Trees everywhere, plants, animals, a landscape that embraced her. She wanted to touch it all, feel it, dissolve into it. The sense of relief and connection that arose there was something she did not want to keep to herself. She longed to create a work in which others, too, could experience that same closeness, that breath of nature.
And so it began…
September 2025. Olena Morozova has been staying in the Netherlands for Future photography residence for several weeks, together with her husband and two of their three children. Halfway through the interview her youngest shuffles into the exhibition space and climbs onto the platform, where he takes a seat behind a laptop to follow online lessons. Once again, there is this fragile sense of safety. On the table before us lie objects gathered from nature: sticks, stones, leaves. On the wall hang dozens of A4 sheets, painted with natural pigments like ochre, a gesture that carries something of a ritual.
In just a few days autumn will officially begin, but Olena is already sensing its arrival. Leaves drift down around her. “I don’t want to disturb nature,” she says. “I only pick up what has already fallen. There’s so much to find now.”
Although Morozova usually works as a storyteller—she has already published three books—this time she chose a different approach. No linear narrative, but an invitation simply to be present. “I want to bring nature into this space, so that the audience can feel that connection. Not a story, but an experience e.”
That experience begins with collecting. In Amsterdam’s parks and streets she looks for fallen leaves, branches, and tree bark. Sometimes she also brings shells, reminders from Ukraine or past holidays. “The process itself already connects me with nature,” she explains. “By walking, looking, and remaining open to what I find.”
The installation grows piece by piece. There are clay objects, a large stick in the corner, and soon there will be a circle where a performance will take place. She adds sounds of water and wind, creating a ritual atmosphere. “It becomes a kind of meditation,” she says. “I also write words on paper, manifest them as the voice of a stone or a root, and invite the audience to do the same. That way it becomes interactive; everyone can take part and create their own connection.”
Her love for nature goes back to her childhood in Ukraine. With her parents and friends, she often went into the forests to make barbecue, picnic, or gather mushrooms. Chestnut trees (Castanea), the symbol of Kyiv, still evoke a sense of home. “When I see chestnuts here, I am briefly returned to my childhood. We made little sculptures from them at school, gifts for our parents.”
Now, during the residency in Amsterdam, her eleven-year-old son helps her collect materials. “Sometimes he points out things I would have overlooked myself,” she laughs. “It’s nice that he is part of this process.”
The exhibition is nearly complete, but her work goes on. She is working on a new photo book, drawing inspiration from her youth in the 1990s, and continues to develop projects that weave memories and loss into art. Her earlier books were dedicated to her grandmother, sister and to her mother, whom she recently lost due to the stress of the war. “I consider myself a multidisciplinary artist,” she explains. “Photography remains my foundation, but I also use drawings, collages, installations, and performances. The most important thing is that creating brings me joy.”
Ultimately, The Roots Are Breathing is about more than nature. It is also about roots, memories, and the longing to find space to breathe in a time of war and uncertainty. “It is not only the root of a tree,” she states. “It is also our human roots, our memories, our bond with the earth. And those must keep breathing.”
The Residency is part of FUTURES X MPB residency, supported by MPB, the largest global platform to buy, sell and trade used photo and video equipment.
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