Pedestrians and workers pass an upside down car art installation in a car park on the South Bank in London, February 19, 2015. British artist Alex Chinneck's illusory piece, entitled “Pick yourself up and pull yourself together”, and on display in the working car park for a week, sees a Vauxhall car suspended upside down, appearing to be gripping onto a peeled back length of tarmac. (Photo by Toby Melville/Reuters)

Participants run through coloured powder during the Colour Run race in Moscow, Russia on June 5, 2022. (Photo by Maxim Shemetov/Reuters)

A man poses as his acquaintance takes pictures on a street in the town of Vyborg, Russia on January 28, 2024. (Photo by Anton Vaganov/Reuters)

Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill releases a white dove after a service marking the Holiday of Annunciation at the Kremlin in Moscow on April 7, 2023. In Christianity, Annunciation celebrates the revelation to the Virgin Mary that she would bear a son, Jesus. (Photo by Natalia Kolesnikova/AFP Photo)

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

North Korean women in colorful traditional dresses are surrounded by flower blossoms known as “Kimilsungia” as they wait to guide guests at a flower exhibition in Pyongyang, North Korea, April 14, 2014. The flowers, named after Kim Il Sung, are on display to celebrate the late leader's official birth date of April 15, 1912. (Photo by David Guttenfelder/AP Photo)

Greek actress Xanthi Georgiou, playing the role of the High Priestess, lights up the torch during the flame lighting ceremony for the Beijing 2022 Winter Olympics at the Ancient Olympia archeological site, birthplace of the ancient Olympics in southern Greece on October 18, 2021. The Olympic flame will once again be lit in an empty stadium on Ovtober 18, 2021, as it starts its truncated journey to Beijing for the Winter Games in February. Like the ceremony in March 2020 to light the flame for Tokyo, and like those Games, which were put back a year, Monday's ceremony is a victim of coronavirus restrictions. (Photo by Aris Messinis/AFP Photo)