impacts people and prompts them to help us financially and with weapons. For me, it’s important that these shots are valuable from an artistic perspective and remain part of history. Sometimes people accuse me of aestheticizing war. I take it calmly. I don’t really think about whether I romanticize war or not. My main task is to create a visually compelling image that engages the viewer. It’s important for a photographer to have a visual language, a recognizable style. If you look at war photos now, 90% of the shots are very similar, they have a similar language. Sometimes it’s very hard to identify the photographer by just the picture.
The visual component is very important to me. I try to create an image where everything comes together and results in something expressive. When I return from a shoot, my first feeling is that I've photographed nothing but nonsense again. I develop the film, quickly scan it, and immediately don't like anything. This happens because there's no time gap between the shoot and the moment I print the photos. My eye gets tired, and everything looks bad to me; it doesn't match my feelings from the events because I just saw it yesterday. I need time to pass so I can realize what I’ve photographed.
Sometimes I show the material to friends to get their feedback on the images. They have a fresh perspective, as they weren’t present at the shoot, and they might notice something new. Their feedback is especially important to me in the first few days after I print everything. A month or six months later, I can evaluate my photos on my own. By then, I’ve distanced myself from the situation and can clearly see which shots are worth choosing. Even if I end up picking just two frames from an entire shoot—that's already a win.
Sometimes I have several shoots in a row, and I don't have time to print the first rolls of film. When I get a break from shooting, I can calmly go through my archive. I take A4 paper, mark the folder number, and note how many frames I want to print. While we used to rely on contact sheets, now I just look at the scanned negatives and select the frames. Then I choose a day to work in the darkroom and start developing the prints.
— What is the peculiarity of shooting the war on film? Does this method of documentation help avoid photographic "clichés"?
— The peculiarity of shooting on film is that I completely control the entire process—from developing to printing. I like that. Another advantage is that film is a physical thing. If there are large-scale blackouts, at least I will still have the negatives and photographs. Moreover, film-based photos and negatives can serve as evidence for documenting war crimes. No one will be able to claim it’s fake. Shooting on film is something I’m used to and something I find interesting to work with.
When I go on a shoot, I take enough film so I don’t have to think about running out. If it's a busy day with a lot going on, I’ll definitely use up ten rolls. When things are relatively calm, I don’t rush, and I spend more time thinking about each shot, so I use less film.
Sometimes my photographs are compared to images from World War I or World War II. Those were wars captured on black-and-white film, so perhaps such comparisons are inevitable. However, when you shoot on color film, associations with the present time arise, allowing room for experimentation. I constantly add and change things when shooting on film. At first, I photographed in the standard format, then switched to panoramic format, and later to medium format. I try to juggle different film formats, experiment with color, and test various printing methods. I’m always interested in what I’m doing. I always have the opportunity to change the way I work with film and print photographs.
The method of documentation does not allow for avoiding repetitions or clichés. You can shoot equally well on both digital and film. The main thing is what you pay attention to while photographing. It’s important for me to create a few good shots that I can add to my archive and later to a book. I try to minimize repetitions. For me, shooting the war is like a marathon that I need to run, capturing quality images. Sometimes it feels like I've hit a plateau, moving on the same plane and unable to create anything new. Then an interesting theme arises, along with the feeling that I'm moving forward and continuing to climb.
— You have published a book called "Bolinchik"—a surreal story about the work of medical personnel, filled with harsh medical humor. Currently, you are shooting a series of photos about the work of forensic experts. How much does this shooting serve as a continuation of "Bolinchik"?
— The new series of photographs is somewhat like "Bolinchik Afterparty." It’s a continuation of that theme, but the imagery is completely different. The work of forensic experts also breaks down into smaller themes. Even the work of a forensic expert is very diverse. When I photographed the exhumation in Izium, it was already the work of forensic experts—first at the cemetery, and then in the autopsy room. Specialists prepare the bodies for release to relatives and loved ones, respond to strikes, murders, and suicides. If you dig deep into this topic, it can open up significant opportunities for shooting and may lead to a historically important project. Of course, the subject is very closed, but it’s important to document it for history and for the archive.
I worked as a maxillofacial surgeon, and this helps when photographing forensic experts. I understand what is happening at any given moment. It’s easier for me to process what I see; I can distance myself from the smells, I don't experience internal shock, and I approach the work of medical personnel calmly. When you shoot a topic like this a lot, it also becomes something everyday. I try to find beauty in this entire process and in the work of these people. Doctors ask what I want to capture, and they are surprised that there is an aesthetic in their work as well. I shot for a month, then another, printed the photographs, created an album, and gifted it to the forensic experts. They looked at it and were delighted; they saw that it was indeed beautiful. At first, some doctors didn’t want me to photograph them, but later they asked why they weren’t included in the pictures.
During my shoots with forensic experts, I have seen many different things. Often, these are the bodies of soldiers who were working just yesterday, and today they lie on the tables. I catch myself thinking about how healthy these guys are. Yet they are no longer healthy; they simply no longer exist. I once noticed a tattoo on a body—a face of Christ. It turns out, Jesus is dead. On the tables lie people with various causes of death: some have hanged themselves, some have been electrocuted, and next to them is a burned tank driver. Of course, it’s impossible not to think about this afterward.
— Please tell us about the book you are currently working on.
— The book will be titled "Documentation of the War." Right now, I am selecting photographs that I will soon send to the designer of my publishing house. I want to choose at least 100–150 images that definitely need to be included in the book. I plan to include my texts in the publication, but I’m still unsure if they will be in English only, or in both English and Ukrainian. It’s important for me to preserve the meaning and artistic style of the writing. Thanks to the support of the Ukrainian Cultural Foundation, I purchased materials for shooting and had the opportunity to photograph various aspects of the Russian-Ukrainian war. I work here, on my own land, and I very much hope for our victory.
The material was worked on:
Topic researcher, text author: Katya Moskaliuk
Photo editor: Vyacheslav Ratynskyi
Literary editor: Yulia Futei
Website manager: Vladislav Kukhar
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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