By Michael Best
Creating botanical art in a war zone is a battle. And Ukrainian botanical artist, Alona Hrinchuk, is living that battle. She’s creating botanical art in circumstances unimaginable to those of us whose daily lives do not include air raid sirens, explosions, destruction, terror, and death.
Her story is as compelling as it is disturbing and it needs to be told to help underscore the mindless, destructive, murderous barbarity and, ultimately, utter futility of war. Hearing Alona’s story told from a botanical art perspective, affords the opportunity to broaden understanding of the world of botanical art beyond one’s immediate, comfortable environment; to realize that for some it’s not the peaceful, meditative activity that it’s generally understood it to be. Yet, the love for the genre by Ukrainian botanical artists like Alona, keeps them pressing on to produce work of uplifting beauty in sharp contrast with the depressing ugliness of the dire circumstances of war.
Alona graduated from the National Aviation University and before becoming a full-time botanical artist worked as a design engineer in the aviation industry. Russia invaded in February 2022 and by the next month they were within ten kilometers of where Alona lived. She says that the shelling was so intense that she and her family left the area to stay with her parents. Her sketchbook, a small palette of paints, a few brushes, and some coloured pencils were among the few possessions they took with them. She says that during that time, “I painted very little because fear was always present, but I drew small postcards of the flowers I found in my parents’ garden with coloured pencils.”
When they returned to Kyiv, she resigned from her job at the aviation factory for personal safety reasons, saying that she felt more secure “in the familiar walls of my home.” She says too that it was an opportunity to pursue full time botanical art that she had first taken an interest in some three years before. She says that she did so with her husband’s agreement and support and “hasn’t regretted it for a second.”
So aside from having to flee shelling and an invading enemy, how would you imagine the war has impacted her ability to do her art? She explains: “The impact has been colossal. The realization that life can end at any moment makes you want to live fully and do what you love, what you want right now, and not postpone anything for later. So, I started learning more and painting even more. Now I teach other artists my technique.
Of course, the stress, sleepless nights, and constant sirens have taken their toll, as has going to the shelter in the middle of the night almost every night. Lately I sleep better and sometimes I don’t hear the sirens, which isn’t great, but mentally it’s better to get more sleep and, as a result, be more productive. I’ve become more anxious, and especially before starting a new painting my hands often shake, making it hard to draw clean lines.
Also, I always tidy up my workspace at night, putting away all of my art materials in a cupboard far from the windows. They are very precious to me as I’ve collected them over the years. I take good care of them because anything can happen and a shelling could damage the building at night. It’s exhausting to unpack and set everything up again every morning. But that’s okay, the main thing is not to give up and to keep creating as it distracts me and gives me the strength to move forward.”
As one would expect, war disrupts commerce. Local businesses have difficulty restocking shelves and deliveries from online sources are interrupted. The logistics of moving goods, including art materials, becomes complicated and hence shortages and price escalations soon follow. Alona points out that in 2022 the supply of art materials to Ukrainian stores was particularly bad when the airspace was closed but that since then shortages have eased a bit. However, costs have increased significantly.
Plant subjects too can be casualties of war. While mentioning how the war has restricted outdoor recreational activities due to curfews and travel restrictions, Alona says that: “I find beauty in everything and paint what is currently around me in the area where I am. If I can visit a botanical garden at any time, it brings me special joy. I buy flowers from local shops or my parents send me flowers from their garden. Of course, many of our artists who were forced to evacuate from their homes and emigrate due to the occupation of many territories and the destruction of plant life, face a common problem that affects us all.”
In spite of all of this, Alona and fellow botanical artists have kept painting, attending workshops, and exhibiting: “I continue to persevere. I conduct workshops because people need them. For many, art provides a distraction and allows them to forget, even for a moment. But you never know what tomorrow will bring, whether it will be shelling, an air raid alert, or a day of mourning.”
Alona is on the board of the Society of Ukrainian Botanical Artists (SUBA). “We are actively working on the development and promotion of botanical art in Ukraine. We hold annual exhibitions in the National Museum of Natural History in Kyiv for all artists who continue to paint and create botanical works despite the war. SUBA is participating in the American Society of Botanical Artists project, Botanical Art Worldwide, and I am exhibiting in the Society of Botanical Artists exhibition, Plantae 2025, in London.”
Mahatma Gandhi said: “What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or in the holy name of liberty or democracy.” You may not be able to directly influence the mad destruction under the name of totalitarianism in Ukraine, but you can empathize, particularly with fellow botanical artists. And empathy was described by Austrian psychiatrist Alfred Adler (1870 – 1937) as, “Seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another and feeling with the heart of another.” Seeing with the eyes of Alona, hearing with the ears of Alona, and feeling with the heart of Alona and her fellow Ukrainian botanical artists, is empathy.
But empathy is pointless if not conveyed. An encouraging social media post, an email, or any other gesture could go a long way to letting fellow botanical artists know that the rest of the botanical art world stands is solidarity with them and that they are not being forgotten as they battle to survive and paint in a war zone.
See the art:
The Society of Ukrainian Botanical Artists website: www.botanicalartua.com
Alona Hrinchuk Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/alona.hrinchuk/
Alona Hrinchuk website: https://hrinchuk.com