Emigrussian
Egor Borie is a Russian photographer who fled Russia to Georgia due to the war in Ukraine and the recent mobilization. With his project Emigrussian, Egor makes an attempt to understand, through the characters he works with and his own prism, the possibilities of re-identification of what it means to be Russian in the new reality. While the theme of the project has to do with a growing notion of ‘didn’t do enough’ to change/stop the unfolding horror, Egor finds characters who make a decision to be active and oppose the war in Ukraine from abroad, as Dima a performance art, Anna, a journalist, or Legions, an interdisciplinary queer artist.
We speak about the responsibility that the nation carries as a whole and the opportunities those who fled seize in a new country to become involved as volunteers and speak their minds in an attempt to lead to a change. As Egor says in our conversation about the project, “Of course, it's about responsibility. Everyone feels it to a certain degree. Some were active, but they don't think they did enough.” We speak with Egor about the characters he carefully chooses for the project, at times presenting people who were persecuted for openly stating their position in their homeland. The project raises questions of responsibility, blame, self-identification, and the possibility of the future.
‘I was walking at night, in the rain, through a 20-kilometer traffic jam, carrying two heavy rucksacks of clothing and photographic equipment. That's how I ended up in Georgia.’
Hi Egor, you decided to move from Russia to Tbilisi, Georgia. Could you tell about your experience and the decision behind it?
Even though I was against the war, at the time, I wasn't going to leave Russia because I thought it was important to stay and, as a photographer, document the changes that were taking place in the country and society. Everything changed when mobilization was announced. The danger of being drafted into the war left me no choice. Within a day, I was on my way to Vladikavkaz and the border with Georgia. I was walking at night, in the rain, through a 20-kilometer traffic jam, carrying two heavy rucksacks of clothing and photographic equipment. That's how I ended up in Georgia, just like 120,000 of my compatriots who had fled Russia.
‘This phenomenon was unfolding in front of me and people kept arriving every day. I wanted to explore their reasons, attitudes, and visions for the future, as well as, explore myself.’
Emigrussian is, in a way, a personal story that has to do with your background and the observation of the everyday life and experiences of the others who decide to move/emigrate/flee to Tbilisi. How did this project start and develop with time?
I started shooting the Emigrussian project a couple of days after I found a place to live. I had a plan, a concept. This phenomenon was unfolding in front of me and people kept arriving every day. I wanted to explore their reasons, attitudes, and visions for the future, as well as, explore myself. I looked for heroes in emigrant chat rooms and did Instagram posts. Someone advised me about their friends and acquaintances. It was a chain reaction. The interviews took about two hours. We talked about the war, fear, difficult decisions, what people had left at home and how they were planning their future.
In the process, I was thinking in humanistic terms and wanted to show a cross-section of society, to show that talented people with progressive views were coming from Russia. Then, as a documentary photographer, I wanted to tell the personal stories of people, such as those who were persecuted in their homeland, who openly expressed their position. All of this is oriented toward the world community. These are classic documentaries, which tell you why there is no freedom of speech in Russia, why rallies and protests are forbidden, and why you might end up in jail for liking an Instagram post.
‘Of course, it's about responsibility. Everyone feels it to a certain degree. Some were active, but they don't think they did enough.’
You touch on the themes of responsibility and self-re-identification in the new place by the people who fled the war due to the fear of being persecuted based on their political, anti-war views or being part of the queer community. Some characters you present are vocal and try to make a change from a distance as Dima with performance art, Anna a journalist, Legions an interdisciplinary queer artist, and others. The main critique has to do with the Russian people not being vocal or doing enough to contribute to ceasing the war. What have you learned from this project and the stories of the characters you chose to include in the project from this perspective?
I wanted to talk about the pressure Russians feel when they are away from Russia. Of course, it's about responsibility. Everyone feels it to a certain degree. Some were active, but they don't think they did enough. Others feel they couldn't influence the situation. I don't think it's fair to judge them for that because the country they left is capable of terrible things.
Once they were safe, most of the heroes of my project became more active in speaking out, participating in anti-war actions, and helping volunteer organizations. Some of them speak the language of art. Dima made a performance in which he reproduced and tried to make sense of his experience of crossing the border and leaving home. Interdisciplinary musician Legions recorded a queer rap album in which they raise many topics that, if spoken about in Russia, could be subject to an article.
‘The pressures I mentioned earlier also affect the self-identity of people in exile. Many of them find it difficult to choose a definition, to pick the word that most accurately describes their identity.’
Let's speak about the process of scouting characters and photographing them at their homes or workplaces. What themes were the main ones that arose from working with your characters and developing the project?
The pressures I mentioned earlier also affect the self-identity of people in exile. Many of them find it difficult to choose a definition, to pick the word that most accurately describes their identity. 'Refugees' are refugees from Ukraine, and even those who were threatened by direct violence from other people or the state in Russia do not call themselves that, not to compare military threat and political repression. The word 'emigrant' contains a special historical-mostly Soviet context. It is a reference to the white emigration of the 1920s and those who left after the partial opening of the Iron Curtain. Many people say they are not emigrants because there is a big political context behind it — because it implies that in Russia, they must have been heavily involved in the political life of the country. And many feel that they 'didn't do enough.'
It is difficult to say whether this is a problem of language, the formation of a 'blank,' or whether there is a reluctance to be defined in some category. But one way or another, there is an empty space for the self-definition of a large number of people. One is left either to choose from what is there, to make up one's own options, or to leave the space empty, not (pre)defined, which too, to some extent, can be a statement of one's situation, fears, hopes, and circumstances.
What are you working on now, and what will be your next theme or story?
I understand now that this series is only part of a larger project about a more extensive phenomenon. Currently, I am shooting new parts of the Emigrussian project — group portraits of emigrant communities and things that connect people to their homes.
