SNOW WHITES
Young Cuba
Dom
Elena
Series
Dom stands for "home" and "house" in Russian.
This topic has always been sensitive in my family. My great-grandfather’s home was destroyed twice during dekulakization — the Soviet campaign of political repression. After I was born, my mom and I were forced to move twice, in 2000 and 2019, for safety reasons. I left my country in 2022 after Russia invaded Ukraine and have not returned since.


The ongoing project explores different edges of feeling at home, losing home, and trying to find one. I interviewed my friends from Russia and Ukraine, most of whom moved after the start of the full-scale war, and captured them in their current apartments abroad with the objects that help create the ephemeral sensation of being at home. In the end, the objects turned out to be just a thread that helped untangle something deeper and much more complex.

The aim of Dom is not to compare the stories, but to delve into the definition of home and its multiple layers and find answers to the questions that have remained central within me since my childhood — and now, have become even more crucial.

Recently, I added another layer to the project. For safety reasons, I began covering my subjects’ faces with threads, which function both as protection and as a visual metaphor. There is an expression “to sew someone’s mouth shut,” meaning to silence a person. This echoes the fragile boundary between protection, self-censorship, and vulnerability.
DOM
ongoing
‘When you separate from the family, home becomes internal. It is a place where you can find peace. For, when there is chaos and anxiety, it’s unsettling, you’re outside your home.’
V.
from Odessa
photographed in Barcelona
‘When I don’t like the environment around me, I don’t even try to make it comfortable. It simply won’t feel like home to me. I can live like that for a year if I have to, but without the feeling of home.’
A.
from Murom
photographed in Prague
'When I think of home, I imagine mom cooking something in the kitchen. Dad watching TV. I come home, mom hugs me, and I smell freshly cooked soup. I sit down at the piano to play.

My mom and dad have already passed away. Mom died six years ago, and dad — just a week before the war started.'
D.
from Krivoy Rog
photographed in Barcelona
‘The first thing that comes to mind when I think about home is a vacuum cleaner. Everything is so unstable these days that at least at home
I want to have stability. I want the apartment to be clean.’
V.
from Kherson
photographed in Limassol
“The feeling of home emerges once you allow yourself to keep things that serve no practical purpose. Those useless, yet such very useful things give you the feeling of significance, liveliness, and warmth."
Y.
from Ekaterinburg
photographed in Barcelona
“These days, my home is in Tbilisi, which I love wholeheartedly — and in the Georgian language, which helped me to rediscover my own freedom.“
s.
from Moscow
photographed in Tbilisi
“For me, home is a complicated topic, because for most of my life, I lived by the principle ‘anywhere to get out of here’. Only recently, I started to realize that there exists a sense of home."
M.
from Sysert
photographed in Berlin
“These planes are a link to my childhood, home and my cherished dream — creating my own airline one day.’

‘In Omsk I care when something is not right. I fight it, write appeals, argue. Here I wouldn’t do that. Either everything is so good, or I haven’t reached that deeper level of home yet."
O.
from Omsk
photographed in Vienna
‘Home is your habits. It’s hard to change your habits completely. That is why I lost my home in Russia. I don’t have a home now. Even though I used to.’
L.
from Vladivostok
photographed in Pissouri
‘Home is where you feel safe; where you’re surrounded with things that make your life easier and make you feel like you are standing on both feet, especially in the periods of turbulence.

The magic wand is also about safety and protection; if it gets too hard, I can always call upon a patronus.‘
O.
from Moscow
photographed in Limassol
‘My little house has turned out to be surrounded by an alien atmosphere, ideology, ideas, and people. I never thought I would feel like a stranger among my own people, but it’s happened.’

‘There are always icons and photographs of my loved ones on my table; that’s a link to the spiritual home and the earthly one.’
S.
from Kostroma
photographed in Tbilisi
“Whenever I talk about home, what I mention a lot is the air, both outside and inside the apartment. I feel good when I can breathe in deeply."
K.
from Saint Petersburg
photographed in Barcelona (self-portrait)