Lviv photographer Yurko Dyachyshyn has been documenting life during the war since the first hours of the full-scale Russian invasion. He specifically captures how the familiar landscapes of his hometown, Lviv, are changing under the aggressive impact of war. Yurko Dyachyshyn shared his thoughts on working on the War Nouveau project, the limits of aesthetics during wartime, and why he doesn't believe that a single photograph can stop a war, though he hopes he is wrong.
— When did you start documenting the full-scale Russo-Ukrainian war?
— I began photographing the full-scale war literally from the first hours. The first subjects were queues at ATMs and gas stations. At that moment, it was completely unclear how events would unfold and how long it would all last. It was hard to even imagine the scale of the challenges our country would have to face.
— What aspects of the full-scale war do you think are important to preserve and document?
— It's important to capture all aspects of the war and everything possible, down to the smallest details. Themes and events that seem secondary and insignificant now may hold great value even after a short period of time.
— How can you depict the war in your hometown of Lviv, which is far from the front line, through photographs? What markers of war are present in your photos?
— Of course, the visual imagery and markers of the rear are different. However, there are many, both obvious and subtle. For example, a well-understood and visible marker is the military cemetery located near the city center, as well as the funerals of soldiers and civilians who died in the war.
— How possible is it to comprehend and experience the trauma left by a full-scale war in order to reflect on it through photographs?
— In my opinion, it’s very individual. Some artists respond immediately, while others may reflect on it some time later or even many years after the war ends.
— Are the photographs you take during the war a document of the times or a subjective expression?
— Photographs are a subjective document. Everything in the world is subjective! Every author, journalist, editor, curator, or politician has their personal perspective on everything. It all depends on what "window" you’re looking through—whether it’s the window of a tank's gunner or a Ferrari, from a hospital window or a hotel at a resort, etc. My subjective view of a tragic event in my country may differ from that of a photographer in New York, for example.
— To what extent can photography be aesthetic if we are talking about preserving the memory of tragic events?
— There can be no aesthetic boundaries if we are talking about preserving the memory of tragic events. Otherwise, we would enter into a discussion about the limits of aesthetics in photographs of concentration camps during World War II. Aesthetics and its boundaries can be a topic of discussion in a comfortable and peaceful time! Today in our country, we are living in an in-aesthetic and unethical time. Some people live by the rules of wartime, and their aesthetic boundaries are appropriate, while others "pretend" to live in a different territory and time, "demanding" a different aesthetic. The perception of aesthetics in Kharkiv and Mariupol may differ and may not be interpreted the same way as in Lviv, and even more so in Luxembourg. Aesthetics or anti-aesthetics are not obligatory for consumption, so there is no definition or standard. Only place and time matter.
— Many photographers, both Ukrainian and foreign, are currently capturing the full-scale war in Ukraine. Do you think certain "stamps" or clichés have emerged in the photography? How difficult is it to capture something new right now?
— The full-scale Russo-Ukrainian war is not the first conflict photographers have worked on. "Stamps" were established a long time ago; only the decorations and elements present in the frame change. The technology and speed of information dissemination have evolved, especially with the large number of amateur photos and videos taken with smartphones. Speed is probably one of the main "stamps" today. Another aspect is the perception of acceptable limits for photo editing: blurred images have become visually familiar, and their use by "trendsetters" also shapes certain templates and their boundaries.
When it comes to creative approaches, there is always something new to find, regardless of how much has already been done up to this moment. The very changes in settings and the timing of events also set a new tone, vision, and meaning.
— Could you please tell us when you took the first photograph in the War Nouveau series? When did you decide to combine these images into a project?
— I started photographing as soon as these objects (sandbags, windows taped with duct tape, protective structures around sculptures, etc.) appeared on the streets of Lviv in the first days of the full-scale Russian invasion. These objects became obvious elements of the aggressive transformation of the surrounding space. For a long time, it was just documentation—a kind of collection. Initially, these newly created objects were constant unpleasant triggers: every time they caught my eye, they reminded me of the war. However, over time, just like with other things, you start to get used to them and see them as part of the established architectural elements.
When I began to perceive these objects as permanent architectural forms, I even started to find some of them "appealing," developing personal favorites. It seemed as if they were an inseparable part of the facade, and that it had always been this way—it’s now hard to imagine the urban space without sandbags. That’s when I began to shape this series and pay closer attention to simple and unpretentious forms that might seem ordinary at first glance, observing how they deteriorate over time or how they are patched up, reinforced, or repaired, yet they still remain. I started searching for various allegories and references to convey something deeper.
— Why the name War Nouveau?
— War Nouveau (a play on words combining "War" and "Art Nouveau") is a term I coined for a fictional "architectural style," specifically for protective temporary structures (most often sandbags) that have now become part of the new urban landscape as a stable architectural form surrounding us.
— Could you please explain why the series is shot in monochrome? Did you initially envision the War Nouveau project as black-and-white?
— Initially, I created a selection in color and didn’t want to stray from a strictly documentary visual language. However, I couldn't accept that version and postponed the series for a long time. Later, I made a simple monochrome black-and-white version, which I liked even less, and again put those works aside. Then I tried to approach it with a certain decorative quality and viewed the photos with squinted eyes, as if from a disturbing "dream," making them aggressively contrasting with pronounced vignetting. At that point, I felt the series come together and realized I could convey certain messages to the viewer. I don’t actually position War Nouveau as a documentary project tied to Lviv, but rather as more abstract with broader implications.
— I found a comment on your social media that one of the images in the War Nouveau project reminds a viewer of Michelangelo's sculpture "Pietà." How much of this is coincidence or happenstance? What meanings do you embed in these photographs?
— It might be a coincidence, or perhaps it's a result of my exposure to various classical works that influences my choice of frames. In any case, I’m pleased that I'm not the only one imagining and seeing something beyond just a sandbag or the tape holding plastic sheeting together.
— When will the project be completed, and do you plan to create a photobook or an exhibition of the War Nouveau series?
— You could say that the project is already complete. Of course, I will continue to photograph and add new works, replacing old ones with others as I see fit. Regarding an exhibition, I will organize it at the first favorable opportunity or proposal that comes my way.
— How important is it, and is it possible, to maintain interest in the war in Ukraine through photography? Which images do you think resonate best with foreign audiences?
— This has been discussed many times—the fatigue of audiences in other countries regarding the war and the information about it. We need to seek new forms and approaches, so to speak, paths to the heart. Often, we don’t know which photo, at what time, and for whom might have an impact on their decision-making. We must use all means to break through this "wall." Unfortunately, I am one of those photographers who doesn’t believe that one photo can stop a war. However, secretly, I really hope I’m wrong.
— What inspires you to keep working right now?
— I don’t have much enthusiasm—everything seems meaningless. However, I often repeat the saying: "Everything that is currently postponed is automatically lost." So I’ve taken this as my motto, which pushes me to try to think and create something.
The material was worked on by:
Researcher and author: Katya Moskalyuk
Photo editor: Vyacheslav Ratynskyi
Literary editor: Yulia Futei
Website manager: Vladislav Kukhаr
Lviv photographer Yurko Dyachyshyn has been documenting life during the war since the first hours of the full-scale Russian invasion. He specifically captures how the familiar landscapes of his hometown, Lviv, are changing under the aggressive impact of war. Yurko Dyachyshyn shared his thoughts on working on the War Nouveau project, the limits of aesthetics during wartime, and why he doesn't believe that a single photograph can stop a war, though he hopes he is wrong.
— When did you start documenting the full-scale Russo-Ukrainian war?
— I began photographing the full-scale war literally from the first hours. The first subjects were queues at ATMs and gas stations. At that moment, it was completely unclear how events would unfold and how long it would all last. It was hard to even imagine the scale of the challenges our country would have to face.
— What aspects of the full-scale war do you think are important to preserve and document?
— It's important to capture all aspects of the war and everything possible, down to the smallest details. Themes and events that seem secondary and insignificant now may hold great value even after a short period of time.
— How can you depict the war in your hometown of Lviv, which is far from the front line, through photographs? What markers of war are present in your photos?
— Of course, the visual imagery and markers of the rear are different. However, there are many, both obvious and subtle. For example, a well-understood and visible marker is the military cemetery located near the city center, as well as the funerals of soldiers and civilians who died in the war.
— How possible is it to comprehend and experience the trauma left by a full-scale war in order to reflect on it through photographs?
— In my opinion, it’s very individual. Some artists respond immediately, while others may reflect on it some time later or even many years after the war ends.
— Are the photographs you take during the war a document of the times or a subjective expression?
— Photographs are a subjective document. Everything in the world is subjective! Every author, journalist, editor, curator, or politician has their personal perspective on everything. It all depends on what "window" you’re looking through—whether it’s the window of a tank's gunner or a Ferrari, from a hospital window or a hotel at a resort, etc. My subjective view of a tragic event in my country may differ from that of a photographer in New York, for example.
— To what extent can photography be aesthetic if we are talking about preserving the memory of tragic events?
— There can be no aesthetic boundaries if we are talking about preserving the memory of tragic events. Otherwise, we would enter into a discussion about the limits of aesthetics in photographs of concentration camps during World War II. Aesthetics and its boundaries can be a topic of discussion in a comfortable and peaceful time! Today in our country, we are living in an in-aesthetic and unethical time. Some people live by the rules of wartime, and their aesthetic boundaries are appropriate, while others "pretend" to live in a different territory and time, "demanding" a different aesthetic. The perception of aesthetics in Kharkiv and Mariupol may differ and may not be interpreted the same way as in Lviv, and even more so in Luxembourg. Aesthetics or anti-aesthetics are not obligatory for consumption, so there is no definition or standard. Only place and time matter.
— Many photographers, both Ukrainian and foreign, are currently capturing the full-scale war in Ukraine. Do you think certain "stamps" or clichés have emerged in the photography? How difficult is it to capture something new right now?
— The full-scale Russo-Ukrainian war is not the first conflict photographers have worked on. "Stamps" were established a long time ago; only the decorations and elements present in the frame change. The technology and speed of information dissemination have evolved, especially with the large number of amateur photos and videos taken with smartphones. Speed is probably one of the main "stamps" today. Another aspect is the perception of acceptable limits for photo editing: blurred images have become visually familiar, and their use by "trendsetters" also shapes certain templates and their boundaries.
When it comes to creative approaches, there is always something new to find, regardless of how much has already been done up to this moment. The very changes in settings and the timing of events also set a new tone, vision, and meaning.
— Could you please tell us when you took the first photograph in the War Nouveau series? When did you decide to combine these images into a project?
— I started photographing as soon as these objects (sandbags, windows taped with duct tape, protective structures around sculptures, etc.) appeared on the streets of Lviv in the first days of the full-scale Russian invasion. These objects became obvious elements of the aggressive transformation of the surrounding space. For a long time, it was just documentation—a kind of collection. Initially, these newly created objects were constant unpleasant triggers: every time they caught my eye, they reminded me of the war. However, over time, just like with other things, you start to get used to them and see them as part of the established architectural elements.
When I began to perceive these objects as permanent architectural forms, I even started to find some of them "appealing," developing personal favorites. It seemed as if they were an inseparable part of the facade, and that it had always been this way—it’s now hard to imagine the urban space without sandbags. That’s when I began to shape this series and pay closer attention to simple and unpretentious forms that might seem ordinary at first glance, observing how they deteriorate over time or how they are patched up, reinforced, or repaired, yet they still remain. I started searching for various allegories and references to convey something deeper.
— Why the name War Nouveau?
— War Nouveau (a play on words combining "War" and "Art Nouveau") is a term I coined for a fictional "architectural style," specifically for protective temporary structures (most often sandbags) that have now become part of the new urban landscape as a stable architectural form surrounding us.
— Could you please explain why the series is shot in monochrome? Did you initially envision the War Nouveau project as black-and-white?
— Initially, I created a selection in color and didn’t want to stray from a strictly documentary visual language. However, I couldn't accept that version and postponed the series for a long time. Later, I made a simple monochrome black-and-white version, which I liked even less, and again put those works aside. Then I tried to approach it with a certain decorative quality and viewed the photos with squinted eyes, as if from a disturbing "dream," making them aggressively contrasting with pronounced vignetting. At that point, I felt the series come together and realized I could convey certain messages to the viewer. I don’t actually position War Nouveau as a documentary project tied to Lviv, but rather as more abstract with broader implications.
— I found a comment on your social media that one of the images in the War Nouveau project reminds a viewer of Michelangelo's sculpture "Pietà." How much of this is coincidence or happenstance? What meanings do you embed in these photographs?
— It might be a coincidence, or perhaps it's a result of my exposure to various classical works that influences my choice of frames. In any case, I’m pleased that I'm not the only one imagining and seeing something beyond just a sandbag or the tape holding plastic sheeting together.
— When will the project be completed, and do you plan to create a photobook or an exhibition of the War Nouveau series?
— You could say that the project is already complete. Of course, I will continue to photograph and add new works, replacing old ones with others as I see fit. Regarding an exhibition, I will organize it at the first favorable opportunity or proposal that comes my way.
— How important is it, and is it possible, to maintain interest in the war in Ukraine through photography? Which images do you think resonate best with foreign audiences?
— This has been discussed many times—the fatigue of audiences in other countries regarding the war and the information about it. We need to seek new forms and approaches, so to speak, paths to the heart. Often, we don’t know which photo, at what time, and for whom might have an impact on their decision-making. We must use all means to break through this "wall." Unfortunately, I am one of those photographers who doesn’t believe that one photo can stop a war. However, secretly, I really hope I’m wrong.
— What inspires you to keep working right now?
— I don’t have much enthusiasm—everything seems meaningless. However, I often repeat the saying: "Everything that is currently postponed is automatically lost." So I’ve taken this as my motto, which pushes me to try to think and create something.
The material was worked on by:
Researcher and author: Katya Moskalyuk
Photo editor: Vyacheslav Ratynskyi
Literary editor: Yulia Futei
Website manager: Vladislav Kukhаr
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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