FRONTLINES OF DIGNITY, SHREDDED SKIES AND OTHER LOVE STORIES

Dates

2023 - 2025
Author

Marylise Vigneau
Location Ukraine, Ukraine

Set in war-torn Ukraine, this project explores the intimate and human dimensions of the full-scale Russian invasion, tracing grief, loss, and the profound ways war alters identity, memory, and the texture of daily life.

Looking beyond the headlines and with a tender lens, it turns to the unfolding aftermath to preserve its memory. Through portraits of love, both enduring and broken, as well as fleeting moments of joy and resilience, it reflects the suffering and resilience of those caught in the conflict, offering an inward gaze into these dark times.

Amidst the noise of war, it captures a longing that endures, stronger than violence, for justice, truth, love, and peace. It also aims to serve as a body of evidence.

Vladislav and Valeria met just before the full-scale invasion, sharing only two weeks before he was deployed. A mine blast in August 2022 left him blind. In hospital, he proposed with flowers and meringues. Today he wears prosthetic tiger eyes, a defiant emblem of survival.

Anna met Nikita in 2024. Their connection was immediate. From the front, he sent her daily messages beginning with “Hello, sunshine.” In November, Anna received a call: “Nikita 200”, military code for killed in action. A mine had killed Nikita. Anna wears his bulletproof vest, holds his gloves, and carries the roses he once gave her. At his grave, she brings two headphones, listening to the music

Two teenagers stand in front of a map of Ukraine, made from fabric flowers. The map, untouched by Russian annexations and invasions, reflects the borders established at the time of its independence from the Soviet Union in 1991.

Vania defended Kyiv and later stepped on a mine near Bakhmut, losing his sight but surviving. Weeks earlier, he had met Vladislava online; their connection blossomed into love, engagement, and marriage. Today, they raise a baby boy together.

The hands of Vladislava and Vania meet over his prosthetic eyes, a gesture of love and resilience. This intimate image captures their bond, the tenderness between them, and the personal strength that has carried them through the life-changing impact of war.

Arseniia Terzi, dancer and model, posed on an Odesa beach for a Moldovan clothing brand. Behind her, the Black Sea shimmered with deceptive calm, shadowed by the danger of missiles fired from Russian warships.

Chocolate guns ornate with the ubiquitous "Slava Ukraïni" (Glory to Ukraine) in a confectionery shop in Odesa.

Tatarin stands with his partner, Angelika, at the Kyiv War Museum, before an installation that recalls the destroyed missiles, sometimes turned into coat hangers in the trenches. Descended from Crimean Tatars deported under Stalin, he grew up with stories of survival and resistance. On February 25, 2022, Tatarin enlisted. Now a drone operator, he cherishes the rare moments he spents with Angelika

Kyiv, April 4, 2025. On that day, the sun shone brightly and the city breathed in the gentleness of spring. Families filled the parks, and for a moment, the war felt distant. But by late afternoon, the illusion shattered: a Russian missile struck Kryvyi Rih, 400 km away, killing 16 people — including seven children.

Maksym Martynenko, 11, was killed alongside his parents, Nataliia and Mykola, during a Russian missile strike on Palm Sunday 2025. His grandmother, 71-year-old Nadiia Krasnoshchok, is the only relative alive.

Olena Fokova wears her husband Serhiy’s shirt. In march 2022, Russian soldiers abducted him near their home. For over three years, she learnt only fragments from released prisoners. Serhiy remains a hostage, enduring daily psychological and physical torture. Olena finds solace in her work as an art curator with children with severe mental disorders and disabilities.

In Chernihiv, a man is wrapped in a banner bearing the portrait of his son, who is being held prisoner in Russia. For the past two years, hehas attended nearly every prisoner exchange, hoping for his son'srelease. Sadly, that day brought yet another disappointment.

During a prisoner exchange on April 19, 2025, families gathered in Chernihiv, torn between fear and hope. When Marharyta learned her son Ruslan was on the list, returning after three years in captivity, joy overwhelmed her and she fainted.

In Odesa, where Soviet monuments have become increasingly contested and may soon be removed, eras collide as a mother and daughter joyfully dance before a memorial to the heroes of the Soviet Army.

Between two air raid sirens, a woman sits in a Kyiv bar, her face caught in the window, the city reflected around her, a moment of normalcy among the noise ofwar.

Annia, 18, studies art while living in a small student dormitory. She grew up in Zaporizhzhia, immersed in dance and theatre, and cannot recall a time before drawing was part of her life. When the full-scale invasion began, she fled the shelling and spent four months in Poland. Later, she moved to Kyiv to continue her studies. Her work explores themes of displacement and the body in wartime.

In an Odesa park, a young man, drunk and staggering, plays with flowers. "I'm numb," he confessed. His restless nights spent roaming and drinking speak to the hidden wounds the war is carving into Ukraine's youth, wounds that may last for decades.

Portrait of Vitalii Lykhobytsky with his daughter Kira. In May 2023, a Russian sniper’s bullet shattered his thermal camera and pierced his eye. His first thought was of his children—would he see them again, or would his injuries frighten them? After two years and several surgeries, his face began to resemble what it once was. Today, he works in construction, helping rebuild a country still at war

A young girl in Odesa was walking by the sea with her father when I asked her to stop and imagine the end of the war. The hope in her eyes seemed larger than her childhood.

FRONTLINES OF DIGNITY, SHREDDED SKIES AND OTHER LOVE STORIES by Marylise Vigneau

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