ABSTRACT
The photographic archive assembled by the students and academics at the Lviv Center for Urban History sits apart from familiar tropes of photojournalism. As a powerful record of day-to-day existence, the archive gives visual form to the disruption and dislocation experienced in the immediate wake of the full-scale Russian invasion in February 2022. My chapter investigates the relationship between trauma, vernacular photography, and the documentation of the every day and asks how this project might yield new forms of visualising traumatic experience? Not filtered through the conventions of war photography, I argue that the images attend to a category of trauma called ‘quiet trauma’, or the trauma experienced by civilians geographically distant from direct armed conflict.
