Necrosphere

Cycles "Necrosphere", "City" from the first exhibitions "Statics" perhaps were the most "honest" for me. Every good picture was percieved like a little wonder. Namely these cycles taught me composition and maintenance.

City

All these foreshortenings, unballanced compositions, strange maintenance... Now I know that there`s no need to study photography. If you want to do somethings worth while you must do the things which arouse delight, inspiration. That is a quiet explosion, something wild coming not from mind. In that period there were abandoned workshops, plants, refining buildings on my photoes. Probably if I studied from the landscapes and still-lifes, I would have stayed on an interesting for no one level. And perhaps, I needed a little talent. Now these works seem slightly naive, but they all were honest. I like them.

"Lobotomy"

"Each man must give himself an account what is forever and what is for today`s use."

The most interesting cycle began from nonsense - Michael Hemorroids had shaved his head as usual and I offered him to make his photo. We began this deed with two half-litres. Unexpectedly I found some definite style. Coldness, estrangement, even deadness. Later came the name "Lobotomy" and the main requirement for the object of photo - full absence of thought in look. Some ependemitis gives false homosexual tinge to these pictures. Except one man (I met him in the street and never saw him again) all the others are normal high grade people. And this moron estrangement is seeming too. Almost all pictures are being made between two attacs of laugh. Once I laughed till I have pulled out. And if to speak seriously the only reason which made me do this cycle - its complication and that the cycle is unlike all the rest, being made in Kursk. G. Bodrov (the only genius of photography in Kursk, killed by two dregs in february, 14, 1999) wouldn�t have done such rubbish. And all the rest will not be able to do something like it. Except pictures introduced at the site, I have a great mass of unprinted negatives. I don�t absolutely like the cycle, but of course I�ll have to print it. Probably, it will be a good exhibition. And I�ll try to make it�s opening really cheerfull.

"The Eighth Planet"

�Man is a creator of his own world. Outer world exists without him for sure. And what I am so is the world, percieved and known by me. And so if I disappear, this world will also disappear - the world which I know, see, carry in me. It goes out that I live in a doomed world, that I am doomed too and there�s no way out from this situation�.

�The eighth planet� was the name of my third exhibition. The exhibition of photolandscapes. I accumulated many pictures and then got rid of them at once. Somewhere about 70 photoes. Landscape is a very complicated genre but it has got an advantage. Wherever you go, everywhere there is a landscape. It�s hard to choose. And the mater is not to pass it through myself, there are the ravings of quasicreative persons. The main thing is to catch a still. It must be built, it must lay in a view-finder. And you got to like it. First. For the second, it must be something, that the others wouldn�t pay attention to. You must not look for �pretty moments, given us by nature�, you must built a still by the power of thought, interfere in God�s craft. And if it can�t be built, even around something that has stunned you, you must turn round and go away. Because the only thing I�m sure in is that there�s no such a genius composition, such a genius moment, still, situation which is worth to be upset by if you can�t make it�s photoes. There will be occasions better than this and there�s no need to take it for serious. It will be good if the inspiration comes. Alcohol is a good stimulator. Looking through the pictures, i found with a surprise, that only little part of them were made when I was sober. For example, the series of a village cemetery in the fog. I was taking pictures of it at 6 A.M. in the morning. And we began preparing for this moment in the afternoon of the previous day. By the morning there was a liter of �moonshine� per every person. And only a high degree of intoxication pushed me to go to that cemetery. No other creative urges would have made me get up at 5 A.M. and go through the whole village, knee-deep in dew. And here�s the result. Let somebody do better. Of course, I don�t always drink to such an extent. But I am idle to take out my camera from the camera box when I have a sober head. Only if you see a thing - it lays in still. However I am an amateur photographer. Sometimes we should do it too.
P.S. Some foolish woman wrote a review in a newspaper: �I don�t understand anything in photography, but professionals say that tricks with superwide lens are old, and horse�s eye became ordinary�. It stung me. You know, I�ve got only two lenses: regular and the �fish eye�. Of course, I want more, but I have no money. So I have to get out of it somehow. Another is worse - judging of people, whose highest level is duplicating of endless declines. It�s a pity, that after Bodrov�s death (look explanations for �lobotomy�) many people are left capable of appraising and a few people capable of understanding. And all that new population of �photographers-amateurs with colour films� give rise to bewilderment. However, in a dispute between a graphoman and a poet a graphoman always wins because he can�t distinguish bad verses from good ones. I am an average poet, but I am a poet. And I get a great pleasure of my being the only one here.

"Pictures With The Source of light in a still"

There are antipodes to nature lovers who are naive to foolishness. I call them �Vassisualii Lohankini�. But they are more often met in journalism and literature. They are not clever people who can string complicated words, images, and consepts on each other. And you need to look narrowly in order to understand that under these words, images and aestetics a tipical fool is hiding with all his complexes. So, �Pictures With The Source of light in a still� is not a serious form without any sense. Just formalism. Just art.

"Are There Few Don Pedroes in Brasil"

The exhibition included only portraits. It was the second for me. Once, long time ago, I was going to earn money doing the portraits and tried as much as I could. Now I have finished with it completely. Firstly, it is not interesting. For the second, no one needs it.

"Old People And a Holiday"

This cycle I don�t understand myself. Sometimes I like it, sometimes not. In any case, I didn�t get what I wanted. I really feel sorry when I see old men, old women. And it�s more than a pity. Sometimes it breaks my heart, when I see people who are left such little time. Oldness, feebleness are worse than the death itself. So I tried to show them, the people who live only for their children. Like a sign, where you are going to yourself. How has it turned out? So-so.