My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020.

Profile photo of Victor Bezrukov
Victor Bezrukov
Photographer, Storyteller, Life Photographer based in israel
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - The modern ART. In the old Jaffa port.
The modern ART.
In the old Jaffa port.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Body temperature daily check procedure.
Body temperature daily check procedure.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Masks for fishes.
Masks for fishes.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - http://www.victorbezrukov.com/
http://www.victorbezrukov.com/
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Enjoy.
Enjoy.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - The Emptiness.
The Emptiness.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Evenings in solitude.
Evenings in solitude.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - The strangers agreed to pose for a portrait. Jerusalem.
The strangers agreed to pose for a portrait.
Jerusalem.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - An entrance to the photo exhibition. Tel Aviv
An entrance to the photo exhibition.
Tel Aviv
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Praying alone. Jerusalem.
Praying alone.
Jerusalem.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Daily outdoor praying. Tel Aviv.
Daily outdoor praying.
Tel Aviv.
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. -
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. - Old school selfie. 
Old school selfie. 
Year 2020...

 At morning I accidentally noticed that today is the last day of September. And due to the overall temperature, weather, and feeling – September still feels like summer here in Israel. Well, this summer was long. Too long. Never in my life, I had such a long summer like SUMMER 2020. I also added less hot April and May and got these 6 long months of the Covid-19 craziness, that changed our lives forever. I mixed this post with the images taken during these 6 months with different kinds of activity, not too varied due to the current situation – the isolation, the quarantine, the second quarantine, the limited movement, the limits in gathering, closed cinemas and theaters, and the absence of live music performances, parties, jam sessions. Somehow, i was very lucky to attend a few rock’n’roll events and the "Balfour protests" filled my free time and released free energy.

With the first quarantine I found myself enjoying taking photographs of the empty streets with here and their frightened people in masks. These exotic from the first sign masks were interesting subjects to photograph, but with time they became a norm and this fact especially upsets me. I photographed every single day – the strangers, co-workers, friends, and my family. One of the great ideas I released this summer was printing some of the portraits of people I met during my short walks and bringing them the printed hard copy of their black and white portraits with the masks, sometimes without, depending on the situation and the place where we met.
The effect of holding in hands these printed photographs was very different from person to person – some of them frankly let me know that they have nothing to do with these prints, but most of the people who got these images, were absolutely happy, and some of them even in kind of a shock because of this forgotten feeling to have their portraits in their hands.

 Another great “project” I started and still not finished – is a “Quarantine in village” zine. I finished all the pages, designed well everything, but stopped when saw the Blurb books and zines shipping prices. Another reason why the project was stopped, there was a feeling that it would not be interesting to anyone, because we all had the same feelings at the same time, so I lost interest to create another zine with the same images of loneliness during another lockdown. Right now we are in the middle of the second lockdown, and the feeling is different, maybe I got used to this silly isolation, limitations, and boundaries? Is it possible to lose the feeling of how it was some time ago? Without masks, isolation, and the social distance from each other. I don’t know why they call it social if it’s just physical. I miss hugging my mom, I have not done this for half a year. Is it really possible to get used to this?  


Photography © Victor Bezrukov
Public Story
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020.
Copyright Victor Bezrukov 2024
Date of Work Mar 2020 - Sep 2020
Updated Aug 2022
Location Israel, Telaviv
Topics Black and White, Covid-19, Documentary, Essays, Pandemics, Personal Projects, Photography
LOVE
My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. by Victor Bezrukov My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. by Victor Bezrukov My longest summer ever – documenting this horrifying year 2020. by Victor Bezrukov
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