Nina Dudoladova is an artist based in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Got photography education at FotoDepartament Foundation in 2014-2015, took part in group exhibitions such as "Common Imaginary" project curated by Nadya Sheremetova. 

Katya Yushkevich studied at St. Petersburg Faculty of Press-photographers, 2009 — 2011 and
“Photography as a research” program, Foundation of Informational and Cultural projects «FotoDepartament», 2011. Participated in residencies, at Tokomak, Helsinki in 2012 and FotoDepartament, St. Petersburg, 2014. Among exhibitions and awards: 2015 - V-A-C Foundation Pavilion “Expanding Space”, CAN! Festival in Krasnodar (2015), Fashion and Style in Photography MMOMA, Moscow (2015),
Inventing Everyday Life / Part 4, parallel program of the Manifesta 10 (2015), Fotodom, parallel program of the Manifesta 10 (2015), Young photography, Norilsk (2014), Institute.Production / Kazan (2014), We-ll-timed, Minsk (2014), We-ll-timed, Fotodepartament, Saint-Petersburg (2014), Young photography, Saint-Petersburg (2012).

Anastasia Bogomolova is a photographer, founder of the first Russian language blog about photobooks â€œThis is a photobook”. Represented by FotoDepartament Gallery. Born in 1985 in Kostanay, Kazakhstan. Lives between Chelyabinsk and Kasli, Ural, Russia. 
Studied journalism in Chelyabinsk, Russia; photography at FotoDepartament, as well as at various photography workshops. Took part in group exhibitions (“Experiences of Brownian motion”, The Lumiere Brothers Center for Photography, Moscow, Russia (2015), â€œConstruction. Photography in search of approach”, “Photoparade, Uglich, Russia (2015), â€œWe-ll-timed”, the main program of IX Moscow International Biennale “Fashion and Style in Photography”, Moscow Museum of Modern Art, Moscow, Russia (2015), and many others), as well as presented her personal ones, such as â€œDatcha/Garden” (main program of the 10th Photobiennale), Moscow Museum of Modern Art, Moscow, Russia (2014); â€œLookbook”, Cultural Transit Foundation, Yekaterinburg, Russia (2015). 

Nina Dudoladova: Living The Place

“Through this eminently social type of adherence, I identify myself with all the others in the indistinguishableness of the universal.”
Jean-Paul Sartre, preface of the book by Nathalie Sarraute “Portrait of a Man Unknown”

At first, the interiors of apartments from the site “Avito” were alien to me but I couldn’t help returning to them. In many homes there was something appealing that was haunting my mind, something that didn’t let me go. Looking at these apartments, I began to notice that my memory started emerging. I saw things from my past: a bookcase with endless rows of books, а bright carpet on the wall, a simple white kitchenette. At the same time, I was examining the things I seemed to have nothing in common with. The desire to cognize unfamiliar arose. Who lives in these apartments? What will happen to me if I become them?
But to find yourself there, you have to change the postures for hours, move through space of photographs, capture the illusive scents, imagine the view from an overexposed window. You have to freeze motionless in a void, live someone else’s life during this short moment, freeze again and again and again. You should forget yourself, join the universal, stop breathing or breathe twice as fast.

Katya Yushkevich: Four Letters - First - L

In 1990, one year before the collapse of Soviet Union which took away the last hope for socialistic dreams, Vlad Listiev launches a TV program “Field of Wonders” in a format, which he sarcastically called “capital show”.
At that moment I was three. I lived in an ordinary family that had to face all the troubles of 1990s: backdated wages, empty shops, insecurity about tomorrow, in a family that watched “Field of Wonders” every Friday evening. We were happy when we could guess the words faster than players and laughed at the jokes of the host.
And these evenings brought us together like nothing else.
That was when I promised everybody that I would get to “Field of Wonders” one day. It seemed to be the best way to become famous and make my family be proud of me.
I have started to work on this story two years ago.

Hiding behind the promise given in childhood I was preparing a critical work about capitalist society, consumerism and commercialism. But the further it went the more it looked like fighting with the windmills. The “right” and the “wrong” were changing places, players, audience, my family, me and Yakubovitch himself intertwined in a single mass of tired, scared puppets who don’t know what they want in a huge system.
And at that moment when I was in the same dressing room with fifty-years-old Cossack captain, BDSM model fixing a ladder in the stocking with the nail polish, children, dogs and folk band of songs and dances, which had problems with playing its CD at the wrong time, I suddenly felt the unity which, as it turned out, I was pursuing during this two-years-long trip.
Unity through the bygone collective trauma, antinomic culture, but mostly the thing that was difficult to accept in yourself and others – simple human fragility, the weak point and the main strength.

Anastasia Bogomolova: Lookbook

I’m looking at old cosmetic bag to discover my mother's lipstick, eye shadows and blushes, which she used to enjoy when she was a little older than I’m today. I’m pulling out of the closet a suitcase with shoes to find a pair of her unprocurable Yugoslav sandals bought back in the 1980s. I’m turning over a pile of boxes in the family barn to find all of my mother’s former clothes and my elder sister’s costumes. Mostly colorful dresses acquired in the soviet department stores and stitched in some atelier or at home.
 
When I was 7—8 years old I was doing the same thing. Every time I was left home alone, I was just climbing into the closet, to try on every outfit and then posed in front of the mirror, trying to find something adult in myself. These days I’m approaching the age when my mother gave birth to me, and I’m taking out all those dresses, useless now, to wear them without fear of being caught up.
 
I’m putting on an old lipstick, which crumbles like dust off my lips and burns my skin.
I’m pulling out from the sewing machine old bags with pieces of cloth which my grandmother kept for so many years and never had time to sew anything. I’m leafing through fashion magazines from 1970s and 1980s, which formed my very first idea of ​​beauty.

I’m staying in front of the mirror, longing to recall at once all images of women in my family, to understand how they saw their own sexuality. I’m repeating this ritual again and again, trying to admit my own transformation into an adult woman and at the same time rejecting it.
 
And after I’m cutting out the pieces of old cloth and I'm turning them into new outfits — my own dresses about me.


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Nina Dudoladova
Katya Yushkevich
Anastasia Bogomolova