When New York-based photographer and artist Kristina Shakht finished her latest photo essay, I can’t explain what I’m trying to say, she showed it to her therapist – as she often does. “She said it was very interesting that I chose to shoot a mermaid because she doesn’t have legs or a voice,” Shakht says. Only figures like Ariel from The Little Mermaid aren’t what Shakht remembers from her childhood. Born and raised in Russia, she says the mystical water nymphs of Slavic folklore tales come from pagan cultures. They’re haunting, empowered, and even dangerous.
The project came together over the course of a year and explores the mental toll of immigration. Shakht used one model to represent one character who is both a young woman and a mermaid (rusalka in Slavic folklore) and shot underwater on 35mm film. “The mermaid (rusalka) symbolises the experience of feeling like an exotic outsider while facing societal pressures to conform to new norms,” she says. “My goal is to depict the tension and sorrow of adapting to a new culture while striving to maintain one’s true self.” This journey is deeply personal: Shakht moved to the US from Russia alone just after turning 24.
Shakht says she doesn’t show her photos to her therapist for psychoanalysis but simply to talk about work (what she calls her ‘main stress in life’). After sitting with these images, however, she does find it ironic and somewhat humorous that the title now accurately represents how she feels when asked to elaborate on the work – tongue-tied and emotional.
Below, we chatted with Kristina Shakht about Slavic folklore, the mermaid figure, shooting underwater, and the mental toll of leaving your country (and family) behind.
‘I can’t explain what I’m trying to say’27 Images
This photo essay explores your feelings about immigrating to the US. What was moving like for you?
Kristina Shakht: For me, it’s a little complicated because I kind of immigrated twice already. I was born in Saint Petersburg, and my mum is Russian, but I lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico until I was four. Then my sister was born, and we went to Russia for a couple of months to see relatives, but we never came back. That was super traumatic because no one explained what happened. It had always been my dream to move back here because it felt like a home I was stripped of.
Did you experience culture shock when coming back? I know I did when I came here from New Zealand.
Kristina Shakht: When I got to New York, it felt like home because my dad is American. I knew the culture here and was up-to-date. I would always follow the news, and when Trump was elected, that was heartbreaking in 2016. It was weird in the beginning because I was generally happy to be here, but I still felt, like a lot of immigrants do, like I didn’t fully deserve it. I had been waiting for 20 years, and now this was mine, but when I told people where I was from, people would make jokes about me being a spy. They’d say, ‘You elected Trump’, and I was like, ‘What do you mean? I’m 24, and I just landed three weeks ago.’
You’ve been based in New York since then. Have you been able to go back to Russia?
Kristina Shakht: I can’t go back because of all the things I’ve said over the years. Plus, when the war started, I shot photos of anti-war protesters, so that would be up to 15 years in prison.
That’s really difficult. What about your family?
Kristina Shakht: I met my mum and grandma for the first time in five years in Turkey this year.
How did your childhood (and the move) inspire this photo essay?
Kristina Shakht: It’s about being a foreigner and being misunderstood. I lived in Russia and felt more American than Russian there, but in the US, I feel more European or Russian than American. Growing up, my family would go to a little cabin in the summer, like many people in Post-Soviet. As a kid, my family would tell me stories about what lives there. I was thinking about a specific visual of a Slavic mermaid and wanted to base a whole story on it to understand how it would look and emulate the colours. We have the Northern Lights in Saint Petersburg, so the lighting is specifically blueish during certain times of the day.
This isn’t the first underwater story you’ve shot – thinking of The Process of Healing for The Museum of Avant-garde last year. What keeps you interested in underwater photography?
Kristina Shakht: The underwater aspect – and especially shooting on 35 mm – is very unpredictable, mostly because you can’t see results right away. You need to be able to shoot almost blindly, without looking at a viewfinder, since the environment is pretty hostile. You’re being pushed to the surface and can’t stay underwater for long at once. So, in a way, it’s kind of like shooting documentary work.
There are multiple bodies of water in the images. Where was this shot?
Kristina Shakht: It’s all one model, and we shot it all in New York and all on film. We did two or three shoots in the pool and drove upstate five hours away to a beautiful lake, which took a whole day. We had already shot inside in a mode domestic environment, so I wanted a completely open space alongside more intimate spaces like bathtubs.
I know the series is about not having the words, but do you feel like you have them now that it’s complete?
Kristina Shakht: Growing up between two empires and being Russian-American is a pretty surreal experience. Over time, both identities have become both a joy and a burden and, at this point, I don’t feel a strong cultural connection to any particular identity. I consciously chose to embrace the aspects of both cultures that resonate with me or have personal significance. It’s still challenging, especially because every time you open your phone, you’re immediately bombarded with things you should be, think and do. I almost have to remind myself of who I am and what I’m not, in a way.
Visit the gallery above for a closer look at Kristina Shakht’s series, I can’t explain what I’m trying to say.
