2 meters project
A series of shots dedicated to social distancing during the coronavirus pandemic. Portraits of people at a distance of 2 meters — the distance recommended by the WHO.
The heroes of the project share how the coronavirus has affected their family and work, what they fear the most, and what they plan to do after the epidemic ends.
Mitya
I photographed people and fashion, gave lectures on architecture and history, and led tours. Of course, the lectures and tours were canceled. Now, I come up with shoots for myself. I've always been a freelancer and spent a lot of time alone with my activities. Now, I'm even more focused on self-development: reading, watching video courses, preparing new projects. Finally, there's plenty of time to play the guitar. There's no more rush, an opportunity to think everything over and reflect on one's behavior, to determine the direction of activity. It's like Jim Jarmusch's «Permanent Vacation» with a hint of Lars von Trier's «Melancholia.»
I'm worried about my mom and grandma—they are in the risk zone. I'm less worried about my own health; the uncertainty isn't too scary either—I fear not taking advantage of the time that can now be used for the better, afraid of missing out on new opportunities that, unfortunately, always arise in such difficult times.
In the near future, I will reassemble my portfolio, both photographic and tour-guiding. I will be more active in finding like-minded people and interacting with colleagues (remotely, of course). I am open to all kinds of proposals and ideas—please, reach out! Take care of yourself and let's come up with something together.
When the borders open, I've long wanted to take a car and drive through all of Spain—I am a philologist specializing in Spanish by education. I also really want to go to Paris—I've needed to go there for a long time, both for work and a call of the heart.
Katya
Before the pandemic, I worked on projects as a director and made videos. Besides filming, I often worked from home and occasionally went to work meetings. I took my children to kindergarten, we walked with friends, went to the theater, movies, cafes. Recently, I collected things from the kindergarten and submitted a form to keep their places. The children haven't been to kindergarten for over a month: first because of a long illness, and now because of the pandemic.
Now, most of my projects have been canceled, postponed, or put on hold, including the indefinite suspension of the opportunity to work abroad under a model contract. And today, I was supposed to have a date in Bordeaux) But everything went wrong, and I feel like it's for a reason. I believe that nothing happens by accident. Everything has changed for everyone, as if something has shifted on a planetary scale. It's a unique time — both scary and interesting at the same time, like a real movie.
The hardest part is to work and relax when you're with the children non-stop. Days stretch out like a long snake without numbers and hands, all boundaries blur, and there's no chance to switch. We stopped going out unless necessary, I stopped calling babysitters. It's hard.
The uncertainty and lack of deadlines are frightening. It's unclear when there will be an end, and whether it will be a happy one. Still, I hope we're not in a Zvyagintsev movie)
I love France and want to go to Spain, so when it's possible, I'll fly to Paris — to show my son the tower, to Étretat — to stand by the English Channel with a Norman cider, to Barcelona just because I've wanted to for a long time. And to Bordeaux, if it happens — to drink Bordeaux)
Olya
I work at the Manege. Our exhibition hall has been closed to visitors for over a week now, and there's absolutely no information on when we'll be allowed to reopen. I think nobody knows at this moment. For now, I'm on duty in the office every other day. Usually, I spent more time outside the home: work, meeting with friends, going to exhibitions together, and other delights. Nowadays, I'm discovering with pleasure that I enjoy being at home surrounded by my plants, lighting candles, incense, and colored lights. I watch broadcasts from the Vienna Opera, read a book about India, and re-watch «The X-Files.» I don't know how long I can keep this up, but so far, there are no problems. What I'm afraid of is the uncertainty. I wish someone would explain everything to me clearly and reassure me. I don't want any changes in the future. I worry about the people close to me. And I dream that, when all this is over, I'll travel to Budapest, visit India, and return to Istanbul again. And I'm glad that for this project, I was able to put on glitter makeup, as there are few occasions for it now.
Masha and Misha
I'm an actress and photographer. My acting work has stalled, but I now have twice as many photoshoots as before the events, because I drastically reduced my prices. Daily life has changed little so far. It's very unusual that Misha is at home during the daytime, not at work; we spend much more time together, and it's fantastic. Household duties have been redistributed easily and naturally — now Misha takes more care of the housework, and I handle my business and earn money. I'm worried about my loved ones; they are in the risk group. I'm thinking about how to emerge from this crisis with minimal losses, ideally coming out ahead. There will be a significant setback now, many achievements will be devalued, and I will again work a lot and for less, but that doesn't scare me. I feel a sense of excitement and healthy anger. I regret that my workshop, which was supposed to take place in Italy in April, was canceled; I hope we can make it happen in the fall. My plans include the USA, Iceland, Vienna, Cyprus.