My third trip to Teriberka this year, at this time in winter. All pictures were taken on the Hasselblad 503cw with Carl Zeiss Planar 2.8/80 lense. Film — Kodak Portra 400. Developing and scanning by SREDA Film Lab.
Ukraine, Poltava region
Ukraine, Poltava region
October 2016
Camera — AGFA Optima 1535
Film — ADOX Color Implosion 100
Scanner — Fuji Frontier SP-3000
Developing & scanning by SREDA Film Lab
Teriberka, bw, September 2016
Teriberka, Mermansk reg, Russia. September 2016. FIlm Ilford HP5+ 400, exposure index 1600, developed as 400. Hasselblad 503cw with Carl Zeiss Planar 80/2.8.
Teriberka, color, September 2016
The first time I’ve been in Teriberka (Murmansk region in the north of Russia) month ago, in august 2016. After that in september. Next time going in november and ten to one will be over there in december. Pictures which I took in this place interesting for me not only as changes in this location, but as changes inside me too. I prefer to go to the same place over and over again, or live in a certain place for a long time. My august photos from Teriberka you can see here. All new pictures was taken on Hasselblad 503cw with Carl Zeiss Planar 2.8/80. Films — Kodak Portra 400, Kodak Ektar 100 and Fujicolor Pro 400H.
Kaliningrad region, Russia
Kaliningrad region is the enclave of Russia, ex-territory of East Prussia (Germany) before 1946. All pictures were taken by me in August 2016. Film — ADOX Color Implosion 100, camera — Olympus XA2.
Teriberka, Murmansk region, Russia
Teriberka, Murmansk reg., Russia
August 2016
Film — ADOX Color Implosion 100
Camera — Olympus XA2
Implosion #1, Russia
Some new pictures from my lovely film ADOX Color Implosion. Camera — Olympus XA2. All photos were taken in Moscow, Saint-Petersburg and Ryazan, Russia. May 2016.
A set of photographs by Bernand Plossu (b. 1945)
My own collection of works of French photographer Bernand Plossu. In this publication I have included more than 30 pictures, which he took at different times since 1965.
«Б»
This book is a photo album I issued in limited print as a present to my former classmates for our 25th high school reunion. All photographs in the book were made by a teenage me in 1985-1991.
At that time, I’d mainly take pictures both in class and during recessions. There are shots from political awareness lessons, from the school disco, from a Labor Day parade and an all-school camping trip. There are quite a few portraits, of schoolboys, and, exceedingly, of schoolgirls, who, as it turns out, loved the camera. There are images of the school yard, the drama club in action, and an odd PE class. In other words, the book is a snapshot of everyday life of a typical Soviet school in the end of the 1980s.
I didn’t plan the book to become a “thing”; again, it conceived as a present for my former classmates. It is nothing more than an album with photographs, not unlike your ordinary family album, whose audience is, by definition, limited. What I have discovered over the last few weeks, however, is that a lot of people would be curious about the album anyway, and would often ask me to let them take a look.
These would be people with no connection to my classmates or my school life whatsoever, but they were still very interested in browsing though the pictures of the days gone by. In them, those born and raised in the USSR find parallels with their own childhood, and those born and raised elsewhere discover what life was like behind the iron curtain. Thus, this blog post was born.
Who knows, maybe you, too, will share the curiosity and wish to browse the images of the past that I’m sharing with the world today.
Непрояв. / Undev.
The short video about my new photobook.
Непрояв. / Undev.
© Pavel Kosenko
Photographs taken in 1984–1989
Films developed in 1984–2015
Films scanned in 2014–2015
Supervised by SREDA Creative Lab
Printed by Nemakulatura
Moscow, 2016
Emulsion stores its memory in latent images. Time passes, and the information sits there, qiuetly, in the film’s “subconscious”, without revealing itself. In some cases, it would sit there for years on end, so that even the person who once made sure the memory is preserved has no recollection of having done that. As fate should have it, these non-existent images can either see the light of day, or never be born at all.