Sergei Stroitelev

Photographer

stroitelev.visura.co/

Behind the Snow

Follow Hire

Nationality: Russian

Biography: I am a freelance photographer and visual artist working with National Geographic Russia, VICE UK/USA, De Volkskrant, Takie Dela, Meduza, Novaya Gazeta, others. My photographic practice primarily focuses on the exploration of the issues of modern... MORE

Behind the Snow

From the diary:
"11 December 2022
I am crossing the Northern Dvina river through a blizzard on a snowmobile, it is not possible to see the other shore of the river because of the fog. Today is the 10th day of my journey through the vast Arkhangelsk region."

I was born in this region of Russia, in a tiny village which does not exist anymore, not a single brick left. Arkhangelsk region had the most number of abandoned villages in the country. The extinction of the villages happened for the economical reasons and the destiny of my native place is not the exception. After the collapse of the USSR in 1992 all the farms and big factories were shut down. The youth left to the big cities in search for working opportunities whereas old people began to die.

As an adult I became very interested in the history of this region and from 2021 I started to travel there in order to explore it. At the very beginning of my research I was really attracted by the completely abandoned places and their estethics of emptiness but after several trips I discovered that some of them were still inhabited. I immediately decided to change the angle of the story by looking at the life of the last residents.

During the next trips in 2022-23 I have found 10 villages in Arkhangelsk region inhabited by only one person. Sometimes I was welcomed and last residents opened their doors and hearts to me. In that case I lived with them for some time, for 2 days of even a week, learning their stories and documenting their daily routine. But sometimes people rejected me or even threatened to set dogs on me if I would not leave their yards. Well, in Russia we call it - nasty Northern character.

I have also rephotographed archival images which my characters were able to find in their dwellings in order to save the memories of pre-crisis happy life full of events and joy. I used table cloths in the dwellings as the background for these images.

The characters of the project live alone on the land in which they have grown roots, finding strength and motivation to move forward in memories, pets, songs or alcohol. These people have witnessed several epochs of Russia. They have seen how troubled times have turned their land into oblivion. Despite difficult, even ascetic conditions which may be called "survival", the last residents do not want to leave the native villages saying they have been born here and here they would die.

The current project reveals Russian mentality which is hidden behind the snow. The testimonies of the characters constitute the story of the modern Russia and display what happened to the country after the collapse of the USSR.

Arkhangelsk region on the map (marked in red).

I: Vera (57 years old), Krasnaya Gorka village

At first glance, it is difficult to realize that someone can live in one of the buildings completely covered with frost. It seems that everything inside has also been frozen for a long time and there is no living soul there, but the door creaks and a thin woman with long gray hair comes out on the threshold - this is Vera. The woman lives in a very cold room in a house belonging to the now abandoned PNI (psycho-neurological dispensary).

“I was 16.5 years old when I was brought here for treatment from Naryan-Mar. From an early age I have had problems, until the age of 4 I did not speak. Closer to adolescence, a nervous breakdown occurred, my mother drank heavily and tormented me and my sister.”says Vera. Her mother arrived at the institution a little later, also as a patient. They did not keep in touch, so Vera found out about her arrival only after it happened - the locals said that they had brought a namesake - Matryona Nosova. Here they reconciled. “She played accordion, I remember how I purchased one at the market for her, even nurses at the dispensary listened to her playing. It was beautiful. Mom is already in the soil, I buried her. On her last journey, she chose wreaths, a scarf, and slippers. Her room is empty, there is a blizzard blowing. I don’t hold a grudge against my mother, a lot of time pasted since my childhood.”
Vera was discharged from the PNI as it was closing due to the lack of financing from the government. She began to work, assisted old people with daily routine, helped with unloading goods in the store, took on everything, then met a Lithuanian who called himself Ivan (Jonas). They began to live together.

"I remember I was singing with the Russian Northern Folk Choir of the Arkhangelsk,” Vera blurts out, “they came to us on holidays, sang songs in the fields, they gave me compliments, oh Vera, you sing so well, damn it!”. Vera sings: “Black Raven, why are you hovering over my head!” She moves closer and says, “Do you feel the power of the voice? I also sang songs based on Yesenin's poems."

Although Vera considers Naryan-Mar to be her native place, she had to forget about the dream to get back there when Ivan came down with kidney problems and then died. “I nursed him, but he died - he fell asleep in a snowdrift after a feast, lay drunk there for a long time until his friends pulled him out and dragged him home. I tried to bring him with feelings for several days, cooked potatoes, but in the end pneumonia happened, ”the woman says. Vera had a dog Elbrus, there was a cat Aliska -“ but they also died. Suddenly, Vera's gaze rushes down, her eyes begin to smile - “Well, hello, hello little one, you wanted some bread? This is Nimble, my little mouse, or rather there are several of them, probably about five. Look how her eyes sparkle and how beautiful her fur is. I put some pieces of food for them under the chair. It's so interesting to watch them, when I'm alone, they crawl on me and bask, I guess. My friends. I miss my man and my mother, sometimes I roar so that you can’t stop, and the Nimble is the one who listens to me. »

II: Sergey (62 years old), Pukshenga village

“I worked at the stable with horses” - Sergey melts the stove. At 62, Sergey is very active, his house in the village of Pukshenga is clean and warm. Sergey has been living in this house since 2001, he moved to his parents after divorce with his ex wife with whom he never had children in common.

“My favorite horse was Frisky — he was so fast. I whistled to him from the other end of the village and he was right there. Yes, and the time was fun, we dangled with friends in neighboring villages, movies were played in the club, somebody brought them on reels.” Sergey says.
According to Sergey, all people left to Severodvinsk. “There was nothing to do here, there were almost no jobs in the late 70s. And in 1996, the lumber station was closed, there were even fewer people - by several dozen heads of cattle, there were only two workers – Sergey and his assistant. “He died here recently, they found him on December 19 near his house. All the horses have been sold or died. I am alone here for the most part of the time. Quite recently, the peasant went down. We drank with him for three days in August, it was a nightmare, it hurt me so much - I walked for five days like a fool, I don’t want to remember. After that, I didn’t take a drop in my mouth, ” Sergey says.
Sergey goes outside in a big hat with earflaps and shouts to me through the snow - “let me show you my horse!”. Opens the doors of a wooden building, and proudly displays his old snowmobile. “Here is my Frisky! The soul of my favorite horse lives inside this machine. Only the motor is almost broken, I'm afraid it won't survive until the end of the season. We went through a lot with this horse, I fell through the ice on the lake once on it, I won’t hide from drunkenness - the men saved me. When I woke up I told them - who are you? You drove us - they answer. Thanks God it was not deep there.”

I will not hide, sometimes the soul aches, I dream about horses, I remember them all well, how I ran my hand into their mane, the warmest place. I have recently dreamed about Frisky, he was so old, he died by his own death at the age of 27, they wanted to write him off for meat but I stood up for him.” Sergey says.

“Now I have a mobile phone, and a person to call - I got along with a woman Nina, maybe I have even fallen in love, not sure. She’s a good lady, though Nina is from Severodvinsk and rarely comes to my place – only in the Summer. There is a special place on my bed in the corner of bedroom where I can call from – there is a good signal here.” Sergey adds.

III: Aleksandr (77 years old), Tyrishkino village

A tall man is standing inside a small room and holding a huge lamp. “Sit down, let's talk, the evening is long. Now I’ll fry potatoes with some eggs,” he says. Cats gather from all over the room and sit around.

Sasha's parents lived in the neighboring house in the same village of Tyrishkino. The boy was born in 45, after the war ended. Sasha went to school in the village located a few kilometers from Tyrishkino. There were no roads and vehicles so he went by foot, every day. “Life was hard, not only for me for all of us, it was post-war period. But in the 60s there was a rise in the village. My father worked as a foreman, agriculture was developing. The village has always been small, at that time 20-25 people lived in Tyrishkino, but everyone communicated closely.” Alexander says measuredly.
Immediately after school, Sasha joined the army, served three years in Severomorsk. After that, he returned home for a short time, and then left for St. Petersburg. There were many relatives there - uncles, aunts, brothers. Alexander lived for 35 years there, worked as a shop mechanic until retirement. Only after that he got married.

“My mother called once and said that father was killed during some kind of quarrel. She was left alone. I decided to come back to Tyrishkino for a while to look after her. My wife did not mind, she was aware about the village lifestyle as we came here every summer. Eventually my mother has also died from cancer, then my wife fell ill and also died suddenly. All this happened very quickly." Alexander decided to stay in Tyrishkino, where he is the only resident now. One cold winter, a cat from the neighboring village of Zekhnova came to Alexander. The cat was scratching at the door, trying to gnaw on a frozen fish, “Then she asked to go inside, I gave some porridge to her,” says Alexander. "Now I have 11 cats and no time to get boring or lazy as I need to feed them - porridge, potatoes, boiled chicken paws... If there were no cats, I would probably kill myself from longing - sometimes the light is cut off, and I lie alone until morning in silence and darkness. My cats save me from this darkness. Also there is no time to drink vodka because of them." adds Alexander. "Here is Kimka, he ran away to the neighboring village for a couple of years in a row, I don’t even know why, he was drawn there like a magnet, once I went to that village to pick him up by myself. I pulled him out of the cellar. Maybe he looked for a partner there. Here is Ryzhik is the smartest - he pulls lumps out of porridge with his paw, which are much tastier, and Yegorka is fluffy like a lion, he is lying on the stove all day, I saved him from some kind of infection, gave him a teaspoon of vodka a day, he began to stir, came to his senses,” he adds.
A birch tree crackles in the oven, cats jump on Alexander's knees, begging for a crust of black bread.

IV: Andrey (57 years old), Bereznik village

Andrey's house smells like an ashtray, here and there are tins for "habariks" (cigarette butts - ed.). “I get three packs a day, I smoke Crosses (a brand of cigarettes).”
Andrey takes a deep puff and scratches his wrinkled cheek. “I was born here, right here, in Bereznik, we used to have a big farm. There used to be a school here, a club, but go and see – nothing left, everything is covered with snow - you can’t get through, the snow is up to your neck. The adults went for groceries together, it’s more fun that way. Children were running everywhere. The population gradually began to decrease after 1985 (Perestroika). People got drunk and died. I myself dug graves, buried people to get paid for that. Then my father died at the age of 57. Came back from a friend's funeral, poured himself a pot of vodka, drank in one gulp and didn't wake up. I don't know what got into him. I remember how I stood near his grave, I wanted to rush down, but my uncle grabbed me by the shoulder.” Andrey says.

In his youth, Andrey worked as a carpenter. Then, after another crazy night of drinking, he froze his legs. “In general, all the troubles are due to drunkenness. I was drinking vodka and fell asleep in a ditch, some guys found me, apparently they were returning from the local club, picked me up.. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have survived. I got up in the morning and could not feel my legs. Eventually, doctors cut off my fingers on both. After that I could not find any job except as a watchman.“ says Andrey.

“After that accident I was depressed and sheltered the former convict - Yurka, we also got together on the vodka basis. Yurka was imprisoned 4 times and every time for theft. I told him - you live here, but do not do bad deeds. So he lived with me for 5 years without any problems. He helped around the house, prepared firewood, even helped the neighboring old ladies with the housework. The man was cheerful and free. Sometimes he left somewhere for a week, and then he came with a bruise under his eye. Yes, he died drunk. He did not wake up in the morning – his heart stopped.” explains Andrey.

Later, the man was lucky to meet Varya from Shatogorka. “She was good, got involved in fishing under my influence, well, we drank together!” says Andrey, Once Varya went to her friend on her birthday, and on the way home she had a heart attack, she died. Andrey suffered for a year. “I was going crazy here, it seemed to me that she would come. I used to sit near her grave, I buried her myself, with my own hands.”
Gradually Andrei began to lose his brothers and sisters. He buried the last ones - Galka and Ninka, the elders. There were six in all. His mother also passed away. "Don't remember the dead too much, you have to live ”she told him before her death.

“There is no prospect here, everyone around died, damn it, the last neighbor died. All that was left of him were dogs that bark without stop in the neighboring house. I won't feed them, it's useless. There is nowhere to go and there is no choice, if I got married, maybe I would leave, but it’s too late, 57 already. I can go to Shilega or Yasny to visit, go for a week, sometimes guests come by themselves - convicts are on the run from the prison, they sit here drinking tea, telling stories, but lately they haven’t run as the nearest prison was closed. In the city, I tried to live in a hostel - but no, it’s not for me, I drank hard there - there is water, there is heating – so I did not have to do anything only sit down and drink, but in the village it won’t work out like that. Well and I try not to remember the dead too much – it scares me a lot. ”

V: Nikolay (52 years old), Kholm village

“Why are you filming my snowmobile. Do you want to steal it?” - a man jumped out of the house with his dog which barked loudly. “Come in, don’t be afraid, Baksik doesn’t bite, he just greets you like that.”
TV screams out loud, inside a tiny room - Nikolay is watching news and a program about fishing. “I graduated from a boarding school here, this house was beautiful long time ago, then I went to the army – borderline troops, then became a driver of a timber truck and all the love” - Nikolai laughs out loud and gesticulates very actively.

“I met my future wife right before going to the army, I did not know if she was waiting for me or not, whether she was faithful to me or not as I did not control her but we got married later” - again loud laughter and a very loud sip of tea. At first, the young family lived in Pinega, a large village, and their parents occupied the house in Kholm. Nikolay worked hard. “I spent half my life behind the wheel, like many men from this area, the woods is the main occupation here, so I drove it, but along such terrible roads, God! I did not know how I survived. A lot of people died during accidents of the road” Nikolay says.
Relations with his wife quickly deteriorated. Nikolay continued driving his trucks. Later on his parents died, and the eldest son took his own life for the unknown reason. He was a drug addict. Eventually Nikolay decided to return to the house in Kholm, already abandoned at that time.

“The house needs to be put in order, it has fallen into disrepair just like the whole area is useless to anyone. I tidied up in my parents’ room, turned off the light, covered everything with polyethylene, I don’t even want to go in there and disturb anything there. Despite the difficulties, I feel good here, to be honest. I'm used to being alone. You sit behind the wheel of the truck for 16-18 hours, sometimes in complete silence, and sometimes with music, you learn to communicate with yourself. So it turns out that I am the best interlocutor for myself, well, a TV set also saves me with all that stuff like news and fishing program. It is better for me to stay away from people as I got only troubles from them, spiritual wounds. Even judging by the experience of working as a driver, there were different situations on the road, I could die and cripple others, all this was a human factor. Here you come from the city, you are afraid of bears or wolves but the most terrible beast is a human being. So I can live here alone easily. But the fact that there is no doctor is a disaster, of course. Once I pulled out my own wisdom tooth and went to the doctor with it. I take it out of my pocket, the doctor hatched at me and said – no way you pulled it out by yourself! But I did!” Nikolay laughs.

“Oh, now I’ll take a pill against the pain in my main engine (Nikolay is pointing at his heart) and go dig trenches, I fell myself as a truck breaking through these masses of snow every winter, but at the same time it is a good way of exercising.” Nikolay laughs. It was dark outside, the only source of light in this blackness was a small light bulb on Nikolay's porch.

VI: Katya (58 years old), Sergey (61 years old), Vonga village

Katya worked in the city of Velsk until 1983 as a house painter, then there was a business trip to a farm in Petrovo. “Here you are, I came to meet the local Sergey and stayed in Vonga, got a job as an inseminator.” - says Katya - “And Sergey turned out to be an amateur poet!”
Sergey loudly reads his poem dedicated to the day he met his future wife and pats himself on the stomach with both hands. “That's how I found her when I drove these girls to the farm. I invited her to the club for dancing, and everything started to spin. We danced to hell!” Sergey laughs.

The farm was closed in 2000, Sergey took up a private carriage service, Katya was engaged in farming, then she still had her own cattle. “Now only one cow is left - Kapa and her calf. I will not characterize the cow in any way, we are village people - superstitious. You can’t say anything, either good or bad about it“ says Katya. “Our children immediately left after school as they no longer had any job options,” Sergey adds, “We are still here and at home, and when we are gone, and we are left with something, all this will disappear. I don’t want to move, we have grown here, and it’s good everywhere where we are not. We have nature here, a fish - I once caught 100 perch at a time, I met a bear, I got scared, oh my mother, but she screamed screechingly and he draped, scared away all the birds, and the fox comes every day. And in the spring expanse - you look there, here, you can see everything.

A blizzard rises outside the window, Katya looks at Sergei, silence. Sergei beats the rhythm with his palms on the table and solemnly says, “Right now I composed another verse! Do you want to listen to it?”

VII: Gennadiy (67 years old), Kurga village

“I was born in Kalinigrad, do you know such a city? Gennady is looking out the window at the village of Kurga and stroking his dog Garik, who lies quietly at his feet. “This falling snow hypnotizes me sometimes. So my youth was very stormy. In Kaliningrad, I was in prison. The first prison term I got for a fight in the restaurant. At the age of 27 I was released but after 3 months I went back to prison for a fight again. The last term of 8 years I have already served in the Arkhangelsk region for beating three people who attacked me during disco. I immediately told them when they started to beat me at the disco during a smoke break - if you don’t kill me now, I’ll come to kill you tomorrow, they were drunk, all of us were The next day I came to take revenge, found out through friends where they lived. The judge, who sentenced me for the fourth time, said - “When are you gonna calm down?” But it was not me who needed to calm down. All the time I was defending myself.” Gennadiy says.
After his forth sentence Gennadiy found a job as a driver, regularly went on business trips. Only at the age of 45 he married for the 5th time. Gennadiy calls this marriage “the real marriage”. Previous marriages were not entirely sincere as the man explains “I just wanted to sleep with a woman but she wanted to get marry first. There was no love from my side."

"My wife and I settled in a house built by her distant relatives, in this very Kurga. Her children became mine. At first, life here was unusual - I missed the Baltic Sea and its smell, well, there was no electricity, we sat with a kerosene stove for several years. But the surprising thing is that I somehow calmed down here, found peace of mind or something. I stopped fighting, I stopped getting sentences, but I didn’t lose my sense of justice, I am still ready to break someone's nose for the good cause. It’s just a pity that it’s not particularly possible to get in contact with children in Kaliningrad, there I have two children left from previous marriages.” Gennadiy adds“Look, the sun is already setting, 4 o'clock. I like it here, I drink less than in the city – there is a lot of work to be done. In the evening I watch TV, since now there is a generator - I love films with Steven Seagal, Van Damme since the 90s, MMA wrestling and football - that’s how we live. Also I like watching news, go Putin! In short, I am glad that life turned out this way, that I ended up in Kurga. It's for the best. ”says Gennady, making the strongest tea with 4 tea bags.

“I’ll tell you something else, I saw a UFO here when I first arrived. We rested with other drivers in some hotel. Suddenly we saw the flash, run out to the lake and evidenced the UFO, it’s a pity we didn’t photograph it, but everyone saw it, not only me. And in Talaga village people say that the little man came out of the space ship, stood for a while and disappeared with a flash. This land has power.” Gennadiy adds, took a big sip of thick black tea and looked into the inky sky outside the window.

VIII: Lydia (79 years old), Sasha (54 years old), Piliegory village

Lydia was born in the midst of the war, on January 6, 43. There was a famine in Piliegory, however, as elsewhere in the USSR. At the end of the 8th grade, Lydia went to study as a buttermaker. “There was everything - a post office, an oil plant, a farm, a club, everything. It’s hard to remember, because the stroke hit me several years ago,” the woman says. “There was a lot of things to do, we got up at 4 a.m. in the morning to milk our cattle, and then went to work at 8 a.m. to the state farm. I carried cream and milk on a cart - it was physically difficult especially for a young woman. I put a stick in the wheels instead of brakes so that my cart couldn’t slide down the hill, then went home and milk my cattle again, then cook." - Lydia says.
“I met my husband Victor at a concert, he came to Piliegory for rehearsals at a local club. He played the harmonica. In addition to the club, we had really good times. Everyone celebrated the festivals all together. Everything was on the table, acres of overseas products. Then we had two sons. When I was 23, Kolka was born, and 5 years later - Sasha, ” Lydia says. The boys were mischievous, they stole peas, ran into the fields and ate it there while no one was watching, they loved to play hockey on the lake.

“Our village has one specialty - lightning hit the houses and trees here. Scientists say something lies under our mountain, maybe some kind of rock which attracts electricity. One day lightning hit the neighboring house so the husband and sons went to install a lightning rod next to it. This rod saved us from this mystical things 5 times at least, that's for sure." Lydia continues.

Lydia's sons worked, Sasha helped at the children's camp and Kolya at the state farm.“Sasha was injured - he hit his head, fell from a tractor, became partially disabled. Kolka went to live in Pinega because of the lack of work in the countryside. The husband died 14 years ago, as did his sister and brother. The farm gradually fell into disrepair, devastation began, sellers were needed in the store, so I went there to work – I did not have any other choice." Lydia explains.
She worked there for 18 years and retired as the store was closed. "It's a pity, after all, the entire left side of Pinega is like this - in oblivion. Who will save agriculture now? Sasha and I are coping, keeping sheep, it turns out that we are the last inhabitants here." Lydia adds. “We won’t show you our sheep, villagers are superstitious people, animals will get scared and stop eating or you will jinx them!” says Sasha and starts to laugh. “Our lightning rod is standing, so we are not afraid of that. And all the lightnings have already shot out.” Lydia says.

IX: Zhenya (66 years old), Salima village

A light is on in the barn, it can be seen from afar even behind a blizzard and snow. Inside, Zhenya is repairing his snowmobile - “Bloody hell, I went for water, but I almost got stuck in the middle of the lake, everything goes to hell, I already fixed it out for the thousandth time, but it’s all the same. So if I stuck on the lake, then what? Nobody will help, I will just freeze to death” - Zhenya swears, nervously rubs his chin with a hand in a greasy glove. Outside is just a black void, an abyss.
In the house, water boils on the stove and a kettle whistles. A fat clumsy dog with very kind eyes fusses around, fits under the table right on Zhenya's legs begging for something tasty from his plate. “Oh, you stupid Jessica, now I’ll cook pasta for you - she lives with me like a queen, eats like in the luxury restaurant. I picked her up when she was a puppy, somebody threw her out of the house, she was not needed there, but it came in handy for me, I love her. At least the house is not empty with her. My wife fell ill with cancer and went to the city for treatment, I’m here alone.”says Zhenya.

“In the 80s, it was generally good here, houses, farms. I drove a tractor. Later on the state farm collapsed. Suddenly I became unemployed. I drove goods to local shops from the town in order to survive somehow. My kids left this place, nothing to do here. Now there is nothing left, even the store is closed, my soul aches, but what can I do? But you know what - it’s safe here! - no locks need to be hung on the door, no one will steal anything - as there is noone here except my neighbors! But to be honest we do not see each other frequently and it is not possible to visit them sometimes due to the snowstorms. You can also leave the equipment until the morning, no one will touch it. Only wolves are annoying - they steal dogs. We had a dog Lapka - they ate it. Only a piece of wool was found. Sometimes you sit like that, look out the window, and a wolf runs through the darkness, it happens that there are more than one, they are the most dangerous in packs as they hunt like this” Zhenya says.

The light goes out, Zhenya pulls on a headlamp. “Fuck that light – the most important thing that we are inside, in the warm place, right now we’ll make soup and dumplings. Let's drink some tea."
Zhenya gets up early, it's dark, he needs to do housework. “Okay, it is time for you to leave If you meet a wolf, then crawl back or shoot back with your camera. But they didn’t attack a person one by one in my memory, don’t be afraid." Zhenya laughs.

X: Yuri (65 years old), Semenovo Village

Yuri's house is noticeable from afar - this is the only well-groomed building on the banks of Kenozero. A red military star can bee seen on the facade - this means that veterans lived here. Yuri is sitting at the table under the icons. He slowly lights up a cigarette and starts to scold Gorbachev and the Democrats loudly and juicy. "They ruined everything!" he shouts.
“My mother was a medical worker, her salary was really small, I remember how she brought a loaf of white bread and instead of eating I ran to show it to the village boys and they ate it all! Childhood was tough, there were problems with food until the 60s, but despite all that it was fun playing hide and seek with the local boys or just beating each other to bruises” Yuri says.

After eight classes, Yuri went to a vocational school to study as a tractor driver. Then he served in the army in Leningrad. Before the service, Yuri met a girl from Petrozavodsk, who came every summer to Semenovo. She promised to wait for him to return from the army however she found another groom - one of Yuri's best friends, with whom they served together, fought, standing up for each other. The man does not hold a grudge against them although he considers this a betrayal.
“I went to work. It saved me from bad thoughts. First, on a tractor, and then as a manager. There was a lot of work and so many cattle which require attention. We, together with other friends and co-workers also had good rest in the village, fought constantly, especially with guys from other villages and for any reason., so to speak, in every gang there is a ringleader. I fought very often. We also drank hard. Vodka flowed like a river.” - Yuri says.

“I was really stressed because of my personal life, there were 22 single guys in the village and only one girl Ninka. Eventually she didn’t get married as she didn’t choose anyone. I decided to leave to Murmansk in search for happiness. There I worked as a laborer at the state farm. At work I saw a woman, beautiful and nice. Gradually we began to communicate in the dining room over tea. Then, on some holiday, I invited her to my place, she could not return home as it was too late so she stayed. After that we got married and had kids." Yuri says.

In the 90s, after the collapse of the USSR the farm in Murmansk closed, the relationship with his wife deteriorated greatly and Yuri returned back to Semenovo to his house which was abandoned. Those who worked in the Far North in Murmansk were entitled to a pension after 15 years of work. Yuri counted on that a lot, but this law was canceled and he had to look for employment opportunities which war really hard in his age. For a while, he had to live on unemployment benefits. “It was very scary to look at our native land and what happened to it, but I did not cry, as I had to restore and patch up the house,” Yuri says.

Yuri lightens up one more cigarette, looks at the window. “This place is forgotten but no one will betray me here. I go to the settlements once every three weeks, as soon as the bread runs out.”

PLAY

STOP

GRID

FULL

LOVE

Thumbnail of Arkhangelsk region on the map (marked in red).

Public Story

Behind the Snow

Copyright Sergei Stroitelev 2024

Updated Jul 2022

Behind the Snow

I cross the Northern Dvina through a blizzard on a snowmobile, it is not possible to see the other shore of the river because of the fog. Today is the 10th day of my journey through the vast Arkhangelsk region. I just listen to silence and cannot believe that somebody live here, behind the snow.

I was born in this region of Russia. My native village does not exist anymore, not a single brick left. It was abandoned many years ago. This part of Russia has the most number of such villages in the whole country. I went back there to find villages with one residents left. It was important for me as it will give me some hope that this forgotten land is still alive. I have found 10 places, talked to people learning their stories, documented their daily routine. They are rude like real northerners and you need to earn their trust. They live alone on the land in which they have grown roots, finding strength and reasons to continue on their way, some with the help of memories, pets, songs or alcohol. These people have witnessed several epochs of Russia. They have seen how difficult times have turned their land into oblivion.

It seems to me that it is incredibly important that these abandoned places have their own face. Sometimes it is impossible to realize that someone lives in the villages until you see the smoke from the chimney.

The current project reveals the present of real Russia which is hidden by propaganda. The testimonies of these people constitute the story of Russia itself and what happened to the country after the collapse of the USSR.

Arkhangelsk region (Russia), 2021 - ongoing

2,307

Sergei Stroitelev

Also by Sergei Stroitelev —

Earthquake in Turkey (2023)

I feel like I am sitting in a black emotional hole

Sacred Cremations

Magnificent Man

Russian Women's Bags from the Inside

The Revived

From Day to Day

Where the Champions Are Born

The Outcasts

The Vicious Circle / The Edge - Drug Addiction in Nepal

Book - "The Color of Violence"

The Second Home (Moldovans who sheltered Ukrainian refugees)

Two wars - Ukrainian veterans of the WWII now refugees in Moldova

Migration Crisis in Moldova

Stigma

Lost Light

Sologubovka

Am I Not Scared Anymore?

Inside I See

Holy Waters

Teresa's Hands

Welcome Home

The Connection

The Spit