Tartu 2024 Feature: Tartu's Ukrainians and the Kaleidoscope of Emotions

In case you hadn't heard, 2024 is a big deal in Tartu. This year, Estonia's "City of Good Thoughts" is one of three European Capitals of Culture. But in challenging times like these, what does "arts of survival," the artistic concept underpinning this celebration of all things South Estonia really mean? In the fourth feature of this series, Michael Cole found out more about ways Tartu's Ukrainian community is coping with what often feels like two parallel realities at the same time.
"Ukrainians can be afraid to share their feelings," says Yurii Kondratyk. "Because we feel that they don't match the mood of other people, [our feelings] remain incomprehensible, or spoil the mood." Often, he explains, "expressing joy and happiness is also shameful for Ukrainians – how can they be [positive] when the country is still at war? There are so many of these difficult, complex and conflicting feelings."
Originally from Rivne in the west of Ukraine, Yurii has just completed a master's degree at the University of Tartu. Alongside his studies, he's also been volunteering as a project manager for the Tartu-based NGO "Ukraina Maja" ("Ukraine House" in English). Since Russia's full-scale invasion of Yurii's homeland, Ukraina Maja has become "a hub, a special place for Ukrainians in Tartu." They come to "share their joys, express grief, volunteer, and engage in different activities," he explains when we meet for coffee on a dark and snowy Sunday in February.
Underpinning everything Ukraina Maja does are two main goals. The first, is to support the local Ukrainian community as they strive to create new lives for themselves in Tartu. The second, to continue building metaphorical bridges between Ukraine and Estonia. To achieve both, culture plays a central role.

Whether it's putting on traditional "Pysanky" egg painting workshops at Orthodox Easter, teaching participants how to make "Vinok" wreaths during Ivana Kupala, Ukrainian Midsummer, or simply gathering to celebrate Ukrainian Independence Day, over the past two and a half years, Ukraina Maja has held events on all the most important dates in the Ukrainian cultural calendar.
It's no surprise then, that in 2024, as the spotlight falls on Tartu during its year as European Capital of Culture, Ukraina Maja is also involved. With the project "Kaleidoscope Emotions" they've found a way to not only keep culture at the forefront but also address some of the most pressing issues facing the city's Ukrainian community today – those related to their mental health.
And that's why I'm sat talking to Yurii about feelings on a dark and snowy afternoon in February at Tartu's Werner Café.
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The aim of "Kaleidoscope of Emotions," is "to discover, collect and introduce the feelings and true stories of the Ukrainians in Tartu and South Estonia," Yurii tells me. The plan had always been to create an art object that represented those stories and feelings to make them "humanely, sensitively, and artistically visible in the city." After much thought, the idea they eventually settled on was, perhaps inevitably, also closely tied to the war going on back home.
Since Russia's full-scale invasion began in February 2022, "volunteers in Ukraine and Estonia have been making camouflage nets to protect Ukrainian defenders from the eyes of the enemy and help them defend Ukraine," he explains. Naturally, the material used for those nets has to be chosen carefully, as do the colors, to ensure they are as effective as possible on the battlefield.
"Our project is also about creating a net," Yurii says. However, the one they've put together is a little different – the brightly-colored fabric it's made from would be no use on the frontline for a start. But as Yurii tells me, there's a clear reason behind that choice.
"They [the colors] correspond to our feelings," he says. "While physically making the net, we aimed to spark a dialogue about how we actually feel mentally and how we can express and embrace complex emotions and feelings. We always asked people to think about why they wanted [to use] a specific color — be it red, green, or any other color. This initiates a process of reflection on the significance of their choice."

Not that it was always easy to concentrate on such deep conversations while weaving a brightly colored net together. "As we got into the project, we realized that it's sometimes really hard to share things and talk with someone while you are also doing something else," Yurii says. So, they decided to break the sessions up a bit.
"In the first part, people came (to Ukraina Maja - ed.), and we had a specific topic to discuss, like anxiety, for example. We sat in a circle and started sharing things about the topic, expressing how we feel about certain things."
However, just as often, the people who turned up had something even more immediate going on in their lives that they just wanted to get off their chest. "They might say something like 'I have parents in occupation right now, and we have very different views on what's going on. Maybe they support another side, and I don't. What can I do?'" Yurii tells me.
After those hard discussions, the participants took time out to focus on creating the net, adding more pieces of colored material if they wished, to show how they were feeling. It was often challenging to listen to some of the things people were dealing with, Yurii admits. "But when these moments of sincerity arise, and people offer advice or simply listen," he says, "that's what's really valuable."
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Five months after my conversation with Yurii on that dark and snowy day in February, we meet again. This time we're on Tartu's Car-Free Avenue and the net created during the "Kaleidoscope of Emotions" project is about to be presented to the public. It's July now and the sun is almost as bright the red T-shirt Yurii is wearing with the defiant slogan "I am Ukraine. I love Freedom" written across the front.

The net itself is introduced by Kherson-born artist Viktoria Berezina, who also curated the artistic component of the project. In 2022 Viktoria's own story of escaping from her Russian-occupied hometown struck a chord in Estonia when messages she'd exchanged with Tartu-based artist Raul Oreškin were published in the national media. Many were later read out and played on a loop in front of the Russian Embassy in Tallinn in protest against the war in Ukraine.
"The first part [of the net] shows the realities that are happening in Ukraine," Viktoria tells the crowd who have gathered for the unveiling. "This is what we went through and what we will carry for the rest of our lives. Very difficult emotions and memories that cannot be erased."
The second part, she continues, represents "our pleasant and easy feelings about coming and meeting South Estonia and the beautiful city of Tartu."
And there's a third section too, showing "the mixed emotions in which we now exist, about how we live in two parallel realities at the same time. We were there during the war and now we are here in safety," Viktoria explains. "These are the two incompatible worlds that we are trying to bring together."
"It's quite difficult for me to stand here actually," admits Jaan Ulst, Tartu 2024's humanity program line manager, who is handed the microphone after Viktoria. "How do we celebrate a new art piece when its roots are in ongoing war?" he asks. "But then I started to think about how culture always finds a way," Ulst continues.
"It's like a river, you can't stop it. It always finds a way."

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If the many conversations I've had about the topic have taught me anything, it's that there's no right or wrong way to understand the artistic concept behind Tartu's year as European Capital of Culture. However, if "arts of survival" were to have some kind of true meaning, few would be better positioned to articulate it than members of the city's Ukrainian community. And simply listening seems like as good a way as any to begin trying to understand it.
"I don't know if there could be any other topic that would be more relevant," Yurii tells me when I ask what "arts of survival" means to him. "You cannot fully grasp the threat or the potential of war until it happens. It's incomprehensible; you cannot just grasp it until it unfolds," he says. "But sometimes, you can communicate to people what it actually means."
"Estonians are very supportive of Ukraine; I still feel the support. I can see it in people still making camouflage nets, volunteering, and helping Ukraine. Our project is just a creative way to remind people about the war and show what Ukrainians really feel."
"The net part of the project is more symbolic," Yurii told me back in February, and it's a point he reiterates when we chat again in July. "We've created an art object," he says, "but the real value lies in getting together, talking, and being heard."

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More information about "Kaleidoscope of Emotions" and Ukraina Maja's other projects can be found here and here.
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Editor: Helen Wright