“The Art of War, or Rules for Caring for a Machine Gun” and other projects by Dmytro Kupriyan

Dmytro Kupriyan is a photographer, soldier and artist, as well as a new member of the Ukrainian Association of Professional Photographers, who sees beauty even in the most difficult circumstances. His lens captures not only the moments of war, but also its consequences for people, places and history. In this interview for UAPF, Dmytro talks about his unique projects, his path from media to art, and how photography helps preserve memory and rethink reality.

Dmytro's projects:

“Tortured” - photos dedicated to the problem of torture and violence in the Ukrainian police.

“Fragments of War” is a series of scans of shrapnel that symbolize the connection between people and a new reality.

“36 Views of Hoverla” is a series of photographs inspired by the prints of Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai, which reinterprets the symbolism of Hoverla.

“When the war is over” is a project with projections of inscriptions on bombed-out buildings, which makes us think about the end of the war.

Scans for the project about the “banality of aggression” are a metaphor for the everyday violence in the modern world.

“Home” is a series that explores the rethinking of the human environment through a combination of landscapes and architecture.

“The Art of War, or Rules for Caring for an Assault Rifle” is a project that uses black and white photographs to tell the story of the daily monotonous actions of the military necessary for survival, inspired by Sun Tzu's book The Art of War.

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— Tell us, what do you consider yourself to be now? A photographer, a documentary filmmaker, a soldier, or do you have another definition?

— I am currently a military man, although I am also engaged in art, in particular photography. As an artist, it is very important for me to gain a variety of experiences, and not only theoretical ones, for example, from books. My experience in the army opened up new horizons for me: a different community, a different environment. It is an opportunity to observe, explore, and learn something unique from this experience. Now I am working on rethinking this military experience through the lens of photography.

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— How long has photography been a part of your life? Is it a hobby or a profession?

— I've been doing photography since 2008, when I started working on projects. Before that, I was also involved in photography - I worked for various news agencies: first at UNIAN, before that at URA-inform, and even earlier at the Pension Courier newspaper. At one point, he even had experience working in the tabloid press. I was chasing Timati, filming him, and once got a beating from Philip Kirkorov's bodyguards. It was an experience that I definitely won't forget.

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— Were you a paparazzi?  

— Yes, you could say that.

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— You started in media and then moved to art. How did this transition take place in your life?

— I resigned from several media outlets where I worked, and at that time I met Cossacks from the Spas boat (a Cossack boat built and launched in 2006 - ed.) We planned to cross the Atlantic Ocean, and before that we went to Georgia and back. It was a period of search: I returned to Kyiv, had no job, and had to decide what to do next. Then I thought about how to develop photography, where to go next. I started to look at what others were doing, to comprehend new approaches, project thinking, and research.

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The idea for the project came from my lawyer, Oleh Veremeenko, who helped me in court after a conflict with Kirkorov's security. He told me about the American Innocence Project, which reviews unjust verdicts. We decided to create something similar in Ukraine, and that's how the Tortured project came about. I researched the cases of people who were imprisoned on trumped-up charges, especially in the period from 2000 to 2010, because this data could still be found. This project was an important milestone for me.

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— What exactly did you photograph as part of this project? How did it look visually?

— I tried to visually connect people with the places where they were charged with crimes or where they experienced key moments in their lives. For example, we went to the places where they were tortured or where, according to the investigation, the crime allegedly took place.

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There were also moments when a person had just been released from prison, and we filmed them starting a new life, for example, building a house.

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Sometimes I had to take photos directly in prisons if the person was still there. Even if the place of torture was inaccessible, I tried to convey the story through the circumstances in which the person lived or was at that time.

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— What messages did you want to convey through this project? Why do you think this work was needed?

— The main message was to show the massive and widespread inhuman treatment in the police at that time. This affected many people: everyone could have acquaintances, neighbors or friends who were tortured or faced injustice. The police and investigators often fabricated cases and received their own “bonuses” from this, and it became a systemic phenomenon.

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My goal was not to overcome this problem through photography, but to draw attention to it. My works were used during various actions and events. For example, they were shown during the Vradiyivka procession on Independence Square, at forums in Lviv where prosecutors, lawyers, and students gathered. The photographs were also exhibited at the Cinema House and even at UN events dedicated to human rights. It was a way to document the problem, bring it to a wider audience, and leave a visual legacy for those who are willing to fight for change.

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— Did you implement this project when you were a police officer or when you were already a police officer? How do you evaluate it from the perspective of 2025? Have your views on that work changed?

— I implemented this project when there was still a police force, from 2009 to 2013. It was a social project aimed at drawing attention to the problem. I can't say that it changed the system, but back then I was doing what I thought was important and necessary. I filmed, documented, and commented.

Now, from the distance of 2025, I look at this work and realize that, first of all, the country has really changed a lot, we have a different police force, but many issues are still relevant. As for my interaction with the police, I was often asked if they tried to put pressure on me in any way. No, they never called or contacted me. It even seems funny and sad at the same time now.

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— How did you come up with the idea to create the 36 Views of Hoverla project? How many times have you been to Hoverla?

— I've been to Hoverla 5 times, but I've been hiking 21 times. The idea to create the project arose back in 2008 when I saw the book “36 Types of Fuji” by Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai. Then I thought, why not do something similar about Hoverla? But I postponed the realization until 2017. That was the first time I went to Hoverla as part of this project.

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The title “36 Views of Hoverla” is a direct reference to Hokusai's work. In my photos there are many visual references to his style: the mountain in the middle of the frame, the middle and foreground. Initially, I created 38 photographs, but later I kept only those that really corresponded to my vision. The project became a kind of relaxation for me and a way to switch to something beautiful after heavy social topics.

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— What does Hoverla look like in your photos? Did you shoot it from different angles and how did you work on the technical part of the project?

— In my photos, Hoverla is shown in different ways, but in reality it cannot be seen from all sides. Although it is the highest point in Ukraine, it is only 40-50 meters higher than the neighboring peaks of the Chornohora ridge. It is visible from certain points: from the Lazeshchyna side, the ridge itself, or neighboring peaks. But often other peaks, forests, or terrain block the view of the mountain. So I had to experiment: look for streams, interesting locations to find a new view of Hoverla.

One of the first photos, for example, shows the reflection of Hoverla in a narrow stream in the Kukul meadow. Although this stream is very narrow - only 10-15 centimeters - it looks like a wide river in the photo.

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But it was difficult to find unique angles, because mountain meadows are often monotonous: one has cows, the other has sheep.

Unlike Hokusai's 36 Views of Fuji project, which described the whole of Japan through the symbol of a mountain, this is impossible with Hoverla. It is visible only in the Carpathians, so it can only represent this region, not the whole of Ukraine, which is very diverse.

As for the technical part, these are black-and-white photos printed in a dark room with a regular enlarger. The printing was done first by Artem Yanets and later by Oleg Sukhaparov. Then I hand-colored the photos with oil paints. Only one of them was colored with watercolors. I processed the last photo in 2022, while I was already in the military registration and enlistment office. It was my way of completing the project even in such conditions.

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— Why did you want to finish the photos, add colors? What motivated you to do so?

— It was a kind of method of self-soothing, of slowing down, a process that allowed me to immerse myself in the work. I wanted to create a methodical appeal to Katsushika Hokusai's prints, where every detail is created very carefully: you cut out the plates, put them together, and if something doesn't match, you have to start over. For me, it was a new method that I wanted to learn.

Many people have compared my technique to the Kharkiv school of photography, and perhaps visually it is somewhat similar. But at the same time, I feel that this work is much more precise and has a different narrative, a different semantic content.

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— Are there any projects from before your current service in the Armed Forces that you would like to highlight? How do they help to divide your life and creative path into stages?

— In fact, it's hard to divide my life into stages, because my art and military service went hand in hand. Before the current mobilization, I was already in the army in 2015-2016, when I served in the communications troops. During this period and afterwards, I filmed projects, including those dedicated to the war. One of these projects was Fragments of War, where I created black-and-white photographs with barely visible fragments - fragments that united people into a new reality. My friend, the photographer Max Dondyuk, saw these works and pushed me to describe the situations in which I found these fragments and the people who were around me. That's how a self-made book appeared.

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After demobilization, Max and I went to Donbas. There, he worked on his White Project, and I created a project where I projected inscriptions in Ukrainian and English on bombed-out buildings: “When will the war end?” or ‘When is the war over?’. These were kind of installations that I documented through photographs. One example is the inscriptions on the bombed-out building of a trade union or pension fund in the center of Lysychansk. I remember that in the evening, while I was working, the police drove past us-they stopped, looked, but didn't say anything and drove on. We ended up with 11 or 14 photos.

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Another project I worked on was scans of weapon cleaning rags. This project became a metaphor for the “banality of aggression” by analogy to Hannah Arendt's concept of the “banality of evil.” I described how aggression has taken root in everyday life and has become an acceptable way to resolve conflicts, even in everyday life. The project had two parts: for a global audience (with global examples of aggression) and for a Ukrainian audience (with descriptions of cases of aggression against children, animals, in everyday life, etc.)

These projects have become a way for me to explore, record, and comprehend the reality we live in.

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— Google says that you returned to military service at the very beginning of the full-scale invasion. How did this happen and how has your service developed to date?

— Google is a bit wrong - I came to the military commissariat not on the second day, but in the morning of February 24. I received a call at 6:15, and at 6:30 I was already at the military commissariat. For the first 10 months, I served in a security company, performing tasks to protect the military enlistment office. We also performed military burial rituals: carrying the coffin, giving the cross, folding the flag, firing a salute. These rituals were focused as much as possible on respect for the dead and their families. But it was a difficult period, because we often felt powerless, being in the rear.

Exactly 10 months later, at the end of December 2022, I was transferred to the 30th Mechanized Brigade, where I became a platoon commander. At first, we went through the drill, and then we were deployed to positions near the E40 highway. It was a difficult time: we were just starting to learn how to act in combat conditions. The first assault was very unsuccessful, but the next one was more successful. Then we partially liberated the territory and recaptured the positions. During the second assault, I was wounded: a small shrapnel hit my forehead, pierced my palm and thigh. I did not even notice these injuries at first. I was evacuated, and spent a month being treated and rehabilitated at home.

After my return, I took part in seven more assaults in the same direction. At the same time, we sometimes performed defense tasks. These were exhausting months: contusions, repeated jamming from explosions. At the end of 2023, due to health problems, I asked for another position. I was transferred to the position of a press officer in the same brigade. I worked there for 11 months.

A month and a half ago, I was transferred to the 158th Brigade, where I am still a press officer.

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— Did you have a camera with you during your service? Were you able to take pictures or did you not have time for that?

— Yes, I had my camera with me almost always. When we were on the defensive, there was time to take pictures - it helped to distract us. I also took a camera to the assaults, even if it seemed unusual, because others took additional ammunition or provisions. I took few pictures: mostly before the assault or at the points of concentration.

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Later, when I became a press officer, photography became part of my duties. I shot a lot of training sessions, portraits of the military and the daily life of the brigade. Now I take fewer pictures in the new brigade, because we are just forming.

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— Do you plan to combine these photos into a project? Do you already have a concept for them?

— So, now everything is coming together in a project called The Art of War, or Rules for Caring for a Machine Gun. It's about the daily monotonous actions necessary for survival and success: cleaning the machine gun, training, cooking. The title refers to the book The Art of War by Sun Tzu, but in a modern context. The project is in preparation.

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— Do you take pictures of this project on film? What technologies do you use?

— Yes, I shoot on film. At first, it was Fomapan, but the quality left much to be desired: there was not enough black, the tonality was weak. Now I've switched to another film, which I push up to 1600 ISO to have enough sensitivity. I shoot a lot of takes, so I use a lot of film, but it's my favorite tool.

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— Are you planning to color or finish the photos for the Art of War, or Rules for Caring for a Machine Gun project?

— No, this project does not involve coloring. I publish photos in series of three frames: one frame as a word, two as a sentence, and three as a paragraph. This allows me to create visual stories where each photo adds something to the narrative, for example, about artillery or the process of working on the positions.

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— Why do you choose black and white photos over color?

— Black and white photography looks laconic, classic, and removes everything unnecessary. Color film requires a lot of processing, which I don't want to do because of the complexity and expense. In addition, the black-and-white style conveys my idea better.

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— How do you select the photos for the project? Do you already have a final set?

— Now I have 299 photos, but many of them are duplicated in terms of subject matter or ideas. I'll have to go through everything again and choose the best ones. I don't really like this process, but it is important for creating a coherent project. My previous work with Hoverla showed me how tedious the selection process can be, so I try not to rush.

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— Tell us about photographs or projects that are lesser known but important to you personally. Do you have any?

— Yes, I have a series of photos from the Spas. These are personal memories of the days when I went to sea, worked with the crew, repaired the boat or taught children. People often find these photos uninteresting, but they are very important to me. There are also works where I learned how to color black and white photographs - it was a training process, but they also have meaning for me.

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There is a project called “Home”. It's about human habitat: I projected parts of buildings onto beautiful landscapes so that people would rethink their preferences for housing. This project shows how art helps to go beyond the usual ideas and makes us rethink life values.

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— You mentioned 21 professions in your life. Or has photography always been there for you?

— Yes, photography has always been close by. I worked as a driver, head of a transport shop, a carpenter, and restored furniture. Even when I was doing other things, photography remained a part of my life and eventually became what I do to this day.

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— What advice would you give to beginners who want to become photographers or find themselves in photography?

— This is a long and difficult path. At first, it's easy to learn how to take good single shots - you can take courses, shoot reports, weddings, or objects. But if you want to make art, it requires a lot of work on yourself and inspiration. As Viktor Marushchenko used to say, you need to look at a lot of photos to develop your taste and find your own style. This is a process that can take years. The key is to be prepared for disappointment and keep moving forward. And remember: you can't repeat the successes of others, but you can avoid their mistakes.

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Dmytro Kupriyan was born in Kyiv in 1982. He worked on the topic of torture, filming a project about violence and its consequences in the Ukrainian police (The Tortured). Developing the topic of violence in a broader sense, he made projects about the war in Ukraine (Shards of War, Banality of Aggression, and When the War Ends). Later, he turned to the topic of dialogue as a means of reconciliation and made a video promoting its necessity. In the video, the author tries to show that the only way to solve problems and misunderstandings in societies is through dialogue in all its manifestations: verbal, subverbal, physical, etc. In 2015, due to Russia's aggression against Ukraine, he was called up from the reserve for military service, during which he also filmed and worked on projects about the war. Later he focused on the topics of human habitat and human self-identification in society. He is the author of a series of photographs “36 Views of Mount Hoverla” dedicated to the engravings of Katsushika Hokusai. He is currently serving in the Armed Forces of Ukraine.  The photographer's social networks: Instagram and Facebook. 

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We worked on the material:
Researcher of the topic, author of the text: Vira Labych
Editor-in-chief: Olga Kovaleva
Literary editor: Yulia Futey
Website manager: Vladyslav Kukhar