In a world where the chaos of war often dominates headlines and conversations, finding quiet moments within that turmoil offers a powerful lens into humanity’s resilience. This is the approach of Virginia-based photographer Noah Stone, whose ongoing series, The Grey Zone, captures the juxtaposition of life and war in Ukraine.
What began as a trip to document the efforts of a non-profit organization in 2023 evolved into a deeply personal project—a chronicle of intimate and reflective moments amidst a backdrop of destruction and uncertainty. Through his images, Stone invites us into a world far removed from the familiar, yet strikingly human in its complexity.
Stone’s work will debut at Shockoe Artspace in Richmond, Virginia, on Saturday, February 1, 2025, with an opening reception from 2 PM to 5 PM. Attendees are encouraged to experience the evocative collection firsthand while reflecting on the humanity captured within each frame. Street parking will be available for this one-day event.
In this interview, Stone shares the journey behind The Grey Zone, the challenges of working in a war zone, and the moments that have left an indelible mark on his art and life. As this series premieres in Richmond, his story reminds us of the enduring importance of documenting not just the visible scars of war, but also the quiet, unseen strength of those living through it.
Can you share a bit about your background and what inspired you to become a photographer?
I began pursuing photography as a hobby in 2017. Over the years, photography changed my perspective and shaped how I perceive a moment in time. From there, I started making images that I felt best represented my vision. Some of my biggest inspirations, which influence my work today, are the greats like Robert Frank, Andre Wagner, and Michael Turek. In 2021, I opened Void Film Lab in Lynchburg, Virginia, with one of my close friends. Since then, I’ve spent the last three years investing in new and established film photographers while also growing my own photographic process.
What initially brought you to Ukraine, and how did this photo series come to life?
In 2021, I began talks with a non-profit based in my hometown about the work they were doing in Ukraine. They had been financially supporting local organizations on the ground with medical supplies, food, clean water, and more. That conversation evolved into a two-week trip in January 2023 across Ukraine. Alongside capturing images for the organization, I experienced a world unlike anything I’d ever seen before. During this trip, I began making images that I felt best represented the Ukraine I saw. This was the beginning of The Grey Zone.
You describe the series as capturing ‘quiet moments’ in a time of war. How do you approach finding and documenting these moments amidst such turmoil?
Quiet moments can be found everywhere, even in the midst of chaos—a moment between breaths, revealing an intimate look into a subject that most don’t have.
Making connections has been my greatest success in making images. Understanding how people live in the culture I’m capturing is invaluable. Whether I’m capturing a scene or a subject, knowing the context allows me to find the image. This applies to street-style shooting, where you compose and shoot quickly in the moment, or if you stage someone to capture a specific image.
What were some of the most challenging aspects—emotionally, logistically, or ethically—of working in a war zone?
Working in a country at war is a logistical nightmare. Each day is vastly different from the one before, and many images are made without knowing you’d be in that situation an hour prior. Navigating this as a storyteller is delicate—to enter into a space that isn’t my own to capture a culture that isn’t mine. However, gaining the trust of the people you are capturing is vital. Their personal struggles, as well as their struggles as a nation, are also vitally important to share. There will always be a give-and-take with this process. Knowing your heart is in it for the right reasons is crucial to ensure you don’t impose your own selfishness in the name of “art.”
Emotionally, working in a war zone has been the most difficult challenge I’ve ever faced. Initially, I tried to avoid confronting these emotions, but time and time again, I felt called into this work. Experiencing others’ pain while witnessing a war-torn nation firsthand compounds in unexpected ways. This body of work, which is far from over, has been the most painful yet rewarding work I’ve done so far.
Is there a particular photo or moment in the series that stands out to you personally? Can you share the story behind it?
I feel each image carries a certain weight from my time in Ukraine. The image “Before the Rockets Fell” is a personal story—one that has taken time to form into what it is today. It is the black sheep of the series, as it was created in post-production by rediscovering and combining photos I had taken.
In late 2023, I spent the majority of a two-week trip based in Kharkiv, the second-largest city in Ukraine. During my time there, we lived in an apartment near the city center—living, eating, and sleeping under the constant sound of air raid sirens, which served as a haven away from the front lines. My two friends and I grew to love this place. We spent each morning at the café beside our apartment, speaking broken Ukrainian and receiving lessons along with breakfast. After leaving Kharkiv and returning home, I saw news that the building next to ours had been struck by a rocket. Some were killed, many were injured, including children.
The image “Before the Rockets Fell” is a mixed exposure of the exact spot where the rocket struck, combined with other images I captured in that neighborhood. It was born from my own processing of that event.
The news about Ukraine has faded in some ways. What do you hope your work communicates to people who might feel disconnected or believe the situation has improved?
Yes, the news cycle in the U.S. has largely left Ukraine behind. I often have people ask me if the war is still happening, while I see friends in Ukraine post about the day’s latest attacks on civilians. The war continues, and we are now approaching the three-year anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion. From what I see, the Ukrainian people need Western support now more than ever. A new U.S. presidential term brings uncertainty for aid packages—uncertainty that Ukraine cannot afford. Russia continues to fight dirty, attacking civilian apartment buildings and infrastructure daily.
I hope my work helps viewers experience a world not so far from their own, facing the unimaginable.
How has working on this series changed you—as a person, as an artist, or both?
This work has changed every aspect of my life, with some changes I’m still discovering. I’ve learned heartbreak like never before, hearing stories of unfathomable loss and tragedy. For the first time, I learned how the heart hardens when exposed to such evil. At the same time, I’ve seen how the pain and suffering in Ukraine are only temporary. There is hope that reaches beyond borders and beyond this world. The comfort found in His truth became more concrete as I witnessed the resilience of the Ukrainian people.
As an artist, I think I’ve grown most in my approach to making an image. In these situations, you learn when to raise your camera and when not to. Sometimes, the relationship with your subject is more valuable than the image itself. Intentionality, whether through art or not, is what makes this series in Ukraine possible.
Why did you choose Richmond to debut this series? What do you hope the local audience takes away from it?
Growing up south of Richmond, I became familiar with the Richmond art scene around the time I began taking photography seriously. One of the first galleries I admired was Shockoe Artspace. Ryan Lauterio and Garreth Blackwell’s Shockoe Artspeak podcast was foundational to my beginnings as an artist, and working alongside them now to put on this show feels humbling yet full circle.
If there’s something I’d like the Richmond audience to take away, it’s a sense of awareness—not only of the difficult circumstances in Ukraine but also of one’s perception of them. We weren’t built to handle evil and despair on this scale, nor were we meant to become numb to it.
What’s next for this ongoing series? Are there future plans to expand or showcase it in other ways?
The next step is to continue shooting. I plan to capture images for this series for the foreseeable future. The Ukrainian people are still experiencing once-in-a-lifetime hardships, and it needs to be documented.
There will also be more gallery showings in the future as more images are made, most likely concluding with a book of the body of work.
Beyond Ukraine, are there broader themes or messages in your work that you hope resonate universally with viewers?
The Grey Zone is named after the theme of the series, taking place within the grey zone of Ukraine—the area between war and peace. Within this space, there are scenes that contrast one another—a seemingly normal reality blended with an unimaginable one. Through this lens, you glimpse the juxtaposition in which the Ukrainian people exist: life versus death, peace versus chaos, Western thought versus Eastern “Soviet” culture.
In these images, I find a full-scale view of the human experience. They show a connection to someone on the other side of the world who lives as I do—worrying about the same daily details—until that commonality is brutally interrupted by fear, pain, and sorrow. It’s a world so similar to my own yet broken by evil. Despite the hurt, we can find hope in Eternity for all who know Him.
