Natali Agryzkova

One day, while looking through photographs of my children, I noticed how many events they remembered—even those from when they were very little. That surprised me. I began to wonder: could these photographs be a kind of marker, documenting and affirming our presence in a specific place and time, leaving behind a memory in the mind: “Yes, this happened!”

Susan Sontag, in her essay On Photography, writes that photographs capture an elusive moment in time, preserving it even after it has irreversibly changed. They connect people, objects, and places that eventually go their separate ways. But is the image alone enough to recreate reality? Human memory is highly selective: only the most emotionally charged moments embed themselves in our consciousness. Especially in early childhood—before the age of six—memories tend to be hazy, like dreams. The brain retains only fragments, sometimes embellishing them with its own hues, as if adding colors that may not have been there at all.

Today, thanks to technology, we are capable of preserving every day of our lives without breaking stride. Taking pictures has become a family ritual—a way to protect ourselves from the fear of forgetting something important. Every family keeps hundreds, even thousands of photographs that tell the story of life: the first smile, the first step, the first drawing, what the child ate for breakfast, how funny they looked while sleeping. Capturing these moments has become almost second nature. But what happens to those who don’t have such archives?

I have only a few photographs from my childhood, and even fewer clear memories. In the 1980s and 90s, owning a camera was a luxury: the equipment was expensive, and the printing process was complicated—photography was a privilege for the few. My family didn’t own a camera. Most of my childhood photos were taken in kindergarten or school—staged portraits in the park. In them, I appear as a child without a personal history, just another object among many.

These old photos don’t tell the story I actually lived. My past is gradually losing its shape, becoming ghostlike. And what remains for me now are slightly faded photographs that, decades from now, may lose their ability to speak altogether.

My project is an attempt to reconstruct the archive of my childhood in whatever form the past has allowed it to be preserved. Clay polaroids, like an archaeological collection of memories, become symbols of the fragility of memory. Their bright colors highlight the significance of childhood—that magical period when the world feels like a grand stage and you are its captivated audience.

Photography doesn’t merely beautify reality; it becomes a tool through which we return to the past, recalling what mattered most.

The project is dedicated to my beloved son. “I close my eyes to see.” Paul Gauguin

We never know what is beyond our minds. What are the boundaries of understanding of the reality? Or maybe it is the fiction of our imagination? As Garry Kasparov once said "chess are the torment of reason". There are so many options of development of the events in the world and it can be very well traced on a chessboard. After three moves on each side, more than nine million possible positions appear. In the world of the subconscious the boundaries are erased, you become the part of something unconscious and uncontrollable, where the player can suddenly become a figure and his path will be a square on a chessboard.

My son has been playing chess since he was four years old. Constant hours of training and championships reflect on him as long uncontrolled conversations while sleeping. Sometimes you can hear the flow of the chess game, and sometimes it is an internal cry of a losing player. There are also absurd tories through a dream, you can only guess the plot or try to imagine what really happens on a subconscious level through elusive dreams. This illusion is difficult to describe in words, so you can only try to show it through the lens.

"My photographic story is a journey of adaptation, crossing borders, and looking at life through the lens of a camera. Moving from Ukraine to Germany was not just a simple change of residence, it was a deep dive into the world of a different culture, mentality, and way of life.

My project reflects the process of my family's adaptation to the new environment. Through the lens of my camera, I observe the transformation of my daughter, who, like a human cell, gradually learns new realities and becomes part of German life. This project also reflects my own feelings and connection to my native country, which is going through difficult times as a result of the war. My photographs reflect the emotional conflict and attraction to the native and familiar, as well as the desire to fit into a new context.

This project is an attempt to reveal a complex story of adaptation through the images and moments of my life, where a child becomes the key to a new home, where he or she becomes part of a new world, and I become an observer of this unusual process. This is a story about new beginnings, memory of the past and faith in the future."

4 hours 51 minutes is the time in which our whole life changed. In one moment. I still remember the first feelings of horror that came on the night of February 24. And until now, these eerie feelings of anxiety haunt and cover my head. This inevitable hour of pain, destruction of dreams, life, and death. Now, all of Ukraine and the whole world are on a timer until the end of this bloody war.

Who are you? Do you remember what you are? Do you know what you have been made for?

Even before our birth, society prepares roles and model of behaviors for us. We are dressed in pink, pastel, we are foisted on books and cartoons about princes that bring us back to life with kisses and save us from fire-breathing dragons. And then some dance classes, ideally – ballroom dancing, art class, model school, weight loss marathons, fashion magazines with perfect pictures, a woman - housewife, a woman - homemaker, a woman should ...

Pink is a magical color! However, you like black, or fond of brown-moss green. Moreover, you hate kissing princes, these slobbers. Except that a dragon! At least, its kisses are hot. Dancing with you, your partner puts himself at the risk of being disabled for two weeks due to his battered legs. You hate cooking, you can’t even cook eggs, maybe you have a fear of eggs! Well, you don’t seem to eat much, just a few goodies before heading to bed, but your body is far from the ideal showcased in the magazines...

You decide: “That will not do,” - and you put on an appropriate dress that does not let you breathe in – only breathe out – because a woman should...

But why on earth should she?

We, women are actresses and let’s be clear here, we love to change millions of roles and masks. It makes easier for us to accept and endure reality. The clothes help us in this, shaping the mood, feelings, and emotions. Each image we try on affects our sense of self in the world.

I am a commercial photographer. Every time, preparing the shooting, I discuss the image with my customer. Of course, it consists of clothes, accessories and other trifles. Even invisible underwear helps a woman to become what she wants to be and to feel.

Once at the shooting, in the process of changing the customer’s image, I spontaneously took a shot, which moved me forward to creating this project. It was a moment like the flight of a butterfly: the girl was taking off her blouse and getting rid of clothes. She had about her an aura of a genuine transparent purity. At that moment, she was so natural, without realizing it, that the beauty of her body showed in every slightest movement. I want to show this moment. The moment of truth. Because the real pristineness eludes and the masks reappear if you are completely nude or fully dressed.

I feel like a sorcerer involved in a great mystery.
And I want to open it for you.
Because I know who you are. You are pristine!
I know what you are. You are splendid!
And I know what you have been made for. You are here to be happy, to be yourself.

I will help you to recall that.