This series of cyanotypes is dedicated to keyboard instruments that find their voice in various corners of our lives. Among the works are images of grand and upright pianos captured in historic interiors and cozy spaces. Each photograph tells its own story, whether it's a majestic grand piano in Pushkin's reading room, surrounded by antique ambiance, or an upright piano modestly standing in the corner of a cozy café.
Prussian blue adds notes of melancholy and sophistication, highlighting the connection between music, time, and space. In my childhood, I often spent time at my relatives' home, where there was a piano that always fascinated me. Through these works, I invite you to pause, feel the resonance of silence, and sense the presence of music even without sound.

These cyanotypes, based on my photographs of the Spitzer Palace, convey a unique blend of history and modernity, embodying the spirit of this remarkable yet decaying building. Despite evident signs of decline—cracked walls, peeling paint, and the loss of former grandeur—the palace retains an atmosphere of life that once filled its halls.
The works, with their characteristic deep blue hue, serve as an ideal medium to capture details that, despite deterioration, continue to exist in memory and perception. The aim of these pieces is to convey the connection between people and space, which, despite physical decay, continues to live within these walls.

This cyanotype series is dedicated to an unusual scene from Serbia: an old telephone booth with a chair chained next to it, as if someone made sure it wouldn’t be stolen, so people could sit comfortably and make calls—probably to other countries—engaging in long, long conversations.
The Berlin blue of cyanotype adds a nostalgic touch to this scene and enhances the details. With these images, I want to draw attention to the value of ordinary things in our lives.

My cyanotype series dedicated to the streets and architecture of Moscow is my vision of a city that has become a source of many cherished memories for me. It was here that I experienced my first independent life and formed my first friendships by choice. I gently preserve the memories that begin with "here."
Through this technique, I strive to highlight the unique features of Moscow’s streets and buildings that might otherwise go unnoticed in the everyday rush. The photographs that served as the basis for these cyanotypes allowed me to focus on details that had previously escaped my attention— from cracks in facades to the unusual intertwining of historic and modern architecture. This series is my visual dialogue with the city, an attempt to capture moments that bridge personal experiences with a space rich in history and life.

This work captures a historic building—the V.I. Firsanova Revenue House, which adorns Neglinnaya Street in the center of Moscow. Built with elegance and attention to detail, the building embodies the architectural heritage of the city.
Cyanotype adds a special atmosphere to the image, emphasizing the refinement of lines and creating a sense of timelessness. This image serves as a reminder of how architecture can become a keeper of a city's memory, inviting us to glimpse into its rich past. It is one of the many buildings in Moscow that you simply cannot pass by without saying, "Oh, how beautiful it is!"

My series of cyanotypes created in Serbia is the result of my introduction to this alternative printing method. I was inspired by the local landscapes and architecture and began using cyanotype as a way to document my walks, turning them into something more than just a journey—into a true photographic hunt. I started paying attention to details, viewing the city from different angles, and marveling at how much I had overlooked before cyanotype entered my life.
This printing method became a kind of meditation, where each image is a combination of the joy of walking and the capturing of unique moments that come to life in the deep blue shades of cyanotype.

Gamarjoba is more than just a greeting. It embodies warmth, hospitality, kindness, soul, and a unique attitude toward life.
With this work, I aim to capture the atmosphere of the old Tbilisi courtyards, where simple moments of daily life—like clothes drying on a line—become part of the street landscape. Cyanotype, with its distinctive blue hues, reveals not only the city's architecture but also its soul, where every movement and element naturally blends into the overall harmony of everyday life.

"Polako" is a word from Serbian and Croatian that translates to "slowly," conveying a call for calmness, patience, and taking one's time. It reflects a philosophy of life common among many Balkan cultures—less stress, more enjoyment of the process.
For me, it has become yet another reminder of how important it is to pause amidst the rush of life and appreciate the world around us.