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Project “Maria”(Project MARIA) of Canadian artist of Ukrainian origin Lesya Marushchak became the most famous exhibition about the Holodomor of 1932—1933, according to the recognition of the National Museum of Holodomor-Genocide in Kyiv. This artistic work visited nine countries of the world, and the book created on the basis of the project won international awards. The exhibition provides an opportunity to look at the memory of the Holodomor through art that makes a complex subject accessible and understandable on many levels. On the Day of Remembrance of Holodomor victims, we talked with Lesya Marushchak about her plan, hidden symbols and how she managed to tell beautiful things about terrible things.
The origin of the project idea “Maria“
— Do you remember when the idea of creating a project first appeared “Maria“? How did you find the form in which it was implemented? How long has this idea matured for you?
— First of all, it is worth noting that I turned to art only in 2016. Then I was diagnosed with blood cancer, and everything happened very quickly, because I did not know how much time I had left. This made me act decisively and urgently. One of my first projects was “ERASURE: Memory and the Power of Politics”. His inspiration was a box of old photographs that belonged to my husband's mother, a native Malian survivor of Stalin's terror.
In that box were photos with faces removed or cut out. It reminded me of how my grandmother also cut people out of photos — out of fear or painful memories. Thus appeared the concept of “erasing” people — a very old and terrible process in which not only the physical presence but also the memory of a person is destroyed.
I associated this concept with Stalin's policy, which I called “soft genocide”. It began with the destruction of churches, schools, priests, intelligentsia — everything that forms the identity of the people. After that, I thought about the next step of this policy — the Holodomor, already a real genocide.
At the time, I was reading Anne Applebaum's book Red Famine, which describes in great detail the historical, political, and physiological aspects of the Holodomor, as well as the American accounts of those events. This gave me the understanding that the Holodomor was the second stage of the genocide, and I singled out three phases of this process.
— How did the image come about “Mary“?
I wondered, what does it mean to be a young girl? What does she dream about? What would her photographic album look like if she lived a normal life and not what she was destined for? This is how the image of Mary was born.
I created an imaginary album of her dreams. In my archive were the costumes that Aunt Ganya from Toporivtsi gave me. I photographed these elements and built her world through photographs. To do this, I used a very old photo album and named the series”Red“.
The color red in my grandmother was always associated with something terrible. In this series, he symbolizes the dreams of a young girl, her being stolen from her. She does not yet realize that her life will change forever, but a deep drama already permeates this image.
“Counting” Series: Finding Meaning in Numbers
The second series of the project was a work entitled “Counting”. At the time I was working on it, the news reported about the ship sinking. Then the exact number of victims was named, and this accuracy caught my eye. With the Holodomor everything is different: they talk about 4 million, someone calls 7, and if you take into account the generations that were not born because of this tragedy, then more than 11 million. But there is no final figure.
This uncertainty made me think: does the number matter when it comes to an act of genocide?One person or millions is still a crime against humanity. With this question I lived working on the series: How do we count in life, and is the human mind capable of grasping the scale of mass destruction?
I began to explore how different eras counted. I was particularly interested in an ancient artifact from Greece — The Salamis Tablet, the oldest tablet. It was a marble slab with lines along which pebbles moved, creating counts. This idea of the account as a process became the basis of my work. For this series, I used archival photographs of the Austrian engineer Alexander Wienerberger, who was in Ukraine during the Holodomor, in particular in Kharkiv. He photographed what he saw and left a diary with horrific testimonies. In these photographs, I created lines and dots to symbolize the count, and posed a philosophical question: Does the number of victims really matter when it comes to such a large-scale crime?
I wanted to create two dialogues. The first is between Winerberger's photographs and my abstract artwork. I used counting and graphic elements to interpret historical materials. The second dialogue is between these new works and contemporary audiences. My goal is to get people to think about a question that does not give me peace: Can we understand genocide and its scale?
This series is not just about numbers. It is about how people deal with tragedies, trying to make sense of what, at first glance, is incomprehensible.
Transfiguration Series: Testimonies of Suffering
The third series of the project was named “Transfiguration”. It became the testimony of people who survived the Holodomor. I worked with eyewitness interviews available on Canadian and American resources, as well as with the stories of my “Mary”. I was particularly struck by the psychological and physiological aspects of hunger, which Anne Applebaum wrote about in detail. One of the memories remained in my memory: the children said that their mothers became “like a glass of water” — transparent, weak, fragile.
I tried to convey this horrible process of dying from cold and hunger in my photographs. At the same time, these works turned out to be eerily beautiful — it was a way to find the human in the inhuman.
Symbol of prayer
In 2018, during a trip to Lviv, I bought a bag with prayer books at the fair. One of them I took home, scanned all 600 pages and created a work called “Prayer”.
I thought: What do people do when they die? They pray. Imagine more than 4 million people dying at the same time and praying. This thought did not let me go. My goal was to give voice to those who could not speak up for life, whose pain the world then ignored. I wanted these works to “talk,” even after death.
I am currently working with German composer Oleg Shlepko and his colleagues from Ukraine to create music based on my work to give sound and voice to the suffering of millions.
The final part of the project was the story of a particular woman. Once I wrote to my friends on Facebook asking me to share photos that could be related to the Holodomor. One woman replied that she had a picture of her mother-in-law, whose name was Maria. The family allowed the photo to be used, asking to indicate only her name — Maria F.
I realized that I needed a symbol that would embody the suffering of the Ukrainian people. I cut Mary out of a family photo and supplemented the image with wings painted by a Byzantine icon painter. So I created a collage: Mary turned into an angel, a symbol of our people and their pain.
Instead, in my process, I used Japanese paper, natural materials and techniques associated with icon painting: mixing egg with wine, adding pigments, creating almost sculptural elements. These works seem alive: the paper is compressed, straightened, resembling human skin.
One of the works within this project was a huge photograph measuring one by four meters. It was created under the influence of the moment when my family was preparing for the burial of my father in the winter. The ground was hard as a stone, but we were digging the grave, throwing lumps of frozen earth. I photographed this scene and used it as a basis for my work.
The creation process was part of my dialogue with nature. After printing, I took a photo to the prairies. During the work, the wind rose, it began to rain, and I, barefoot in an embroidered shirt, interacted with materials. The paper soaked, wore out, tore, and it became part of the art itself.
My creative process always involves interaction with the environment. It is important for me that nature is involved in the creation of works, and people can touch them, feel the texture. These are not static exhibits under glass that cannot be touched. I strive for robots to become part of the human experience so that they evoke emotion and promote reflection.
It is important for me that it is not just a set of exhibits, but a sacred space similar to a church. People who come to the exhibition must become participants in the process. They should not just look, but think, reflect: who are we? What is our role?
In a conversation with Harvard curator Maketa Best during FotoFest in Houston (a contemporary art organization dedicated to the advancement of photography and visual culture — ed.), we discussed the concept of a mobile memorial. She asked, “Lesya, how does the mobile memorial work? What do you want to convey to people?” It made me wonder: what works should I create so that people can interact with topics as difficult as the Holodomor?
Often, viewers do not know anything about this tragedy, but through the works they are able to touch the story, literally and metaphorically. It is not only about memory, but also about dialogue — with history, with oneself, with society.
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For this work, I used wax and ashes that I received from the local church. I asked the priest to share the remains of candles and ashes left after the rites. Using these materials, I painted with wax and ash on paper to create the feeling that the prayers were penetrating the very structure of the work. I painted so that these prayers would somehow enter the middle. Photographs become sculptural objects so that people can touch more deeply on these topics that we are so afraid of. We don't know how to talk about it, we can't even intellectually perceive it all, and photography and art give everyone the opportunity to tackle difficult topics.
— How did the audience react to the project “Maria”? Maybe you remember some feedback or reactions?
— Project “Maria”became famous far beyond the borders of Ukraine traveling to different countries. In Ukraine, the exhibition started around 2020, visiting 6—7 cities with the support of the World Congress of Ukrainians. The last place was Kharkiv, where she was at the beginning of a full-scale war. Subsequently, it was transported and exhibited in Western Ukraine. Unfortunately, I was not present at any of the Ukrainian presentations. It's hard for me, because a project only makes sense when people interact with it. However, I know that the exhibition caused a deep response.
One of the key elements of the exhibition was interactive work: we disassembled the book “Maria” by creating a wall of pages strung on nails. People could take a page, write on it their memories of the Holodomor, if any were in their families, and attach it back to the wall. This created a lively dialogue between the past and the present.
One of the most important reactions I remembered was from a curator who said, “This is extremely beautiful, and this is about genocide.” I have never worked with the intention of creating something beautiful, but it is this aesthetic that helps people get involved with difficult topics. She explained: “If these were just images of hunger and death, people, especially children, might fear and avoid it. But your work creates a path to perception through beauty. People begin to interact with it, and then delve into the story if they want to know more.”
This concept became the basis of the “Mobile Memorial”, which enables people to participate in the memory of the Holodomor at different levels, gradually delving into the topic.
The exhibition project included two videos: Animatas №1 and Animatas №2. The name is based on the Latin word “animati” — “souls”. In the video, old photographs printed on fabric hang between trees like linen. The wind blows the fabric, and the images seem alive — figures of people move, flicker, reminding of souls who have long left this world.
The difference between the two videos is the time: one shot during the day and the other shot at night. Sound is a monotonous rumble that creates the effect of spiritual connection with the past.
One of the most important works was the art book “Transfiguration”, which was included in the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Library of Congress, the Victoria and Albert Museum and other prestigious institutions. This was an important moment for me, because many of these institutions do not have similar materials on the topic of the Holodomor.
A few weeks ago, I spoke with the head of the Library of Congress, who said, “Your books are important because they explore complex topics through art, helping people who know nothing about it join the conversation.”
Currently, the materials of the exhibition are in Vinnytsia. You can see it in electronic version at siteMuseum of the Holodomor-Genocide.
My goal has always been to create works that touch on an emotional level. At a time when the world is tired of war and tragedy, such materials can stir human hearts, awaken empathy, and inspire understanding. I want people not just to look at these works, but to feel them. Through wax, ashes, paper and prayers, I sought to convey a tragedy that is difficult to comprehend intellectually. This art invites not only to think, but also to experience, to touch, to feel. It is a way to open the way to talk about the pain and loss that we are often silent about.
Lesja Marushchak— Canadian photographer and artist of Ukrainian origin, known for her projects exploring themes of historical memory, national identity and tragedies of the Ukrainian people. Lesja Marushchak through photography, archival materials and installations explores the histories of colonized peoples and their transformations under the influence of geopolitical factors, as well as the individual and collective cultural consequences of expulsions. Her narrative expositions with static and dynamic images and rough and delicate sculptural elements have been presented in more than 65 museums, galleries and art spaces around the world. Her most famous project in Ukraine is dedicated to the Holodomor of 1932—1933 and is entitled Progetto MARIAwhich was shown in nine countries. The book based on the project was awarded the shortlisted book prize of the influential international photography festival Rencontres d'Arles in France (2019) and received the award for best design at the International Book Arsenal Festival in Kyiv (2019). The book “MARIA” was developed jointly with Elias Zhekalov, REDZET Kyiv. In September 2020, The Guardian published a photo from the MARIA project in an article about the best pictures from Landskrona festival.
The material was worked on:
Researcher of the topic, author of the text: Vera Labych
Bildeditor: Vyacheslav Ratynskyi
Literary Editor: Julia Foutei
Site Manager: Vladislav Kuhar
