{"id":12580,"date":"2025-01-08T12:59:38","date_gmt":"2025-01-08T09:59:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pastfutureart.org\/kharkiv-case\/"},"modified":"2025-06-06T17:35:46","modified_gmt":"2025-06-06T14:35:46","slug":"kharkiv-case","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pastfutureart.org\/en\/kharkiv-case\/","title":{"rendered":"Kharkiv\u2019s North Saltivka: memorializing the experience of war"},"content":{"rendered":"\r\n
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In 2024, a group of Ukrainian artists, sculptors, architects, and researchers came together to develop ideas for Kharkiv-based memorial projects to help locals work through their experience of the Russian invasion. The effort was a part of Memorialization Practices Lab, a learning and research project aiming to find a memorialization language for the Russian\u2013Ukrainian War.<\/span><\/p>\n

Before starting on their projects, the participants attended lectures and workshops, learned various approaches to working with collective memory, and went on memory site expeditions to talk with the local community and authorities.<\/span><\/p>\n

Here, we present ideas and drafts rather than memorial designs ready for implementation. Still, each brings us one step closer to finding a new memorialization language for the Russian\u2013Ukrainian War. Besides Kharkiv, the Memorialization Practices Lab participants developed cases for Odesa, Moshchun, and Chernihiv.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n \r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/section>\r\n\r\n\n\n\r\n

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THE CASE<\/h2>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/section>\r\n\n\n\r\n
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North Saltivka is a Kharkiv residential area that\u2019s currently 30 kilometres from the front line and a constant target for Russian air strikes. Previously one of the most densely populated parts of the city, it is now a ghost town\u2014around 70% of its buildings were damaged over the first year of hostilities alone. The attacks have never ceased since then, and the situation keeps worsening.<\/span><\/p>\n

In March 2022, a Russian aerial bomb hit a block of flats at 82 Natalia Uzhvyi Street, destroying one of its sections. The place immediately became a destination for international delegation visits and floral tributes. The locals were understandably annoyed by this: they didn\u2019t want to live in constant grief and felt the place was reduced to a dark tourism location or a political tool. They met the proposal to conserve the building as a memorial site with a decisive no\u2014the people of Saltivka preferred to nurture life and restore everything they could.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Memorialization Practices Lab expedition initially aimed to find a memorial language specifically for North Saltivka. However, its scope eventually broadened to include the entirety of Kharkiv, the city that lives on despite daily shelling.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n \r\n \r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n<\/section>\r\n\r\n\n\n\r\n

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CASE CURATOR<\/h2>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/section>\r\n\n\n\r\n
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Kateryna Semenyuk<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Curator, co-founder of the Past \/ Future \/ Art memory culture platform<\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/section>\r\n\r\n\r\n\n\n\r\n

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AUTHORS<\/h2>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/section>\r\n\n\n\r\n
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Alisa Aleksandrova<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Architect<\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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Serhii Hula<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Artist, musician, 3D-artist<\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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Diana Deryi<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Artist, Memory Lab Ukraine member<\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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Taras Kovach<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Vitalii Kokhan<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Karina Synytsia<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Anastasiia Khoroshevska<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Nazar Tserna<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Architect, Kharkiv School of Architecture student\r\n<\/p>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/section>\r\n\r\n\r\n\n\n\r\n

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Alisa Aleksandrova<\/b><\/h3>\n

A Kharkiv That We Lost<\/b>
\n<\/b>A Kharkiv That\u2019s Not a Place<\/b><\/h3>\n

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Alisa reflects on Kharkiv as a city that\u2019s being ruined. Some of its destroyed sites are more extensively featured in media and, therefore, better known, while others are not. As the losses often can\u2019t be pinpointed in time or space, local memorials dedicated to specific events quickly lose relevance, and the actual scale of destruction is unwittingly understated.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alisa proposes to set up a garden in the city\u2019s heart\u2014the ruins of the Kharkiv Oblast Council. The building was hit twice by the 2022 Russian airstrikes that also took many lives. She sees the gardens as a dynamic and inclusive form of memorialization. From Pavlo Makov\u2019s thematic artworks to city crews heroically tending to flowerbeds under daily air strikes, the theme of gardens in Kharkiv is no accident.<\/span><\/p>\n

Gardening is a therapeutic practice wherein remembering happens through caring for plants and co-creating the space. Anyone can change the landscape and make it their own, bringing a lump of earth, debris, plants, or seeds and gathering some plants for their home. The memorial will change from moment to moment as the city does.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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SERHII HULA<\/b><\/h3>\n

No Name<\/b><\/h3>\n

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Serhii\u2019s idea highlights the importance of ordinary life and living through its loss. Many Ukrainians put their lives on halt after 24 February 2022 because they felt \u201cnow\u2019s not the time\u201d. You can\u2019t turn back the time, but you still can move on.<\/span><\/p>\n

Serhii envisions a space in the Manzhosiv Ravine, into which a dance frozen in time is etched as a scheme of waltz steps, with grass gradually growing between the footprints. This waltz without dancers is a metaphor for opportunities lost: the waltz that school graduates never danced, through which the enduring life sprouts.<\/span><\/p>\n

Around the space runs a row of trimming with two pieces missing, symbolizing the \u201cflow of time\u201d broken by the war. The break erases the border between the visitor and \u201cthe waltz\u201d, inviting them to dance, walk the path of what was lost, take it in, and carry on.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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DIANA DERYI<\/b><\/h3>\n

Un)Stable Structures<\/b><\/h3>\n

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Kharkiv is full of concrete, they say. Amid this sturdiness, however, Diana sees unstable structures that hold their shape and form the systems, supports, connections, and communities, retaining their time variation and structure despite external intervention. Through the objects she creates, the artist conveys her impressions from the expedition to Kharkiv. The war has changed the usual perception of things: what seemed unbreakable has turned out to be so vulnerable. \u201cPreviously, I might have called this flexibility, but now it feels like instability\u201d, Diana comments.<\/span><\/p>\n

One object has an outline reminiscent of panel houses shifted because of collapse. The other is a rooted young tree reinforced by wire that follows its outline and attaches to a water bowl. These objects are not mere models for more monumental forms. They are like that by design: delicate structures conveying the fragility of the order of things. Any push puts them into motion and makes them shake, yet they always return to their initial (un)stable state.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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TARAS KOVACH<\/b><\/h3>\n

No Name<\/b><\/h3>\n

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It\u2019s usual for teenagers to use public spaces and objects (e.g., squares, Soviet-era monuments, museums, and community centres) to gather, go skateboarding, and learn new tricks. It\u2019s a peculiar phenomenon commemoration-wise because historical context loses its sacred aspect in the eyes of youth, and old public spaces gradually gain new meaning. New personal experiences and contexts are being shaped in these spaces, with granite being the only Soviet thing left about them.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Russian-Ukrainian War has deprived Kharkiv youth of many emotions and experiences: it\u2019s dangerous to hold any festivals, raves, or concerts, and many families have left, losing their connections to friends and the cultural space. Taras proposes to convert the space in front of the Mykola Lysenko Kharkiv National Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre, where local skaters gather even during the war, into a full-fledged skatepark\u2014a place of freedom, youth, unity, and all-conquering joy of life.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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VITALII KOKHAN<\/b><\/h3>\n

Memorialization Through Street Art<\/b><\/h3>\n

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Street art, especially its text-heavy variety, is typical of Kharkiv, Vitalii points out. One way of writing on the walls in the city is by breaking tiles off the wall panels, which reminded the author about drawing in quad-ruled notebooks and the patterns present in Ukrainian embroidery.<\/span><\/p>\n

The desolate streets of Saltivka have hundreds of personal stories to tell, and the silent fa\u00e7ades of damaged buildings would make an excellent canvas for temporary memorials. The author envisions this space brought to life by using text as usual in the city\u2014with mischievous, informative, and upbeat messages. Avoiding pretentiousness and stereotypical symbols, like sunflowers, is crucial to preserving the street art style.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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KARINA SYNYTSIA<\/b><\/h3>\n

Restoration and Remembrance Memorial<\/b><\/h3>\n

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\u201cForest is like an ear, like the eyes that have seen much and have been through a lot. And if you care for it long enough, you can see an act of commemoration in this process. It lets us do away with the narratives and concepts that have long been prevalent in our land, especially nature-wise\u201d, the artist explains the idea behind her <\/span>video essay<\/span><\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n

The pine forest in Kharkiv\u2019s Zhuravliv Hydropark succumbed to disease and began withering in 2022\u2014its old problems were aggravated by the war. The artificial forest planted in the Soviet time was doomed to its fate right from the start. Together with ecologists, Karina Synytsia envisions converting this forest into a living memorial to commemorate the resilience of nature and people during the Russian-Ukrainian War. Here, commemoration involves transforming the forest from a typical cultivated monoculture forest littered with the remains of military fortifications into a living space developing as a symbol of restoration and perpetual interaction between people and nature.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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ANASTASIIA KHOROSHEVSKA<\/b><\/h3>\n

Please Talk<\/b><\/h3>\n

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Anastasiia analyses grief as a process, emphasizing that \u201cwe are all alone in our grief\u201d. The artist envisions a safe space created to help people live through personal loss and traumatic experiences. The project\u2019s foundation is a simple shelter built in a green zone between the blocks of flats, complete with a folding privacy partition and a landline phone.<\/span><\/p>\n

A concrete booth with a working landline phone will stand at each of the two exits from the shelter. All these shelters can be used for interactions, like having conversations with random people on the phone, thinking aloud about the most problematic things, or communing with the dead while pretending to have a phone call.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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NAZAR TSERNA<\/b><\/h3>\n

Manzhosiv Ravine Spring<\/b><\/h3>\n

 <\/p>\n

Nazar reflects on a memorial as the past fighting with the future. In his version of the future, he wants people to have an easier time living through the changes and, crucially, ingrain new, meaningful everyday habits in themselves.<\/span><\/p>\n

The architect proposes to update the Manzhosiv Ravine Spring building in Saltivka, replacing a brick structure with three pipes at the base with a block with three wells of different depths. The variation in distance to the water imparts a ritualistic aspect. Some would say the water in the deeper well tastes the best, and others would pick randomly. Yet others would hardly notice any difference at all. Nazar feels it lets one make peace with the unknown and put more faith in the world.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n \r\n

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MILESTONES<\/h2>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/section>\r\n\n\n\r\n
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Mid-March\u2013May 2024<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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The Lab\u2019s learning section<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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April 2024<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Selection of the participants for the Lab\u2019s hands-on practice section<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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12\u201314 May 2024<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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A research expedition to Kharkiv<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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1 June\u201310 July 2024<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Development of ideas, discussions with the curator, follow-up revision<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n

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20 July 2024<\/h4>\r\n <\/div>\r\n
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Presentation of project ideas<\/span><\/p>\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/div>\r\n <\/section>\r\n\n\n\r\n

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