A convoy of reindeer, belonging to the Serotetto family, during their migration over the frozen river of Ob. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
A framed picture of a Nenets herder with the reindeer. Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. For the Nenets, the reindeer are considered part of the family and have a place of honor in local culture and folklore
Pudani Audi (born.1948). Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. Pudani was born in the tundra and roamed since birth. In this portrait, she wears a fur hat, the sole object left from her wandering days
An official sign warning the local villagers that “going out to the ice is prohibited,” meaning that from this point on, tundra begins. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
Autipana Audi (born.1941). Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. Autipana experienced many sad losses. She lost her husband, son, and daughter to diseases, and a few years ago, her entire reindeer herd perished to starvation during a cold wave. Almost unable to walk, she spends her days mostly limited to her bed
Nyadma Serotetto (3), part of the nomadic Nenets community, standing on his family’s wooden sleigh, during their migration over the frozen river of Ob. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
An abandoned tank. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
Angelina Serotetto (Born.1942). Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. Angelina was part of a family of shaman women, and her mother taught her to read the future using sacred objects from nature
Natasha Serotetto gathers the reindeer before migration. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
Zinaida Evay (born. 1946) with her cat Persik (meaning 'peach' in Russian). Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. Zinaida was married for many years, but after her husband passed away, she was left to live alone in their small apartment, with almost no one to visit
An abandoned sofa. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
Necla Audi (Born. 1928). Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. Although Necla was 89 when this portrait was taken, she declared that she insists on returning to live with the migrating community. At the far left of her bed, a picture of her two sons, taken when they were young. Now, both of them are herders in the tundra
The “Chum” – home of the Nenets. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
Abandoned houses. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
Liliya Yamkina (Born. 1944). Yar-Sale, Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. As a teenager, she was the only one in her clan who knew how to read. She said she still remembers how important she felt when she read everyone their letters and formal documents. However, the importance of her reading skills to the clan was also why her father prevented her from going to college to become a teacher, which caused significant conflict between them. Now, in her apartment, she writes love songs about the tundra, and her dream is to publish them in a magazine.
An improvised cross that marks the border between the village and the wilderness of the tundra. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia. For the tundra people, this cross signifies the boundary between two very separate worlds.
A lone deer, separated from his herd. Without the herd’s protection, the deer is likely to die. Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug, Russia
LIKE LAST YEAR’S SNOW
In the remote village of Yar-Sale in Northern Siberia lives a group of elderly women. They were once part of a nomadic community of reindeer herders. However, in their old age, they spend most of their days in seclusion, away from nature and their community. While men are usually more encouraged to remain within the migrating community and maintain their social roles, the women often face the struggles of old age alone.
It took a flight, a sixty-hour train ride from Moscow, and a seven-hour bone-breaking drive across a frozen river for me to meet them. I immersed myself in their closed community, and for days, over many cups of tea, they shared their stories, lullabies, and longings with me.
Longing for nature, gone parents and friends.
On this series, the memories of the past, represented by the images of the outside world, are combined with the portraits of current reality. By doing so, I tried to give their stories a visual representation. One that could last after they are already gone.
(*Like Last Year’s Snow is a Yiddish expression – referring to something which is not relevant anymore)
