Each June, the world observes Pride Month, a time that reminds us of crucial values like freedom, visibility, and equality. At the request of vogue.ua, Ukrainian photographers are sharing their images, exploring themes of gender, queer individuals, sensuality, visibility, and vulnerability – in a country currently engaged in a brutal fight for its very existence.
Sasha Kurmaz
“Queer individuals are part of my social circle – they are my close friends and colleagues, so their presence in my work feels natural and organic. Moreover, as a person and as an artist, I feel a personal responsibility to make the community more visible, to legitimize it in the public sphere, and to prevent it from being pushed to the margins. Queer Ukrainians live among us, fight on the front lines, and create contemporary culture. They are an integral part of our society and our shared struggle for freedom.”
Anton Shebetko
This is a piece from the “Self-Portrait / Ukraine” photo performance series, created in 2020. Unfortunately, it remains relevant today. The central element of the series is a large flag that merges two identities: that of a queer person and a Ukrainian. It’s composed of six separate panels, reproducing the colors of the classic rainbow flag. Simultaneously, the stripes corresponding to the colors of the Ukrainian flag are slightly elongated. These two identities are in a state of conflict; they, like the flag itself, are not whole or complete, as finding balance and harmony between them is challenging.
The body here serves as the foundation and support, while the flag and the very duality of these identities are, to some extent, a torment and a burden. This work addresses a personal conflict that is part of a broader question about the rights and obligations that individuals and the state have or should have towards each other.
Can a state declare its existence through its community if it is not interested in ensuring equal rights for all its members? Where is the line drawn between the individual and the collective? Can a state exist without people, and who is a person who does not feel a sense of belonging to a community? Ultimately, this work is about unanswered questions.
Julie Poly
This photograph is a continuation of my “UkrZaliznytsia” series. I shot it in early 2025, already during the full-scale war, with support from RIBBON International. The work was shown at the exhibition “The Stammering Circle” (curated by Marta Kuzma) at the Jam Factory Art Center in Lviv.
For me, a train represents a space of blurred boundaries, where the private and the public intertwine, and the usual distance between people dissolves. This closeness was once almost erotic. In 2025, I returned to the series nearly three years into the full-scale war, and the railway had transformed entirely. It is now the country’s artery, carrying evacuees, the wounded, soldiers, and those displaced by the conflict. In this daily movement, queer individuals simply exist, including in the army. Meanwhile, same-sex couples in Ukraine still cannot marry or enter into civil partnerships. If a person dies on the front lines, their partner has no legal right to even claim the body or arrange the burial. This is precisely why it needs to be discussed.
A kiss on the platform. A classic farewell scene from postcards, typically depicted with a heterosexual couple. Here, two women stand in their place. For me, this frame is about devotion and tenderness.
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Vik Bakin
In the photo project To Be Who We Want To Be, which primarily features portraits of people, I occasionally capture simple still lifes. Here is one such example. I chose this photograph because I am interested in visibility without imposed interpretations – where presence is not reduced to predefined readings or categories. It is important for me to portray individuals as distinct people, rather than as carriers of clichés or expected archetypes.
TBWWWTB is an ongoing photographic project focused on queer individuals in Ukraine. It emerged from a desire to document a social world that is significant to me, while consciously avoiding visual clichés. I photograph people as individual entities, not as symbols of categories; their queer identity may be present but does not define how they are presented or perceived.
The photograph was taken in the entryway of a residential building. The carved wooden duck is a personal item belonging to one of the subjects of my project. It rested on a clean windowsill as the sole object in this space, appearing as if randomly placed in an environment to which it doesn’t belong.
When I look at this image, I feel a sense of calm mixed with subtle tension. I am intrigued by how an ordinary object can retain a person’s presence and remain visible without explicit explanation. This continues my exploration of how presence can be apparent yet resist being confined to expected modes of interpretation.
Alim Yakubov
“My photography centers on people and their narratives. Gender, identity, and queer experiences hold a significant place in my work. Through the personal stories of individuals and communities often underrepresented in the public sphere, I explore themes of visibility, recognition, human dignity, and the right to self-expression, particularly within the context of war, military service, and reintegration into civilian life.
The “LGBTQ+ Defending Ukraine” project shares the stories of queer service members who are protecting Ukraine. I selected these particular photographs because they are deeply personal to me. During the shooting process, the individuals in the frame cease to be mere subjects of the project; all distance between us dissolves. As I listen to their accounts, I experience these stories alongside them, and it is this genuine, living connection that I aimed to convey. I remain in contact with some of the participants even now.”
Hnat
“I primarily photograph queer individuals. They are the heart of my creative output. However, above all, I never photograph gender or sexual orientation – I photograph people. For me, photographing queer individuals means not making them seem ‘other,’ but rather normalizing their existence and presenting their lives as ordinary, intimate, and human. I have always considered myself an observer. Photography allows me to be a witness and to preserve the unique stories of the people who come before me.
I had always wanted to photograph drag. When a few of my friends agreed to be part of this photo project, I realized that I was interested not so much in the performance itself, but in the people behind it and the preparation process. Drag cannot be reduced to a single image; it exists at the intersection of identity, performativity, vulnerability, and self-expression. Through the lens, I sought to capture this multifaceted nature as I documented the journey from preparation to the final look. Every time I look at the shots from this session, I first and foremost see the courage of individuals who are not afraid to be exactly who they want to be.”