Poignant photographs of daily life in pre-war Ukraine:
works with metal; Vlad was shooting a short film, and suggested I act in it. I don't really know what it was about, but at some point we shaved each other in the bathtub. They all live in Kharkiv, but they came and stayed with me in an apartment I was renting. In Slavic countries, it’s much more open regarding strangers and staying with people you don't know. We were going to do this film, so it seemed easier for them to stay with me. We got along amazingly, and have been close since.
But, very quickly, they were fine about being naked. It was really a friendly, easy-going spirit. They were like kids. A lot of people see these images as “trashy” or “provocative” — even a friend of mine called my work trashy once, and an exhibition review described my work as “.” But to me, it’s much closer to childishness. There’s this fear around sex and sexuality. Nudity is a way of overcoming that, and photography acts as a kind of psychotherapy.
**It can. Admittedly, nudity isn't always as lived-in and uninhibited as it is here — it can be exploited through the lens.**Which photographers depict nudity well?, a Russian artist exiled in the US. He’s gay, and addresses his sexuality; he’s worked with Bruce LaBruce. I love what they do together — there’s lots of absurdity in it. I don’t know why I like it exactly, but I do.**I rented this apartment that was really horrible, but good to take photos in.
My dad has been summoned for duty. He sent me a funny photo showing his battalion [on her phone, extends a photo of a horse and cart]. My grandparents are together. My grandfather does a kind of neighborhood watch with his Rottweiler in Kyiv. Everyone is quite positive — or, at least, they’re positive in what they tell me so that I don't worry. Part of me has trouble believing the whole thing. It’s taking me time to process. I think I won't truly realize it for a while.