Meet Masha Gliebova

We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Masha Gliebova a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Masha, appreciate you sitting with us today to share your wisdom with our readers. So, let’s start with resilience – where do you get your resilience from?

I believe my resilience comes from growing up in a culture where art was both a luxury and a lifeline. I learned early on that creativity is not something fragile — it’s something that can carry you through chaos, disconnection, and change.

That belief was tested when I moved to the United States from Ukraine in 2022. I had to leave behind a thriving photography practice, a loyal client base, and the comfort of professional recognition. Starting over in a new country — with a different language, different expectations, and no network — was not easy. But it also reminded me why I became a photographer in the first place: to preserve stories, to hold on to what matters.

My resilience lives in that purpose. Every time I felt like disappearing, I created something instead. I kept photographing. I applied to exhibitions. I built new relationships, one person at a time. And slowly, the silence gave way to connection again.

This May, I’m opening my first solo exhibition in Houston — a city where I was once unknown. That moment didn’t come from luck. It came from showing up again and again, with or without applause.

Resilience, for me, isn’t loud. It’s quiet persistence. It’s continuing to create even when no one is watching — and trusting that one day, someone will.

Appreciate the insights and wisdom. Before we dig deeper and ask you about the skills that matter and more, maybe you can tell our readers about yourself?

I’m a photographer, artist, and visual storyteller. My work moves between two worlds — on one hand, I’m a family photographer focused on preserving real emotions and intimate moments. On the other, I create conceptual and self-portrait photography rooted in themes of identity, time, and feminine resilience. Both sides of my practice are deeply connected by one mission: to help people see the beauty in what’s real and lasting.

As a family photographer, I document relationships over time. Some families I’ve worked with for more than ten years — watching their children grow up, their homes evolve, and their lives unfold. I don’t direct much, I don’t over-edit. I observe. I believe there’s so much poetry in the ordinary when it’s seen with care.

At the same time, I’ve been developing Silver Waves — an ongoing portrait project dedicated to women who embrace their gray hair and age without apology. This is a project about visibility, beauty, and quiet defiance. It’s been a powerful experience, and I’m thrilled that one of the portraits will be exhibited at ImagiNation London 2025 this summer.

Right now, I’m preparing for one of the most important moments in my career: my first solo exhibition in the U.S., opening on May 16th at the Cultural Center “Our Texas” in Houston. Titled Light and Shadow, the show brings together my conceptual work, self-portraits, and emotional documentary pieces — all centered on light, memory, and the many versions of the self.

For me, photography is not about showing off. It’s about showing up — for people, for moments, for stories. And I’m incredibly grateful that, through this work, I get to be part of something that lasts longer than any scroll on a screen.

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

Looking back, I’d say the three most impactful qualities in my journey were:
sensitivity to emotion,
visual literacy,
The ability to keep going when no one’s clapping.

Sensitivity to emotion — This is the core of my work. Whether I’m photographing a family or creating a conceptual portrait, I’m always chasing a feeling rather than a pose. The most powerful images often come in the quietest moments. If you’re starting out, train yourself to notice the little things: a glance, a breath, a hesitation. That’s where the story is.

Visual literacy — Before I ever picked up a camera, I was reading paintings, films, and light. I still study cinematography and art history constantly — not to imitate, but to understand how images speak. If you want your work to resonate, you need to know the language of visual storytelling. Learn framing. Learn light. Learn why something “feels right.”

Perseverance without applause — There will be long stretches where no one notices. No awards, no likes, no exhibitions. That’s when your inner commitment matters most. Keep creating even when it feels like no one is watching — because eventually, someone will. And more importantly, you will have grown.

Before we go, any advice you can share with people who are feeling overwhelmed?

When I feel overwhelmed, which happens more often than I care to admit, I go back to the smallest, simplest thing I can still do with love. Sometimes that’s lighting a candle. Sometimes it’s editing just one image. Sometimes it’s stepping away from the screen and taking a walk with my son.

Overwhelm usually means I’ve drifted too far from myself — from my own rhythm and values. So instead of pushing through, I try to pause and reconnect. I remind myself that it’s okay not to be productive in every moment. I’ve learned to listen to my nervous system more than my to-do list.

One strategy that helps: I give myself one hour with no expectations. Not to rest, not to create — just to be. Usually, in that stillness, something gentle returns — an idea, a bit of joy, or the courage to keep going. I believe creativity needs room to breathe. So I make space, and trust it will come back.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://mashaglebova.com
• Instagram: @mashaglebova1
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mashaGlebova/

Image Credits

Lisa Evtushenko, Eugeniy Evtushenko, Valentina Tuimi, Agata Puchkina, Daniil Gliebov, Natalie Openchenko, Svetlana Steba