War Photography

Gori War, August 7-8, 2008

Of course, it was during the war that I started to photograph armed conflict for the first time.

No matter how well-prepared you are, when you find yourself amidst the war, then you start facing other battles and unexpected challenges.

I had a different mindset when I left, I was thinking in a different way, but upon arrival I woke up absolutely a different person. There were numerous scenes that lingered in my memory, it changed my mind, and it took me a lot of effort not to continuously think about those two days. I have been returning to that war over and over again.

 The war sets its own rules, how to shoot and how to act. Photographing war does not necessarily imply shooting the weapons used in it. Those are the people that tell the story of war, and their feelings stir up emotions, portraying a different picture of it.

 As soon as I arrived in Gori, a bomber jet flew over and dropped the bombs. Then I realized that I was in a completely different place and unfamiliar reality. At that moment you feel that all your preparations, thoughts, and emotions vanish and the time freezes. Do you know what it feels like? It’s like turning down the TV volume and watching it in slow motion. You can’t figure out whether it’s a reality or not. It’s like being a spectator and a participant at one and the same time. The silence of war… the air seems to be getting heavier, the sounds die out, and no matter how hard you try to listen for something, there is nothing you can hear anymore. I had the same feeling when I was in Ukraine.

 Well, I don’t know, something happens in the brain when you experience emotional heaviness and can hardly move. At that moment, you don’t think about self-preservation. You hear the sounds, move closer to the bombing site, you see the shattered windows, you walk on the broken glass, notice a building engulfed in flames, and you photograph it! Then you look down and see a person, an elderly woman lying there, and you take a photo, you must move and shoot…A voiceless woman…opening her mouth, seeking help, yet I couldn’t help her…

You keep on walking, taking photos mechanically…

There were things I couldn't photograph. On August 7, when the villages were shelled and our soldiers were returning from the conflict zone, I picked up my camera, intending to take photos. And one of the guys looked at me in such a way, I felt that taking his photo might personally affect him...So, I didn't take photos at that time. There are moments when you realize, you shouldn't take photos. There are scenes that I might forget, but I will always remember this one…

Sometimes I regret, maybe I should have photographed them.  I don’t know, what happened to those guys later. However, at that moment, the camera was moving with me, and it shared the feelings I had. As I look at those ‘spoiled shots’ now, which could have been much better, I no longer consider them spoiled, as they convey the mood I’ve had at that moment. Those are the photos that are now associated with the Gori war. This is the Russian-Georgian war that I’d been shooting for 2 days, August 7-8.

A decade later, the fourth President of Georgia, Giorgi Margvelashvili, awarded me with the Order of Honor for taking and disseminating those photos.

Georgia 2008