By Jonathan J. Kalmakoff
These rare portraits by topographer, photographer, traveler, orientalist, and ethnographer, Dmitry Ivanovich Yermakov, taken between 1890 and 1901, document Doukhobor life across the Caucasus—from village farmyards to urban studios—offering an unparalleled visual record of a community otherwise sparsely represented in imperial photography.
Biography
Dmitry Ivanovich Yermakov was born in Tiflis (modern Tbilisi) in 1845. His father, an architect of Italian origin who had moved from Odessa, married a local Molokan peasant woman; as a young man, Yermakov adopted his mother’s surname. After graduating from the Tiflis Military Topographical School, he turned to photography in 1866 and soon emerged as one of the leading photographers of the Caucasus.
By the late 1860s he opened the atelier Photography of the Artist Kolchin and Yermakov with landscape painter Petr Petrovich Kolchin. In 1870 he established his own studio on Golovinsky Prospekt (modern Rustaveli Avenue) – the city’s principal boulevard – which became so popular that virtually every resident of Tiflis sought to have a “cabinet portrait” taken there. During summers he also worked in the spa resort of Kislovodsk in the Stavropol region.
A tireless traveler, Yermakov devoted himself to landscape and ethnographic photography. He assembled a mobile field laboratory, simplifying and compacting his equipment for work in remote areas. Technological advances such as I. Filipenko’s “field camera” and D. Ezuchevskiy’s large‑format stereo apparatus further expanded his ability to capture difficult subjects. During this period, he learned the languages of the peoples he photographed – mastering ten languages and dialects by the early 1900s.
From the 1870s onward, Yermakov traveled widely across Persia, Turkey, the Crimea, the Caucasus, and the Trans‑Caspian region. His photographic postcards of Tiflis, Yalta, Gurzuf, Alupka, Feodosia, Tuapse, and Sevastopol—destinations considered exotic by many ordinary Russians – became immensely popular. He also served with Russian forces in the Caucasian theater during the Russo‑Turkish War of 1877–1878, documenting military events as they unfolded.
Yermakov received numerous distinctions: honorary member of the Caucasian branch of the Imperial Moscow Archaeological Society (1907), member of the Society for the Encouragement of Fine Arts in Tiflis (1897) and the Russian Archaeological Society (1881), Court Photographer to the Shah of Persia, and honorary citizen of Tiflis. He exhibited at the Paris World Exhibition (1878), the Anthropological Exhibition in Moscow (1879), and at exhibitions in Iran, Turkey, and Italy, and received a bronze medal for large‑scale photographic views at the All‑Russian Art and Industrial Exhibition in Moscow (1882).
In 1896 he published his monumental Catalogue of Photographic Views and Types of the Caucasus, Persia, European and Asian Turkey, followed by a 1901 supplement. Together they indexed 25,556 negatives, 3,000 stereoscopic photographs, and 127 albums – a vast visual record of the everyday life and customs of the region’s many peoples.
Yermakov remained devoted to photography until the end of his life. In 1912, already elderly and in poor health, he traveled to the remote highland region of Svaneti in northwestern Georgia, where he produced images of remarkable artistic quality, capturing with great subtlety the aerial perspectives and atmosphere of the mountain landscape. He died in 1916.
Today, his photographs are held by institutions in Georgia, France, Italy, Germany, the United States, the United Kingdom, and Russia (Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Krasnodar), as well as private collections worldwide, with the largest collection housed at the National Museum of Georgia in Tbilisi.
Slavyanka Village
In the summer of 1890, Yermakov traveled through Elisavetpol district and province (modern Azerbaijan). En route, he stopped in the Doukhobor village of Slavyanka, founded in 1844 at the confluence of the Gyzyl and Dzhagir Rivers. Then the largest Doukhobor settlement in the Caucasus, it had a population of more than 1,600 and an economy based on livestock raising, grain‑growing, market gardening, beekeeping, flour‑milling, trade, and cartage. During his visit, Yermakov produced a series of field portrait photographs of the Doukhobors he met there. Today, six of these photographs are housed in the Sobranie Museum (Музей Собрание) in Moscow.
The first photograph (10504/ПП) shows a group of more than thirty Slavyanka Doukhobors – primarily women and girls, with a few men and boys – in traditional dress. The men and boys wear wide trousers (shapovary), dark vests (dushegreika) over light or dark shirts, and high‑peaked caps (kepka). The women wear dark decorated jackets, gathered wool skirts with aprons (khvartik), white wool blouses with ruffled collars, and hand‑made hats topped with a large flower (kabardinka). These hats are sometimes worn beneath a wool head‑scarf (platok), which may be wrapped loosely and tied under the chin or wound tightly and tied at the back or side in South Russian style. Maidens wear white head‑scarves, while married women wear dark ones. The group stands before what appears to be a long, low‑lofted log barn (sarai).
The next photograph (10502/ПП) shows an unidentified Slavyanka Doukhobor family of thirteen – men, women, and children – posed in front of the same long, low‑roofed log barn. The group is arranged in a clear multi‑generational formation, with elders positioned centrally and younger children gathered at the front, reflecting the semi‑formal staging typical of Yermakov’s village portraits.
This portrait (10503/ПП) shows a large extended family or clan group of 58 Slavyanka Doukhobor men, women, and children assembled in front of the same low‑lofted outbuilding with a sod‑thatched roof. The size and arrangement of the group suggest a multi‑generational kin unit, with elders centered and younger generations positioned around them—a composition characteristic of Yermakov’s ethnographic work. To the right stands a homemade wooden harrow with wooden teeth, indicating the farmyard setting and the community’s agricultural livelihood.
The next photograph (10505/ПП) shows a middle‑aged Doukhobor couple – presumably husband and wife – seated closely together on a simple wooden bench at the entrance of their dwelling. Their formal posture reflects Yermakov’s ethnographic portrait style. The scene is set before a sizeable log house plastered with clay and whitewashed, with an open doorway and shuttered window beneath a high, sod‑thatched roof, emphasizing the domestic setting in contrast to the outbuildings seen in earlier photographs.
This portrait (10509/ПП) shows the same middle‑aged couple together with their children and grandchildren—fifteen persons in total—arranged in a clear three‑generation grouping at the entrance of their whitewashed, clay‑plastered log dwelling. Standing at the far right is a “Tatar” (Azeri Turk) constable from the nearby copper-mining town of Kedabek, identifiable by his uniform and Caucasian sword (khanzhar) worn at his side. His slightly separate stance underscores his official status and reflects the everyday interactions between Slavyanka Doukhobors and local authorities in the surrounding district.
This last photograph (10510/ПП) shows an elderly Doukhobor woman together with a middle‑aged couple and two children. Yermakov’s caption identifies them as Maria Malova, her daughter and son‑in‑law, and their children. Archival family lists for Slavyanka compiled in 1886 record Maria (1820) as the widow of Ivan Mitrofanovich Malov (1818), and indicate that her daughter in the photograph may be Maria (1846), Anna (1851), or Avdot’ya (1855). Members of this Malov family later emigrated to Canada in 1912.
Gorelovka Village
During his Caucasian journeys between 1880 and 1900, Yermakov also traveled into the Akhalkalaki district of Tiflis province, where he visited the Doukhobor village of Gorelovka. Established in 1842 at the junction of the Kochki and Bugdasheni Rivers, Gorelovka grew into the second‑largest Doukhobor settlement in the region, home to about 1,200 inhabitants whose livelihood centered on livestock‑raising, cartage, and later horse‑breeding and cheese‑making. While there, Yermakov produced several field portraits of the villagers he encountered. Two of these images are preserved today in the National Library of Georgia.
The first photograph (N 11101) shows a Doukhobor couple – presumably husband and wife – in traditional dress. The man, seated, wears wide trousers (shapovary), a white shirt with neckerchief, long overcoat (shinel’), and high‑peaked cap (kepka). The woman, standing, wears a dark gathered wool skirt, white blouse, and hand‑made hat topped with a large flower (kabardinka). They are posed before a mud‑brick house plastered and whitewashed, beside a simple wooden railing and wicker basket – details that evoke the domestic setting of rural Doukhobor life.
The second photograph (N 11100) shows the same Doukhobor couple seated on a wooden bench beside a younger man – presumably their son. They are posed before a wattle‑and‑daub structure, likely a stable or barn, its cracked clay surface and rough earthen ground emphasizing the utilitarian character of the setting. The image conveys a more intimate, domestic tone than the previous portrait, highlighting generational continuity within rural Doukhobor life.
Town of Akhalkalaki
During his Caucasian journeys between 1880 and 1900, Yermakov also visited the district capital of Akhalkalaki, a busy market town that served as the commercial centre for the surrounding Doukhobor villages. Doukhobor men frequently travelled there to sell livestock and dairy products, purchase supplies, or haul freight as part of their cartage trade. In the town, Yermakov photographed several of these men – likely traders or teamsters – posed against a makeshift portrait backdrop set up for the occasion. The resulting images combine ethnographic precision with a sense of itinerant livelihood, capturing Doukhobors engaged in the rhythms of regional commerce. Two of these portraits are preserved today in the National Library of Georgia.
In this photograph (N 11077), the Doukhobor Nechvolodov is posed seated before a plain backdrop. He wears a heavy sheepskin coat (tulup) and a dark fur hat (shapka), with only the collar of a white shirt and a neckerchief visible beneath. The portrait emphasizes the textured surfaces of his clothing and the strong, weathered features of his face. Although Yermakov did not record his given name, comparison with the 1886 cameral lists for the Akhalkalaki district suggests he may be one of several men bearing the Nechvolodov surname: Nikolai Fedorovich (1838) of Troitskoye, or Fyodor Mikhailovich (1830), Vasily Mikhailovich (1826), or Mikhailo Vasil’evich (1849) of Efremovka.
This next portrait (N 11078) shows the Doukhobor Trofimenko is shown seated before a plain backdrop. He also wears a heavy sheepskin coat and a tall sheepskin hat, with only the collar of a white shirt and a neckerchief visible beneath. The portrait captures the textured surfaces of his clothing and the wry, almost amused expression on his face. Yermakov likewise did not record his given name; however, a comparison with the 1886 cameral lists for the Akhalkalaki district suggests he may be one of several men bearing the Trofimenkov surname: Ivan Ivanovich (1845), Grigory Ivanovich (1847), Fyodor Antonovich (1842), Nikolai Antonovich (1847), Petr Alekseyevich (1838), or Ivan Alekseyevich (1842) of Spasskoye village; or Vasily Grigor’evich (1834), Mikhail Nikiforovich (1845), Vasily Nikiforovich (1847), or Grigory Danilovich (1843) of Tambovka.
Tiflis Studio
During this period, Yermakov also worked from his studio on Golovinsky Prospekt in Tiflis, the administrative centre of the Caucasus. Doukhobor men who travelled to the city for trade or official business occasionally visited the studio, where he photographed them in the formal cabinet‑portrait style using painted backdrops and controlled lighting. These portraits reveal a more deliberate, self‑presented aspect of Doukhobor identity, distinct from his field work, and show how rural visitors positioned themselves within the urban world of late‑imperial Tiflis. Several examples survive today.
This photograph (13324) depicts a Doukhobor family posed in Yermakov’s studio. A middle‑aged man and woman are seated at the centre, surrounded by three boys or young men and a young woman – presumably their children. Their traditional clothing, combined with the painted studio backdrop and formal arrangement, reflects how Doukhobors presented themselves within the conventions of the metropolitan cabinet portrait.
This photograph (3315) shows eight Doukhobor men posed in Yermakov’s Tiflis studio before a painted backdrop of trees and sky. Arranged in a balanced grouping of seated, kneeling, and standing figures, they wear their national dress, presenting a unified visual identity. Their composed posture and coordinated attire suggest a collective affiliation—possibly relatives or men travelling together for trade or administrative business. The image offers a rare studio‑based representation of Doukhobor men within the conventions of urban portraiture.
Other Portraits
Although only a small number of Doukhobor photographs by D. I. Yermakov are known today, the surviving catalogues of his work strongly suggest that his engagement with the community was more extensive than the extant material indicates.
His original 1896 Catalogue of Photographic Views and Types of the Caucasus, Persia, European and Asiatic Turkey—a monumental listing of some 18,000 images—contains no entries relating to Doukhobors at all, despite the fact that he was actively photographing in Doukhobor‑settled districts during this period. The absence is striking and almost certainly reflects gaps in the catalogue rather than a lack of photographic activity.
Further evidence comes from Yermakov’s expanded 1901 catalogue, which grew to 25,000 images and includes only six Doukhobor photographs. Of these six, only three correspond to the ten images reproduced in this article, while three additional Doukhobor photographs listed in the catalogue do not appear to survive or have not yet been located. These three are indexed as follows:
- 9764 Сигнахский узздь. Духоборы на покосе (‘Signakh district. Doukhobors haying”). (18х24);
- 9764 Сигнахский узздь. Рабочие Духоборы (“Signakh district, Doukhobor workers”). (18х24); and
- 9496 Тифлис. Музей. Группа: курдовь мужчинь, дукхоборка ць дукхоборомь (‘Tiflis Museum. Kurdish man, Doukhobor woman’). (18х24).
This mismatch between catalogue entries and surviving prints is significant. It implies that Yermakov produced at least several more Doukhobor portraits and views than are presently known, and that the ten images discussed here represent only a portion of his original output.
It is also possible that Yermakov photographed Doukhobors after the publication of his 1896 and 1901 catalogues. His fieldwork continued into the first decade of the twentieth century, and he is known to have added new material to his archive outside the formal catalogue structure. Yet even if additional Doukhobor photographs were taken after 1901, this does not explain why the Slavyanka photographs—dated to 1890—are entirely absent from both catalogues. Their omission suggests that the catalogues were never fully comprehensive, that some negatives were not incorporated into the published listings, or that portions of his Doukhobor work circulated separately from his main commercial archive.
Taken together, the catalogue evidence points to a broader, now‑fragmentary corpus of Doukhobor imagery. Yermakov’s working methods—traveling repeatedly through the Akhalkalaki district, photographing “types” and “views” systematically, and producing multiple negatives of the same subjects—make it highly unlikely that he photographed Doukhobors only a handful of times. Instead, the catalogues hint at a larger, dispersed, and partially lost body of work, the full extent of which remains to be determined. The current status and location of these additional photographs—whether preserved in uncatalogued Georgian archives, dispersed in private collections, or lost through the upheavals of the twentieth century—remain open questions, inviting further archival investigation.
