Sailboats and Swans by Michal Chelbin, produced between 2008 and 2010 in seven prisons across Ukraine and Russia, presents formally composed portraits of inmates in facilities for men, women, and boys. Created during a period when the legacy of the Soviet Union still shaped institutional life, the work engages with themes of identity, power, and marginalization. Chelbin, already established internationally, turned her lens toward correctional institutions not to document their systems, but to explore the human presence within them. Contrasting with more familiar media portrayals of prisons that emphasize energy and violence, Sailboats and Swans provided a nuanced alternative: portraits that resist reduction to criminality.
Building on her broader interest in subjects from outside the mainstream, Chelbin interrogates vulnerability and judgment through her sitters. The tension between internal complexity and institutional uniformity is heightened by the surreal surroundings: prison interiors adorned with domestic-style wallpapers depicting lakes, swans, and sailboats. These bucolic murals, commonly found in Eastern European homes, offer a jarring counterpoint to the realities of incarceration and anchor the series' title.
Technically speaking, Chelbin used a medium format film camera mounted on a tripod, composing each image in-camera and relying solely on natural light. Her portraits are square-format, richly colored, and minimally edited, emphasizing precision and intentionality. The sitters' direct gazes and staged stillness contribute to what she describes as a form of "assisted reality," a deliberate construction that invites psychological reflection rather than reportage.
Initially praised for its haunting aesthetic and emotional resonance, the project was widely exhibited and collected by major institutions, including The Metropolitan Museum of Art and SFMOMA. Critics highlighted its "eerie" juxtaposition of surface beauty and harsh context, which leaves viewers suspended between judgment and recognition—challenged to see not the prisoner, but the person.