For Honored Artist of Ukraine Svitlana Pidlypchuk, art has never been merely a pursuit of aesthetics — it is a way of grounding, healing, and a possibility to remain standing when the familiar world collapses to its foundations. Today, as a cultural ambassador in Europe, Svitlana transforms canvases into a manifesto of life. Even through personal anxiety for her son, who defends Ukraine in the ranks of the Armed Forces of Ukraine, she finds the strength to create bright, life-affirming images. This interview is about how to find lost roots through creativity, preserve identity in emigration, and transform pain into an inexhaustible life force.
Svitlana, your path began in Kamianets-Podilskyi — a fortress city with a multilayered history. How did the atmosphere of this “city on the stone” lay the foundation of your artistic vision?
I was born in a very ancient city with a thousand-year history. The atmosphere of the original “city on the stone” (it is also called the “flower on the stone”) had a decisive influence on my development as an artist. By coincidence, I was born exactly in the Pidzamche district, so the Old Castle for me is a true place of power.
The love for roots was laid by my parents and ancestors, who come from a deep Ukrainian village with incredible landscapes. National spirit, history, and traditions prevailed there. The imprint that folk songs, dance, and lullabies leave on us lives somewhere deep in the subconscious. This is the memory of the kin, of generations, genetic memory, the collective unconscious of the nation.
You have dedicated about 30 years to pedagogy. What is the highest measure of success for you: the technical perfection of a student or the moment when they find their “voice”?
I felt a calling to teach children back in my youth. Having worked for many years in the Center for Children’s Creativity and the “Podolyanochka” studio, I always set a goal not only to provide skills in academic drawing or pysankarstvo (Easter egg painting) but also to instill a love for creativity.
The measure of success for me is that the student, through the brush, found their own unique style and vision. This is extremely valuable — to pass reality through one’s inner world and convey one’s state. After all, photography can reliably convey an image today, but art is about the soul.
In your work, academic painting meets pysankarstvo. Why is it important to integrate these ancient codes into contemporary art?
It is specifically this combination that constitutes the main interest for me. My task as an artist in modern realities is to popularize Ukrainian art on the world stage. I want us to be perceived in London or Paris not only as a nation suffering from war but as strong people who find inspiration to create even in the most difficult times.
We carry light to the world through our traditions.
Does working with live wax and fire in the digital age become a kind of “grounding” for people in emigration?
Undoubtedly. The pysanka is exactly that encrypted code of the nation that stands in the same row as the vyshyvanka (traditional embroidered shirt). It carries archaic symbols: a sown field, seeds — a prayer for harvest, prosperity, and peace. Working with wax and fire is almost a sacred ritual, a grounding, when a person loses a sense of stability. This is especially relevant in emigration: by writing pysankas, a person regains a sense of support and origins.
How does your education as a psychologist help you “read” hidden meanings in works — both your own and those of your students?
Psychology provides the opportunity to see what a person or a child cannot express in words. In art therapy, secret triggers manifest through composition and color. In my own canvases, there are many bright colors now. I notice a gravitation toward maximally painterly images. This is a reaction of the psyche to the “delayed life syndrome” that all Ukrainians feel now — the inner world compensates for the lack of joy in reality through bright colors.
Your art therapy classes for women in London are in great demand. What requests do Ukrainian women most often come with?
Women come with requests for finding a lost identity and overcoming uncertainty. Painting helps them pour out the pain that is impossible to speak about. Through color and form, they learn again to feel life “here and now,” transforming grief into inner strength and resilience.
After 2022, your palette changed. What dictates the choice of colors now — calmness or the energy of resistance?
My palette has become more expressive. Although I gravitate toward light, a certain tension and energy of struggle have appeared in the works. The choice of colors today is a manifesto of life. Even if there is anxiety in the soul, on the canvas I choose the affirmation of Ukrainian existence. This is my personal resistance to destruction.
Your son Oleksandr defends Ukraine in the ranks of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. How does personal anxiety affect the images of flowers or landscapes that you create today?
Every flower on my canvas now is like a prayer for life. Anxiety for my son makes every stroke more conscious. In landscapes, I look for that strength of the Ukrainian land which should protect our warriors. This is no longer just botany or architecture — these are images of indomitability and faith that life will prevail.
You conduct masterclasses for refugee children. What is art for them in emigration?
For children, it is a safe space. Art allows them to express what they have experienced without being traumatized again through words. It is an opportunity for an hour or two to return to “normalcy,” where only paints and creativity exist. It is both a way to forget about the war and an opportunity to manifest their belonging to their home through familiar images.
What exactly surprises the British public the most in Ukrainian art at exhibitions in Richmond or Epsom?
They are struck by our indomitability and how deep our traditional art is. They see in pysankas or canvases not just “exotica,” but a powerful civilizational foundation. They are moved by the fact that even in a state of war, we carry beauty, not just pain.
In 2025, you became part of the Global Talent Confederation. What new creative horizons do you plan to open for yourself in this community?
For me, this is an opportunity to bring cultural diplomacy to a new level. I dream of realizing projects that will unite traditional pysankarstvo and modern painting, so that the voice of Ukraine sounds in the world even louder and more professionally.
