Not so long ago, two researchers of antiquities in Rivne unearthed what they claim are “heretofore unknown specimens of Ukrainian national aesthetics,” products of an ordinary village blacksmith, whose style could be envied by established avant-garde masters. They are big silver pectoral crosses worn over the clothes. The craftsman that made them lived at the turn of the twentieth century in the village of Kryliv of what is now Korets district, Rivne oblast. Little is known about him.
“He was known in the village as Va-Smith, because when working he kept singing ‘Va-va-va- kuznets’ (smith),” says Viktor Luts, head of the icon section of the Rivne local history museum. He and his friend Vadym Ponomarenko, owner of a curiosity shop, discovered the blacksmith’s legacy and began to study it. They have reason to believe that the man’s name was Fedir Khomchuk, born 1876. “His grandson Vasyl died three years ago, so we couldn’t talk to him. His other relatives eventually settled in Bashkiria [currently Bashkortostan], so the only way to form some kind of picture of him was by studying his products.”
All things considered, Va-Smith (we will use his nickname) was an extraordinary individual in terms of his awareness and understanding of Ukrainian tradition. Rivne antiquarian Vadym Ponomarenko is convinced that that the pectoral crosses from Kryliv are unique; they show an inconceivable combination of Kyiv Rus’ craftsmanship and avant- garde the way we understand it today. He refers to a comparative analysis: “Suffice it to take any illustrated book on Old Rus’ sacral art and place one of Va-Smith’s crosses beside it; the resemblance of the interpretation of the Crucifixion and style leaves no reasonable doubt. This similarity and an almost thousand-year connection are especially evident when comparing the Kryliv crosses to the enkolpion double pectoral crosses dating from Kyiv Rus’ and containing relics (also known as the moshchovyk, from the Slavic moshchy, relics). On the other hand, Va-Smith shows a style akin to that practiced later by Oleksandr Arkhypenko [known in the West as Alexander Archipenko], Kasimir Malevich, and Ernst Neizvestny (two of the three came from Ukraine — Author).
In our case, the crosses, albeit bearing an outward resemblance, are quite different in detail, so that none is actually repeated. Thus, the miniature cherubs, canonically placed on the horizontal bar beside the hands of Christ are in one case reshaped as balls with wings and in the other as stylized bees, or as butterflies. The same is true of the board above the Savior’s head, with the inscription INTsI (Slavonic abbr., Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews) which in Va-Smith’s hands was transformed into a leaf from a tree, a scroll of parchment, or a royal crown. His interpretation of the nimbus is also special, a mix of a halo and a crown. One of the crosses unmistakably portrays the crown of a Russian tsar; others show the Egyptian pharaoh’s double crown. “The Kryliv blacksmith did not focus on detail in portraying Jesus,” says Vadym Ponomarenko. From him, the crucifix is a general symbol of Christianity in its Orthodox understanding.”
“Without doubt, this style in the hands of an ordinary village blacksmith would have been unthinkable without tradition,” adds Ponomarenko’s colleague Viktor Luts, “although we haven’t as yet revealed any links between the luxury of medieval Kyiv and a ramshackle twentieth century smithy in Volyn. For all we know, Va-Smith may have been familiar with works by Old Rus’ zolotar goldsmiths (the term dates back centuries and yuvelir, jeweler, came into use comparatively recently [ironically, zolotar is the current sobriquet of a public sanitation worker]). Kryliv is a village located between the historic towns of Dorohobuzh and Korets, an area that was often the scene of pitched battles at the period of feudal strife, leaving numerous burial mounds. It is safe to assume that Va-Smith unearthed something there.
The cross-making techniques are also interesting (one dating precisely from 1896). It is not stamping, using a mold, as the crosses are not one piece but made up of numerous components. Primarily, it is a base to which is attached a plate accommodating the separately made figures of Christ, cherubs, the INTsI board, and the skull (so-called Adam’s Head). The researchers believe that such crosses were made from silver rubles. Evidence that the crosses were made for ordinary people, as individual orders rather than commercial output, is the absence of the craftsman’s stamp (which was a must for all registered goldsmiths in the Russian Empire).
There are sixteen crosses attributed to Va-Smith today, all in Vadym Ponomarenko’s private collection which he intends to donate to the Rivne local history museum. When asked about its worth in money, he smiled, “To know what they actually cost, it is necessary to compare them to something like them [with an established value]. I haven’t found anything elsewhere in Ukraine. It’s quite possible that people in Kyiv, Chernihiv, or Vinnytsia oblast still have religious articles made by anonymous craftsmen with considerable historical and monetary value unbeknown to them. Assuming there were other craftsmen like Va-Smith, with their own creative outlooks, discovering them would add considerably to our knowledge of the Ukrainian people and culture.”
