Photographs that speak volumes

By Ana Mikatadze

Stories told without a single word provoke a special kind of emotion, as if personal interpretations shaped by our own experiences are suddenly freed from all boundaries.

It’s hard to capture an emotion everyone can feel on a simple strip of brown film. It’s even harder to tell an entire story in just a few snaps of your fingers. Only a few people take on such challenges. Dina Oganova is one of them.

Born and raised in Tbilisi, Dina manages, whether through a magic camera or pure talent, to tell stories about real people with real problems solely through images, sometimes accompanied by just a few words. She chooses to focus on issues many prefer to ignore.

She speaks about fear, abuse, and harmful social norms, problems that some notice quietly and others fight alone, in silence. You won’t find a single fake smile in her work. That’s likely why her projects feel so honest and deeply affecting. She’s much the same herself: lively, sensitive, and emotional. Long story short, I went to meet her, and we talked a lot.

The Beginning

Dina’s interest in photography began with one of those magical moments that only childhood can offer. She was about five years old when she spent a month-long vacation in Borjomi.

Her family rented a room in a photographer’s house, where mischievous Dina had only one strict rule: she was not allowed to enter the photographer’s darkroom. “Every evening when he went inside, a red light would shine from the room, and it drove me crazy,” Dina recalls.

She waited outside the door for the entire month. Finally, on the day before they left Borjomi, the photographer invited her inside. “That’s where I first saw an image appear on completely white paper in a red-lit room. Even today, it remains the most unforgettable and special memory of my life,” she tells me excitedly. The photographer even gifted her a camera. But then the war came, and there was no time for such distractions.

Dina grew up. At the time, it was common for parents to decide what their children would study, and choices were limited. Given two ultimatums, she chose to study economics. She started working in her first year of university.

When she received her bachelor’s degree, she wrapped the diploma, gave it to her mother, and said, “This is for you. Now I’m going to do what I really want.” Since then, the camera has never left her hands. She now works as a freelancer for foreign clients, but her most powerful projects are the personal ones she creates on her own initiative.

“First of all, I do this for myself,” Dina says. “I address the problems that trouble me most. Photography is the only language I speak. For many people, it’s a relief, and often they learn about these issues through my work.”

sHEROes

Dina releases her personal projects as handmade books in limited editions. One of her most notable works was also published by Books in Batumi. The project addresses the Russian occupation of Georgia, the creeping border, and the people whose lives were destroyed along with their homes and families.

The project, titled sHEROes, is dedicated to women who were forcibly turned into heroes by war, tyranny, and senseless egoism. The Georgian-English text was written by Salome Benidze, Dina’s friend and co-author. The book won the Litera Award, was nominated for the Saba Award, and was presented at the Frankfurt Book Fair, where it drew significant attention. A German publisher was so impressed that they decided to translate the book into German.

The presentation was scheduled to take place in Leipzig in March 2020.

In addition to this, Dina has released two handmade book projects: Frozen Waves (222 copies) and My Place (87 copies). Her ongoing project, #MeToo, is also planned for release as a book.

Frozen Waves

The title of the project already says a lot. These are stories of lives frozen unexpectedly and completely due to cultural and social norms, a phrase that feels shameful even to use.

The project tells the story of girls, not grown women, who were kidnapped and forcibly married. Their suffering is presented as a silent scream, one that’s even harder to hear because it makes no sound. Dina speaks about these girls without words, using only emotion captured on film.

She admits that even she didn’t believe such things still happened in the 21st century until 2014, when she met a kidnapped girl. That encounter prompted the project.

Dina was in a small village near Tbilisi when she noticed a 15- or 16-year-old girl wearing a beautiful blue dress, completely out of place. After taking some photos and speaking briefly, the girl invited Dina to her wedding.

“I was shocked and tried to convince her not to do it,” Dina recalls. “But she laughed and told me she thought it would be easy too. She believed her father would come and take her home, but instead he asked her to stay. He said, ‘What will the neighbors think?’ It’s ridiculous that we still have to talk about things like this.”

That moment marked the beginning of the project. Dina soon discovered that many more girls were facing the same fate, far more than anyone imagined. Many people didn’t even know the problem existed. That’s what makes her work so vital: it reaches people in the hope that someone, somewhere, will finally act.

My Place

My Place focuses on the generation born after 1991, whose stories began after the fall of the Soviet Union. The bright colors once suppressed by oppressive rule finally surfaced in our clothes, beliefs, and, most importantly, in our eyes.

This is Dina’s first color project. “When I printed the first photo, I realized black and white wouldn’t work here,” she says. “These people are too colorful.” I smile, because that contrast perfectly reflects the difference between our generation and the Soviet one.

Dina believes our generation is more open-minded and less burdened by expectations. Yet she notes one constant that connects all generations: relationships. “Tbilisi is about relationships,” she says. “It always has been, and it always will be.”

The project is as vibrant as the people in it. Dina plans to return to her subjects in ten years to document how time and change reshape their lives. That’s what makes her work so compelling: it doesn’t just document a moment, it continues to live alongside its subjects.

#MeToo

This ongoing project once again centers on women, but this time it speaks to almost all of us. Many of us carry a buried memory of a stranger on a bus, in a store, or in a crowded space who crossed a boundary. For some, the experience was far worse; for others, it might have faded if not for projects like this.

The title alone, #MeToo, is enough to trigger recognition. Some need no reminder at all. Like Frozen Waves, this project remains painfully relevant and disturbingly ordinary.

Dina is currently working on the project and plans to release it as a book. It’s worth following closely.

What Else

Dina’s personal work doesn’t stop here. Her portfolio includes stories about a schoolteacher in Rustavi, a family living alongside the memory of a deceased loved one, and her favorite home in Batumi filled with her favorite people.

What repeats throughout all her work is an unfiltered truth that sends chills down your spine.

At the end of our conversation, as I glanced at my notes, I skipped the question I had written about what she loves most about Tbilisi and asked instead:

What hurts you most about Tbilisi?

“Many things,” she says. “I live on Mtatsminda, and selfishly speaking, old Tbilisi hurts me deeply. I hate seeing historic houses destroyed and replaced by glass structures. And the parks. I never wanted to leave Tbilisi, but I want to breathe here. I love going to Lisi Lake. Why can’t we have more parks in the city?”

Today, Dina actively attends protests in front of the Georgian Parliament. She moves quietly among the crowd, documenting those who feel the most hurt. She saves these moments and shares them so we don’t forget.

“The history people will talk about in ten or twenty years is being written right now,” she tells me.

Hopefully, this story will soon take a better turn, and we’ll see another of Dina’s wordless stories very soon.