Artists Against War: The Visual Language of War. An Interview with Valentyna Romanova

Artists Against War: The Visual Language of War. An Interview with Valentyna Romanova

Svidomi in collaboration with Artists Against War, an online gallery of posters created to support Ukraine after the Russian full-scale invasion, tell the stories of the artists who help Ukraine by means of art.  Read an interview with the illustrator Valentyna Romanova.

— What did you do before February 24?

— I am an illustrator, and I worked remotely for a foreign company. Sometimes I took additional orders for illustrations. In general, I had a normal, not troublesome life.

— Did you think that an invasion might begin? Did you prepare for it?

— I am a very anxious person. I used to try to avoid the news as much as possible and be in my own bubble — only in this state was it easy and comfortable for me to create, draw, and generally live somehow. Somewhere in early February, even my bubble began to burst by disappointing predictions about escalation. It scared me, but because I was not well aware of the global situation and what was happening not only between Ukraine and Russia but also in the world, I could not believe that this was possible in the XXI century. It seemed that stories about the war remained in the history books.

I planned to collect the survival kit on February 24. I didn't have time. Then I talked to my friends: some admitted that they had been ready since January. I told them: "What, you are not my friends? Why didn't you say: "Valia, start packing"?

— What was February 24 and the following days like for you?

— On February 24, I woke up in Kyiv because I heard something that sounded like a whistle. I live near a construction site and I always blame all the strange noises on them. I thought: "No, I need to go back to sleep, it's still early." I went to bed again, but then I felt strong anxiety, I don't know where it came from. I couldn't sleep, so I went to wash my face and heard explosions. I understood that this was not the construction. I was so "isolated" that only then did I start looking for Telegram channels about news in Ukraine because I hadn't followed anything like that before. I saw that explosions were everywhere.

My sister calls me and says: "Pack your things, we're picking you up." Our parents decided to stay in Kyiv. Shocked, with trembling hands, I began to pack — everything seemed so unnecessary that I took only a few things. My sister lives in the center, and I'm on the outskirts — I waited for her for about 1.5 hours on the way out of Kyiv. During that time, I saw people walking with cats and dogs in their arms, with suitcases, bags, and backpacks. The traffic was unreal. I stood there and thought that if I had been killed here, it would have been sad. Then we had a day-long sleepless journey to the west of Ukraine.

— Are you still in the west?

— I came back in 1.5 months. I celebrated Easter with my parents. Living after the evacuation was difficult. There were ten of us living in a house not designed for such a large number of people. I had no private space. It was also difficult because of the feeling of uncertainty. There was a constant expectation that it would become easier and better and that it would be possible to return, but time passed, and it did not become "easier and better." I caught myself thinking that I didn't feel like myself there. I decided that I would rather spend the last days in my own apartment than exhaust myself with this anxiety for an inexplicable amount of time.

— Was it more difficult to draw at that time, or did it, on the contrary, calm you down?

— For the first week, I could not do anything except monitor the news and talk to my relatives. I had this "survivor" syndrome — I could not allow myself to be happy, enjoy life, and create. 

For me, creating art is not just a part of life, it is a privilege.

This requires specific conditions: calmness, atmosphere, and access to good lighting and electricity.

Then I saw that Ukrainian illustrators switched from great stress to stress that they can withstand, they began to experience it all and express it in their work. I realized that I may have misunderstood my creativity and ability to convey messages visually. I have such an opportunity, I am not in the occupied territories, and everything is fine with me, which means I can use my resource. So I started painting.

— When did you return to the main job?

— I returned to work two weeks after the start of the full-scale war, but it can be compared to bipolar disorder. I had a project related to the hotel industry. The customers are foreigners, and everything there is as much fun, beautiful, and wonderful as possible. I had to draw illustrations on the theme of a happy family holiday while there is a war going on in Ukraine. It was hard to combine work and creativity where I wanted to express my opinion or show a tragic event.

— The ninth month of a full-scale war is already underway. How does it affect creativity?

— When I returned to Kyiv, I calmed down and began to think about what is most important to me. I decided that the best thing I could do for myself was to take care of my mental health. She realized that work was not a priority, so I quit. I tried to add more pleasure to my life than before. And this is how I lived through work burnout and the stressful moments of the war. I did not create anything at all for several months. It was difficult to experience such a volume of emotions and layering of various tragic events. Some people manage to become more active, hyper-creative, and productive in stressful moments. But this is not my story. I returned to painting only in September.

— Have you seen any reactions to your work? Have there been any reactions or offers from abroad?

— I got the most support from friends. They, knowing my delicate nature, understood that drawing was an important aspect of my life, and were happy when they saw me create something. Cooperation offers came from Ukrainian volunteering and charitable organizations. There were none from abroad, but foreign illustrators messaged me and asked how I was doing and whether they could do something to help. It was nice to understand that the people I admire understand and share my worldview and want to join in somehow to support.

— What, in your opinion, is the role of art in the war?

— Working as an illustrator is one of those that you can live without. In moments of crisis, people limit themselves to a certain minimum: they care about food, health, and safety. During such situations, it seems that there is no point in thinking about art. But for me, on the contrary, my activity intensified and flourished. I had a job during the quarantine, I had a job during the war. I didn't realize how much I was actually limiting myself to the idea that art and creativity were unimportant. They are very important because creative people are sensitive to everything that is happening around them and have the tools to explain it in various formats. People who do not have creative abilities, by viewing these works, listening to music, or watching videos, can connect their emotions with what the author expresses. It helps to release inner tension and to understand that they are not alone.

Currently, Ukraine is creating many initiatives aimed at helping people.

The best thing each of us can do is to use our strengths and help where we are most efficient. 

It is unlikely that I would be of much use if I, for example, worked at a factory. And people's support for creativity has shown that it is important even in war.