What the Camera Knows That We Don’t: Dmitry Rambovskiy and the Layers of Reality

“Photographs are a way of imprisoning reality...One can't possess reality, one can possess images--one can't possess the present but one can possess the past.” ― Susan Sontag

Originally from Russia, Dmitry Rambovskiy is a photographer currently focusing on Tokyo, Japan. His recent publication, The Inner World, was released by ephemere. and later exhibited in Tokyo. I sat down with Dmitry to discuss his creative process and approach to photography.

---

Photography and its development have a long, elaborate history. In the past, photography was essentially an act of capturing memory, a way to preserve moments and safeguard a family's visual heritage. Today, however, the role of photography has evolved; photographs have become an instrument for constructing a personal identity and immediate communication. Thus, photography is no longer just about capturing reality but shaping, reshaping, and communicating the self in real-time. (Van Dijck, 2008) And what we have to say about ourselves is constantly curated in museums, exhibits, and even billboards.

Then, one might wonder how we arrive at the choice of a particular image, what these selected images reflect, and what they say about our identities. In an article, THIN-SLICING REALITY, Donald Kuspit, a prominent art critic, describes a curious occurrence, explaining that taking a photograph is not so much about a conscious decision but rather about the unconscious. He refers to this act as "thin-slicing" when our subconscious finds patterns based on situations/behaviors in limited slices of experience. These narrow space experiences we call photographs. (Kuspit, 2010)

So, even if the photographer is unaware of the psychological or emotional forces influencing his shots, his unconscious leaves a mark on the final image. It is only logical that if the final product is a result of our subconscious, then the final image shares information about the artist who took the shot. With this in mind, I would like to introduce Dmitry Rambovskiy's photography and recent work, The Inner World.

In The Inner World, Dmitry captures Moscow in black and white, using contrasting images to reflect the tension of the city's changing reality. The project explores the themes of time and signs, focusing on the city's external changes and the artist's personal evolution. I find that Dmitry's images evoke a melancholic sense of transition. Moreover, these shifts subtly hint at a more profound transformation of the artist himself. 

To continue my earlier thoughts about Kuspit's principles, I will mention that the subconscious plays a central role in Dmitry's work, forming a nuanced relationship between the conscious and unconscious. His images, much like Kuspit's notion of "thin-slicing," are not only about conscious decisions but reflect deeper, often contradictory forces at play. The use of the matryoshka doll as a metaphor for his inner world is intriguing, suggesting that his layers are a continuous discovery process. Although he may seek to distance his work from nostalgia or traditional elements, there's an undeniable connection to both in how his images unfold, each layer displaying something complex about time, memory, and identity. In this journey of self-exploration, Dmitry's work seems to reflect his change, as each photograph symbolizes another step in his personal evolution, constantly exposing something new yet inevitably tied to the past.

The interview:

---

Guzal Koshbahteeva: Your photos resonate with intriguing elements, especially for viewers familiar with Russian culture. As a viewer, I notice a certain intensity in your work. How would you describe your photography and the meaning you hope others will derive from it?

Dmitry Rambovskiy: For me, photography is primarily a transfer of information and feelings from one person to another, using various visual compositions. I mainly do street photography. I like to notice contrasting subjects and build a photographic scene around them, opposing one to another or vice versa, making them complement each other. I believe that metaphor and irony are also important in photography. The urban environment adds an element of chance and fleetingness of the moment. This makes the work more difficult, but the result seems more satisfying.

Guzal: Could you share a bit about your childhood and your experiences in a city where you grew up?

Dmitry: These days, I don't think much about my childhood. I remember that I wanted to spend more time with my parents, who were occupied with their work. They put a lot of effort so that I did well at school, for which I am incredibly grateful now. I think I also had good teachers in my life. 

I miss my grandparents, but they are timeless for me, they are always nearby. I see their characters in my daughter.  I don't smoke, but I love the smell of tobacco. In coffee shops, I always take a seat in smoking areas, I like that tobacco scent then appears on my clothes. It reminds me of my grandfather as if I am wearing his jacket now.

Guzal: I appreciate your sincerity. Your photos, whether intentionally or unintentionally, seem to evoke a sense of nostalgia for values, people, or places from the past. Would you agree with this interpretation? If so, I would appreciate it if you could discuss what nostalgia means to you.

Dmitry: In my opinion, nostalgia is a false feeling. We can be sentimental about the past, although most likely, we idealize it. For example, I have nostalgia for the 70-80s. I adore the architecture, music, fashion, cars, and cameras of those years. But I have never been to that time and can only imagine it from films and photographs.

However, I use this feeling for inspiration, sometimes even just holding vintage cameras in my hands.  I have a special device that connects the past and the present for me - this is a Zenit camera, which my father gave me not so long ago. More than 30 years ago, he filmed our family with this camera and sometimes allowed me to play with it. I was about 5 years old then. When I hold it in my hands now, I experience the same feelings and emotions at that time and now.

When arming and releasing the camera shutter, I feel like I am again sitting on a sofa in my parents’ old apartment and I sense my dad’s breath who is looking over my shoulder, worried that I would break something again. At this moment, both what was then and the present are happening simultaneously for me. In some part, The Inner World photo book is about this phenomenon.

© Dmitry Rambovskiy

Guzal:It is rather interesting that you consider nostalgia as a false feeling. I am curious to know what you think of memories. And what role do they play in your photography?

Dmitry: I think this is a difficult question. Memories are not only a recollection of some events in the past, but a major part of our sense of self. I think that memories and experiences, combined with inherited character traits, determine our lives and the decisions we make. I believe they also influence my photography. However, I never think about them when I take photographs.

Guzal: On the technical side of your work, even though you shoot in black and white, the contrast stands out with such sharpness, almost highlighting a blend of hope and dark emotions. Could you elaborate on whether these colors carry meanings that go beyond our conscious understanding of them?

Dmitry: Color is important to perception, either consciously or unconsciously. By making contrast photographs I am trying to highlight main subjects of the scene so that other objects of sometimes background would be less detailed. Perhaps the effect of strong contrast is also achieved through the design of the photo book, in which I also used the image of a matryoshka doll and soaring birds. Some photographs in the book are printed as a scan of film negative.

Guzal: What themes do you aim to explore through your photography, and how do you think they reflect the current state of Russian society?

Dmitry: I would like to create photographs that are capable of conveying strong emotions, photographs that are needless of any comments. At photo exhibitions I use music and installations to enhance this effect. For me, photography should have both a high technical component and an idea and meaning.

I think that the photographs of The Inner World are not about any city, country or culture, they are about time and signs. They are like a warning about impending changes, or perhaps that one’s own illusions are about to be dispelled.

Guzal: Let's talk a little about identity. Many artists, I believe, share this sense of universal identity rather than belonging to a particular land or country. Nevertheless, to their surprise, childhood experiences are where many artists draw their inspiration from. Contrasting images, irony and other elements you described, stand for a meaning and a choice, therefore a personality or identity. What do you think these artistic choices tell about your personality? And do you think that this interplay of choices comes from your subconscious mind? 

Dmitry: I have been doing photography for about 4 years, constantly learning, experimenting, and refining my skills. I have a passion for it and moving on this road, I think my artist identity will be clarified during the course of this journey. I learn inspiration from other photographers, exhibitions as well as day to day life experience.

I agree that many aspects define a personality and photography. But when I take photographs I do not think about my childhood, the country I was born in or what makes me go out and always have a camera in my pocket. I do not do self analysis, but enjoy the process of artistic freedom and relying on intuition.

Guzal: What is a well composed photograph for you?

Dmitry: If an eye quickly finds the key subjects and the overall scene looks balanced, I would call it a well composed photograph. However, I consider composition to be only a technique, while the content is also important.

Guzal: There is a stereotype that Russian art embodies a mix of despair and hope. Personally, I believe that this perspective may not be fully accurate unless one is familiar with the underlying context and culture. Do you share this view? If so, what insights would you want the audience to gain about Russia, its art, and the perceptions of its people?

Dmitry: Russia is a multinational state, where art, culture, and narratives will differ depending on the region and origin of a person. It is difficult for me to single out any features that are specific to Russian art; in many ways, it was formed under the influence of French, German, English, and other trends. Many elements of culture and art, including a mix of despair and hope, can be found in other countries as well.

Guzal:  I notice that there are some underlying contradictions in your responses. You mentioned that the land and country do not play a role in the process of photography, however, for viewers who might not be familiar with your work, based on the signs you depict, can observe traditional elements that belong only to Russia, one of them being “matryoshka”. Could you explain the importance of these cultural signs?

Dmitry: When looking at photographs that were taken in Russia, Europe, America or Asia, you will always see what you call the “traditional elements” of the culture and history of the people living in that area. Saying that The Inner World is not about one particular country does not mean that the viewer will not see the “traditional elements” inherent in Russia or Moscow in particular, but I only use them as tools. 

The matryoshka was also used as a tool in both: the photobook and exhibition. In my view, this helps me to express my statement about a study of one's inner world through looking at the photographs that can be compared to opening a matryoshka doll one after another. In my case, matryoshka is not a “traditional element” but a concept of opening dolls as a journey to reach the final one.

Guzal: That’s an intriguing perspective. As you’ve used the matryoshka as a metaphor for the unfolding of your inner world, what have you discovered so far within its layers? How has this journey evolved for you as both an artist and an individual?

Dmitry: This journey, much like the matryoshka doll unfolding, is still going on. Each layer reveals something new, but rather than reaching a final destination, I see this process as an ongoing evolution—both as a photographer and as an individual. 

I think The Inner World is just a part of this journey. As for the discoveries, I think this is for the audience to decide what they see in my photographs. Or they can just enjoy the process and follow me further.

© Dmitry Rambovskiy

Guzal: In your work, symbolism blurs the line between personal and universal. How do you navigate the balance between using symbols that are deeply rooted in your experience versus ones that might resonate with a broader audience?

Dmitry: I try to navigate this balance by focusing on the emotions behind a symbol rather than its direct meaning. By blending my own experiences with these broader ideas, I try to create work that feels both personal and, hopefully, widely accessible. 

Ambiguity is also important. In The Inner World, I have a photograph of a female statue reaching upward together with the brutally cut tree branches. Instead of forcing a single meaning, I leave room for the audience to interpret the symbols in their own way. This allows a personal symbol to take on different meanings and connect with people in unexpected ways.

© Dmitry Rambovskiy

Guzal: What is the most challenging part of your work? 

Dmitry: Many things are important in photography: camera, light, lens focal length, shooting location, shooting angle, etc. But the main role of any photograph is played by the photographer itself. 

In my opinion, the most important and challenging thing is to see the photograph or predict it before the camera captures it. 

Guzal: What if the photograph already exists somewhere, in a space between thought and reality. How much of your process is about uncovering something that’s already there, and how much is about creating something entirely new in the moment?

Dmitry: In street photography, I believe the process is largely about uncovering what already exists. The world constantly presents fleeting moments, and a photographer's role is to recognize and capture them. Interestingly, the Japanese word for photograph (写真) can be interpreted as “copying (写) reality (真)”, which perfectly encapsulates this idea — photography is, in many ways, a process of revealing what is already there, just waiting to be seen. However, creativity plays a crucial role in how these moments are captured. Composition, timing, use of light, and perspective all shape the emotional tone of an image. The same scene can feel entirely different depending on how it is framed, what details are emphasized, and what is left out. 

As for whether my work is more about discovery or creation, I’m not sure. These two elements are deeply interconnected. Street photography is both an act of seeing and an act of shaping — finding meaning in the everyday while using technique to transform it into something more.

Guzal: In The Inner World, there are several photographs accompanied by the question "Zachem," which translates to "Why" in English. Could you share what specifically captured your attention in these moments and the reasoning behind pairing the images with this question? What meaning were you aiming to convey through this approach?

Dmitry: This is a fairly common graffiti in Moscow, it is written as "why" or "why!", without a question mark. It does not have a specific meaning; everyone understands it in their own way. For me, it is a kind of "rhetorical answer" - "that's why". It is like an answer to either an unspecified question or any possible questions one may ask.  I used this image in the photobook layout because its meaning correlates with the photographs and the thoughts behind these photographs.

© Dmitry Rambovskiy

Guzal: Age is an interesting concept, would you agree?  As you age or mature, what specific aspects of your photography have evolved—be it your subject matter, technique, or emotional depth? Can you pinpoint a pivotal moment when you realized this shift?

Dmitry: I would say that it is not age, but life experience. After all, age can be biological and psychological. I think that photography changes with life experience, experience of shooting and analysis of the finished material. It seems to me that this happens gradually, including under the influence of the works of other photographers. As I continue doing street photography, I think I am making a gradual shift from monochrome to color photography, from expressing metaphor to curiosity.

Guzal: In The Inner World, the role of time in your images evokes profound reflections. How do you conceptualize time within The Inner World?

Dmitry: In The Inner World, I try to convey my attempt to actually feel the time, to feel connections of memories, experience, and the present. In particular, through the photograph of a square with a non-working clock and people walking away into the distance, I wanted to convey that time is hardly hours or minutes, but rather our perception, our inner feeling.

© Dmitry Rambovskiy

Guzal: Dmitry, I’ve heard about your upcoming exhibition in Tokyo titled Notes Vol. 1. The concept of a visual diary is delightful; traditionally, however, private diaries are meant to remain secret. On that note, what do you make of your own “secrets” in this collection? Why share these intimate moments and glimpses of your inner world with the public?

Dmitry: The Notes Vol. 1 photo exhibition is the starting point for a series of photo exhibitions where images are not bound by a single theme. Instead, each photograph tells its own story. While the idea of a visual diary suggests something deeply personal, I see this project more as a collection of short stories or notes — fragments of observations, emotions, and fleeting moments that stand on their own yet form a broader narrative when viewed together.
Eventually, as this collection grows, I would love to turn it into a notebook-style photobook, where each photograph appears on one page, and the opposite page is left blank for notes. This would allow the viewer to interact with the images in their own way — by writing day-to-day notes, their own life stories and thoughts.

---

Dmitry Rambovskiy’s photography invites viewers to explore the balance between opposing elements. His answers create a space where past and present, culture and universality, and individual and collective coexist. I find it is within these contrasts that his work finds its true essence.

******

I think that it is in human nature to seek answers. In this search, we create sophisticated systems or frameworks, hoping these structures will bring us clarity. Kuspit also suggests that the idea of the photograph, in part, is to deny time itself, and so, we create illusions of timelessness, capturing moments that appear eternal. (Kuspit, 2010)  Perhaps it is the fear that time will eventually run out. 

One might then ask: could we be crafting a parallel reality then? But why, you might wonder? I think it is again because of this primal drive to find answers, and when we do create a parallel reality, it simultaneously creates a space where we can compare our realities —one external and one internal—and in doing so, we might find out something we did not know before.

© Dmitry Rambovskiy

References:

THIN-SLICING REALITY by Donald Kuspit. (2010, October 14). Artnet. http://www.artnet.com/magazineus/features/kuspit/photography-and-consciousness10-14-10.asp

Sontag, S. (2008). On Photography. Penguin Classics.

Van Dijck, J. (2008). Digital photography: communication, identity, memory. Visual communication, 7(1), 57-76.

---

---

About the Author