My first personal photography exhibition, "Unifying Russia," took place in Tomsk in 2006, when I had already been professionally engaged in photography for four years. Later, it was exhibited in Budapest at the Russian Cultural Center of our embassy. Looking at the visitors' faces, I then understood that photography preserves not only memory and thought but also emotion, state of mind, and empathy. It's like a time machine, where each frame is a point of pause in space.

At the beginning, I worked with film, then with a digital camera—it was fascinating… but not enough. Film honestly conveys the fact, but how do you convey the inner feeling?

While attending masterclasses of various photography professionals, where the main focus was on the technical side of things, I felt it wasn’t enough, it was too narrow—that there was something more, something capable of conveying not just shadow, light, and the beauty of a landscape, but also feeling, a surge of emotion, the flutter of the soul.

Once, I quite unexpectedly found myself in the company of artists. They were filigree masters of the brush! They reproduced the color and form of objects with photographic detail. And that meeting made me take up experimentation again. I wanted to convey life itself through images, in the full spectrum of sensations.

As a result, my own works led me to COLOR as taste and smell, as the movement of air, as the reflection of the synergy between a person and the Creator.

When I tried painting on canvas, I was elated!

Color, even more than form, completely captivated me.

The opportunity to express your mood through color, without looking back at authorities, emphasizing halftones, speaking a language understandable only to you…

Oh, a miracle!!! This language turned out to be understood not only by me! The paintings resonated and sparked interest. Gradually, they 'ventured' beyond the studio, enriching private collections and galleries.

In addition, much of my worldview changed during my first pilgrimage to the Holy Mount Athos in 2012, where the monasteries and prayerful silence revealed a new dimension of art to me. Since then, my photographs and paintings have been primarily a means of serving people.

Moreover, due to the nature of my primary work, facing intense human physical pain, the grief of loss, and the strain of overcoming illness every day, and observing what can help a person in recovery, I came to the conclusion that color and light have a healing effect. It is as if a person, stripped bare by illness, can feel with their skin the coolness of turquoise, the soft warmth of the setting sun, the freshness of the frosty air’s whiteness. And all of this can evoke a desire to live and to feel. This is how the paintings were created…

My wife and friends supported me greatly, and their compelling attention to my work gave me the confidence to continue developing that language I mentioned earlier — COLOR, as facets of life, as touching the world’s magnificence, as a memory of Paradise, as the courage to feel and breathe deeply.

Later, I realized that the main "secret" ingredient of the happiness of creativity is to serve people. You should paint when you are ready to empathize, sympathize, and generously share the overflowing joy of discoveries and gratitude towards the world and the Creator.

I was born in Moscow in 1967, in a family of "ordinary" Russian intelligentsia, where creativity and discipline were always commonplace.

My father, for as long as I can remember, has always been photographing—'capturing time.' Now, with age, I understand how important it is to leave the world fragments of eras, stories of lives, and destinies. Today, I too, through the lens, am capturing our reality.

My mother was a graphic artist at the "Nauka" publishing house, and consequently, there were always large-format paper and pencils at home. I remember how my parents' friends came back from abroad and brought a set of markers. Bright, shiny, as if containing concentrated pure color. I drew a landscape for the first time. The picture hung in my father’s study for a long time afterward… It was inspiring.

My first personal photography exhibition, "Unifying Russia," took place in Tomsk in 2006, when I had already been professionally engaged in photography for four years. Later, it was exhibited in Budapest at the Russian Cultural Center of our embassy. Looking at the visitors' faces, I then understood that photography preserves not only memory and thought but also emotion, state of mind, and empathy. It’s like a time machine, where each frame is a point of pause in space.