Photographer Yevhen Maloletkas, laureate of the Pulitzer Prize, gave an interview to a humanitarian media hub where he discussed his path in photojournalism, a book about Mariupol, the Western audience’s perception of Ukrainian events, and the ethical limits of documentary work during war.
The Path to Photography
Yevhen says he became interested in photography while still a student—then it was just a hobby linked to a girlfriend who had a camera. Over time, the passion turned into a profession; he focused on documentary shooting and later tried his hand at filmmaking. According to him, different formats—photo, video, text—complement each other, and each story tells you how it should be told. He explains his motivation to keep working by the time and effort invested: love for the craft returns over time, regardless of profit.
Has the World Tired of News from Ukraine?
When asked about the shift in Western audiences’ attitude toward Ukrainian content since the full‑scale invasion, the photographer answered that one should separate the professional media environment from ordinary viewers. Journalists and editors have come to trust Ukrainian authors far more over the war years—national specialists have proven their level and actively present the country worldwide. For the average viewer, according to Maloletkas, the author’s role is secondary: the important thing is that the event is documented and shown to the world.
Media attention is much more strongly influenced by the dynamics of front‑line events. When combat operations become routine without headline‑making triggers, the number of publications naturally decreases. In contrast, statements from politicians, especially the U.S. president, can instantly raise interest in Ukrainian material. The photographer noted that he would like to see more neutral information triggers, but the reality of war constantly supplies tragic news about casualties and destroyed cities like Zaporizhzhia, Kryvyi Rih, or Kherson.
Read also:
Ukrainian Red Cross Talks About the Consequences of the June Strike on a Depot in Kyiv
The Book on Mariupol as Resistance to Forgetting
Maloletkas’s new book, recently released, focuses on events in Mariupol at the start of the invasion. He explained that it is fundamentally important not to let the city’s tragedy be forgotten, as its defense helped shape the front line, defend Kyiv, and prevent the capture of Zaporizhzhia. This price turned out to be extremely high due to the scale of human losses, and, in the photographer’s view, Russia should not be allowed to rewrite this history after occupation. The book is structured as a retrospective of journalistic experience—an attempt to show war through the eyes of the author and the people he met.
What to Shoot for Future Generations
Speaking about the role of visual documentation for future generations, Maloletkas emphasized that refusing to capture another shelling because of its “banality” is unacceptable. A photographer’s daily work is the practice of preserving memory: without photos, no evidence of what happened will remain. He gave the example of the first shellings of Kyiv, details of which few remember today, while strikes on a TV tower and the “Okhmatdyt” children’s hospital were etched into people’s memory thanks to visual material. He expressed hope for a national war archive that would gather disparate testimonies into a single database for researchers and future generations, though he acknowledged it is a complex and costly task requiring state and the Institute of National Memory involvement.
Rebuilding Cities and the Philosophy of Return
Regarding the future of destroyed settlements, the photographer is convinced that Ukraine must rebuild, not remain in ruins as a memorial. He compared this process to the reconstruction of Kyiv after World War II, when the city ultimately became better than before the destruction. At the same time, Maloletkas acknowledges that mass return of residents is only possible after the end of hostilities—currently millions of Ukrainians remain abroad precisely because of the risk to life.
People Who Stay Despite the Danger
The photographer paid special attention to civilians who refuse to evacuate even under the threat of occupation. He distinguishes those who stay to help others from those who endanger rescuers and volunteers by refusing to leave. According to his observations, there are cases where people abuse evacuation for humanitarian aid and then return to the pre‑frontline zone. As an example, he cited the story of residents of the Lyman bunker who survived occupation, de‑occupation, and new battles, refusing to leave the city despite repeated warnings.
The Story of a Photo from the Maternity Ward
Yevhen recounts his interaction with Mariupol’s midwife Mariya Vyshymyrska, whose photo after the shelling of a maternity ward went viral worldwide. The photographer explained that at the time of shooting, the goal was to capture the aftermath of the strike and show the world the fact of a peaceful target being shelled—just as the silent strike on Izium that day was only known after de‑occupation due to the absence of journalists on site. The woman’s subsequent public statements were not commented on by the photographer, who noted he has no intention to analyze others’ motives.
Journalism vs. Propaganda
Comparing Ukrainian documentary work with Russian content, one can draw a clear line between journalism and propaganda: the former provides facts for independent audience conclusions, the latter imposes a ready interpretation. According to Yevhen, Ukrainian material undergoes editorial review before publication, increasing trust in Europe, while in Latin America and parts of Asia Russian narratives still have significant influence. The photographer admitted that in the information war for audience attention—often consumed passively—Ukraine sometimes loses.
Ethics of Publishing Tragic Images
When asked about the limits of what is permissible in a frame, Maloletkas described a constant internal compromise between the need to show the truth and the desire not to inflict additional harm on victims. He acknowledges that some photographs hover on the edge of ethics, but insists: without publication, the tragedy remains unnoticed, because tomorrow a new one occurs. He explains the aggression from people who see these images after sleepless nights under shelling as emotional exhaustion, not the fault of journalists—the responsibility for the events lies with the aggressor country.
How Not to Burn Out After Years of War
Twelve years of work in a combat zone, according to Maloletkas, require care for one’s psychological state. He denies the emergence of apathy but admits that the marathon nature of war forces one to find ways to maintain resources—otherwise the risk of burnout is too high. The motivation to keep working remains the sense of usefulness: documenting war crimes and passing these testimonies to the media he sees as his contribution to the country’s fight.
Read also:
Watch How the Ukrainian Red Cross Evacuates People in Dnipropetrovsk Region