Ivaylo Petrov, Portraits of Shame (2015), Boris Nedyalkov (paddle) – born on 25 June 1993 in Vidin. Rower for the kayak clubs “Bdin” and “Vanto – Vidin”. Currently a rower for the SC Levski, Sofia. Eight time republican champion of Bulgaria in the single kayak – in 2007, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014 and 2015. The only Bulgarian competitor in the Junior Olympics in Singapur 2010. Sixth in the European championship in Croatia in 2011 for juniors. Ranked 10th in the Jinior World Championship in 2012.
“Portraits of Shame” is a personal project that I photographed in the sports and hotel section of the Rowing Base in Vidin, shocked by the conditions in which athletes are forced to train and win titles despite them. Some of the most distinguished athletes who have brought numerous international accolades to Bulgaria kindly agreed to participate in the project.
Ivaylo Petrov
Changing Places: How Ivaylo Petrov Made Us Fell Ashamed?
author: Rosena Ivanova
“Portraits of Shame” is a project by photographer Ivaylo Petrov, inspired by the unthinkable conditions in which accomplished Bulgarian athletes are forced to train at the Rowing Base in Vidin. From the very title, we are invited to experience a specific emotion—one that encompasses psychological nakedness, humiliation, pain, guilt, and deep discomfort. Feeling shame is a state that allows you to recognize it in others and even adopt it as your own. It is often a tool of intimidation in the hands of politicians and authorities, used so frequently that it transforms public discontent into indifference. Ivaylo Petrov shows us that the same mechanism of governance and control can work in reverse, becoming a catalyst for social engagement.
In this series, the athletes, their surroundings, and objects are composed in a way that creates contradiction. They exist in a constant state of conflict, which manifests through contrasts between the foreground and background, the distribution of space, and the weight with which each object occupies its place. The sports equipment and attributes in the background are emotionally charged, creating a sense of tension and instability. The objects themselves remind us of their singular purpose—stripped of it, they evoke melancholy. The human figures, on the other hand, remain static, anonymous. Each element in the composition speaks for itself, but with one crucial focus—the untold story. The story of the training base. The story of these athletes and society’s attitude toward them.
Shame lingers like an almost institutionalized category. It floats in the air, surrounding the athletes. The images deny us clear information—faces are covered by hands, eyes remain unseen. The easiest way to decode their emotional state is intentionally withheld. Their posture is unnatural, static, almost monumental. Though we speak of individuals, we instinctively distance ourselves from them as such. We wander through the frame, attempting to decipher it through objects and environment: the trophies, the paddles, the peeling wall. The athletes themselves appear disconnected from their surroundings, their proportions mismatched, their presence almost hyperrealistic. We are forced to separate the figure from the background and complete the scene ourselves. The author grants us the right to segregate our gaze. The more we focus on the images, the more our eyes shift sharply between foreground and background—until we are compelled to perceive the composition as a unified whole. It is at this moment that the idea and images solidify, forcing us to recognize them in their tragic unity. The expression is painful, intimate—an emotion directly linked to the gaze of others, transforming into a collective experience. We are placed simultaneously in the position of observer and observed. The longer I look at these portraits, the more the true message crystallizes in my mind: the most troubling aspect is our own detachment from a deeply real and immediate reality.
I believe that Portraits of Shame achieves something central to any work seeking social impact. It creates conditions for shared viewing, engaging the viewer and placing them at the center of a situation that does not directly affect them. It draws them in while simultaneously confronting them with sharpness and insight. Ivaylo Petrov goes even further, reminding us that our discomfort can become a force, a position, and ultimately—an action.