Yelena Yemchuck: Close Up

SLEEK: I’ve really been looking forward to meeting you. How are you?

Yelena Yemchuk: Oh, that’s nice. It’s hard right now, and it depends on how I wake up and what’s in the news. I’m in America, so I’m a long way from the action. If you’re in Europe, you can do so much more. A big part of me is torn. Everything is so emotional for me.

S: You were 11 when you left the Soviet Union with your parents. Can you remember the feeling when you said goodbye?

YY: That moment was definitely one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. It was unbelievable. Sometimes, I think I’ve never recovered from it. I was very close to my grandmother and also to my father’s family. I spent every summer with my family in the country. My grandma lived in Kyiv, but in the summer my father always rented a cottage, and so we were outside all summer. My childhood memories are really magical: the forest, the moss, the trees, my grandma, the light, everything. When I think back to my childhood in Ukraine, these are exactly the images. When my parents said we had to go, I was old enough to understand that this would change everything. I didn’t want to go. When I had to say goodbye to everyone, I broke down. I remember every second of the day we left. I was so angry at my parents, America and everything, because I didn’t want to be anywhere but Kyiv.

S: And now we hear about these goodbyes every day, about what an unwanted, forced goodbye does to us. You’re right in the middle of it all again, aren’t you?

YY: Every day I’m in touch with my family, so many people and friends there, and I’ve been thinking, again and again, about what all of this says about Ukraine as well. In many places, people are forced to flee and don’t want to return because there’s no hope. We will go back. It’s so emotional and so touching to experience how deep-rooted the love of your country and of the people can be. For me, it’s a very special place of honour. I’m gripped by the love of my own country and the love of my own freedom.

S: And it’s also impressive to see the incredible skills and strengths shown by women.

YY: Yes, absolutely. No woman I know would ever fight a war. No woman I know would ever kill, intentionally or unintentionally. They would defend themselves if someone broke into their home. War is such a man’s game. Women are very strong. So many of my female friends have just had to leave their boyfriends, their husbands or their fathers behind. They had to leave everything behind to protect their children or themselves.

S: Do you talk to your daughters about Ukraine?

YY: Yes, of course. They know what a huge part of it is within me. I go there all the time, and of course, they’ve been there many times. When the war broke out, we were in Los Angeles with my parents. That was very intense for my girls because my parents are in their late 70s. My father is actually 80. That’s when I looked at my children and I thought, “Okay, I need to calm down.” I have to pull myself together because they need me. They need to understand what’s happening and I need to be very clear with them.

S: What does the word ‘home’ mean to you?

YY: All my life people have asked me where I’m from. My answer was always, “From Ukraine.” I am Ukrainian. It’s where I come from; it’s my home. Whenever I’m in Ukraine, it’s so clear that I belong, that I’m at home, that I feel 100 percent myself. I hear people’s voices and see faces, drive through the countryside, see the trees and feel the light. It’s a combination of childhood memories and childhood stuff, but it’s also an inexplicable matter of DNA.

S: Let’s talk about your recently published photobook, Odesa (2022).

YY: I’d love to. This project is a journey I started in 2015. I fell in love with Odessa. It’s a very different kind of love from what I feel for Kyiv. Kyiv is where I grew up and spent a lot of time. When I walk down the street there, so much comes up. Memories of leaving, wonderful memories of my childhood with my parents, of my friends and my experiences. When I first came back to Ukraine I was 19 years old and as you can see I have a very, very deep relationship with Kyiv. I visited Odessa for the first time in 2003, for two days. I was so surprised and really wanted to come back to take photos, but everything was still completely vague. When Crimea was annexed and Russia invaded in 2014, there was fighting in the East and in the eastern part of Donetsk. I talked to many of my friends about the idea of photographing young people there. I realized something new was happening, that this new generation was going to change things. The way they looked at the West and the East, the way they looked at themselves, it was like a new beginning for Ukraine. It felt like a fresh start for Ukrainian culture. What struck me was that they were doing their own thing with their own culture. They helped themselves to the past, history, even the Soviet stuff, and they created a new identity and culture naturally and with complete freedom. For me, it was so exciting because I hadn’t experienced anything like this anywhere else before. It was just something totally unique and so exciting.

S: I noticed your photos of children in uniform: they’re smiling, close-up, direct, almost naive.

YY: I was wondering what happened to the children because I heard they were volunteering for the army. A friend gave me access to the recruits, so I photographed these children who joined the army. I got very close to them, got engrossed in their faces, and talked to them. I wanted to understand what was going on. Odessa is so close to Crimea that the urgency to prepare was greater there than in other parts of Ukraine. On this journey, I realised that I needed to give people context. I had to show life in Odessa at that time, and that’s how it all started. I went there in summer 2015; I went there three times in 2016 and 2017, and I just couldn’t stop. I knew there was a story to tell and I felt drawn to the place, the people and the city. I wanted to document what was happening there.

S: The book was supposed to come out in 2019. It doesn’t seem so long ago, but today we’re encountering a completely different reality.

YY: The fact that the book is coming out now, three years late, feels very strange. Friends said: “It has to come out immediately. It’s so important. You have to show what we’re fighting for. You have to show our life before, because all the images that are appearing now are images of the war.” I feel like in a way the book has become an important piece of history showing the beauty of this amazing city and these people that I fell so in love with. In many ways, the photos are very honest because they show funny, sad, ecstatic and crazy things. I hope they’re all doing okay right now. That’s all I can think of.

S: It’s also about creating a moment in the future, creating hope …

YY: Love and hope are so important. Even when my images are dark and moody and strange, I want them to contain an element of hope. I like creating something that makes people think. It makes people question things. It’s my job as an artist to show beauty and hope. In the world, in Ukraine. Hope is the message we must convey, especially to the children who have been uprooted and taken to another place.

S: I am also longing to see a different image of humanity to the one currently on display. The seriousness of the threat to all of us is so clear. Recognising this also means really dealing with dictators.

YY: This world mustn’t belong to these old men any more, to those who have outgrown their generation. The old-fashioned idea of conquering and taking and just grabbing and making yourself a superpower is so ancient. These are really very dangerous people. We have to figure out – and by that I mean the governments of the world, the people of the world – how we can’t let them get away with it. I’m not a politician, but we have a duty to deal with it.

As featured in SLEEK 73 – PASSION. Available in print and digital here.