Self-portrait of Fr. Pavel Volyntsevich This year in Minsk, the photo album and catalog, The Priest with a CameraI, was published. Its release was timed to the 150th anniversary of the birth of Father Pavel Volyntsevich (1875–1962). This three-hundred-page book presents his unique creative legacy as a photographer.
The entire collection of photographs and negatives—fragile glass plates that survived the revolution and two wars—consists of more than 300 images. Thanks to these rare frames, one can see with one’s own eyes the life of the Belarusian countryside and trace the history of Orthodox Belarusians during difficult years for the Church—from 1900 to 1960.
Here are scenes of everyday life in the family of the rector of a small village church in Uzmeny of the Miory district of the Vitebsk region, ethnographic sketches, encounters between this unusual photographer and notable historical figures, and photographs of the holy sites of the Belarusian land.
The archive of Fr. Pavel Volyntsevich has been published after fifteen years of painstaking research by specialists—photographers, historians, archivists—along with the priest’s relatives from Belarus, Russia, and Poland.
The Story of the Discovery
When, in mid-2009, a few old negatives dated to the early 20th century came into the hands of Minsk collector Dmitry Serebryannikov, he had no idea that this would mark the beginning of a remarkable acquaintance with the work of a priest who had been passionate about photography his entire life—Fr. Pavel Volyntsevich.
V. Sutyagin with Fr. Pavel Volyntsevich’s granddaughter.
Dmitry Serebryannikov:
“By the time my collector friend had sold me about thirty negatives, I had already learned that no official images of Uzmeny from the early twentieth century existed. So I told one of the priests of the parish where I attend services about my acquisition. I also admitted that I didn’t know how to print these photographs. I had tried going to an ordinary photo lab, but they couldn’t manage it. The priest then introduced me to the photographer Vladimir Sutyagin.”
A photographic chronicle created by a village priest spans an entire half-century!
Vladimir indeed helped the collector scan all the negatives and obtain digital images. Moreover, he suggested the idea of organizing an exhibition of these unique photographs. Interestingly, among the negatives were not only images taken in Uzmeny. There were pictures of other settlements; a series of shots taken during the period of Polish rule in Western Belarus; and photos from the First World War. The oldest negative dates to 1900, and the last images were made sometime in the 1950s. Just imagine: a photographic chronicle created by a rural priest spanning a full fifty years!
Blessing of Waters. Theophany
The researchers were fortunate—many negatives were labeled with the location and date of the shooting. Thus, historian Vladimir Denisov, at Sutyagin’s request, soon identified the name of the priest who served in Uzmeny in the early twentieth century: Pavel Volyntsevich.
Vladimir Sutyagin:
“For us it was a celebration—we had found the name of the man who kept appearing in the negatives. But we were still guessing: Who actually took the pictures? Was it the priest himself? Only at the very end of the research did we receive confirmation that it was indeed him—we found a photograph (not a negative) with Father Pavel’s signature on it.
And then we came across a negative showing a gravestone with the inscription: ‘Deacon Konstantin Volyntsevich. Served in this church for 56 years. Died November 21, 1906.’ And we realized that this was the father of Priest Pavel Volyntsevich. Thus, the information we had discovered was confirmed, and we became even more eager to continue our search.”
A Unique Personality
Visit of a hierarch
Vladimir Sutyagin:
“We now know that Father Pavel served in Uzmeny from 1904 to 1947. We know the names of his close relatives—when they were born, when they married, when they died, and where they are buried. We even found the priest’s granddaughter—she passed away in Minsk at the age of 93 on September 1 of this year.”
I. Surmachevsky, D. Serebryannikov, and V. Sutyagin in the photographer’s studio
Dmitry Serebryannikov:
“When we finally contacted the granddaughter and began speaking with her, the priest’s personality and life appeared to us simply extraordinary. His father, Deacon Konstantin Volyntsevich, was orphaned at an early age and, through the kindness of a priest, lived at the parish. There he received basic education and was ordained a deacon.
“Imagine that at the end of the nineteenth century Grodno province was practically a remote backwater of Belarus. And yet this nearly illiterate deacon sent all three of his sons to study at the Vilna Theological Seminary. Such was his desire to have his children educated!”
Arrival
“Father Pavel was not only deeply and seriously passionate about photography—he was also interested in the natural sciences. His granddaughter told us that her grandfather set his clocks strictly by a sundial; he was very meticulous. And despite his many diverse interests, he not only zealously observed the letter of church law but lived according to its spirit.
He never smoked, never drank wine, never wore secular clothing—only his podrasnik (cassock). Father Pavel had many books on a great variety of subjects. In the photographs he is often seen reading newspapers, especially Russkoe Slovo. He kept bees. He painted in oils.”
Church in Uzmeny
Another interesting detail: At the beginning of the twentieth century, Fr. Pavel Volyntsevich had very few parishioners. At that time Uzmeny consisted of the church, the priest’s house, the psalm-reader’s house, and a few small farmsteads. The middle of nowhere… And in this remote place lived a priest-photographer; his wife played the piano—which stood in an ordinary rural cottage; in the rooms of this modest home grew ficus plants; and outside were carefully tended flowerbeds. And it seems no accident that in many photographs the priest is surrounded by guests—many guests, especially young people.
What and How the Priest Photographed
A little boat on the Dvina
What did Father Pavel Volyntsevich photograph most often? The life he observed around him: washerwomen washing clothes; peasants sorting carrots; timber rafts on the Dvina; the construction of a new house for the priest; guests arriving to visit the priest’s family… Perhaps time was less merciful to photographs depicting parish life in Uzmeny—only a few of them have survived.
Church interior Vladimir Sutyagin:
“Of course, one cannot say these photographs are highly professional. But from an amateur point of view, they are very good—especially because they were taken without bias. We must remember that in those days a camera was a rarity, not something every second person owned, as today.
The priest took photographs for himself, for his own photo album. And this gives them a certain charm—people behave naturally, without posing. For example, there is a very interesting action shot, which Father Pavel himself titled, ‘They Have Arrived.’ It shows guests arriving to visit Father Pavel’s mother. This moment was captured with a self-timer. The priest used it often, which is why he sometimes appears in the frame. With such a method, it’s difficult to predict where anyone will stand. To this day, I don’t know how he managed it. Usually he would set up the camera, wind the self-timer, and whenever it went off—it went off. That’s why in the photographs people are often looking in different directions—one turning a head, another with closed eyes. There was no command: ‘Attention, watch the birdie!’ The photographer wanted naturalness.”
Tea with guests
Dmitry Serebryannikov:
“In these old photos you can see how people dressed, what the interiors of their homes looked like. When you look at how people lived 100 years ago, you sometimes realize that some of us today may even live worse—not in terms of wealth, but in terms of quality of life…Yes, there were no computers or televisions back then, but Fr. Pavel got a radio receiver as soon as radio became available.”
Panorama of Uzmeny
And here is something truly astonishing: the fragile glass negatives (film did not yet exist at the beginning of the twentieth century) survived, while the photographs themselves did not. This question naturally arises when one examines the many negatives made by the amateur photographer of Uzmeny.
It turns out that in 1940 Fr. Pavel was left alone—his wife died. He lived through the Great Patriotic War and the German occupation in Uzmeny. In 1947 he moved to Sobakintsy (now Pervomaiskoye), near Grodno, to live with his son, who was also a priest. He took all his possessions with him.
But in 1948, on Holy Thursday, a great storm caused a massive fire, and the entire village burned down. The priest’s house was not spared. His camera, all his photographs, his library, and Fr. Pavel’s paintings were destroyed in the blaze.
After this tragedy, the priest served in various places: Grodno, Krevo, Shereshevo in the Brest region, and Volkovysk. And everywhere, despite his advanced age (he was already over seventy)—he continued trying to take photographs.
Paschal Procession
In 1956 Fr. Pavel returned to Uzmeny, to his wife’s grave, and also… to retrieve his archive of negatives. And here was a surprise: the negatives were being kept in the home of a local resident. Why? Perhaps there were simply too many glass plates, and since glass is heavy and very fragile, the photo archive was not taken with him to Sobakintsy. The priest arrived in Minsk and began printing his photographs anew.
The priest’s new house and the church
Dmitry Serebryannikov:
“Think about it. What kind of life was there in the country—famine and ruin, the authorities constantly repressing the Church. And yet someone kept these glass plates safe for nearly ten years for the priest’s sake! In Sobakintsy, the priest’s family lived in constant expectation of arrest. One day a parishioner came to them carrying a large empty bucket. They asked her, ‘Why did you come with a bucket?’ ‘To get some cabbage from you. You won’t need it anyway—they will take you away.’”
He left behind a vast archive of photographs that allow us to see with our own eyes the life of the Belarusian countryside
Father Pavel died with the rank of mitred archpriest, having received all the awards possible for a parish priest. He was buried in Volkovysk. His ministry continued for sixty-three long years, right up until his death. He left behind a good memory—and a vast archive of photographs that give us a unique opportunity to see and study in detail the life of the Belarusian heartland in the early twentieth century.
