Personal Museums

By Volodymyr Kish

As I was tidying up the house the other day in preparation for dinner guests, it occurred to me that I have accumulated a sizable collection of Ukrainian art, memorabilia, books and artifacts. This collection dominates what one could consider the “decor” of my humble hut. My walls are filled with paintings, prints, and wall hangings of all sorts. I have cabinets and shelves overflowing with Ukrainian ceramics, pottery, carvings, castings, sculptures and collectibles. My friends refer to it half-jokingly as the Kish Ukrainian Museum. It also struck me that I also have considerably more sitting in cartons in the storage space in my basement; because I have run out of room to properly display them.

I used to have a bigger house before my last tour of duty in Ukraine which started in 2004, but by that time the kids had grown up and moved out, so we sold the house before moving to Kyiv, and left our belongings in storage for the three years we lived overseas. When we returned, we bought a smaller house, that though more suitable to our needs, could not accommodate the whole of my Ukrainian “collection”, which now increased substantially as a result of our latest stint in the Batkivshchyna.

My collection is an eclectic mix that spans the broad range from valuable art to kitschy souvenirs, but they all have a story and a personal value to me and my wife. Behind each piece there is an experience and a memory of a visit to the family village, a stroll down the historic Uzviz in Kyiv, an early morning visit to the craft fair in the Hutsul mountain village of Kosiv, a souvenir purchased at the restored palace of the Tatar Khan in Bakhcheserai in Crimea, a treasured find at some bazaar or festival, a gift from friend or relative. They all have sentimental and personal value.

We have some beautiful paintings by both Ukrainian Canadian artists as well as contemporary works we bought in Ukraine. We have several Hnizdovsky prints which no self-respecting Ukrainian art collection should be without. We have an icon corner graced with a half dozen traditional icons including several by the renowned Ukrainian Canadian artist Pavlo Lopata. We have a little trove of antique Hutsul ceramics and pottery. I have several dozen bulavy (ceremonial kozak maces) – wooden, glass and metal, that I collected during my travels throughout Ukraine. I have wooden Hutsul carvings of every description. My wife has an extensive collection of amber and coral, as well as some interesting intricate pieces of silver jewelry wrought by a talented Tatar silversmith. We have numerous sets of mugs, crystal, tea sets and traditional Ukrainian housewares and decorative items. We have embroidery of all kind overflowing various cabinet drawers. I have hundreds of Ukrainian books, both recent as well as some going back more than a hundred years. And lastly, I have literally thousands of pictures that I took over the five years that I lived, worked and travelled in Ukraine.

Aside from the practical aspects of managing and displaying (or not displaying) this vast collection, there is a more long-term dilemma that I ponder from time to time, and that is what will happen to all this when my wife and I are gone. We do have three children, but realistically, none of them has anywhere near the interest or connection to Ukrainian art and culture that my wife and I do. There are undoubtedly certain items that they may want to inherit, but I am under no delusion that most of our Ukrainian collection will be viewed as disposable. I do not relish the thought that much of it may wind up being trashed or subjected to “yard sale” clearance.

I suppose that some of my stuff is of sufficient artistic value that we could donate them to an established Ukrainian museum or library, but even these are becoming scarcer, and I am sure that they probably get offered far more stuff from the estates of deceased Ukrainians than they have the ability or desire to accommodate.

So, what is one to do with such a collection of Ukrainian stuff whose value lies primarily in the eyes of the collector. I suppose we should first and foremost enjoy it while we can. Once I retire, I will try to organize and catalogue it, as well as perhaps “prune” some of the less significant pieces. I will try and gauge what interest my kids may have in any of it and gift those items that strike their fancy. I will try to donate any items of significant cultural or historic value to appropriate Ukrainian museums and galleries, or to younger friends that might value some of this stuff the way I have. In the end though, I suppose that one of the things I will leave for my inheritors is the dilemma of what to do with this little personal museum of mine.