|Maria, Tatiana, Olga, and Anastasia.|
Four teenage girls. Innocent to a degree unusual, even for the time. In a room they share, family photographs all around, books and papers, a bust of their father on the table. Just a happy evening playing dress-up. But is there something else about the poorly focused photographs, taken without sufficient light, bearing the scratches and fading of time? Are they more than casual snapshots; is there something other to the images? Or is it merely our inability to overlook their deaths, only two years later - shot and bayoneted in a basement - and see these as just five photographs of loving sisters at play?