Dasha

the light that holds me

the light that holds me

Ukraine and Beyond 2015–2025

the light that holds me

by Dariya Lukyanova

My love for photography was passed down to me from my parents' passion for photography. I spent many hours in the red light of the darkroom, watching images slowly appearing on paper. The pace at which the process evolved was magical, in ways that are in direct contrast to the speed of our digital age. Throughout my life, I have captured photographs of places, situations, and anything else that caught my attention, mainly using my phone since it was always with me.

In February 2014, Russia annexed the Crimean Peninsula and began military operations in eastern Ukraine. On February 24, 2022, Russia started a full-scale war against Ukraine. From that day forward, a sense of fear overwhelmed me. It was an unimaginable feeling, as if the world had shattered overnight and daily life had abruptly ended, leaving only panic and dread.

The first two months were a blur of shock. My family and I fled Kyiv and moved to a safer city in Ukraine, where we stayed for several weeks. During that first month, I could barely leave my room, eat, or do anything at all, despite having a small child to care for. I was completely certain that I would lose my home and would never see my parents again, as they had chosen to stay in Kyiv.

Eventually, after those two months, we returned home. That day was the happiest of my life because I had convinced myself I would never see my home again. Coming back gave me strength and inspiration to pick up my camera. I walked everywhere and was overjoyed to kiss every wall and road in my hometown, where I was born and had lived my entire life. I looked at those streets, buildings, and places, and felt that this could be the last day I see them. I started taking tons of photographs to keep in my

memory of all these places. I thought it was even more beautiful than before. In these years of war, I created more photographs than ever before. Still, when making pictures of Kyiv, I felt that an exact place could be seen for the last time one day, and destroyed that same night by Russian drones and missiles.

We are all exhausted now, feeling as though we are losing hope. It has become challenging to capture beauty through my lens when all I feel is pain and fear. Photography is both my therapy and my passion. Now more than ever, it is essential to appreciate the beauty around us. We just have to learn to pay attention to it. I find myself observing every aspect of life whenever my eyes are open. For three years, I tried to avoid accepting the reality of war, as it was too painful and too close to home. Every day, I witnessed places, homes, and offices that were damaged and left in ruins. Almost every night, we heard explosions and sirens. I tried to focus on finding something different and beautiful around me. I often avoided photographing the consequences of war. There were already plenty of war chronicles being shared. My way of coping was to capture the light amidst it all. But then I changed my mind.

This is the reality I live with, and it is an essential part of my life, here and now. I want to document it and never forget. I cannot hide by ignoring the reality of each day. It exists within my very soul—manifested in damaged buildings, ruined roads, families torn apart, and the lives of all Ukrainian people. I always strive to transition from the harsh realities of war back to the light and beauty that persist despite the circumstances. I focus on the life that goes on around us, the moments that remind us of why we continue to move forward, and the instances of quiet beauty that inspire us.

Hedgehogs , 2022

Kyiv

Immediately following the 2022 Russian invasion, Ukrainian civilians and railway shops began mass-producing these barriers to fortify cities and strategic locations. They were deployed at checkpoints and in streets to force Russian armor into vulnerable positions, making them targets for anti-tank weapons like Javelins or drones. .

City Center, 2022

Kyiv

After weeks of the full-scale invasion, we moved back to our home in April. This burned out car on my street was one of the first things I saw.

A New View, 2022

The left bank of Kyiv, seen through the sandbags of war, An island in the center of the Dnipro River, with parks and beaches for recreation.

Kyiv monuments are covered by protective construction to save them from Russian shelling.

Kyiv, Ukraine

National Cultural Center

Ukraine House , 2022

Kyiv, Ukraine

National Cultural Center

Ukraine House , 2022

Kyiv, Ukraine

Kyiv, Ukraine