Odessa…a reason to return to Ukraine

poster - superukraineWhen I left Ukraine in April, I found it hard to say goodbye to new friends and colleagues so I made it easier for myself by stating that I wasn’t actually saying goodbye [forever?] because I would be coming back.

And now I’m packing a suitcase and checking the weather forecast. [I know it’s only the British who feel the need to pack clothes for every season when we go on holiday, but that’s because the average holiday week in July in the UK can contain wind, torrential rain, sunburn, relentless drizzle and fog, often in the space of a single day].

I’ll be visiting the Odessa International Film Festival this weekend, after stopping over in Kyiv to see friends, and to see what the capital city looks like in summer, rather than winter.

Stephen Frears will be in Odessa as one of the featured film makers at the 2014 Film Festival; and Hitchcock’s Blackmail will also form part of the Opening weekend, screened to an audience of thousands sitting on the Potemkin Steps. This year’s Film Festival is taking place, despite huge obstacles and with few resources, thanks to the dedication and hard work of people like Producer, Julia Sinkevych, and her team – she writes ” It is challenging this year, and probably the most difficult project in my career and in careers of my colleagues due to the situation in Ukraine”.

Poster comment after Russia annexed Crimea, displayed in Kyiv (April 2014)

Poster comment after Russia annexed Crimea, displayed in Kyiv (April 2014)

Ukraine is still in the news here in Britain but weekly, not daily. And the situation is still tense, especially in the eastern regions: a month ago, Izolyatsia – a vibrant platform for contemporary culture in Donetsk [see previous posts] was taken over by pro-Russian separatists; and my friend Olga wrote, after another murder in the centre of Donetsk ” It’s awful, and the most terrible thing is that we are kind of getting used to gun shootings and deaths of ordinary people.”

But she ended her email “Anyway, life is going on and kids are going on dancing, singing and doing a lot of interesting things. Besides, it is our common history which should be kept through generations.”

People’s resilience in the face of conflict is remarkable; and Olga’s positive statement, and the determination of the Odessa Film Festival team to go ahead with this year’s festival, is testament to that.

On a more mundane note, I’m looking forward to sitting on those Potemkin Steps (made famous thanks to Eisenstein’s 1925 film, The Battleship Potemkin)  by the shores of the Black Sea, in Ukraine’s third largest city, which was officially founded by Catherine The Great in 1794. By 1824, Pushkin was writing of Odessa that “its air was full of all Europe”, in reference to its extremely diverse population.

I’m also looking forward to taking a battered yellow marshrutka around town, eating a bowl of borscht, getting a receipt in a little box, seeing Napolean cake on every menu, and seeing friends and colleagues at the British Council in Kyiv, and in Odessa…

Advertisements

Museums of Now or Then?

Children playing under giant silk flag at Maidan

Children playing under giant silk flag at Maidan

I was recently asked by Kraina magazine to share some thoughts in response to the idea of a ‘Museum of Maidan’; and last weekend I took a marshrutka to Pereyaslav Khmelnitskyi, the “city of museums” which boasts at least 27 different museums.

Sign for the Museum of Bread

Sign for the Museum of Bread

I only managed to see the Museum of Bread and the Museum of Rushnyk, both contained within the outdoor Museum of Folk Architecture and Folklife, a picturesque location to which various historic buildings were relocated when the Dnieper river dams were built and several villlages were submerged.

Entrance to Rushnyk Museum

Entrance to Rushnyk Museum

The open air museum, and the various small museums within, were maintained with care and with a real attention to detail within displays. So there were fresh rushes on the floors and dried flowers were chosen to match the rushnyk (embroidered cloths) hung on the walls.

To western European visitors, the museums might seem old fashioned – no interactive flashy displays, no high tech gadgets to persuade hyperactive children that learning is FUN; just well-used historical objects placed in cases, or displayed within very old buildings, supervised by even older women. But I found these museums to be totally engaging – purposeful, with a singular sense of identity; intimate and small enough not to feel overwhelmed; and loved.

It made me think about how to ensure museums are places of passion as well as curiosity; of fierce learning and a sense of connection to what’s gone before; arousing the same passions in the viewer as in the collector, and thus defended for the future?

an informal Museum of Maidan is already happening in the square

an informal Museum of Maidan is already happening in the square

“Like Ukraine now, any ‘Museum of Maidan’ needs to face forward whilst respecting the past.  As well as preserving heritage, we need to make space for new conversations in and about the public realm, and for new traditions. How can we use the ‘Museum of Maidan’ to encourage people in Ukraine to participate in, and thus redefine, culture as something that speaks to us about life now?   A Museum of Now, as well as a Museum of Then.

I was particularly impressed by the spirit of creativity maintained throughout the adversity of the Maidan revolution…how people managed to subvert state power and the armed police by making small acts of individual protest that were a creative response to the dominant narrative of showing strength through combat: the piano-playing men and women on the frontline, whose fingers kept playing in temperatures below minus 20; the painted helmets bringing the tradition of ‘petrykivka’ to the protesters’ orange hardhats; the women holding mirrors up to the ranks of policemen, inviting them to look closely at who they were.

Window for blogI propose that the Museum of Maidan is not a place but a series of Acts of Creative Protest that celebrate the collective spirit of Maidan. Rather than a building, full of objects, could there be an annual call out for ideas which results in actions? Ideas shortlisted and winners agreed by a committee of experts who allocate resources to each year’s Maidan Museum of Now?  These small gestures of protest would honour the past by staying relevant to the present, responding to the specifics of new times and new places.

Tributes of candles and flowers brought daily

Tributes of candles and flowers brought daily

Another idea would be to make the Museum an event which involves both a temporary display of objects in public, and a shared civic curatorial responsibility.  People would be invited to bring an object of their choice – something which symbolises the spirit of Maidan to them – which would be displayed in Maidan Nezhalezhnosti for one day only. It might be something they made, or a photo, or a newspaper cutting. On that day, others might contribute by doing something in public like singing a song, reading out a poem, playing a tune for those that attend.

The final action would involve people leaving the square,  each person taking a single object away with them and looking after it at home until the following year… when the Museum opens again, for one day only.  The Museum is then both public, for a very short time, and also private, back in your home, with one object in your care…so the people are the curators, and the custodians of the Museum,and the event serves to remind us that we are responsible for looking after our society as carefully as we do our own homes and family.

Rushnyk on display inside a traditional cottage

Rushnyk on display inside a traditional cottage

Just as the work to create a better society in Ukraine carries on, and isn’t over just because a corrupt President has gone and there’s a new Parliament, so the struggle to create a better world continues beyond this country’s borders as well as inside. I would like any Museum of Maidan to connect with people engaged in peaceful struggle elsewhere: in Thailand or Turkey, Venezuela and Egypt. So could the Museum be something very small that contains fire or light which moves around the world –  kept alight by the care of those who are in the frontline, as a way of reminding us all that we do better if we think about others before ourselves?”

(This text was published in Kraina magazine, 20/04/14; a current affairs magazine published weekly in Ukraine)

 

And the bands play on…

Dakha Brakha at Sentrum in Kyiv

Dakha Brakha at Sentrum in Kyiv

Last week I got to see one of Ukraine’s most exciting cultural exports – DakhaBrakha, who play at music festivals all over the world. “Ethno-chaos” is how they describe their music; and their performance took us from intimate close harmony singing to riotously exuberant rhythms that left the sell out crowd at new music venue Sentrum stamping for more. With its roots in Ukrainian traditional song, mixed up with all sorts of African, Middle Eastern and techno influences, and an electric atmosphere – because they don’t play so often here now – it was a brilliant gig. The previous week I’d been to see O Children, a British band who hadn’t been put off coming to Ukraine by the unrest (unlike Kosheen, who cancelled recently) and whose commitment to playing in Kyiv was rewarded with a great response from the young crowd at another new music venue Yunist on Artema St.

I went back to Lviv at the weekend – to be a tourist, and hook up with John. Stuffed to its medieval brim with churches and restaurants and chocolate/coffee houses, it’s a delight to wander around. By chance, we had met Dr Igor H. an extremely knowledgeable tour guide, and he led us down tiny passageways, past bas-reliefs of men who didn’t pay enough attention to their partners, by bronze statues of painters and poets and Polish inventors, and into various baroque cathedrals and Jesuit churches…all the while telling the stories of Lviv’s history, when it was part of various empires – Austro-Hungarian, Polish, Swedish, Soviet, Nazi.

The Armenian Church was probably the most understated of all the places of worship, and had the most beautiful painting, with ghostly shapes picked out alongside the monks, but I lost almost all my photos so can’t share it – you’ll just have to make the trip to see it yourselves. The food was great – if occasionally overshadowed by the extravagance of the themed restaurants that Lviv prides itself on: like the extraordinary decor in Meat and Justice, where one sits next to various medieval torture contraptions, and the bill is delivered by an executioner with an axe!

Lviv Pharmacy

Lviv Pharmacy

Lviv is acknowledged to be the festival city of Ukraine – with something like 88 different festivals annually, which is taking its toll on the locals – but nonetheless, people were incredibly friendly and welcoming wherever we went. Stopping and opening a map elicits offers of help from passers by, and ending up in a traditional Ukrainian restaurant with no menu in English didn’t stop the waiter who spoke very little English from helping us choose a great lunch.

Podillya to Crimea

pic of lake and grotto

Sofiyivska Park in Uman, named after Sofia, a young Greek woman reputedly so beautiful she inspired her husband to build her this park in central Ukraine.

International Women’s Day is a significant celebration here – I’ve never seen so many people on the metro with flowers, we all got a day off work, and I made a trip to Uman (which happens to rhyme with Woman) by bus with an English teacher friend, Anastasiia.

Our destination was Sofiyivskii Park, created by a Polish aristocrat for his wife, Sofia, on her birthday in 1802. As a child, Sofia had been sold to a Polish Ambassador by her widowed mother; and was bought and sold throughout her life before she married Count Potocki.  She ended up having a tempestuous love affair with the Count’s stepson, which drove the Count to leave Uman, never to return. You can’t buy love, or at least you can’t buy everlasting love, even if you can make an everlastingly lovely park.

pic of lake

The Park was designed by architect Ludwig Metzel “to outshine any other park in Europe”, and it is indeed beautiful. We explored the gardens, grottoes and lakes; saw a red squirrel, warrior beatles, and a woodpecker; and found a man selling handmade wooden trinkets.

An impromptu celebration with rum
An impromptu celebration with rum!

His friends invited us to share rum and chocolate in the sunshine: so we drank 3 toasts – to Women in acknowledgement of International Women’s Day, to Ukraine, and to Love. You could almost hear the Polish Count turning in his grave!

060And from there to Vinnitsa – where we were greeted by a strangely lonely wedding dress on display in the bus station; and a day spent visiting the Museum of Nikolai Pirogov, an eminent surgeon whose home and pharmacy are now open to visitors.

Pirogov's MausoleumBut before the Museum, the Mausoleum – when he died aged 88, his wife had him embalmed, and we were taken into the cold marbled depths of this chapel to view the doctor’s body, now 130 years older, on display in a glass-topped coffin, surrounded by bouquets of plastic flowers.

Fishing in Vinnitsa

Fishing in Vinnitsa

Inside Pirogov’s home, we saw displayed the tools of this surgeon who had tried to mend the men wounded & shattered in the Crimean Wars of the mid nineteenth century. Outside the doctor’s estate today, men fished in the sunshine. I saw the first snowdrops, and my second red squirrel of the weekend; and all seemed peaceful.

But in Crimea now, in 2014, the Russian army is tightening its grip and the schism between Russia and Ukraine is widening.

I was actually supposed to be visiting Sevastopol in Crimea at the weekend, but the trip was called off because of the unstable and worsening position there. The referendum that’s been called for March 16 by the Crimean regional council is illegal, and the self-appointed leader of Crimea has no mandate to represent anyone. People who define themselves as Russian in Crimea number about 56%, (Ukrainians and Crimean Tartars make up about 34% of the region’s population) and it’s unlikely that even all of them want to become part of Russia…but the outcome of this week’s referendum will be rigged.

pic of waxworks

Waxworks of Dr Pirogov at work in his pharmacy

Most of the Crimean Tartars were deported by Stalin, but some have returned since the region became part of Ukraine. But since the arrival of Russian troops, many fear attack.

So do we face the prospect of another Crimean War? At least one colleague at the British Council thinks so and has left his job to respond to the call up by the Ukraine Army who are now training new conscripts for battle.

“Along the whole line of the Sevastopol bastions, which for so many months now had been seething with an unusually active life, had seen heroes released one by one into the arms of death, and had aroused the fear, hatred and latterly the admiration of the enemy forces, there was now not a soul to be seen. The whole place was laid waste, uncanny – but not quiet: the destruction was still continuing…….

Surging together and ebbing apart like the waves of the sea on this gloomy swell-rocked night, uneasily shuddering with all its massive volume, swaying out along the bridge and over on the North side by the bay, the Sevastopol force moved slowly in a dense, impenetrable crush away from the place where it had left behind so many brave men, the place that was entirely saturated in its blood; the place which for eleven months it had held against an enemy twice as powerful, and which it had now been instructed to abandon without a struggle.”

Leo Tolstoy, Sevastopol in August 1855

Chornobyl – lest we forget

photo of reactor number 4

the reactor encased in a concrete tomb, 28 years old and deteriorating

In April 1986 I was living in Finland and I remember the panic amongst the Finnish and Swedish authorities when massive levels of radiation started being picked up in the atmosphere… we were advised to stay indoors. The radioactivity wasn’t coming from within Scandinavia, but from the USSR. Visiting Chornobyl, just 80k north of Kyiv, 28 years later felt like a pilgrimage that I had to make, and I’m so glad I did.

the diving boards at the swimming pool in the Palace of Culture

the diving boards at the swimming pool in the Palace of Culture in Pripyat.

On the tour bus, we were shown a film that set the context – the model Soviet new town of Pripyat, built in 1970, and home to 47,000 citizens; the much older settlement of Chornobyl, surrounded by fertile land and forest known for its abundance of mushrooms; and Ukraine’s largest nuclear reactor. We drove through the outer exclusion zone, now home to 3000 workers, and were taken much closer to Reactor Number 4 than I’d imagined we’d go – here we witnessed the teams at work building the new sarcophogus which will roll into place, covering the disintegrating tomb that currently encases the still radioactive core.

pic of memorial

memorial to the 31 firefighters who died in the initial fire…many thousands more were to die later

The external decontamination operation has been massive and mainly successful – but the death toll was significantly higher than the 31 official deaths of the firefighters. Soldiers, who named themselves bio-robots, ended up doing the most hazardous work when the hastily fabricated clean-up machines failed due to irradiation; helicopter pilots, scientists, and other “liquidators” fighting to control the fate of the reactor, were the main victims at the time. Subsequently, 125,000 deaths have been directly attributed to the accident, and the incidence of thyroid cancer in children from the region numbers around 1 in 10.

Entertainment facilities in Pripyat included a ferris wheel and dodgem cars...

Entertainment facilities in Pripyat included a ferris wheel and dodgem cars…

In Pripyat, we walked around a ghost town that is being inexorably reclaimed by nature. From the lines of cots in the kindergarten to the empty diving boards of the swimming pool, from the supermarket with its signs for sugar, bread, and tea to the billboards in the Palace of Culture lying ready for the 1986 May Day celebrations, everything is pretty much as it was when the town was evacuated….too late to prevent contamination, finally the entire population was removed in 3 hours, on the understanding that they would return within 3 days. The scale of the Soviet authorities denial/cover up was described as criminal by our young guide, but there was also great heroism shown by the men involved in the clean up. Chornobyl remains the world’s worst nuclear disaster and many people are still living with its consequences.

the secondary school, eerily silent, and the playground a hot spot for radiation

the secondary school, eerily silent, its playground still a hot spot for radiation

In the UK, we are considering more investment in nuclear as a clean alternative – clean until something goes wrong, at which point the consequences of playing with nuclear fission are so extraordinarily massive as to convince me that this will be the way humans destroy themselves and the planet. Visiting Chornobyl now is a poignant and unsettling experience which I would recommend to anyone interested in the alternative energy debate.

through the school window, emptiness

through the school window, nature gradually reclaims its territory

Cossacks and pumpkins

Mother and child - not sure if this is traditional  Cossack baby wear...

Mother and child – not sure if this is traditional Cossack baby wear…

Kyiv’s main street, Khreschatyk, is pedestrian only at weekends – so instead of battling traffic, everybody gets out and about, walking up and down alongside the quad bikes, musicians, and the segways for hire.

main street is closed at weekends

One of the city’s main streets is closed to vehicles at weekends

It makes the city centre feel wonderfully democratic and friendly. You just have to avoid getting your photo taken with a fun fur costumed character who will then pursue you for money. We walked there to catch a marshrutka – the battered yellow minibuses that are part bus/part taxi – to get out of the city centre in search of cossacks…

We were heading out for lunch – in a restaurant in a place dedicated to maintaining Cossack traditions, where we drank chilli vodka with pickles, followed by rabbit stew.

Cossack arrives by horse, and impresses the ladies

Cossack arrives by horse, and impresses the ladies

picture of food

Rabbit stew on the right – and dill with everything

pic of women

check out those coat & boot combo’s

Natasha and I visited because there was a “celebration of Ukrainian womanhood” going on, which involved young women showing off their prowess – with song, dance, and some sort of treasure hunt.

Cossack judge - I think - the Hetman?

Cossack judge – I think – the Hetman?

Young men with their hair cut in a Cossack-style – chupryna (чуприна in Ukrainian),  or oseledets (Ukrainian: оселедець, which means herring) describes a man’s haircut which features a lock of hair sprouting from the top or front of a shaven head – galloped around impressively on horses, and showed off in front of the girls.

Pic of man on hosrse

His hair cut apparently shows that he’s not a full blown cossack yet

The wagon of pumpkins didn’t get used much – evidently, “in the old days” if you didn’t want to marry the boy who asked, you gave him a pumpkin by way of a brush off.  (See how I’ve slipped in a seasonal reference, but without mentioning Halloween, which isn’t really celebrated here).

Pumpkin cart with construction site behind!

Pumpkin cart with construction site behind!

In the evening, we swapped the rough wooden tables and earthenware crockery of the Ukrainian peasant for the luxury of the Panorama Restaurant at the Hotel Dnipro – where we could only afford one drink, but the view was awesome! 

View from Hotel Dnipro Panorama Bar - Rainbow Arch to right is Nations Friendship Arch

View from Hotel Dnipro Panorama Bar – Rainbow Arch to right is Nations Friendship Arch

Lard and the Lada

pic of lumps of lard

Lada: My first car was a Lada – which I had forgotten until coming to Ukraine. The cars in Kyiv are a good indication of the gap between the Rich and the Rest – lots of massive new 4×4’s with tinted windows, mainly BMW, driven by people who are on the phone and smoking while trying to manoeuvre through highly congested streets full of other drivers in similarly oversize vehicles, and then there are the Rest: people driving very battered ancient Ladas held together with string.

pic of jars of pickled veg

Pickled anything

Lard: People are slim – noticeably slimmer than in western Europe in general, and the UK in particular where we’re all a bunch of fatties in comparison to Ukrainians. This may be linked to the price of food, which is high. The average teacher earns about £300 a month, yet a lot of food is about the same price as in the UK. The staple diet appears to be apples – which are cheap and plentiful right now. There are lots of tiny old women laying out small displays of apples & mushrooms on street corners; and I’ve been shown the local market by a colleague, Masha.

pic of market

Pomegranates from Azerbaijan – he makes them into juice using a massive press

The cheese counter had 14 different women each serving their own special curd cheese; there was plenty of beetroot for borscht, grapes from Moldova, pickled cabbage and cheese-stuffed aubergine & peppers. And huge lumps of lard – a local treat which I’ve avoided so far. Probably because I’m not hungry enough. Like the British wartime diet of bread & dripping, I imagine you’re glad of a chunk of raw pig fat if you end up cold & hungry.

Church Bells v. Riot Police – this morning it was all going on down my end of town: the church bells at the monastery calling the faithful, and right opposite the church, the militia being trained in riot techniques: banging on their shields. And over all that, the ubiquitous Daft Punk’s Get Lucky playing through the PA at the start of the Kyiv Half Marathon.

Kissing – And finally, which comes first – the mistletoe or the kissing? There’s quite a lot of kissing couples around –  Kyiv’s clearly a romantic place; and there’s a lot of mistletoe – lots of trees bedecked with balls of mistletoe. Could these two things be related?

pic of ball of mistletoe

Is this responsible for all the kissing?