Home news On asphalt we grow: the skateboarders of Ukraine | Ukraine

On asphalt we grow: the skateboarders of Ukraine | Ukraine

9
0

Far from the frontlines, the streets of some Ukrainian cities may seem to be returning to a semblance of normality, but nothing is quite the same. War imposes itself at every turn, between the shell-torn buildings, the sandbags on the corners of caulked windows and the antitank obstacles – dozens of them are piled up under a tarpaulin, as pictured below. By reclaiming these scarred spaces, Ukrainian skateboarders want to give themselves permission to live. To regain control of their lives in the face of a war that blurs their bearings.

Artem, 22, was born in Luhansk, a city in eastern Ukraine that was taken over by Russia-backed separatists in 2014 and was annexed by Moscow in 2022

‘Ukraine is like a jail you can’t get out of and Kyiv is my cell. Only skateboarding allows me to escape’
Alexandr

‘Exploring also means that we don’t go round in circles, that we don’t feel too confined or oppressed’
Diana, 16, Rufinq, 18, and Katreryna, 15, skateboard in front of the Kyiv Opera House
‘Skateboarding is a kind of meditation. When I’m skateboarding, I concentrate on the figures, on my friends around me. It calms me down,’ says Aleksandr
Skateboarders Sasha and Vasilkan pass in front of a Kiev fresco that commemorates the Battle of Kruty, in which Ukrainian cadets fought against the red army in 1918

‘What is left for us when we look ahead? Our horizon is nothingness. So we go skateboarding, that’s our only horizon’
Aleksandr

Skateboarder Alexandr, sums up the situation in which Ukraine’s young people found themselves in summer 2023. A generation suffocated in the middle of a war from which it cannot escape (men between the ages of 18 and 60 are not allowed to leave the country), living daily to the rhythm of the overwhelming news from the front, under the threat of forced enlistment on the street or a Russian airstrike.

A high school gymnasium in Izium. Many young people saw their studies come to a halt with the destruction of school infrastructure
Aleksandr, 24, in the middle of the crowd in Kiyv

‘It’s like a breath of fresh air in this swamp of problems. It helped me to face adversity’
Artem

Since the beginning of the Russian invasion, skateboarding in Ukraine has taken on a singular dimension: it is a way to escape. From a sport practiced in the company of homies, skateboarding has become a window to freedom in the middle of chaos and anxiety. A medicine for the trauma of war, a psychological support that has become vital for a disoriented youth. “A way of feeling alive, even when everything else is falling apart,” says Vasilkan, a skateboarder from Odessa.

Eric, 23, and Elia, 22, walk with their skateboards in front of a building bombed by Russian forces in Dnipro in 2023

Yet it is hard not to be drawn back to reality. Walking through the country’s skateboarding spots, war is present around every corner. Near vast brutalist-style squares, buildings lie gutted by Russian shelling and airstrikes.

Barricades block access to the damaged outlines of statues that skateboarders normally love to ride.

Young skateboarders ride in front of the Kharkiv National Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre in August 2023
Young skateboarders take a breather in front of the theatre, which also know as the Lysenko, named after the composer Mykola Lysenko
Young skateboarders goof around outside the Lysenko in Kharkiv in August 2023
Vasilkan returns to Odessa after spending 10 days in Kyiv with one of his skater friends

‘Strangely, I got used to war, to this permanent anxiety. She’s part of me now’
Vasilkan

Even the road composition reminds skateboarders of the situation: the rough ground that hinders them is turned towards the east and its Soviet past.

Eric, a 23-year-old Ukrainian skateboarder, stands in front of the remains of a building in Dnipro bombed by Russian forces in January 2023
Young skateboarders greet each other in front of the Kharkiv National Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre in August 2023

“Here, we grow up on asphalt, on poor quality ground for skateboarding. When you see the spots in Europe, it’s like dreaming with your eyes open,” says Eric from Dnipro.

Skateboarders are resolutely turned towards this Europe – the one in the west. Skateboarding appears to symbolise the fracture between Ukraine’s young people and a Soviet past that constantly pursues them, dragging them into a conflict from another time.

‘Before the war, the square was packed with people, there could be a hundred of us gathered here. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, so we give everything to skateboarding. We are no longer afraid of getting hurt or falling.’ says Artioum
Loud music, alcohol and drugs are sometimes not enough to forget the continuous flow of phone notifications, often carrying bad news from the fronts
Young skateboarders from Kyiv skateboard in the streets of the Ukrainian capital in September 2023
Small groups of skateboarders take a break in Kyiv’s Opera Square. Some have just returned from elsewhere Europe, where they fled to escape the Russian invasion

Ukrainian skateboarders who have not gone off to fight are fighting a completely different battle: to take back the streets and spaces marked by war, and allow themselves to live again.

‘A way to reclaim the streets and spaces marked by combat, through a sport historically oriented towards the west’
Robin Tutenges

Artioum shows off the tattoo on his ankle.

Skateboarding is also a mentality. You fall, you get hurt, you suffer, you scream, then you get up again. And then you do it again and again and again. This mentality, known as “Thrasher” after the US skate magazine, serves as a psychological support in the face of the uncertainty of war.

“Giving it our all, skateboarding faster, higher, that’s what keeps us going,” says Andrey, a 17-year-old Ukrainian who lived for several months under Russian occupation in Kupiansk. Roma, also from Kharkiv, adds: “Skateboarding isn’t just about going out on the street and playing sports. Above all, it’s a way of feeling alive, even when everything around you is falling apart.”

  • Robin Tutenges/Collectif Hors Format, with the support of France’s National Centre for Visual Arts (CNAP).

    The photographs are being exhibited at the Centre Photographique Marseille until 18 January 2025 and at the Centre Claude Cahun in Nantes from 5 February to 30 March 2025.

  • Art direction and design Harry Fischer. Development Pip Lev. Picture editor Matt Fidler.

source

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here