Three perspectives on photography, travel, and inspiration

– What led you to photography, and why did you decide to stay?

– It so happened that in my third year, I was expelled from university, and I had a full year before I could be reinstated. At that moment, it felt like the only thing truly available to me was to pick up a camera and start shooting. A friend had once suggested photography to me – I gave it a try and got hooked. That was 16 years ago.

– Why portrait photography in particular?

– I’m interested in people – in studying them, in rediscovering them through images. And through that same process, through communication and interaction, I learn something new about myself as well.

To create a compelling portrait, you need at least a degree of trust. Without communication – even minimal – it’s very difficult. But there are times when building that connection is simply not possible, often because there isn’t enough time.

For me, photography is, in a way, a mediator – a reason and a means to get a little closer to someone than we normally would in everyday social life.

– Do you remember the first portrait that became your entry point into the genre?

– It was actually only my second shoot. The subject was a girl I really liked at the time. I managed to capture a very natural moment – her beautiful smile, the instant she suddenly laughed in the frame. It turned into a sincere, vivid photograph. The emotion was completely unposed.

– How do you know when you want to photograph someone?

– The truth is, it’s my job. Most of the time, I don’t really choose who I want or don’t want to shoot. As a professional, I’m expected to create strong portraits regardless. Of course, I reserve the right to decline certain shoots, but from a professional standpoint, I’m responsible for delivering a result.

If we’re talking about personal criteria, the first things I notice are facial texture and the eyes. Eyes probably matter even more to me – they reflect a person’s essence. You just have to look closely and engage a little.

The deeper a person’s gaze, the more experience they carry, and the more interesting it is to work with them. I set myself the task of bringing that experience to the surface – the pain, the inner drama – and revealing it in the image.

– Have you ever discovered something unexpected about a subject through a portrait?

– For me, it’s not about facts, but about essence – understanding who a person is from within and how to approach them. I accept that I may have photographed people who, factually speaking, don’t have the best biographies. But even they are interesting to shoot, because such individuals are often complex and layered.

I never take on the role of a judge. My goal is to convey, as objectively as possible, that small fragment of a person’s character and soul that I was able to capture.

– Do you have favorite photographs?

– I try to make every shoot memorable – technically, psychologically, emotionally. It helps me avoid routine and approach each session with a fresh perspective. But if I had to single something out, it would be individual portraits rather than full projects. And often, they’re not public figures but random passersby – on the streets of Europe or in the bazaars of Central Asia. Sometimes one such frame gives more than a major commission.

– Which of your projects received a particularly strong audience response?

– One of the most recent would be our shoot with the first female pilot, Susan Mamedova, for Centrum Travel Magazine. The response truly surprised us. The shoot itself, the visual storytelling, and the subject were all received very warmly. The idea of a female pilot resonated strongly in the era of women’s empowerment.

It’s also very meaningful to see more people paying attention to my social projects – those involving children, illness, and people with disabilities. That kind of recognition means a lot.

– Have you faced any seemingly insurmountable challenges in your work or shoots?

– There’s only one thing I would call truly insurmountable – reaching people who are no longer alive. Everything else can be overcome; it’s just a matter of time.

That said, I do sometimes turn down projects for various reasons. At times, it’s because people behave inappropriately or show a lack of respect – toward me or the profession itself. Photography is often underestimated, seen as something “easy” that shouldn’t cost much. Fortunately, in recent years, I encounter such attitudes less often, and more people genuinely want to work with me.

– You travel frequently. Do your trips inspire you to photograph or shoot portraits?

– I really do find myself in a new country almost every month – a kind of nomadic photographer. And yes, of course, inspiration comes. In fact, I often travel precisely in search of it. It’s always there – especially in new places, cities, and faces. You simply can’t miss it if your heart is open and your eye is sharp.

– What draws you most when you travel?

– People. Every person is incredibly multifaceted – it’s an endless source of inspiration. And in different countries, that inspiration always feels different. Different textures, different depth, and a different approach required each time. It’s always fascinating to capture something unique. Photographing people in Morocco is one thing; in Spain, Germany, or elsewhere – it’s completely different every time.

Next week I’m flying to Turkey, closer to the Syrian border, and I’m already anticipating what kind of material I’ll be able to shoot and the people I’ll meet. The atmosphere there is entirely different – the cultural layer, the history, the clothing, the textures, the emotions, even the weather. That’s what I’m constantly chasing in my work – variety.

– What makes a city special for a photographer?

– I can explain using Tangier in Morocco as an example. It sits on the Strait of Gibraltar, and you can already see Spain from there. It’s an incredibly layered place, combining multiple cultural influences. The city has been, at different times, Portuguese, Spanish, Arab, and even French. All these peoples, civilizations, and eras have left their mark, forming a kind of mosaic that’s a joy to observe.

I’m especially drawn to coastal cities, because people who grow up by the sea have a completely different skin tone, a different texture.

– Do you recharge during your travels? Do you have favorite places or “places of power”?

– For me, travel is always tied to having a camera in hand. I don’t separate shooting from life. Photography is neither just work nor simply holiday snapshots.

As for places, lately it’s been Paris. I’m drawn to its chaos and ambiguity. Maybe that’s why I don’t even notice how I end up walking 25–30 kilometers a day. I can just wander without a plan, meeting interesting people along the way – people who then remain in my photographs.

– Are there any features, besides the eyes, that are essential for you in portrait photography?

– I think everything matters, but for me the key is a unique facial texture. Last summer in Georgia, I photographed a man with vitiligo – distinct pigmentation patterns that formed intricate designs across his face. For the person themselves, vitiligo rarely feels like something beautiful; they’re not always comfortable with being photographed and often feel self-conscious. Still, I see it almost as a gift – with its own challenges, of course.

In Dubai, I met a pair of albinos: the girl didn’t want to pose, but I managed to photograph the young man. And in Morocco, I came across a dark-skinned albino – an even rarer case. Recently, I photographed a girl with a scar on her face, and that too is a mark in which I find beauty. I’m drawn to finding beauty where others see imperfection, and I’m grateful to those who allow me to capture it.

Kirill Umrikhin is a sports and travel photographer, and a brand ambassador for Nikon, Outex, Manfrotto, and SanDisk. For nearly 20 years, he has been shooting extreme sports, expeditions, and travels around the world. His work has been published in international media, and his clients include Apple, Red Bull, Nike, Adidas, and other global brands.

– What led you to photography?

– It started with love – the desire to create something, to capture a moment. Back in school, I dreamed of becoming an artist, a designer, or an architect, but when it came time to apply, I realized it was too difficult for me. Photography felt different: you press a button, and you already have a result.

In a way, the choice was symbolic. My grandfather spent his entire life working at the KMZ factory in Krasnogorsk, near Moscow, where the famous Zenit cameras were made. When he saw my passion for photography, he gave me my first camera. That’s when I began shooting school reportages – and immediately understood that this was going to be my profession.

I also knew from the very beginning what I wanted to see through the lens: travel and sport. As a child, I would go to the mountains with my father – tents in the summer, snowboarding in the winter – and I always had a camera with me. My love for photography naturally merged with my love for adventure and extreme sports. My mother always said you should do what you love. Once I truly understood that, I set my mind on becoming a photographer.

– Do you prefer traveling alone or in company?

– Sometimes I travel alone. The last time was for a supermoon shoot in Joshua Tree National Park in California – one of the most beautiful places to observe the night sky. But those trips are rare; I much prefer traveling with others. When it comes to sports, it’s always about the team.

Over the past ten years, my travels have fallen into two categories: either work trips – yacht expeditions, where I also act as a team leader – or commercial shoots in the mountains.
The second type is traveling with my wife. She’s a professional athlete and windsurfer, so a few times a year we travel to the ocean as a family – she trains, and I shoot. Usually, it’s Mauritius, South Africa, or Egypt.

– Which trip has been the most memorable?

– I believe the best trip is always the one that ended most recently – because the emotions are still fresh. This year marks 20 years of traveling for me, and in all that time, I’ve rarely gone even a month without a trip. With that kind of experience, you’re constantly choosing between returning to places you already love or discovering new ones.

That said, expeditions to Antarctica will stay with me forever. I’ve been there three times, and I consider it one of the most beautiful and unique places on the planet – especially from a photographic perspective. It makes you feel closer to space, to other planets, than anywhere else on Earth.

– You mentioned the choice between returning to familiar places and exploring new ones. Have you ever rediscovered a place you’d already visited?

– Even traveling to the same place is always a slightly different experience – if only because of curiosity. Photography plays a big role here: you keep exploring, looking for new locations and unexpected angles.

A good example for me is Egypt. We used to go there often for windsurfing. The village of Dahab, on the Gulf of Aqaba, is a true mecca for wind sports, as well as diving and freediving.

During the first wave of COVID, we ended up staying there for six months simply because flights stopped. Before that, I had only come for the sport, and it didn’t feel particularly cozy. But after living there for half a year, I fell in love with it completely. Dahab became almost like a second home – a place you can return to and feel you belong.

– What did you discover or feel during that time?

– It’s an Eastern country, part of the Arab world. For instance, you hear the call to prayer from the minarets at night. At first, it felt unusual – I would wake up all the time. But eventually you get used to it, and even start wondering what exactly is being sung.

Many locals don’t speak English, so you begin picking up Arabic words just to understand – or at least try to. The same goes for mentality. We made an effort to communicate with people – taxi drivers, market vendors – and over time, they become very close to you.

I also began exploring the mountains of the Sinai desert, and on later trips we started going there for climbing. It became a new passion – an entirely new world. And of course, the place is rich in history. It’s considered a cradle of civilization, where so much has happened over thousands of years – from the construction of St. Catherine’s Monastery to ancient desert dolmens. It’s impossible not to be captivated by it.

– Are there destinations you’re especially looking forward to?

– I’d really like to explore Latin America more deeply – Mexico, Chile, Peru. These are incredibly interesting regions for a photographer.

I’ve also spent relatively little time in Asia, especially Central Asia. It still feels like a mystery to me – the people, the landscapes – all of which I’d love to capture. But for every trip, I need an idea. I don’t want to travel just as a tourist to popular spots. I’m convinced that every place holds something unique. I believe that every location, every subject, has at least one perfect angle – and as a photographer, I’m always trying to find it.

– What do you usually take with you when you travel – besides your camera?

– My packing is pretty simple: just regular clothes suited to the weather. I believe that if you’re comfortable, your photos will turn out better. It’s hard to shoot when you’re freezing or overheating.

I do have one small travel ritual, though. At the end of every trip, when I unpack my suitcase, I always find one item – usually the one that took up the most space – that I never used at all. I make a mental note of it every time, and over the years it’s turned into a whole parade of unnecessary things.

When you travel for long periods, you might want to bring something that feels like an anchor. But for me, for the past 20 years, the whole world has been constant movement – and for the last four years, also relocation: first to Portugal, then to the United States. If there’s anything I always try to take with me to feel at home, it’s my family. And among things – photographs, even if they’re just digital.

– Have you faced situations in your travels that felt truly challenging or required you to find a way out?

– Very often. Working in extreme environments – mountains or the ocean – always brings surprises. You have to be ready for them, relying on your experience.

Once in Mauritius, we had to rescue a drowning man. He had been carried away by the current and likely would have been smashed against the reefs if no one had been nearby. We managed to pull him onto a boat, but nearly got into serious trouble ourselves. I think it was August 14. Since then, my camerawoman friend – who was seriously injured that day – and I celebrate it as our second birthday. At the very least, we know we saved one unlucky tourist from France.

And in Antarctica, while crossing the Drake Passage at night, two of our sails tore at once – the wind gusts exceeded 200 km/h. As Baron Munchausen once said when asked how he could prove his stories: “I am still alive – which means the story goes on.”

– How do extreme experiences shape you as a photographer? What role do emotions play?
– In extreme situations, it’s crucial to keep emotions under control. Fear or overexcitement can lead to bad outcomes.

To those who don’t practice extreme sports, it might seem reckless, but at a professional level, every step is calculated. There are always multiple plans and fallback options behind every action. There’s a team ensuring safety, avalanche training in the mountains, knowledge of the ocean – its currents and waves – an understanding of your own limits, and constant attention to forecasts. Thanks to sailing, I still check the weather almost every day, just to see where the wind is coming from.

Over time, the emotions themselves become more subdued, but sharing that experience remains powerful. Extreme sports, mountains, and the ocean are captivating in themselves – and most importantly, they inspire people to change something: to take up sports, to care for nature.

For example, we once photographed whales – my wife was swimming with them underwater. I used those images to draw attention to how humanity impacts wildlife. We share this planet with wild animals, and it’s important to understand how – and whether – we should interact with them. Through photography, I try to show that, explain it, or even better understand it myself.

In my work, I look for a message, for storytelling – not just a beautiful image. Some shots are visually striking, and that’s enough. Others need context and meaning. I feel closer to photojournalism – to narrative – because I believe it can inspire change.

– Have people ever told you how your work influenced them?

– Yes. Once in Los Angeles, at a surf spot about 100 kilometers from the city, a guy paddled up to me and said he recognized me. It turned out that back in school, he used to watch my videos about photography and travel. They inspired him so much that he decided to become a photographer himself – and later moved to the U.S. too. Hearing that meant a lot to me.

There was another case in Kamchatka, during an environmental disaster. I tried to draw attention to it. Sometimes the response is positive – people thank you. Other times, people assume you have some hidden agenda.

But ultimately, what matters most are your own intentions as an author. Mine are simple–to make the world at least a little better.

– Does fear get in your way, or does it help you?

– It definitely helps. Fear is a survival instinct – it protects us from danger, both physical and mental. The key is learning how to work with it. You can tune it to help you – or let it work against you.

Near our home, there’s a beautiful place – Palos Verdes, a small marine reserve. Underwater, there are real kelp forests, almost like jungles. Swimming there can feel quite unsettling. First, there are sharks. They don’t attack people, but when you see one nearby, it’s still scary. Second, it’s easy to get tangled in the “jungle”: waves move the seaweed, and it feels like you’re being pulled down. You start working with that fear, studying it – and gradually, you grow.

The same goes for freediving. When you dive deep, there’s an initial panic–after all, it’s unnatural for a human to be underwater without breathing. You have to work through that resistance: calm yourself, conserve energy and oxygen, observe your body and the underwater world.

– Have there been moments when fear won or when you chose to walk away from a shot?

– Of course, many times. I’m not the kind of person who will stand on the very edge of a cliff just for a photo. In those moments, fear works exactly as it should. The choice is simple: a viral shot with lots of likes – or the risk of slipping and falling. Quite often, I look at a scene like that and think: no, it’s not worth it.

I was once called the number one extreme blogger in Russia – back in the LiveJournal days. But I don’t see myself that way. I’m someone who thinks a hundred times before acting. We’ve had tragic cases in this field – fatalities and serious injuries. And from that, I’ve learned one thing: no photograph is worth your life or your health. Risk can only ever be deliberate and controlled.

– What do travel and photography have in common?

– The search. Through photography, you search for yourself because every image is a reflection of the author, shaped by a personal way of seeing the world. The same is true of travel: we don’t just discover new places, we grow as individuals and learn something about ourselves.

One of the greatest values of the 21st century is the ability to travel. It takes us to places completely different from what we know and brings us into contact with people we would never meet at home.

– Was there a turning point in your creative journey – a moment after which everything changed?

– Internally, I always try to place myself back at the beginning. I don’t measure my path in milestones or achievements. Of course, sometimes you pause and look back at things like awards or magazine covers. But when I pick up a camera, I try to think as if I don’t know anything and want to discover everything through the act of shooting. So my point of no return is, I hope, still ahead.

A defining moment for me was my first flight. I didn’t come from a wealthy family, and I only flew for the first time at 18 – it was a work trip with a snowboarding magazine. When I realized that photography could take me around the world, open doors, and connect me with people, I understood: this is the best profession there is.

Now I occasionally teach at international schools and give lectures to high school students in Lisbon. One of them is called “Photography Opens Every Door.” And when it truly started opening doors for me – to people, places, opportunities – I knew I didn’t want to do anything else.

– Have you gained any wisdom or perspective from other cultures?

– In every new place, I try at least once to cook a local dish – and if it turns out well, I take the recipe with me.

I’ll mention Mauritius again. We always stayed in the same house, owned by a Creole man named Lal, a fisherman by trade. Although Hinduism is widespread on the island, Lal wasn’t particularly religious, but he deeply believed in karma. Every morning, my wife and I would treat him to coffee and breakfast, and he would cook rice and curry for us. The dinners were so good that I asked him to show me how to prepare them.

His girlfriend taught me to cook, and in return, I showed them how to make herring under a fur coat. That exchange – that warmth, when you do something for someone simply to bring them joy – changed the way I see the world. My understanding of karma, which exists in many cultures, came from that experience, and I still believe it’s important to do good without expecting anything in return.

As both a person and a photographer, my goal is to make the world a little better. In the U.S., there’s a principle in national parks: “Leave nothing except traces.” I would expand that: it’s not just about leaving no harm behind, but about leaving traces that make the world better.
Do what you love. Take photographs. Care for nature and for the people around you. Travel. It’s one of the greatest opportunities we have, one we sometimes take for granted because it has become so accessible.

Ernest Kurtveliev is a multidisciplinary photographer from Uzbekistan, working across genres – from portrait and reportage to landscape and documentary photography. In 2025, he represented Uzbekistan at the exhibition Regards sur l’Asie Centrale (“A Look at Central Asia”) in Paris.

– What brought you into this field, and how did it happen?

– As a child, I didn’t plan to become a photographer – or anything close to it. I wanted to be a biologist, a zoologist, or an ornithologist. I was also drawn to technology and even considered becoming a mechanic. Then, quite unexpectedly, I became a musician and dedicated more than 15 years to it – but eventually found my way to photography.

A classmate of mine had a camera. He used to bring it to school, and we’d mess around, taking pictures. It caught my attention – not strongly at first, but enough to spark interest. I chose photography as a hobby, even though at one point my parents discouraged me, worrying it would affect my studies.

– How did your first landscape come about, and why did you stay with this genre?

– I have quite a broad professional background, and at different stages of my career, I went through different creative phases. I started as a news photographer, shooting reportage, working with black-and-white film – developing and printing everything by hand.

Later, I moved into glossy magazines: I shot portfolios, fashion, glamour, runway shows. For about 11 years, I worked as the chief photographer at Bella Terra, a prominent men’s magazine. Our publishing house produced four magazines, so the work covered multiple направления. I had to shoot an incredibly wide range of subjects – from heart surgeries, dressed in scrubs and masks, to jewelry. I worked as a still-life photographer, a food photographer, shot fashion, portraits, reportage – literally everything.

In recent years, my work has shifted more toward landscapes – something I feel most drawn to. In general, I’m close to anything natural: nature, animals, landscapes, and, of course, documentary work.

My very first attempts at photography were actually landscapes and still lifes. Back then, I was shooting on black-and-white film – it was the 1990s, maybe even earlier. Unlike many of my peers, I came into photography completely from scratch. I had no mentors, no friends or relatives who could guide me. Everything I learned – especially in the beginning was through trial and error. Even when developing film, I didn’t initially know it had to be done in complete darkness. I would develop it, take it out, look at it, then try again – that’s how I learned.

I developed many skills simply by studying photographs in magazines – looking at reflections in the eyes, shadows, trying to understand the lighting, the setup, the dynamics within the frame.

Even later, when I was already an established photographer, I had neither teachers nor students. At the time, there was no YouTube or easy access to learning. At best, there were Soviet academic books, which focused little on creativity. Occasionally, I came across translated foreign editions – but they were rare, and I read them cover to cover.

– How has your perception of landscape changed over the years?

– The only thing that has truly changed is technology. It’s much easier to work with now: there are more lenses suited for wildlife, and cameras have improved significantly. But the core principle hasn’t changed. Classical landscape photography is still based on a viewer’s intuitive perception. A person may not understand the technical details, but when they look at an image, they either feel drawn to it or indifferent. That’s the essence of it – no deep analysis required.

Of course, more advanced viewers may look for something more complex: not just a sunset, but movement, dynamics, and a certain message. But fundamentally, my perception of landscape hasn’t changed.

– So does your perception of reality change when you look through the lens?

– Yes. But it’s not even just about looking through the lens. When you start composing a frame, you begin to observe perspective more carefully, noticing details you’d normally overlook. You can glance at a landscape and walk on, but when you intend to photograph it, you start studying the clouds, the movement of light, the composition. Your mind begins to work differently. You engage more deeply, you explore more, and any kind of understanding makes life more interesting.

– Is photography, for you, more about observation or dialogue?

– Probably observation. I’ve noticed that I’m more interested in being an observer – rather than intervening, I prefer to reflect reality as it is.

Photography differs from other visual arts. A painter can add, remove, or alter elements – transform reality. Photography, however, carries a certain responsibility, because people tend to perceive it as a claim to truth. That’s why in media, reportage, and news, photographs are used as proof that something actually happened.

These days, there’s a lot of debate in the photography community about artificial intelligence. Many wonder why AI-generated images shouldn’t be placed on the same level as traditional photography. Visually, they can be compelling – but the essence of photography is not the image itself. Photography is about what it reflects. It captures reality, and the more truthfully it does so, the more valuable it becomes. A beautiful image without reality behind it is, in essence, an empty shell.

At the same time, it’s important to understand that photography – even while claiming truth – is not a literal copy of an event. It is the photographer’s view. They choose the angle, the moment, the mood. Through these choices, reality is filtered through personal perception. That is where creativity lies and where responsibility begins. A photograph must remain truthful, but it is a truth as seen by you.

– What draws you most in photography?

– I’m closest to nature. The wilder it is, the more compelling it becomes. That said, I wouldn’t say I’m drawn to it exclusively. Urban landscapes can be beautiful too – especially when architecture harmonizes with its surroundings. But the farther you move away from civilization, the more interesting it gets: there’s more untouched nature.

In our country, this can sometimes be a challenge – there are often large fences, country houses, structures that don’t quite fit the landscape. In contrast, in places like the Alps or the Netherlands, you see how architecture is integrated as if it were part of nature.
At the same time, Uzbekistan is still not fully explored. Over the past decade, it has become easier to travel and shoot here, but there are still many places that remain inaccessible – even for journalists.

Our territory is vast, with incredibly diverse landscapes: from mountain glaciers to deserts and sand dunes. There’s even a kind of “sea” theme. In that sense, the creative range here is enormous.

– How do you know when a shot has truly worked?

– It’s hard to say. There’s a special satisfaction when you experience something in real life a moment or a landscape and then see that you’ve managed to capture it in an image. But our natural perception of the world is three-dimensional, and it can never fully translate into a flat 2D image. Not everything can be conveyed and that’s part of the photographer’s craft: to translate reality onto a plane. Experience and technical skill play a major role here.

Sometimes you realize that even the most beautiful and atmospheric scene can’t be directly translated into a photograph. Then the search begins – for techniques and solutions that can come close to the feeling you experienced.

Among photographers, there’s a saying that an image needs time to “settle.” It’s not recommended to review and select shots on the same day. Better to wait – several days, a week, sometimes even a month. During the shoot, you’re overwhelmed with emotion, and you remember certain moments as powerful – even if the images don’t fully convey them.

With time, when emotions fade, you can look at the photographs more calmly and objectively. That’s when it becomes clearer what truly works and what doesn’t. In that sense, post-processing is just as important a part of the creative process.

– Can you share a particularly memorable journey?

– In recent years, I’ve been traveling more by motorcycle – it’s one of my favorite passions. One of the most memorable trips was across Europe. With friends, we visited around ten countries: Eastern Europe, the Alps, Hungary, Austria, Romania. Then we returned home via Georgia, the Caucasus, and Kazakhstan.

Turkey was also unforgettable. We rode through many cities, making a large loop across the country. Not only the landscapes stayed with me, but also the unexpected challenges.
On the way back, we simply set a route in a navigation app and followed it. There’s a joke among travelers: if you want adventure, use Maps.me. At the time, we didn’t quite understand why.

The route took us off the main highways and into the mountains. The roads became narrower, then unpaved, rocky. We were surrounded by small villages, winding roads, mountains disappearing into the clouds.

Locals would stop, wish us luck, and tell us we were very brave, which we didn’t fully understand at the time. And then we literally rode into the clouds. Thick fog, zero visibility. The road kept getting worse. We moved slowly, almost blindly, sensing that there might be cliffs nearby. It was August, but the mountain air was cool and fresh.

After several hours of descent, the fog lifted, and we finally saw where we had been riding: a steep mountain serpentine with massive drops, barely passable even for cars.

Further down, waterfalls, rivers, and valleys appeared. And at the exit, there was a large sign: “One of the most dangerous roads in the world.” Later I read that it’s considered even more dangerous than Bolivia’s famous Death Road. Completely by chance, we had found ourselves on an extreme route.

There were calmer but equally powerful moments. Cappadocia, for example. We arrived at night, chose a random point on the map, set up tents on a hill, and went to sleep. In the morning, we woke to noise – stepped outside and saw dozens of hot air balloons rising from the valley below. Sunrise, sky filled with balloons, and we were right in the middle of it all.

– Do you ever put the camera down and just experience the moment?

– More and more often. If before it felt more important to capture the moment, now I realize it can be even more important to simply feel it. The strongest emotions are the ones you live through yourself.

Sometimes I even forget my camera. At first, I’m frustrated – but then I remind myself: we do all this primarily for ourselves, for the experience.
So I try to focus on being present – whether I have a camera or not. And I think it’s important not to forget: our personal emotions matter more than the photos we end up with.

– Do you think it’s possible to “hear” silence in a photograph?

– That’s a philosophical question. I think it is. I don’t know how to achieve it technically, but a certain combination of atmosphere and subject can create that feeling. For example, a star-filled sky stretching into infinity gives a sense that time has stopped, and with it comes a deep silence.

At the same time, a photograph can also convey noise, movement, and tension. When created and presented well, it can express both sound and its absence.

– What are your upcoming travel plans?

– From experience, I’ve learned that rigid plans don’t always make sense. My life often unfolds spontaneously – trips and events happen unexpectedly. So lately, I’ve stopped planning too far ahead. Just a week ago, I had no idea I’d soon be traveling to Kyrgyzstan to explore mountain landscapes and cultural traditions.

I also have big plans to explore the Aral Sea region. I hope to travel there this year, discover new locations, and show them to a wider audience.
And there are places I want to return to again and again – Indonesia, for example. I’ve been there four times, and each visit reveals something new.

– If your pictures could speak, what would they say?

– Truthfulness is very important to me. I don’t claim that every image reflects absolute reality – I try to find a reality that resonates with me. I hope my photographs show harmony between humans and nature, and help people notice it.