Pavel Borisov


Pushchino is one of the few Soviet science cities that have almost completely preserved their external and internal identity in the Russian era. Like decades ago, it is one of the centers of modern science; leading scientists and researchers work in its institutes.

Being in Pushchino, you feel a little out of time. It seems that you find yourself in unexplored fantastic worlds, where everything you do not understand is created for some amazing purpose. The imaginary evidence of the stories of the employees of scientific laboratories fascinates and frightens — it seems as if you are speaking different languages with aliens from another planet.

I remember myself as a teenager. I remember the barrier that arose between me and my parents because of the inability to penetrate into their mysterious and fascinating world. Now, as an adult, I re-experience these feelings in Pushchino: talking to the researchers, walking along the corridors of institutes, just being on the streets of the city.

I take color and black-and-white photographs of modern Pushchino both on the territory of closed scientific enterprises and in an ordinary residential environment. Despite the abundance of modern artifacts, the city and its inhabitants do not look like today's heroes. Pushchino remains a typical Soviet science city, strangely frozen between two eras.