“It must go on...”

 

The expansion of the war to the whole of Ukraine has brought unimaginable suffering to the people in a very short time. Moreover, cultural professionals are in particular danger, as the invaders know how powerful the arts and culture are as reflective pillars and stimuli for free societies and that is precisely where they are attacking. The refugee movements alone are tearing many actors away from their work, putting projects on hold or destroying the infrastructure for their further development. The consequences are incalculable. 

 

Against this background, we might ask whether the work of the last few years was in vain. If you speak with cultural professionals on the ground, you encounter distinct positions: "Now more than ever.” "The current situation confirms how important the last few years have been.” "It must go on.” "After a short ‘break,’ we’ll get back on track.” 

 

As authors of this essay, we would like to emphasise that we are not interested in quick analyses, as they can now be read and heard everywhere. The principle of listening, of making the voices on the ground audible are particularly important to us (we won’t mention any names here, however, in order to protect the people on site). 

 

Of course, the first priority is the protection of life and limb. Many cultural professionals currently have to seek refuge in other regions. NGOs such as the youth organisation STAN in Ivano-Frankivsk are acting as shelters for cultural professionals who have been forced to leave their homes. The country’s theatres and opera houses from Chernihiv to Odessa are functioning as places to provide food and first aid, but also making their infrastructure and manpower available to the Ukrainian army. Museums, such as the sports museum in Zaporizhzhya, are being converted into bunkers. 

 

Overall, we are observing overwhelming solidarity, cohesion and willingness to help in Ukrainian society, supported by a strong collective cultural identity. 

 

Cultural identity is literally existential here. People know that this is also an attack on their language, their views and values. Russian President Vladimir Putin referred to language and history several times in his speech shortly before the war began. That which is new, different, cosmopolitan, the desire for a culture that can be part of international discourses, seems to be a particular thorn in his side. The great propagandist narrative of the alleged contradiction between East and West, between Europe and a pan-Slavic cultural space, is focused in Ukraine like in a burning glass. In our experience working with Ukrainian cultural professionals, diversity and openness to exchange and encounter without blinkers and preconditions were almost always present and a central value reference. 

 

 

In the midst of this crisis, a problem becomes apparent that can be observed above all in Western societies, especially in Germany: Tangible knowledge about contemporary artistic and thus also (cultural) policy developments in eastern and south-eastern Europe is still "specialised knowledge” and thus scarce. The same often applies to basic knowledge about geography, history and everyday culture east and southeast of Germany’s borders. 

 

Although Ukrainian authors and literary works have been translated into German in large numbers, and many foundations and institutions, such as the Goethe-Institut, have launched exchange and transformation projects, discourses from Ukraine and countries such as Poland, Belarus, etc. are not frequently heard in educational discourse, not to mention in textbooks, talk shows and cultural programmes. When it is reported, it is problematised. Those obvious associations that many other countries and cultures trigger in the cultural memory in this country still seem to be stuck somewhere behind the mouldered Iron Curtain. 

 

The fact that some of the most important Yiddish authors of the twentieth and nineteenth centuries worked in Kyiv, that Michael Bulgakov lived there (whose house could possibly also fall victim to the bombs), that many important museum concepts have emerged in Kyiv since 2014 (how to save cultural assets from the Donbass, etc.) indicates that an intellectual Europe is under attack. But what resonance do these dimensions have within us? How distant, foreign and exotic is this terrain that is now in the glare of the world spotlight? 

 

Our consternation must not only be political. Attention wears out quickly in the modern media age, as we all know. A long war, such as the one the British Foreign Secretary sees coming, also means, in the worst case, suffering becoming commonplace. But cultural interventions can make it clear from the start that they are broadcasting different images and words than BBC, CNN, Deutsche Welle or social media platforms. They give a voice to that which resists habitual images. And they promote exchange, which in the best case is visible. 

 

There are plenty of good examples of how this can succeed, such as Damascus in Exile, a pop-up space by the Goethe-Institut that brought the institute, which had been closed due to the Syrian war, back to life in 2016. Within a month, discussions, workshops, film series, installations, exhibitions, concerts and performances took place. Such a place could also be created for Ukrainian artists and cultural professionals who are already in Germany or are expected to arrive here soon. 

 

Ukrainian art and culture in general ought to be made (more) visible, both digitally and analogue. In Germany, too, places need to be created or opened so that this diversity can be experienced. In addition to presentation, mediation and exchange, it is simply a matter of (temporary) preservation until this rich cultural life is possible again in Ukraine itself. Otherwise, there is an immediate danger that cultural assets will be destroyed and extinguished. And for a very long time. The experience with the war in Syria in 2015 has unfortunately shown that public interest quickly dies out after the initial hype. But cultural exchange needs staying power. It needs places that bring people and ideas together even after the international media have moved on. 

 

It is therefore now a matter of providing places for the practice of art (rehearsal rooms, studios) when cultural professionals have to flee to Germany - as well as digital spaces and platforms that enable permanent exchange and reflection as well as assessment of the current situation on the ground. The emergency aid announced by the Federal Government Commissioner for Culture and the Media is also a good sign - hopefully many municipalities and states will follow suit with funding, but also with concrete offers of participation on the ground. Once again, however, we will have to be careful not to think in terms of pure project logic. Talks, coming to terms with what has happened, what is now happening with the suddenly broken connections, need time and patience. Therefore, we advocate here for investment in formats like Damascus in Exile to create a Kyiv in Exile. 

 

Being disconnected from one’s former place of activity is dramatic. In our experience, only places that take up something of what has been lost, that can be visited, that form a point of contact, can lead to proper visibility. In such places, people from Germany can also acquire information, can experience proximity, language, music, poetry, performances, books and films that can give us a deeper insight into what is happening on a daily basis. This conflict, it seems, will leave deep scars on the European cultural landscape. Culture needs time and patience to attend to, understand and reflect on such processes. This is what we should have learned from 2015: We need to conduct in-depth discourses instead of following the dictates of day-to-day politics. It is possible that cultural policy in Germany can also open a new chapter here. 

 

 

We deliberately put the word "outlook” in inverted commas. So far, nothing substantial can be said here, as no one can seriously predict the developments of the coming weeks, months and years. But the fact is that a great many people, including many cultural professionals, will come to Germany and seek dialogue. This will be a challenge linguistically, associatively and culturally, since, as we mentioned above, many references to Ukrainian culture are practically unknown to the general public. We will also need to address the question of how Russian cultural professionals who are critical of Putin and Ukrainian cultural professionals can exchange ideas without being divided by the maelstrom of politics. And a learning process will be needed in Germany, like the great European narratives that, as we know from media and politics, will prove themselves in the "hard slog” this of concrete political discussion. We believe what the Ukrainian writer Andrei Kurkov wrote in the Road Map for Cultural Development in Ukraine is true: that the cultural space cannot be divided by state borders and front lines. It is the antidote to nationalist discourses and bogeymen. Artists can create a different conversation - if we let them. That may sound idealistic. But there are enough examples, especially in successful projects of German cultural policy in recent years, that give this statement a realistic basis.