I grew up in the countryside of Latvia’s Latgale region, not far from the borders with Russia and Belarus, and spent my early childhood in the final years of the Soviet Union. Since Latvia regained independence in 1991, the border with Russia has been marked only by boundary posts rather than barriers. The war in Ukraine and the growing confrontation between Russia and the West have brought renewed attention to Latvia’s eastern frontier. Historically caught between Western and Eastern Europe and now situated on NATO’s outer edge, Latvia is often imagined as a frontier between two worlds. Across much of Europe, borders are barely noticed. Here, however, in the past two years, the frontier has been fortified with fences, watchtowers, and patrols, making the abstract line tangible.
The project began with a simple question: What does it mean to live in the borderland in this geopolitical moment? Understandably, in this climate, the fence has become a necessity. Yet it also interrupts the ancient routes of migrating animals and reshapes both the ecological balance and the cultural landscape. In some villages near the border, residents have even had to demolish small outbuildings or wells that lay too close to the fence. The borderland is not a uniform territory, nor can it be described as a single whole. It is layered — on one level, a visible landscape of defence infrastructure; on another, an invisible terrain of stories and memories that slip across boundaries. An elderly woman named Ilga, for example, was born in Abrene — once part of Latvia, now within Russia. Near the fence, a man points across to a house on the far side, where his grandmother once lived. With this project, I approach the border not as a line but as a living phenomenon — one that exists simultaneously in geography, in human relationships, and in ways of thinking: a fragile weave of geopolitics, ecology, and everyday life, where memories and futures constantly cross.
‘Border zone’ sign wrapped around a tree near Piedruja village. Today, the village has just around 100 residents, including Belarusians, Russians, Poles, and a small number of Latvians.
Children building a treehouse in the bushes, with Soviet-era houses of Liepna visible in the background.
Newly constructed fence at the Russian border in Adēze Parish. The total cost of the 283.6 km Latvian-Russian border fence is approximately €145 million, or about €510,000 per kilometer.
Pontoon bridge over a lake used by the National Guard for patrol. Previously, patrols had to walk around the entire lake.
A crucifix inside a modest roadside shrine, typical in many parts of Latgale. Very often, borderland residents identify themselves more by religious affiliation — Catholics, Orthodox, Old Believers — than by nationality, such as Latvian, Polish, or Russian.
Refugees playing football in the schoolyard of the asylum seeker accommodation center “Liepna”, 2nd biggest in Latvia. Liepna. March 2025
The entrance into Latvia and the European Union via the Silene crossing point on the border with Belarus, closed since 19 September 2023. A long line of anti-tank hedgehogs is stacked along the road, ready to be deployed if necessary.
Roadside motel. During open border times, it was frequently used by travelers from Russia. The owner mentions that client numbers dropped since the border closed.
Interior of the motel. The owner’s husband, a former officer (self-portrait on the left), is a self-taught painter. Below the tapestry is a weapons collection and a Soviet-era passport.
A truck parked by the roadside, painted with characters from the film Rocky IV: Soviet boxer Ivan Drago (top) and American boxer Rocky Balboa. The movie was released in 1985 symbolically represents Cold War tensions, portraying the West as a force of freedom and individualism, and the Soviet Union as a cold, disciplined, and technologically advanced opponent.
High-voltage lines disconnected from the Russian grid. Russian line visible in the background; collapsed pylons in the foreground. Viļaka District. On February 8, 2025, Latvia, along with Estonia and Lithuania, permanently disconnected from the Russian-led BRELL power grid, marking a significant step toward energy independence and integration with the European Union’s electricity network. Viļaka District.
Maintained garden located just a few meters from the Russian border. Goliševa.
Defense education class led by an instructor in the park of Viļaka Secondary School. Latvia is the only European Union country where compulsory defense education is implemented at the secondary school level. 12 May 2025. One of the first schools to introduce military training in high school before it was made mandatory.
Figures made from rubber tires by a local resident. Common type of environmental decoration in post-Soviet countries. Baltinava.
The border with Russia is in Goliševa.
Textile artist Annele Slišāne lives with her family and six children just a few hundred meters from the border, in Upīte, Viļaka municipality. The forest visible in the background lies already within Russian territory.
Wood piles in apartment courtyards and people chopping firewood are a common sight in borderland areas. During the Soviet era, apartment buildings were connected to central heating, but today each property owner is responsible for their own heating. Often, every apartment has its own stove.
Sauna building located directly at the border. The landowner explains that his grandmother used to live in the house visible on the other side of the fence. The sauna is no longer used, as the fence has cut off access to the small river where one could take a refreshing swim after a sauna. Viļaka District.
Soviet-era figures — a fox and a crane — by the roadside, from a popular Russian folk tale. In the story, the fox serves food in a flat dish the crane cannot eat from, and the next day the crane serves food in a narrow vase the fox cannot eat from, teaching the moral: treat others as you wish to be treated.
My father watches over the bonfire in the small village of Dviete in the evening. I spent most of my childhood in Dviete, and this place holds very special memories for me.
Defense infrastructure placed alongside the road. Kārsava.
Anatolijs in front of his house in Goliševa. Almost every yard in Goliševa is surrounded by tall fences. Goliševa is a village near the border, where there used to be a border crossing point with Russia.
View from a resident’s kitchen window in Goliševa, with the Russian border fence visible just a few hundred meters away.
Interior of an abandoned house just a few hundred meters from the Russian border. This is a common sight in the borderland, where many houses are empty and some villages are entirely abandoned.
Painted garage doors in Viļaka, featuring an idyllic scene with deer and a stream. In many post-Soviet areas, where wealth is limited, residents often take pride in beautifying their surroundings themselves, decorating homes and structures by hand.
Two deer stand on opposite sides of the border fence, each unsuccessfully trying to reach the other. While the main purpose of the 420 km barrier is to prevent illegal crossings, it also disrupts wildlife migration routes.
In Žīguri village, residents have dug a pond in their yard. This practice is common in many Latgale villages, where limited resources encourage self-reliance and community-driven improvements.
Vizma, in her apartment in Žīguri, serves me tea while reading aloud her own poetry in Russian.
High-voltage lines disconnected from the Russian grid. Concrete poles are being cut and dismantled.
A beekeeper explains that a bear, which came from Russia, has destroyed several of his apiaries in the border area. On his phone, he shows me a video of the damaged hives.
A wooden bear sculpture chained by the roadside, near the sign ‘medus,’ which means ‘honey.’ Bears are commonly used as a symbol of Russia in visual and cultural references.
A signpost marks the end of the borderland — a 2 km wide strip only accessible with a special pass issued by the State Border Guard.