The lenses of freedom

The exhibit is taking place in humble quarters, in a small room of the Center for Modern Art foundation in Podol, Kyiv. However, in its importance it is second to none – including the “big brother,” the annual exposititon of the World Press Photo – as these photos are one of the few reliable sources of information on life in the neighboring country.

It is not just the quality and purely formal skill of execution that matters in such photographs, but also the energy of the moment that is captured – the atmosphere and authenticity of the scene. The authors virtually try to stop time; moreover, they fill it with such emotional charge which would act at any distance, both in time and space.

Reality leaves its imprint. Many of the scenes from Chornobyl zone are quite down to earth but no less poignant for that – a kind of everyday drama. This includes the pictures of sick Chornobyl children in hospitals. There is no pathos whatsoever, only quiet, hushed tones: it’s just children trying to survive. And this is what strikes the most.

Certainly the exhibit also abounds in landscapes, glamorous sketches, and purely technical things, such as a somersaulting motorcyclist who looks as if he had caught on a tall obelisk, or a soaring skier. Yet what sticks in memory is the photographs showing people’s creativity in facing everyday challenges and in handling difficult situations.

For instance, there is a picture from a dance sport championship: the spruce, agile dancers – and their partners in wheelchairs. An old lady in an inflatable rubber dinghy in the middle of a street: the evacuation of passengers from a trolleybus during a flood. Some farmers turning over their hay, and next to them a little girl doing the same with her toy spade – she is helping her family. An anti-rabies shot: a magnificent white cat is getting an injection sitting in the lap of an older lady who looks a lot more concerned than her pet. Another cat, this time one from Chornobyl, is serenely resting on his master’s head – a splendid couple, bosom friends. A thoughtful dog bringing a slipper to his master who is taking a dip in an ice hole. Another winter swimmer is bravely chopping the ice as he stands in the icy water nearly naked. A little boy next to a pigsty looks around melancholically, waiting for his mother to feed two hogs which are much larger than himself. Just the common chores of people amidst their everyday routines, the heroes of The Day-to-day tragicomedy.

The most interesting thing here is that one can hardly discern the unappealing seamy side of Lukashenko regime behind the pictures. A protester kicking aside a tear gas bomb; riot squads in full outfit hastily crossing a street during an opposition rally – there is very little politics here. But there are other things, stronger than political declarations: the independence of views, a focus on the lives of common people, and acute interest in everything that happens in the country, seen through the lenses of free people.

Judging from what is going on in Ukraine today, our reporters, too, will have to force their way to freedom like this.