What drives a photojournalist is curiosity and the will to bring things that are going wrong to public attention. I try to carry out my reports within this framework. The Muslyumovo project came about in this way: the United Nations and various NGOs identify, almost every year, the places in the world that are in the worst ecological condition, and the town of Muslyumovo in Russia’s Chelyabinsk region is usually among them. During my tenure as bureau chief for Sipa Press in Moscow, I wanted to see Muslyumovo up close and understand the living conditions of the people there. After a long journey by plane and car, when I arrived in Muslyumovo, the scene before me was one of complete disaster. A factory that poured copper and sulphur fumes from unfiltered chimneys over a lake, and the inhabitants of the town dominated the landscape like a ghost. Children were swimming in the lake, which contained heavy metals and countless toxic waste materials. A significant part of the population was struggling with cancer and similar diseases.

One of the most important parts of my work is to go to places where not everyone can go, places people do not know, or are not even aware exist, and to tell the life and human stories found there. Once I have determined the place and subject of a report, I research the conditions for getting there. For this, I seek support from NGOs and media organizations. If I cannot obtain the support I expect, I will finance it myself.

What takes me to the places I mentioned is the desire to tell human stories, to reveal what is going wrong, to inform the public, and to create awareness around these issues.

I know, above all, through experience, when the time has come to share an image with the public. If the people whose stories I tell are no longer able or willing to remain silent, if there is no additional detail I can add, and if what they are going through carries urgency, then for me, the time has come to share those images. The responsibility I carry toward the people I photograph, or toward the subject itself, is shaped by professional integrity, conscience, and the duty to do my work properly.

Among the moments that have stayed with me most during the journeys I have made to produce photographs was when, during the Chechen War, the neighborhood where the house I was staying in in the capital, Grozny, came under bombardment. The people in the house put themselves in danger to protect me, throwing themselves over me to shield me from the shards of exploding window glass. In that city, a guest is regarded as a guest sent by God.

I decide what can be shown through the experience that years have brought me. When my photographs are published, the safety, dignity, and privacy of the people who are their subjects are extremely important to me. They must not be harmed. If I have the slightest doubt on these matters, I prefer not to publish those photographs.

A photojournalist should be able to photograph everything, and should photograph it; I do the same, because my work is to photograph people and events. But afterwards, I think carefully and decide which images I will publish or send to agencies. Here too, the safety, dignity, and privacy of the people are decisive for me.