“Hause” Spiele

My photographic story, “Hause” Spiele, is a journey across borders, seen through the lens of a camera. Moving from Ukraine to Germany was not simply a change of residence; it was a deep immersion into a different culture, mentality, and way of life. This forced displacement compelled me to seek anchors in an unfamiliar landscape, transforming my artistic practice into a vital tool for emotional survival and self-discovery. The title “Hause Spiele” (“House Games”) refers to the small rituals, discoveries, and acts of imagination through which a child turns an unfamiliar place into home.

Through the lens of my camera, I observe the transformation of my daughter, who, like a cell adapting to a new organism, gradually absorbs new realities and becomes part of German life. This ongoing visual project also reflects my own complex emotions and enduring connection to my native country, which continues to endure the devastating consequences of war. My photographs explore the tension between attachment to what is familiar and the desire to belong within a new social and cultural environment. By capturing these fleeting, intimate moments, I seek to reveal the quiet and often invisible process of rebuilding a sense of belonging in a new country. Through her curiosity and resilience, my daughter has become my guide into this new reality. She leads me toward a deeper understanding of home, not as a fixed place, but as something that can be created, nurtured, and reimagined. Her growth allows me to witness not only her transformation, but also my own.

Through these images, memory and hope coexist. The photographs document a departure while gently welcoming an uncertain yet promising future. Ultimately, this project is about the fragile process of building a home between two worlds, carrying the past forward while learning how to belong in the present.

Fondament has selected photographer Natali Agryzkova for the Instagram feature “Bildgespräche” (“Image Conversations”) within the collaborative project and open call "Ich seh' etwas, was du nicht siehst." In the frame of this Artist Feature, we've asked her some questions to lift the veil and reveal the backstory behind her series’ opening image.

What do most people notice at first glance when they look at this image?

Most people see a child standing behind a clothes drying rack. For some, it resembles a pair of wings; for others, a game or an improvised stage. It is an ordinary household object that, for a brief moment, stops being purely functional and becomes something almost fantastical.

What is something that people often overlook?

What often goes unnoticed is that this play does not emerge from carefree innocence but from the need to make sense of a new environment. The child is not simply playing – she is searching for a way to make an unfamiliar place feel like home. Everyday objects become a language of adaptation, while familiar domestic rituals become a way of creating a sense of safety in a place where memories have not yet had time to grow.

Which detail is most important to you, and why?

The most important detail for me is the small white ball. It appears almost accidental, yet it embodies a sense of fragility and instability. It can be moved with the slightest touch, just as easily as people tend to underestimate the emotional journey of someone trying to build a new sense of home. We often assume that adaptation happens quickly. In reality, it is more like this ball, constantly in motion, searching for balance. The child’s posture is equally significant. She stands with her back turned towards us, her face hidden from view. Without a visible identity, she becomes more than an individual; she becomes a space where viewers can recognise their own memories, experiences, or longing for home.

What reality does this image bring to light?

This image reveals the quiet reality of adaptation – a process that often remains invisible. We tend to speak about relocation as a change of address, but much less about the gradual emotional work of forming a connection with a new place. Home is not created by walls alone. It emerges through repeated gestures, everyday routines, and the imagination that transforms ordinary objects into spaces where belonging can slowly take root again.

What do you hope people will take away after seeing this image?

I hope this image encourages people to think differently about the idea of home. Home is not only a place we leave behind or eventually find. It is something we continuously create. Even after loss, displacement, or forced migration, the memory of a former home continues to live within our gestures, our habits, and the ordinary objects that surround us. It is through these seemingly insignificant things that a new sense of home is slowly, quietly rebuilt.