Black-and-white photography has a way of stripping an image down to its emotional core, and in the hands of Ukrainian photographer Dmytro Komissarenko, it becomes something transportive. His portraits don’t just present the male body, they reshape it into something mythic, intimate, and slightly unsettling in the best way.
Across this striking series, Komissarenko captures sculpted physiques posed with intention. Every angle feels deliberate, emphasizing muscle, tension, and stillness. But what lingers longer than the bodies themselves is the fantasy layered over them. Masks, headpieces, and obscured faces recur throughout the work, pushing the images beyond traditional nude portraiture and into something more cinematic.
At times, the figures feel almost otherworldly. Some headpieces resemble aquatic breathing gear, others evoke gas masks pulled from a dystopian dream. The question hangs in the air: are these men human, or something evolved beyond us? That ambiguity is where the work thrives. You feel pulled into a sci-fi universe while still registering the undeniable seduction of the male form.
From Personal History to Visual Language
Komissarenko’s approach is deeply rooted in self-reflection. Raised in Zaporizhzhia, an industrial city in southeastern Ukraine, he grew up surrounded by cameras. His father’s interest in photography sparked early curiosity, leading Komissarenko to experiment with equipment long before he imagined it as a career.
A spontaneous shoot later pushed him toward photography professionally. Influences followed, Helmut Newton, Bruce Weber, Stephen Meisel, but imitation was never the end goal. Instead, Komissarenko developed a visual language that centers his own internal world, using other bodies as vessels for his thoughts.
That inward focus carried through his move from Zaporizhzhia to Dnipro, and later to Kyiv, where his work found an audience open to experimentation. The city gave him space to explore themes of identity, exposure, and concealment without compromise.
The Power of What’s Hidden
One of the most compelling aspects of Komissarenko’s photography is what remains unseen. Faces are often covered or cropped out entirely. Rather than distancing the viewer, the absence invites projection. A hidden face becomes a stand-in for unspoken emotion, private fear, or withheld desire.
In his own words, the exposed body and obscured identity coexist by design. Nudity becomes permission, while concealment becomes protection. The tension between the two is where meaning forms.
By centering nude male bodies, still a subject policed and misunderstood online, Komissarenko quietly challenges who is allowed to be seen and how. His work isn’t interested in shock for shock’s sake. It asks viewers to slow down, linger, and assign meaning on their own terms.
Art, Censorship, and Control
Like many artists working with the human form, Komissarenko navigates censorship across platforms with intention. Public-facing spaces lead viewers toward more open ones, eventually arriving at places where the work can exist uncensored. Rather than seeing restriction as an obstacle, he treats it as a funnel, one that guides audiences toward deeper engagement.
The line between art and pornography, he suggests, depends less on the body itself and more on execution. Context, composition, and intent shape perception. A naked body, after all, is only as provocative as the story surrounding it.
An Invitation, Not an Answer
Komissarenko doesn’t demand understanding from his audience. His goal is simpler and more generous: to hold attention. If someone pauses, studies a frame, and imagines their own meaning, the work has succeeded.
These portraits don’t explain themselves, and that’s their strength. They invite curiosity rather than closure. In doing so, Komissarenko reminds us that photography isn’t just about what’s visible, it’s about what we’re willing to confront when we look a little longer.
To see the full gallery and explore more stories like this, Gayety’s Substack has you covered.
