‘Aureola’
I remember only one thing from my first visit on this Cemetery. Cold.
Piecing chill. The closer I was to the center, the colder it was getting. This is the heart of this place. Gloriette bought with blood. Even though I wasn’t welcome there, abandoned souls gathered to present me the shining arch, reflecton of lost dreams.
‘Incense’
Lieutenant Nikolai Nikiforovich
20.04.1945
…
“Thousands of feet march to the beat,
It’s an army on the march.
Long way from home,
Paying the price in young men’s lives.”
I took this photo on the same date, but 68 years later. Unlucky guy, eh? Not even three weeks after Nikolai’s death, the Second World Bloodshed came to an end in Europe. It’s just as if a battle hardened warship sank right at the entrance to the harbor.
how well sits the grave,
with hands like redemption that sing off key
in frames of fading light.
i have been enraptured and falsely accused.
phantoms rage and confound.
i am reminded of halls without doors
where periodically,
while wanting to die,
i am greeted by brothers once unknown.
who through the maelstrom-
offer absolution in words like swords aflame.
~esau
______________________________________
I received this poem a while ago, and desired to put it here in right time.
As I believe any poetry should speak for itself, I won’t put anything more in this undernote.
M.
‘Marble’
This is a clear invitation. Every perspective line, every road leads inside. Row of red trees standing at attention will show us the path. For years they were fed with blood and demons.
With this photo I gathered all three gates protecting Red Army Officer’s Cemetery. It’s time to visit people, who are tragically bound to this place by death curse.
‘Salvo in honor of…’
I so much wanted the silent cannon to shoot once more. For the fallen ones. For people, whose blood soaked this martyred soil. My comrades in the sky helped me out a little, giving me fire and smoke I needed.
The second gate reveals this unholy place from north. Every socle is protected by steel veterans, standing proud despite of age. Those tanks saw the 1945’s liberation of Wrocław with their own, wrinkled eyes. With their fire red flags on polish ground were brought. I pity them so much. They won’t shake the ground again with their overhelming thunder. Losing power is so much more terrifying than being forgotten. It’s the worst curse.
eikona powiedział(a): What was it. Is it? Regards, Garth.
The last photograph was taken at the entrance to an underground passage next to devastated, yet still alive railway station. This is the same place that was depicted not too long ago in ‘Lucid’. I got a big fancy for ‘almost abandoned’ railway stations, and this one was somewhat special. Although the smell and primitive graffiti didn’t differ this place from any of its kind. There are plenty of forgotten platforms in Poland.
‘Filth’
Darkness under me, over me, behind me. Smell of crap and urine around. Filth of human body and mind.
When the light is gone, you are no longer bound by temporal rules. As the spotlight is broken, you’re no longer an actor in this constant theatre. Nobody expects you to be better, to try harder than before. You’re alone with yourself. No expectations, no true example to look up to. It was so easy to give up years ago, in soviet age of mediocrity. And it still is. When wisdom sleeps, simple instincts take over. That’s exactly what happened here. Will you go down? It’s so easy. Go!
hawkeye39 powiedział(a): What’s happening with you?
Everything’s fine. Just an echo of thoughts lying behind the courtain. I learned the hard way not to post important photographs in certain states of mind. But soon I made the note under ‘Necropolis’ more adequate, I guess. Maybe I’m opening doors to a new journey, but first I need to rethink some important things in my life.
Stay tuned and many thanks!
M.
Matt,
I found your blog amazing. We share the taste of shooting old stuff growing older. About ten years ago I had the chance to go to Prague, traveling by car from Vienna. Looking at your blog, I remember the feeling of that trip. Square buildings and tons of steel. I am from the other side of the world (argentina), and having had our own dictators and political confusions by the same time, we are not left with this sort of steel cemeteries. Love to see yours, and hope one day to come back to those places.
I feel that you are taking photos of a big piece of human history. Fortunately, you can combine digital cameras with tons of steel that soviets liked to forge. Please keep doing so!
Santiago
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Contemplating deconstruction of the world around me is some kind of claim I’ve made long ago. It’s not only about capturing history rushing through places I depict. It’s like performing Last Rites while breathing my own life into sceneries I’m perpetuating. Some of the ‘cemeteries’ I visited as SovietGoner no longer exist. They died. So will vanish every place that is cursed by the past. So will I, so will you.
I’m glad you take any pleasure in walking with me through this rusty fallow, filled with howling of creatures who- in their greed and hate- created this world.
Matt
‘Necropolis’
This place was calling me for a very long time. Guess I belong here. When I complete all three gates, we will enter this cemetery where Officers of Red Army lie. I could see them there.
Painful death occurs, when you lived life that didn’t belong to you in first place, even if for a moment. The demons from the gravestones whisper in the ear, hiding their temptations in melody of icy wind. I’m going with them, I’m sorry.
kickinglife asked: I love your work! I have a fascination with the post soviet world and your work brings out so much of it. I am happy I found you and am now following! -Aly
Well, thank you Aly!
Such words feed my egotistical soul perfectly.
I’m really glad we share such specific fascination. Or maybe those are just twisted tastes, nothing more?
Anonymous asked: What camera do you use and how do you edit your photos? Congratulations for the one year anniversary!
Thanks!
My main workhorse is Canon EOS 550D (T2i), accompanied by Samyang 14mm lens.
I don’t have any given way of editing my work. When I believe I got the right shot, I try to emphasize what’s important in the scene in every possible manner. All to let the viewer feel the mood of the world I see with my own eyes. When I feel it is needed I don’t hesitate to do HDR imaging, but some of my work goes completely unedited.
One year. 365 days. 70 photographs. 900 followers. 16.000 views commited by people from over 1.500 cities all around the world. That’s what would SovietGoner be like in world of numbers and statistics. But we don’t live in universe that can be described in such an easy way. Very fortunately.
When I published my first photograph, exactly the one above, I had no idea what I’m doing. I didn’t know what what I want to give. And why I keep on pressing the shutter. Frankly speaking my dear, I still don’t know it clearly. But I keep on trying to pour all my trapped affections inside the film. I push my limits further than I could ever imagine. And I learn. Oh, I got to know so much during this year! I learned the taste of adventure. I learned how to turn destruction into creation. I learned how to light up the darkness. I learned to feel.
The time goes on and the project will develop. It constantly changes the same way I do. One day the Goner will disappear in chase for his futile dreams. This is the path I have to walk alone. But that’s not that day. Stay by my side, and let’s enter this gloomy asylum of steel and concrete I wish to create.
Thank you.
Matt
