ONE YEAR AFTER: Residents of Kyiv, the capital of Ukraine, reflect on Orange Revolution


by Yana Sedova
Kyiv Press Bureau

"One Year After" is a four-part series examining the lives of Ukrainians one year after the Orange Revolution. The third part features Yevhen Nyshchuk, 34, a Kyiv resident, husband and parent of one son.

PART III

KYIV - Yevhen Nyshchuk felt terrified those few days after the first round of voting during last year's presidential elections, when the Central Election Commission (CEC) had awarded Viktor Yanukovych far more votes than Viktor Yushchenko.

"I went into this panic," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "And it wasn't only me."

That moment, the professional actor began thinking about whether he would be able to continue his career in the theaters of Ukraine, especially after having worked for the Yushchenko campaign as an event and concert organizer.

"At that point, we thought (the elections) will certainly be falsified," he said. "Everyone was convinced of this. But then came the thought: Will the people rise up or not?"

Even then, Mr. Nyshchuk had no idea that he would eventually be on stage at the very heart of Ukraine - Independence Square - and become the irreplaceable emcee encouraging millions of Ukrainians to brave the bitter winter cold and persist in carrying out the historic Orange Revolution.

From its start on November 22, 2004, through December 27, 2004, the day the Supreme Court declared Mr. Yushchenko Ukraine's president, Mr. Nyshchuk virtually lived on the maidan's stage.

As the Revolution's main disc jockey, he introduced the politicians who delivered inspiring speeches, as well as musicians who energized the demonstrators.

In between the speeches and songs, he calmed a tense crowd that was often in fear for what their own government might do against them.

The Revolution convinced him that Ukraine had finally identified itself as an independent country, a notion he felt had not fully developed until then.

As an actor, however, he felt that the revolution was only a small step in changing what is a poorly supported and sparsely-financed arts scene in Kyiv, particularly with regard to film and theater.

The role Mr. Nyshchuk had played at the revolutionary stage brought him popularity among common people, but did little to help him as a film and theater actor.

At present Mr. Nyshchuk survives mostly due to hosting concerts and festivals throughout Ukraine.

Creative Agency

Art Veles became the single event management company that took on the task of organizing Mr. Yushchenko's campaign during the 2002 parliamentary elections.

Art Veles alone was responsible for his 2004 presidential campaign, and it is now organizing the meetings and forums for Our Ukraine People's Union in the run up to the 2006 parliamentary elections.

From its very start 10 years ago, the event management and public relations firm was a pro-Ukrainian project that helped launch arts festivals and concerts that were non-commercial.

The agency's small team of about 10 professionals, which Mr. Nyshchuk has worked with for many years, became the moving force that has tried to draw attention to Ukrainian culture.

Art Veles director Taras Hrymalyuk, who coordinated the Orange Revolution's one-year anniversary events, believes that Ukrainian culture today simply lacks boldness, professional management and strong financing.

The agency began with a few musical festivals, among them, the annual festival "Kyivska Rus'," which traces the evolution of Ukrainian music evolved through the epochs of history.

The last festival, celebrating Ukraine's various folk traditions, took place on December 15, 2005, at the Taras Shevchenko National Opera Theater of Ukraine in Kyiv.

"Nationally conscious people have joined up here [at Art Veles] to be passionate about what's happening in Ukraine and in Ukrainian culture," said Serhii Kharynovych, who began working with Art Veles as a concert host; he also oversees advertisements and public relations issues.

Unlike Mr. Nyshchuk, Mr. Kharynovych has a skeptical view of the team that won the presidential elections. He asserts that if someone else had campaigned instead of Mr. Yushchenko, but with the same election agenda, Ukrainians would have supported that candidate all the same.

"Yushchenko is not a rock star for whom everyone went to the edge for," Mr. Kharynovych said. "The people who came out on the maidan demonstrated their attitude to the nation and just how many Ukrainians wanted to see Ukraine as Ukraine, as opposed to how many wanted to see it as an appendage of Russia."

Ukrainians should not be blamed for their attitude to their native country because during many decades they were taught to believe that Ukraine could not exist without Russia, Mr. Kharynovych said.

It is the nation itself that is supposed to teach its citizens to love their own country, but such a program does not exist today, he said.

"There are people who are responsible for culture, radio and television," Mr. Kharynovych said. "But the question is just what are they doing? I don't see any changes."

When an order was issued early in the government of former Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko requiring everyone to speak Ukrainian on the radio, quite a number of Mr. Kharynovych's disc jockey colleagues quickly began learning Ukrainian because they did not want to lose their jobs.

None of them complained or went out on the streets to protest, Mr. Kharynovych said.

However, the sudden rush of patriotism soon began to evaporate.

Initiatives aimed at supporting the Ukrainian language in the nation's media eventually became reduced to mere recommendations after the Tymoshenko Cabinet was fired. Among those who were fired was Mykola Tomenko, the vice prime minister for humanitarian affairs who authored the radio initiative.

Following the revolution, radio stations began playing more Ukrainian music and television networks showed more Ukrainian programs. But that also began to lose momentum.

"In Ukraine, no one supports the Ukrainian language on the government level," Mr. Kharynovych said. "Tartak has done more for Ukrainian propaganda than several ministers put together."

Ukrainian ghetto in Ukraine

Quite a number of musicians campaigned for this or another candidate in the 2004 parliamentary elections.

Tayisa Povalii, Natalka Mohylevska and even several Russian singers campaigned for Mr. Yanukovych.

It was the Ukrainian-language artists who supported Mr. Yushchenko, most of whom are rock musicians.

"If representatives of another culture arrived to support the [opposing candidate], then others who supported Viktor Yushchenko tried to ensure live music that is rock, [Ukrainian] folk and authentic," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "It was part of the election campaign, and it was heard on the maidan. People began to love Ukrainian performers and Ukrainian music."

Singers such as Sviatoslav Vakarchuk are able to make Ukraine fashionable, Mr. Kharynovych said.

"[Young people] see that he sings in Ukrainian, speaks Ukrainian and they see that it's cool," Mr. Kharynovych said.

"Ukrainians in Ukraine are like a national minority," he said. "There's even a specific group of people that attend our festivals. To me, it looks almost like a Ukrainian ghetto. Of course it's strange - a Ukrainian ghetto in Ukraine."

Ukraine currently has no pro-Ukrainian forces, Mr. Kharynovych said. However he is convinced that had the Kuchma regime remained in power, life would have been much worse.

The new government has not taken advantage of the opportunity to solidify the idea of a Ukrainian identity, Mr. Nyshchuk said.

There are not enough laws to defend Ukrainian singers on the airwaves and the concert scene, he said. Russian performers continue to perform in Ukraine and earn impressive money, he said.

"Singers like Taras Petrynenko and Maria Burmaka can't even dream to perform a solo concert in Kyiv's Ukraina Palace," Mr. Nyshchuk said.

The rental fee for Ukraina Palace is between $10,000-$11,000 per day.

Its administrators do not recall a single solo concert by a Ukrainian singer in Ukraine's most prestigious concert hall. Instead, Russian singers such as Filip Kirkorov perform there at least once a year.

The situation with Ukrainian cinematography is even worse. Mostly second-rate television series are filmed at Kyiv's Dovzhenko film studio. The studio is among the leading studios in the former Soviet Union.

Only during his first- and second-year at the Karpenko Karyi Institute of Theater in Kyiv was Mr. Nyshchuk able to act in two films - Volodymyr Savelyev's "Izhoi" and Mykhailo Illyenko's "Fuchzhou."

These were the last years before the collapse of Ukrainian cinematography.

Two film projects that invited Mr. Nyshchuk to act this year were not even launched because of a lack of financing.

Sometimes Ukrainian actors get invitations to star in a Russian production, but these, at best, are merely secondary roles.

"All the main heroes are Russian," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "But the back-up roles - policemen, guards - for these they turn to our actors. And some, unfortunately, agree because they have to feed their families. This is a sad state of affairs."

Mr. Nyshchuk is sure that the rebirth of national cinematography could become a means of influence on Ukrainian society and could help form its values.

"Ideological films should exist," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "For example, about a Ukrainian doctor, who suddenly doesn't take any bribes. At one point, ideological films were an entire science."

A Jobless Actor

Fifteen years ago, Mr. Nyshchuk passed the first round of exams at the Shchepkinskyi School of Theater in Moscow, which for many decades has enjoyed a prestigious reputation as one of the former Soviet Union's best drama schools.

Faced with the decision to pursue a second round of exams, Mr. Nyshchuk instead decided to remain in Ukraine and study at the Karpenko Karyi Institute of Theater in Kyiv.

His parents preferred that he study in Ukraine instead of testing his fate in what was suddenly a foreign country.

After completing the Karpenko Karyi Institute in 1995, several theaters throughout Ukraine wanted Mr. Nyshchuk to join them.

Despite offers of not only a job but also an apartment - a rather lucrative proposition in the mid-1990s - he turned them down so that he could stay in Kyiv.

"I had already felt that there was a huge barrier between Kyiv and other cities in Ukraine," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "Those five years were difficult times. Nobody had any use for the theater."

Actors in those days received very small salaries. Some simply were not paid, similarly to teachers, miners and doctors.

Prospective film projects and theatrical plays, and the opportunities they presented, became the exception rather than the norm for Mr. Nyshchuk.

The first Ukrainian television network was established in the mid-1990s. The network bought foreign films and dubbed them in Ukrainian for rebroadcasting.

Ads began to appear that read, "Television network seeking people who are proficient in Ukrainian."

"From a certain point of view, this is fine," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "But imagine a country, for example, France, where companies are seeking people who speak French well."

Dubbing films not only required a perfect command of Ukrainian, but also the skill of reading texts without preparation.

For Mr. Nyshchuk, who was born and raised in Ivano-Frankivsk, this work brought him only satisfaction.

"Many say that this is side work," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "I don't agree. If a person approaches everything as if it were side work, then you won't be asked to return. I don't look at things this way. Maybe that's the reason I'm always offered this work."

Ironically, Mr. Nyshchuk has less work at the moment given his reputation as the emcee of the Orange Revolution. He often refers to himself as a jobless actor.

"I've practically turned down all commercials, though there were quite a lot of offers," he said. "On the other hand, there are festivals, concerts, Independence Day events and important state holidays which I'm entrusted with. That's pleasant and it also gives me some financial reward."

At present Mr. Nyshchuk provides for his family - his wife Oksana Batko and their 11-year-old son Oleksa - by emceeing concerts.

"In the theater, it's impossible to survive on any given salary," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "If there was a cinema industry in Ukraine, I could provide for my family by acting in films."

As a film actor, he could afford a prestigious school for his son with a monthly salary between $150-$500. However, he chose a state financed secondary school that is free for students.

Children at private schools have wealthy parents and they usually come to school by car and wear expensive clothing. Their interests differ from those of children who do not attend such schools.

"They live in a very specific world, have other values and needs and have to meet the requirements of their teenager's circle," Mr. Nyshchuk said. "And what if something happens and parents cannot afford this expensive school? How will this child adapt to another life?"

Mr. Nyshchuk is trying to bring Oleksa up in a very democratic way and he says his son, just like thousands of other little Ukrainians, prefers to go to the cinema or McDonalds, and is quite happy with that.

Theater Life

Other than dubbing films and emceeing concerts and festivals, Mr. Nyshchuk plays the Russian poet Sergey Yesenin in "Mne tesno v imeni svoyom," a twice-monthly play performed at Kyiv's Suzirya Theater.

He receives $14 for one performance, whereas hosting a concert will earn him about $300, while dubbing a film brings in $50.

Despite the low pay, it is the theater that inspires Mr. Nyshchuk and gives him strength for new creative projects.

"Our life is hard and our culture has a pale glimmer," he said. "On the other hand, when everything is fine in society, this is bad for culture, because artists and writers can't create. But now there is precedent for creative work - there are many strong emotions like dreaminess, hope and hatred. And these emotions will help us to fulfill our dreams in reality."

Mr. Nyshchuk wants to play Ivan in a theatrical production of "Tini zabutykh predkiv" ("Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors"), based on the novel written by Mykhailo Kotziubynskyi. He will submit an application to the Ivan Franko Theater in Kyiv.

"We have so many creative people, but our literature, cinema and the theater are still in ruins, " Mr. Nyshchuk said. "Our people miss Ukrainian-style pictures. Ukrainian plays like Natalka Poltavka are always sold out.

Larissa Troyanovska, who plays opposite Mr. Nyshchuk as Sergey Yesenin's love Isadora Duncan, has worked for 15 years in the Theater on the Podil and believes that Kyiv's theaters are in terrible shape.

Actors and actresses earn meager salaries despite the January pay increase from the government, she said.

Like Mr. Nyshchuk, Ms. Troyanovska often dubs films and hosts children's festivals. She enjoys her work, but if she had a choice she would rather play a role in a new play.

"We don't have money, but we put on performances anyway; we do it for our audiences and to keep the doors to the theater open," Ms. Troyanovska said.

She said there is no legislation supporting patronage of the arts.

"The theater always was a prerogative for the government and theater patrons," Ms. Troyanovska said. "Today the government simply can't conceive that people can give their lives for culture."

Tetyana Ivashchenko, the author of the play "Mne tesno v imeni svoyom," concurs.

The Kyiv government does not want to open new theaters because of a lack of funding in the city budget, she said. Additionally, Kyiv Mayor Oleksander Omelchenko said recently that there are enough theaters already.

Ms. Ivashchenko, who spent eight years writing plays for Ukrainian theaters, said she knows many people who can provide support for new performances, and even entire theaters.

"But what do they gain from that?" Ms. Ivashchenko asked. Patronage of the arts is not tax exempt. "It's not beneficial. Money is needed for the theater, and patrons are needed. Without that, the theater won't survive."

For many of Ms. Ivashchenko's acquaintances, a $6 ticket for a performance in "Suziria" is too expensive, even if it is a reasonable price for Kyiv.

Sometimes Ms. Ivashchenko buys tickets with her own money and gives them out to acquaintances so that they can come and watch performances.

"They say that they want to come to the theater and see something awesome, something that inspires, and then it's possible to go on living," she said. "It's very important for me that people have the opportunity to go to the theater."

Russian poet-rebel on the Orange Revolution's stage

As a result of Mr. Nyshchuk being on the maidan for the duration of the Orange Revolution, two performances of Suzira were canceled. The theatre's administrators understood.

"We told the audience that our Yesenin is on the maidan at the moment," Ms. Ivashchenko said. "The audience didn't complain, and no one returned a ticket."

She noticed that that year, as never before, people have began to treat each other with respect and tolerance.

"Everyone felt so close, even dear," Ms. Ivashchenko said. "We all hoped for a better life, not in a material sense, but simply to do good to one another."

With sadness, she said all her peers are disappointed with the behavior of politicians. They hoped their unity would bring great results.

"We are such nice people," she said. "But when we get together and start to argue, we divide the bulava [hetman's mace] and wrangle over who is hetman."

The people's uprising last year has not changed the face of politics, she said, but people have changed, particularly the youth.

Young people are starting to speak Ukrainian more, and those who speak Russian say, "We're Ukrainian."

"That was not the case earlier in Ukraine," Ms. Ivashchenko said. "It was not prestigious to speak or consider oneself Ukrainian."

She believes that last year's events influenced the nation's spirituality. Even if people have no trust in politicians, they at least want Ukraine to become a truly independent nation.

"No one wants to hear about joining Russia," Ms. Ivashchenko said. "Earlier, people would say we needed to submit to Russia. What's there in that kind of Ukraine? No order, no culture. But now they say, 'No, we're going to build our own country.'"

What is really important is the feeling of freedom and one's own identity, a readiness to defend one's own position and the absence of fear for one's own life, Mr. Nyshchuk said.

The Orange Revolution's main achievement was that Ukraine finally appeared on the map of Europe, he said.


PART I

PART II

PART III

PART IV


Copyright © The Ukrainian Weekly, January 1, 2006, No. 1, Vol. LXXIV


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