Kristina Rozhkova turned her experience of being imprisoned into a stunningly brutal photo book about captivity, sadomasochism and cruelty (NSFW)

Trigger warning: the following imagery contains documentary footage of animal cruelty and themes of a sexual nature.

When artist and photographer Kristina Rozhkova was placed in a pre-trial detention centre in Russia after a criminal case was opened against her over a photo shoot, she became well acquainted with how it feels to be an animal in a cage. Two months in detention, four months under house arrest and one and a half years of attending court hearings – that’s what you get for being an artist. Kristina reflected on her prison experience, which led her into the annals of her childhood memories and her interactions with animals back then (her mother was a dog breeder) – it unexpectedly led her back to a primeval, core feeling hidden deep within: she felt like a muzzled animal that was thrown in a pound.

The result of Kristina’s experiences as a captive of the Russian state is a stunning, brutal photography book called Gut Feeling – and it hits you exactly in that titular gut. Filled with images that revolve around a universe of themes dealing with captivity, imprisonment, bondage, custody, servitude, Kristina’s images flicker between colour and black-and-white photographs, each playing with the textures of images, sometimes draining the colour out of mummy-wrapped masochists, rendering them into cocoons of desire, to colour stock that amplifies bloodshed and the fascinating complexions of animal skin.

“It seems to me that the topic of the cage and power is universally relevant [...] Essentially, all of human civilisation is built on constructing limitations. Man constantly creates restrictions for himself and for all living beings – he builds them for himself and for other people,” says Kristina. In order to further explore her own feelings of capture and imprisonment, Kristina integrated herself into BDSM communities to look at ideas of how authority can create alternative means of oppression, such as consensual captivity (for example, sexual submission which involves being locked in a cage for pleasure). Where there is danger, there is often sex. Where there is sex, there are harsh answers to why humans act the way they do.

Gut Feeling primarily explores imagery surrounding industrial farmers – Kristina shot veterinarians, zoologists, hunters, farmers and breeders to shed light on a topic of animal cruelty that many shy away from. “I studied traps and snares; I spoke with snake owners who breed their reptiles and feed them newborn rat pups; I also engaged with veterinarians who perform castrations and artificial insemination. It was genuinely fascinating for me to immerse myself in the worlds of zoology and animal husbandry – both as a researcher and by experiencing what it feels like to be those animals in cages,” says Kristina. “When visiting farms, I often felt like those animals and identified with them. When speaking with hunters, I tried to view the whole dynamic from the perspective of the victim and the trophy, as well as from the perspective of the hunter. I tried to look at the cage from the inside, from the outside, and to be the cage itself – to look at it all dialectically from multiple angles.”

The book is tied together with blood – the pinkish tones of intestines, bloody smears, the insides of dog’s mouths or a cow’s red eye upon a camera flash. Even in the black-and-white photographs, blood is instantly recognisable. There are the inescapable implications of animal violence, but also the tenderness of human bodies, the sexual danger of technology meeting flesh (following the rich veins of imagery seen in Cronenberg films). Gut Feeling offers the viewer a brutal truth of the world: that we are part of a natural system that follows that of a baboushka doll – our bodies hold our insides, our architecture holds our bodies, our states hold our architecture, our world holds our states.

“To be honest, I feel that we are seeking comfortable forms of captivity. Comfort – and the drive toward comfort – seems naturally and organically tied to creating new shackles. Because civilisation itself is a constant pursuit of comfort and capitalism is a continuous movement toward it. Comfort becomes so abundant that we almost choke ourselves with this vast amount of self-care, the constant upgrading of our living conditions, and the endless pursuit,” says Kristina. “There is a pull toward country life, but I don’t view it as a way out or as something that grants absolute freedom. I think freedom actually lives in each person’s mind [...] I believe reflection allows us to be free – self-reflection on all of this is what gives us freedom.”