Inversion

Confronting a seemingly cosy world with war. Or: Showing the inhabitants of European cities why so many refugees are there. And what they fled from. This is what Russian-born photographer Danila Tkachenko, now living in exile in Italy, sets out to do.

In cooperation with nine photojournalists he has created large-scale memory boards from their pictures of destroyed buildings in Ukraine – and put them up in front of tourist attractions like the Cathedral in Milan, the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, the Rialto Bridge in Venice, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, the Colosseum in Rome.

And in front of each board: a woman, a child, a few men too, who escaped from the war in Ukraine into Western Europe: a 92-year-old former teacher, a 32-year-old lawyer, a 25-year-old model, a seven-year-old girl, a 30-year-old estate agent, a 60-year-old dentist.

There they stand, in front of bomb craters, collapsed apartment blocks, burnt parks, the ruins of churches and schools. In front of pictures of a disrupted, a shot-through homeland.

Is this what peace looks like? No, of course not. So one might ask why we chose Tkachenko’s work for the Global Peace Photo Award. We did because his pictures are a cry for peace. A cry for help. And because unfortunately even in the entries to our competition the longing for peace is more prevalent than the attainment of peace.

Tkachenko, born in Moscow in 1989, wants to make sure this longing is not forgotten. A recipient of prestigious international awards, he worked closely on Russian issues while he still could. The death of villages in the wake of forced collectivization, people fleeing to hermitage, military facilities with banned access. Until 2014 his works were still shown in Russia. We can hope for Russia that clever minds like his will want to return one day and be able to. Russian society needs people like him.
(Laudatio by Peter-Matthias Gaede)