In the mountainous Adjara region of the former-Soviet state, Georgia, three girls pose for a photograph on a misty village road. The image, captured by photojournalist Natela Grigalashvili for her series Women with Headscarves, is a delicate portrait of youth and innocence; a time when something as simple as taking a photograph is an event. In it, the two eldest girls hold up a piece of black, transparent cloth for the camera: a fabric which will be made into headscarves for them after they marry, as a symbol of their femininity, loyalty, and “inner peace”.
“[Grigalashvili] is from Georgia,” says Gulnara Samoilova, editor of the illuminating new anthology Women Street Photographers, in which Grigalashvili’s image features. “I am from [the Russian Republic of] Bashkortostan. Even though they are worlds apart, when I look at this picture, I am transported back to my childhood.”
Growing up in extreme rural poverty in Ufa, the capital of Bashkortostan, Samoilova first turned to photography as an escape: a magical means of reimagining life’s mundanities, discovering people, places and things in a new light. A shy yet curious, risk-taking teen, she had her first image – a street photo of a lamppost made at night – published in the art section of a local newspaper, and thereafter, she was hooked.
She moved to New York in 1992, and would go on to garner first prize in the World Press Photo competition for her coverage of 9/11. “I see myself, my mother, and my grandmother when I look at Natela’s photograph,” Samoilova muses. “And that’s one of the most amazing things photography can do. Not only preserving a moment in time, but holding the power to transport you to your past; affirming a deep connection that exists nowhere except in your memories. Reminding us that we are more alike than we are different.”