How a Moldovan-Canadian photographer built an extraordinary career through genuine storytelling and global recognition

Yana Galetskaya started her career as a professional photographer in Moldova in 2017 before moving to Canada. Two years later, she’s published in over 20 international magazines, nominated for the United Talents Awards, and ranked among the Top 35 Photographers in Moldova and Top 50 Photographers in Canada by the prestigious 35 Awards. This July, her work was featured in the international exhibition “We, Together” at Eight Squared Gallery in the UK alongside established artists. In May, she served as a jury member for the PHOTO+Design Award in St. Petersburg. Since 2019, she’s completed over 200 photo sessions, building a reputation for capturing genuine family moments. Her work appears in Le Désir, Fine Arts, Vida Magazine, Hollyway Magazine, and numerous other international publications.

Let’s start with your most recent achievement. This July, your work was featured in the international exhibition “We, Together” at Eight Squared Gallery in the United Kingdom. This placed you alongside established artists like Juan Forgia, Nicolas Lado, and Valerie Deleon. How were you selected for this exhibition, and what does this level of international gallery representation mean for a photographer with your timeline?

You know, when I got that email, I thought it was spam at first. The curator had been following my work through various publications – apparently she’d seen my pieces in Fine Arts and Vida Magazine and something about the way I captured families caught her attention. She told me later they were looking for photographers who didn’t just take pretty family pictures, but who showed the real complexity of how people connect with each other. When she said my work showed “families as complete ecosystems,” that really hit me because that’s exactly what I’m trying to do – show all the layers, the tensions, the love, the messiness, everything that makes a family real.

When I received the images of how my work was displayed alongside the other established artists in the exhibition, it was surreal and terrifying. I kept thinking, “Do I really belong here?” But then people started reaching out after visiting the exhibition, talking about the emotional complexity they found in my family images – the same depth they were finding in the other artists’ work. That’s when it clicked that family photography, when done right, can compete artistically with any other genre.

The gallery representation opened doors I didn’t even know existed. Suddenly I’m having conversations with curators from other countries, collectors asking about prints, institutions interested in my work. Being featured in an international exhibition validates that my work has artistic merit beyond just commercial family photography, and it positions me in conversations I never imagined being part of as someone who’s only been photographing professionally for six years.

Your publication record spans over 20 international magazines including Le Désir, Ellas, Fine Arts, Marika, Prommo, Vida Magazine, Gerbera, Teen Cruze, Hollyway Magazine, Vous Romania, Dr. Wonder Magazine, and Photohouse Magazine. That’s substantial international media coverage. How did you build relationships with editors across different continents, and what editorial standards do these publications maintain?

Oh God, the early days were brutal. I was like a detective, studying every magazine I could get my hands on, trying to understand what they actually wanted versus what they claimed to want. Fine Arts would publish these gorgeous conceptual pieces, so I knew they weren’t interested in basic family portraits – they wanted story, metaphor, something that made you think. Vida Magazine was completely different – they wanted that aspirational lifestyle feeling, but it had to look effortless and real at the same time.

I remember submitting to Le Désir – one of my firsts international publications – and I must have rewritten that submission email twenty times. I was so nervous I included way too much explanation about each image. They accepted three photos, and I literally screamed when I got the acceptance email. My neighbors probably thought someone was being murdered. But that first publication taught me something crucial: editors can spot authentic work instantly, and they’re hungry for it because they see so much manufactured content.

The relationship building happened gradually. After a few publications, editors started recognizing my name. Then some began reaching out directly when they needed work that fit my aesthetic. Hollyway Magazine actually contacted me last year asking if I had any new family work because they remembered the emotional quality of previous pieces. That’s when you know you’ve developed a recognizable voice – when editors associate specific qualities with your work.

But let me be honest – not all twenty publications are equal. Some have rigorous standards and influential readerships. Others are basically glorified blogs that accept almost anything. The real validation comes from repeat publications and editorial recognition, not just accumulating credits.

In June 2024, you received a nomination for the international United Talents Awards in the Best Family Photographer category. This places you among the top practitioners globally. What specific work earned this recognition, and how does this nomination position you within the international photography community?

The nominated portfolio was this series I called “Between Spaces” – images that captured families in transitional moments. There was this one photograph of a mother watching her teenage daughter get ready for prom, and you could see in the mother’s face this mixture of pride and loss, like she was watching her child become a stranger. Another image showed a father teaching his son to shave, but the boy was clearly embarrassed and the father was trying so hard to make it a bonding moment that it became awkward and beautiful at the same time.

What I learned from the selection committee feedback is that they weren’t just evaluating technical skill – though that had to be flawless – they were looking for work that revealed something universal about the human experience through the specificity of family relationships. They told me my images showed “the poetry of ordinary moments,” which honestly made me cry because that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to achieve since I started.

The nomination changed how I’m perceived in the photography community completely. Suddenly I’m not just “that family photographer from Canada” – I’m being invited to speak at conferences, other photographers are asking about my techniques, gallery curators are taking my calls. It’s like I crossed some invisible threshold where my work is taken seriously as art, not just service photography.

But the pressure is real now. When you’re nominated alongside photographers whose work you’ve admired for years, you start questioning everything. Am I good enough? Was this a fluke? It’s taken me months to accept that maybe I actually deserve to be in that conversation.

You’ve achieved remarkable recognition through the 35 Awards – ranked among the Top 35 Photographers in Moldova and Top 50 Photographers in Canada, plus finalist status in “Winter Portrait of an Adult” and “Winter Portrait of a Child” categories. The 35 Awards are known for rigorous evaluation standards. What work earned these rankings, and how do you maintain relevance in both Moldovan and Canadian markets with their different aesthetic traditions?

The winter portraits that got me to finalist status were this series I shot during a particularly harsh Canadian winter. The collection included these ethereal images of young women in soft pink knits against pristine snow, their breath visible in the cold air, faces glowing with that unique light you only get from snow reflection. There was this one portrait of a girl in a white coat and pink tulle skirt, standing in deep snow like some winter fairy tale character, that perfectly captured the magic of Canadian winters.

But the most meaningful images came from working with this family where the grandmother had just moved from warm Moldova to frozen Grande Prairie, and she was struggling with the isolation and cold. The child portraits showed her grandson’s pure delight – him bundling up in white knitted hats, clutching his teddy bear while playing in the snow, that infectious laughter when he discovered how snow crunches under his feet. There was this beautiful contrast between his wonder at his first real winter and his grandmother watching from inside, seeing this harsh season through his joyful eyes.

What made these images work across both cultural contexts was focusing on universal human emotions rather than specific cultural markers. Moldovan photography tends to be more formal – there’s this tradition of posed elegance and technical perfection that comes from European influences. Canadian aesthetic preferences lean toward documentary authenticity and natural interaction. But loss, adaptation, family connection – these themes resonate everywhere.

The challenge is enormous though. When I submit work to Moldovan publications, I have to consider their appreciation for classical composition and formal beauty. Canadian clients want natural, lifestyle-oriented work that feels spontaneous. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in two completely different photographic worlds. But that dual perspective has actually become my strength – I can bring European technical precision to Canadian emotional authenticity, and vice versa.

The 35 Awards recognition in both countries proved to me that excellent work transcends cultural boundaries. When you capture genuine human emotion with technical mastery, it doesn’t matter if the judges are in Chisinau or Toronto – they recognize quality.

In May 2025, you served as a jury member for the annual independent PHOTO+Design Award, organized by the International Guild of Masters with support from the St. Petersburg Chamber of Commerce and Industry. For someone with six years of professional experience to evaluate work from established masters across CIS countries represents extraordinary peer recognition. What qualified you for this position, and what insights did this provide into international photography standards?

When they first contacted me about jury service, I thought it was a mistake. I actually called back to confirm they meant me and not some other Yana Galetskaya with twenty years more experience. But they’d been following my international publication record and felt I brought a contemporary perspective that complemented the traditional expertise of other jury members. They specifically mentioned my work bridging Eastern European and North American aesthetic approaches.

Working alongside photographers who’ve been shooting for decades was intimidating as hell. The first few evaluation sessions, I barely spoke – just listened to these masters discuss technical merit and artistic vision with this incredible depth of knowledge. But then we got to evaluating some contemporary family work, and I realized I was seeing things they weren’t necessarily catching.

There was this submission from a young Russian photographer shooting very traditional formal family portraits – technically perfect, beautifully lit, but completely emotionally sterile. The older jury members were praising the technical execution, and they weren’t wrong – it was flawless. But I found myself speaking up about how the work felt manufactured, how contemporary audiences crave authentic emotion over perfect execution. That sparked this incredible discussion about changing aesthetic standards and cultural expectations.

What struck me most was how different cultural contexts shape photographic approaches. Russian family photography emphasizes formal composition and classical beauty in ways that North American work rarely does. The cultural differences were fascinating to navigate – sometimes I had to really articulate why certain contemporary approaches resonated internationally when they might feel foreign to traditional Eastern European aesthetics.

But the best work – regardless of origin – shared certain universal qualities: genuine emotion, technical excellence, and the ability to reveal something true about human relationships. These qualities translated across all cultural barriers.

The experience completely changed how I evaluate my own work. I started applying the same analytical frameworks we used in our jury discussions to my own portfolio. Now I’m much more intentional about every compositional choice, understanding how each element contributes to overall emotional impact. Working with such experienced professionals forced me to articulate my viewpoints more clearly and think more critically about what actually makes photography successful at the highest levels.

Walk me through your jury evaluation process. What specific criteria did you apply when assessing other photographers’ work, and how has this experience influenced your own artistic development?

We had this framework – technical merit, artistic vision, emotional impact, innovation, and cultural relevance. But the real evaluation happened in the discussions between these criteria. I remember this one portfolio from a photographer documenting multigenerational families in rural areas. Technically, some images had minor flaws – slight focus issues, not perfect exposure. But the emotional authenticity was so powerful, the way he captured three generations interacting naturally, that those technical imperfections became irrelevant.

I found myself becoming the voice for contemporary aesthetic standards. Some work that felt traditionally perfect didn’t translate to how photography is being consumed internationally. I could identify which images would resonate with magazine editors or gallery curators who see thousands of submissions. There’s this subtle difference between technically correct work and emotionally compelling work, and having published internationally gave me insight into what actually moves people.

The most heated discussion was about a series of very stylized family portraits – almost fashion photography aesthetic but applied to families. The traditionalists felt it was too commercial, too focused on style over substance. I argued that contemporary families want to see themselves as beautiful, aspirational, that there’s nothing wrong with combining artistic vision with commercial appeal as long as the authentic emotion remains.

That jury experience taught me to articulate what makes images successful beyond just intuitive response. Now when I’m shooting or editing, I’m constantly asking myself: Does this image have technical excellence? Is there genuine emotional content? Will it resonate across cultural boundaries? Is it saying something meaningful about human relationships? It’s made me much more demanding of my own work.

Your technical expertise encompasses natural light photography, studio lighting, and advanced post-processing across Lightroom, Photoshop, and Capture One. You’ve also developed what clients describe as a signature editing style characterized by warmth. How did you develop this breadth of technical mastery, and how calculated versus intuitive is your aesthetic approach?

The technical development was pure survival necessity. When you’re building a photography business from zero in a new country, you can’t afford to turn away work because you’re only comfortable with one type of lighting. Early on, I realized I needed proper training in artificial lighting to compete professionally, so I invested in specialized education for studio work and artificial light techniques. That formal training gave me the foundation to handle any lighting situation confidently.

I remember this client wanted studio portraits for their holiday cards, and having that artificial light training made all the difference. Instead of fumbling through trial and error, I could apply what I’d learned about light ratios, modifier choices, and how to shape light for different skin tones and ages. The session went perfectly, they referred three other families to me, and that confirmed that investing in proper technical education pays off immediately.

That experience taught me that technical limitations are often just excuses for not investing in proper learning. Now I actively seek out challenging technical situations because I know my training foundation allows me to expand my capabilities confidently.

My signature editing style – this warmth that clients always mention – started completely intuitively. I was editing my early family work and noticed I kept pushing the color temperature toward warmer tones, enhancing golden light, making skin tones richer and more glowing. At first I thought I was just compensating for Canada’s harsh winter light, but then I realized it was deeper than that.

Warm tones create psychological associations with comfort, safety, intimacy – exactly what families want to feel when they look at photographs twenty years from now. But it’s not just about moving sliders in Lightroom. The warmth starts with understanding how different types of light interact with skin tones during shooting. Golden hour light behaves differently on children’s skin than adults’. Indoor tungsten light requires different approaches than natural window light.

The calculation comes in achieving this warmth consistently across vastly different shooting conditions. A family session in bright Canadian summer sun needs completely different technical approaches than a cozy indoor winter session, but the final emotional feeling should be similar. That consistency requires understanding the technical side deeply enough that the aesthetic choices become second nature.

Since 2019, you’ve completed over 200 photo sessions. That’s substantial volume while simultaneously pursuing international exhibitions and publications. How do you maintain artistic integrity with commercial demands at that scale, and what business strategy enables premium pricing in a competitive market?

Two hundred sessions in six years – when I see that number written out, it seems insane. Some weeks I’m shooting five different families, editing hundreds of images, managing client communications, submitting to publications, and trying to maintain some kind of artistic growth. The balance is constantly challenging, and I’ll be honest – sometimes artistic integrity loses.

There are absolutely sessions where I deliver technically excellent work that satisfied the client completely, but I walk away feeling like I produced content rather than art. Usually these are families who want very specific, traditional approaches – standard poses, conventional lighting, safe aesthetic choices. I do the work professionally, they love the results, but I’m not growing as an artist.

But here’s what I’ve learned – those safer commercial sessions finance the time and creative space for more ambitious work. Last month I photographed this amazing multigenerational family dealing with the grandmother’s dementia. They gave me complete creative freedom to document their reality, not just create pretty images. The session was emotionally exhausting and technically challenging, but it produced some of the most meaningful work I’ve ever created. Those images are now being considered for a major exhibition.

My business strategy centers around positioning myself as creating family narratives, not just delivering photographs. I spend time understanding each family’s specific dynamics, their story, what moments matter most to them. I remember details between sessions – how the kids are doing in school, what changes they’re navigating, what challenges they’re facing. That continuity creates relationships, not just transactions.

The premium pricing comes from delivering value that other photographers can’t replicate. Yes, anyone can take technically competent family photos. But creating authentic documentation of family relationships that will resonate decades later? That requires understanding human psychology, technical mastery, and genuine emotional investment. Families pay more because they’re receiving something irreplaceable.

Your work with children appears particularly sophisticated. Many family photographers struggle with young subjects because children resist direction. What specific methodology have you developed for capturing authentic moments with kids, and how does this contribute to your competitive advantage?

Working with children is like being a combination photographer, child psychologist, and entertainer, and honestly, it’s the part of family photography that separates competent practitioners from exceptional ones. Most photographers try to control children the same way they control adult subjects – through direction, posing, attempts to manufacture expressions. It never works because children are authentic by nature. They can’t fake emotions convincingly, and they have zero patience for artificial situations.

My approach is completely opposite. I create environments where natural child behavior can emerge, then position myself to capture those genuine moments. This means sessions run longer – sometimes twice as long as traditional family shoots. I budget extra time because rushing kills authenticity immediately. Children sense urgency and pressure, and they respond by shutting down or acting out.

I remember this session with four-year-old twins who were absolutely uninterested in being photographed. Their parents were getting stressed, the kids were getting cranky, and we were headed toward disaster. So I completely abandoned the planned shots and suggested we explore their backyard while I documented whatever happened. For the first thirty minutes, they barely acknowledged me. But gradually, they started including me in their games, showing me their secret hiding spots, explaining their elaborate imaginary worlds.

The breakthrough moment came when they decided to teach me how to properly climb their play structure. Suddenly I wasn’t the photographer interrupting their play – I was a participant in their adventure who happened to have a camera. The images from that session show pure joy, genuine sibling connection, authentic childhood wonder. Their parents cried when they saw the gallery because it captured their children’s personalities perfectly.

This methodology requires understanding child development well enough to predict behavior patterns. Three-year-olds need different approaches than eight-year-olds. Shy children require more patience and indirect engagement. High-energy kids need outlets for movement before they can settle into any kind of focused interaction.

But the competitive advantage goes beyond just getting good expressions from kids. When children are comfortable and authentic, the entire family dynamic changes. Parents relax when they see their kids genuinely enjoying the session. Siblings interact more naturally when they’re not being forced into artificial poses. The whole family becomes more genuine, and that translates into images that capture real relationships rather than performed happiness.

You mentioned developing your aesthetic through extensive experimentation. How did you establish this signature style that’s now recognized across international publications?

The style development was honestly chaotic for the first two years. I was trying everything – moody black and white work inspired by fine art photography, bright and airy images copying popular Instagram aesthetics, dramatic lighting copying wedding photographers I admired. My early portfolio looked like three different photographers had shot it because I was desperately searching for what felt authentic to my vision.

The turning point came when I started editing the same image multiple ways and really analyzing my emotional response to each version. I’d take one family portrait and create fifteen different interpretations – cooler tones, warmer tones, higher contrast, softer processing, different color grading approaches. Then I’d step away for a few days and come back to see which versions made me feel something genuine.

Consistently, I was drawn to the warmer interpretations. Not just warmer color temperature, but this overall feeling of golden light, rich skin tones, colors that suggested comfort and intimacy. I started researching why certain color palettes create emotional responses, studying how light affects mood and memory. I realized I was unconsciously recreating the feeling of golden hour light even in images shot under completely different conditions.

But developing the signature style required more than just color preferences. I had to learn to achieve that warmth consistently across vastly different shooting situations. A bright outdoor summer session needs completely different technical approaches than a cozy indoor winter session, but the final emotional feeling should be recognizable as my work.

The real validation came when magazine editors started referencing my aesthetic in assignment requests. Vida Magazine contacted me asking for “that warm, intimate feeling like your previous family work.” Fine Arts wanted images with “your signature emotional depth.” That’s when I knew I’d developed something distinctive rather than just competent.

Now I’m trying to evolve the style without losing what makes it recognizable. I’m experimenting with different compositional approaches, exploring more experimental lighting, pushing into more conceptual territory. The challenge is growing artistically while maintaining the warmth and authenticity that enabled my initial recognition.

Your international recognition creates interesting tensions between commercial family photography and fine art gallery placement. How do you reconcile creating work that satisfies paying clients with producing art worthy of exhibition alongside established artists?

This tension keeps me awake at night sometimes. Commercial family clients want beautiful, flattering images that celebrate their families and make them look happy and connected. Gallery curators want work that demonstrates artistic vision, conceptual depth, maybe even reveals uncomfortable truths about contemporary family life. These aren’t necessarily compatible goals, and navigating between them requires constant judgment calls.

My solution has been treating every session as potential source material for both purposes. I shoot what the family needs for their personal enjoyment, but I’m also watching for moments that reveal something universal about human relationships. Last year I photographed a family where the parents were clearly going through marital difficulties but trying to maintain normalcy for their children. The family received beautiful images focusing on connection and love – images that honored their desire to document positive family moments.

The ethical considerations are crucial here. Families trust me with intimate moments, and I can’t betray that trust by exploiting their vulnerabilities for artistic purposes. I’m completely transparent about my fine art practice, and I never use images for exhibitions or publications without explicit permission. Most clients appreciate that their family moments might contribute to broader cultural conversations, but consent is absolutely non-negotiable.

Sometimes the tension becomes more practical. I’ll be in a session where a genuinely meaningful artistic moment presents itself, but capturing it properly would require equipment or positioning that might disrupt the family’s experience. Do I prioritize the client’s immediate needs or pursue the artistic opportunity? Usually the client comes first, but it’s a constant balance.

The gallery work pushes my commercial practice in positive directions though. When I’m looking for authentic emotion and conceptual depth in every session, even purely commercial work becomes more interesting and meaningful.

Looking at the broader photography industry, family photography often receives less recognition than fashion, commercial, or fine art work. Your international achievements seem to challenge those hierarchies. How do you position family photography as artistically legitimate, and what resistance have you encountered?

The resistance is real and sometimes subtle. I’ve been in photography circles where mentioning family photography immediately changes how people perceive your work. There’s this assumption that family photography is technically easier, artistically less challenging, more about service than art. Some photographers have literally told me I should “graduate” to more serious genres like fashion or commercial work.

But this perspective completely misunderstands what exceptional family photography requires. Try managing five different personalities with varying ages, complex interpersonal dynamics, unpredictable emotional states, and changing lighting conditions while creating images that capture authentic relationships and genuine emotions. Fashion photographers work with professional models who understand direction and can perform on demand. Wedding photographers document one day with cooperative subjects who want beautiful images. Family photographers work with crying toddlers, rebellious teenagers, stressed parents, and elderly grandparents who all have different needs and comfort levels.

The technical challenges are enormous too. You need mastery of multiple lighting situations because families live in real spaces, not controlled environments. You need advanced understanding of human psychology to predict and capture genuine emotional moments. You need editing skills sophisticated enough to make every family member look their best while maintaining authentic feeling.

My strategy for challenging these hierarchies has been consistently producing work that competes artistically with any other genre. When my family images appear in galleries alongside fashion photography, fine art portraiture, and commercial work, viewers respond to the emotional depth and technical excellence without considering genre hierarchies. The “We, Together” exhibition placed my family work next to established artists working in various genres, and the emotional impact was equivalent.

The United Talents Awards nomination was crucial for legitimacy. Being nominated as the only photographer in the Art&Design category alongside artists from completely different disciplines meant the evaluation focused purely on artistic merit and creative excellence, not photographic genre assumptions. The jury saw family photography that revealed universal truths about human connection and recognized it as artistically significant enough to compete with painters, sculptors, and other visual artists.

Publication in magazines like Fine Arts and Le Désir helps too. These publications have rigorous curatorial standards and don’t accept work based on genre – they want images that demonstrate artistic vision and technical mastery. Getting family photography accepted proves the work competes at the highest levels.

But I’ve also had to develop thick skin. There are still photographers and curators who consider family work inherently commercial rather than artistic. My response is simple – judge the work itself, not your assumptions about the genre.

Your publication strategy seems sophisticated – you’ve mentioned understanding different editorial preferences and tailoring submissions accordingly. How do you balance artistic integrity with editorial demands across such diverse international markets?

For some magazines, I didn’t even need to pitch – the editors reached out after discovering my photographs on social media. That was the case with Marika Magazine.  

 Today, I treat each submission like a custom consultation. I study recent issues of target publications, analyze their aesthetic preferences, understand their editorial voice and audience expectations before submitting my photographs. For example, Fine Arts publishes conceptual work that makes viewers think and feel simultaneously. Their audience appreciates artistic complexity and emotional depth. Vida Magazine targets readers interested in aspirational lifestyle content – they want beautiful images that inspire rather than challenge.

For Fine Arts, I submit work that demonstrates artistic vision and conceptual thinking. Images that reveal something meaningful about contemporary family life, that could generate discussion about broader social themes. For Vida Magazine, I choose images celebrating authentic family connection with beautiful light and aspirational feeling – work that makes readers want to create similar moments with their own families.

But I never compromise my core aesthetic principles to match editorial preferences. The key is finding overlap between authentic artistic interests and editorial market demands. I genuinely care about family dynamics and human connection, which aligns perfectly with current editorial interest in documentary-style storytelling and authentic emotion.

The challenge becomes maintaining consistency while adapting to different markets. My work needs to be recognizable as mine regardless of which publication it appears in, but it also needs to serve each editor’s specific needs and audience expectations. This requires understanding my own voice well enough to know which aspects are negotiable and which are essential.

International markets add complexity because cultural preferences vary significantly. European publications often appreciate more formal, classical approaches. North American markets prefer natural, documentary-style work. Asian publications might want different emotional tones or compositional approaches. But exceptional work transcends cultural boundaries when it captures universal human experiences authentically.

You’ve transitioned from constantly pursuing publication opportunities to having editors approach you directly. What created that shift, and how do you manage increased editorial demand while maintaining artistic standards?

The shift happened around my fifteenth or sixteenth publication, when editors started referencing my previous work in new assignment requests. Hollyway Magazine contacted me asking for “family work with that intimate feeling like your winter portraits.” Vida Magazine wanted images with “your signature emotional warmth.” That’s when I realized I’d developed recognizable voice rather than just producing competent work that happened to get accepted.

Now about half my publication opportunities come through direct editorial contact rather than cold submissions. Editors remember my work, associate specific aesthetic qualities with my name, and reach out when they need images matching those qualities. It’s incredibly validating professionally, but it also creates new pressures.

When editors expect specific aesthetic approaches, there’s temptation to repeat successful formulas rather than pushing creative boundaries. I could probably get published regularly by producing variations on my established style, but that would limit artistic growth. The challenge is evolving while maintaining the core qualities that made my work recognizable initially.

Managing increased demand while maintaining standards requires saying no to opportunities that don’t align with my artistic goals. I’ve turned down assignments that would have been good for exposure but required compromising my vision or rushing work I wasn’t proud of. It’s better to have fewer publications that represent my best work than many publications that dilute my artistic identity.

Your client retention rates appear exceptional. What specific business practices create that loyalty beyond photographic quality, and how do you scale personal attention with growing demand?

Client retention is probably my biggest competitive advantage, but it’s also the most emotionally demanding aspect of my practice. I genuinely care about these families, remember details about their lives, follow their stories between sessions. When little Emma starts kindergarten or teenage Jake gets accepted to college, I’m genuinely invested in their milestones because I’ve been documenting their growth.

This level of personal investment creates incredibly strong relationships. Families don’t just hire me for photography sessions – they invite me into significant life moments. I’ve photographed newborn sessions, first birthdays, school graduations, family reunions, even some difficult transitions like divorces or illness. Being trusted with those intimate moments is an enormous responsibility that goes far beyond taking pictures.

But scaling that personal attention is becoming impossible. I remember when I could personally respond to every client email within hours, remember every family’s details without notes, maintain genuine relationships with everyone I photographed. Now I’m working with families I shot three years ago, and I need systems to track their stories and maintain continuity.

The solution has been developing what I call “structured intimacy.” I maintain detailed client records that include family member names, ages, interests, significant life events, previous session details. Before every repeat session, I review these notes so I can ask meaningful questions about their lives. It sounds calculated, but it enables genuine connection even as my client base grows.

I also limit my session volume intentionally. I could probably book twice as many sessions if I wanted to maximize revenue, but that would require sacrificing the personal attention and creative investment that differentiate my work. Instead, I maintain smaller volume at higher pricing, which allows time for relationship building and artistic development.

The emotional investment is exhausting though. When families are going through difficult periods – illness, divorce, job loss – I feel their stress genuinely. Professional boundaries exist, but they’re more fluid than other service businesses. Sometimes I find myself worrying about clients’ kids like they were my own family members.

International recognition through exhibitions and publications provides prestige, but how does this translate into actual revenue, and what business model sustains both artistic practice and commercial viability?

Direct revenue from exhibitions and publications is essentially zero. Gallery sales are rare, and magazine payments are minimal when they exist at all. If I calculated hourly compensation for time spent on artistic pursuits versus commercial sessions, the numbers would be depressing. But treating artistic recognition as pure expense misses its real business value.

The artistic credentials function as sophisticated marketing reaching clients willing to pay premium rates for exceptional work. When potential clients research my background and find gallery exhibitions, international publications, and award nominations, they understand they’re hiring someone whose work has been validated beyond local markets. That credibility enables pricing that reflects artistic value, not just service delivery.

A family that hires me after seeing my gallery work has completely different expectations and budget than someone responding to local advertising. They’re investing in artistic documentation rather than basic photography services. These clients typically book longer sessions, want more creative approaches, and understand that exceptional work requires higher compensation.

The artistic recognition also opens additional revenue streams that wouldn’t exist without credibility. I’m developing workshop offerings teaching my methodology to other photographers. Speaking opportunities at photography conferences provide both income and professional networking. Potential book deals or larger exhibition opportunities could generate significant revenue while advancing my artistic career.

But the business model requires constant balance between commercial sustainability and artistic investment. Some months I spend significant time on submission processes, exhibition preparation, and artistic development that generates no immediate income. Those investments only pay off long-term through enhanced reputation and premium pricing capability.

The risk is becoming too focused on artistic pursuits and losing commercial viability, or becoming too commercially focused and losing artistic edge. Both extremes would undermine the business model that depends on being recognized as both commercially excellent and artistically significant.

Looking ahead, you mentioned potentially pursuing solo exhibition opportunities. What work would you feature, and how would this represent evolution from your current practice?

A solo exhibition would be the ultimate validation that family photography can function as legitimate fine art, not just commercial service. I’m envisioning a body of work exploring how contemporary families navigate identity, connection, and change in an increasingly complex world. The images would come from my regular client sessions but be curated to reveal broader truths about human relationships rather than celebrating specific families.

The concept centers on transitional moments – teenagers becoming adults, parents becoming grandparents, families adapting to loss or change, immigrants creating new cultural identities. These universal experiences happen in every family, but they’re rarely documented honestly because families usually want happy, celebratory images rather than complex emotional reality.

For example, I have this powerful series documenting multigenerational families where grandparents are losing independence but struggling to accept help from adult children. The images show love, frustration, dignity, loss, and adaptation all simultaneously. Individual families received beautiful portraits celebrating their relationships, but the exhibition would present these images as exploration of aging and family responsibility in contemporary society.

The work would represent significant evolution from traditional family photography by treating personal moments as windows into broader cultural themes. Instead of documenting specific families, I’d be using family photography as tool for social observation and artistic expression.

But the ethical considerations are enormous. These images would come from intimate family sessions where people trusted me with vulnerable moments. Every family would need to understand how their personal stories might be presented in artistic context. The exhibition would require incredible care to honor both artistic vision and family privacy.

A solo exhibition would also establish family photography as legitimate fine art medium. When galleries present family work as serious artistic statement rather than just commercial documentation, it challenges genre hierarchies and opens possibilities for other photographers working in similar territory.

What specific goals are driving your career development now, and how do you balance continued artistic growth with established commercial success?

My primary goal is proving that family photography can achieve the same artistic recognition and cultural impact as any other photographic genre. I want to be known as an artist who happens to work with families, not just a family photographer who occasionally produces interesting work. That requires continuing to push creative boundaries while maintaining the authentic connection that enabled my initial recognition.

Practically, this means pursuing more gallery opportunities, developing exhibition-quality bodies of work, building relationships with curators and collectors who understand my artistic vision. I’m also working on workshop offerings that could share my methodology with other photographers while generating additional income streams.

But the commercial success creates its own challenges. I have families who expect specific aesthetic approaches based on my previous work with them. Changing too dramatically could alienate clients who specifically seek my established style. The balance requires evolution that enhances rather than abandons the qualities that created my reputation.

I’m trying to solve this by developing different bodies of work simultaneously. Commercial family sessions continue serving client needs while generating income for artistic pursuits. More experimental work explores conceptual territory that could lead to exhibitions or publications. Editorial assignments push me into new aesthetic territory while building industry relationships.

The long-term vision involves establishing myself as significant voice in contemporary photography, regardless of genre classifications. I want my work studied in photography programs, included in museum collections, referenced in discussions about how photography documents contemporary life. That level of recognition would validate family photography as legitimate artistic medium while establishing sustainable career combining commercial success with meaningful artistic contribution.

Finally, your trajectory from an aspiring photographer to an internationally recognized photographer in six years challenges conventional timelines for artistic recognition. What would you tell other photographers about building international careers, and what aspects of your success are replicable versus circumstantial?

The six-year timeline sounds fast, but every year felt like a decade when I was living through it. The early period was absolutely brutal – constant rejection, financial uncertainty, imposter syndrome, working eighteen-hour days trying to build a reputation from nothing. Success looks inevitable in retrospect, but it felt impossible while happening.

The replicable aspects center on obsessive dedication to quality and strategic thinking about career development. I studied the markets I wanted to enter, understood what publications and galleries actually wanted versus what they claimed to want, tailored my work and submissions accordingly. I also focused relentlessly on developing authentic artistic voice rather than copying popular trends or successful photographers.

But circumstances definitely helped. Moving to Canada provided access to markets that value contemporary aesthetic approaches more than traditional European markets might. My economics background gave me business development skills that many artists struggle with. The timing was right – I entered family photography just as clients were becoming more sophisticated about visual storytelling and less satisfied with generic approaches.

The most important factor was probably genuine passion for the subject matter. I didn’t choose family photography because it seemed commercially viable or easy to enter – I was genuinely fascinated by family dynamics and human connection. That authentic interest translates into compelling images because viewers sense when photographers care deeply about their subjects versus just executing technical competence.

My advice for other photographers is to find what genuinely interests you, not what seems most likely to succeed, then develop that interest obsessively while understanding the business realities of building sustainable careers. Study international markets, build relationships with editors and curators, develop recognizable voice, and never compromise authentic vision for short-term opportunities.

But also develop thick skin and realistic expectations. International recognition requires constant rejection, financial sacrifice, and years of work that might never pay off commercially. Only pursue this path if the work itself provides enough satisfaction to sustain motivation through inevitable difficult periods.

Yana Galetskaya’s journey from an aspiring photographer to internationally recognized photographer demonstrates that exceptional work can transcend traditional career boundaries and genre limitations. Her outstanding achievements position her among the most significant emerging voices in contemporary photography, proving that authentic artistic vision combined with strategic career development can achieve remarkable recognition in competitive creative industries.

Her recent exhibition at Eight Squared Gallery in the United Kingdom, combined with her jury service for international photography competitions, signals her emergence as an influential voice in contemporary visual storytelling.