There is a legend about pysanky (Ukrainian Easter eggs): So long as people are writing pysanky, then good will vanquish evil in the world.
This is a particularly good time to revive the ancient art form that for decades was banned under the Soviet government. And thousands of us are actively writing pysanky this season.
April 1 was Pysanky For Ukraine Day, the 10th and biggest year of the event sponsored by a Canadian business that sells supplies for making them.
A 12-hour Zoom session was a feature of the day, with nearly 400 people in the U.S. and a few other countries logged in.
A special treat included in the Zoom session was two hours of conversations with pysanka artists in all parts of Ukraine. At one location there, 300 people had gathered to write pysanky. Each master artist proudly showed us some of their favorite pysanky as well as their workspace – often a tiny table in a small apartment or home. One of the most famous pysanka artist in Ukraine, with a large panel of his work at the national pysanka museum in Kolyma, is on the front line, protecting Ukraine from its aggressor-neighbor; he spoke to us in full uniform (in Ukrainian, through an interpreter) about the importance of continuing the art of pysanky, and thanking us all for this very profound show of support for Ukraine and its people. He was very moved by the level of participation here in the U.S.
Several participants in the Zoom call hosted classes, or friends and family to write pysanky all day. One by one, they shared their group, and showed off what they were working on. The day included all levels, from first-timers to world-class, -museum-level artists. And everyone was happy to share their tips and “secrets.”
I did my part, here at home, alone in my kitchen – and loving it. I spent two days mixing up new dyes; they keep for years, but it was time for new ones. Then I spent most of Friday preparing a flat of eggs for work on Saturday: carefully selected each one, cleaned it with vinegar, and plotted out (in light pencil lines) various designs to be written in melted beeswax the next day. It was time-consuming and yet also exciting.
Saturday morning came, and I was ready. I plugged in my phone and logged into the Zoom call. I plugged in my new electric writing tools, and got some breakfast while they heated up. Then the fun began: I started waxing in the designs I had planned out the day before. I had several eggs waxed in the natural state (white or brown) before I dyed them at the same time that afternoon. Bit by bit, visible progress was continuous throughout the day. By the end of the day, I had six completed eggs, ready to melt the wax off. (Two others are in a “time out” since the final dye didn’t “take” well, and I’ll follow Plan B for them.)
The real magic is melting off the wax. As you work on a pysanka, you are covering colors with darkened wax. The end product is usually a dark egg with dark wax on it. Melting off the wax reveals all the bright colors underneath. It never fails to inspire awe, even after decades of doing it.
Traditionally, each household would make about 40 pysanky during Lent each year. The pysanky would be given to friends and family, placed in corners of the home, buried in the garden, and even placed on graves – all depending on the design, and the intention of the artist.
Why pysanky, why now?
As the world approached the one-year anniversary of last year’s brutal invasion of Ukraine by Russia, I felt in my heart that this was the year to return to this beloved art form. It takes time, and dedicated space, to work on them, and I have not made it a priority for a long time. It also requires a clear and calm mind. (Insert your own comment here.)
Several months ago, when I heard the legend about good overcoming evil simply by the writing of pysanky, something clicked. I saw the invitation (published in the Tri-County News) by the Central Minnesota Arts Board for artists at all levels to apply for a grant to advance their art forms, and I believed that was more than coincidence. So I applied.
Part of the application was photos of recent work; nothing older than five years ago. So I couldn’t use photos of any of the eggs in the photo on page 1, or the big box of others that aren’t pictured. I had to make some new ones. I couldn’t find my old dyes, or most of my tools and supplies. But I had candles, beeswax, and some older tools to write the wax. So I spent a weekend making five eggs to submit with my application. I took photos of the finished eggs, but I also took photos as I worked on them, so the judges could better understand the process. The application was pretty simple and straightforward, and all online. Off it went, and then I waited two months.
I was notified by email: I had been accepted, one of seven artists in the four-county area, for a 2023 grant.
Writing pysanky is a rather frugal art form. The raw materials are fairly common and inexpensive (as compared to many art forms): eggs, beeswax, candles. The grant has allowed me to purchase additional supplies, and new books with new designs to try. I have already tried a new method (acid etching instead of dyeing). there are so many more things to achieve.
I want to do all the eggs. I want to create designs like I could 30 years ago, but I must be patient as my eyes and hands learn to coordinate again to make them.
I want to make lots of them, and quickly. But “quick” is not in the vocabulary of pysanka artists. So I’m learning to be deliberate, to let the design come to me, and let each egg determine what it will become – forcing any of these does not end well, trust me.
I also want to share the love of pysanky – both to teach others to make them, and to sell what I have (with proceeds going to help Ukrainian refugees). As my health and schedule allow, I can be available for workshops. I have supplies for up to 20. When I taught classes 30 years ago, it took 5-6 hours and I charged a lot; there are ways to shorten the time some, and I will happily accept donations toward aid to displaced Ukrainians (in lieu of class fees).
The more of us writing pysanky, the greater the victory of good over evil.
This award was made possible through a grant from the Central Minnesota Arts Board, thanks to funds provided by the McKnight Foundation.
