Ukrainians hardly know anything about Andy Warhol (1928-87), and probably do not value him highly. Of course, information about this personality can be found in Ukrainian-language sources (including The Day’s archives). The band Plach Yeremii even has a song composed to the lyrics by Petro Midianka. It starts with the words, “Andrii Warhola, a Ruthenian or Ukrainian.” In fact, the ethnic identification of the American king of pop art is not quite that simple, nor is the spelling of his surname. He is frequently spelled in different ways like Warhol, Warhola, Werhola etc. Warhola is considered to be the correct version. This surname is quite common in Lemkivshchyna, which in the 20th century was separated between different states, and whose residents, due to various circumstances (economic and political ones), had to leave their land. On the whole, Lemkos are considered to be a Ukrainian ethnic group, though not everyone agrees with this opinion.
Slovakians are still fighting for Warhol. At least they frequently present him as being Slovak. The idea of Warhol’s Slovakian origins is widespread, as the parents of the scandalous artist came from the territory of present-day Slovakia.
Yet there is a problem with this theory. Slovakians are mainly Roman Catholics. Andy Warhol and his parents, however, were Greek Catholics. On the Ukrainian-Slovakian border ethnic identity was determined by one’s denomination. Ukrainian Lemkos kept to the eastern religious tradition. At some point in late 17th – early 18th century Greek Catholic denomination became firmly established there. However, in the early 20th century the revival of Orthodoxy began. At the moment Lemkos, include many Orthodox believers. So, one can reasonably speak about the Ukrainian origins of the king of pop art, who comes from a place dominated by Orthodox churches and who attended Greek Catholic Church congregations on a regular basis.
However, Warhol was born far beyond Ukraine, in the city of Pittsburgh (Pennsylvania, US). His parents were first-generation immigrants and came from the Lemko village of Mikova, located nearby the town of Medzilaborce. Lack of land and poverty drove them overseas, like many other Lemkos.
The Warhols belonged to the lower stratum of the society. Nonetheless, Andrii (Andy) succeeded in getting on in the world. He graduated from the Carnegie Institute of Technology in Pittsburgh, where he studied industrial design. In 1949, he moved to New York, where he made a successful career as an illustrator and advertiser. In the 1960s Warhol created a series of paintings, where, often in flashy colors he depicted the peculiar “icons” of America at the time, Campbells canned food, Coca-Cola bottles, portraits of famous workers of pop culture, politicians etc. These works caused great resonanse, and Warhol managed to create a specific subculture, pop art. He founded “The Factory,” a cultural society, shot films, wrote books, and created rock bands.
Warhol’s legacy is percieved in different ways. One can find different opinions about him, in particular, that Warhol’s artworks are allegedly a fraud. Indeed, they produce an impression of a trivial game, even a mockery. Perhaps, this Ukrainian Lemko, in his distaste for American culture, decided to mock it. But thereafter the mockery became a cult.
By the way, there is evidence proving that, while living in New York, Warhol would attend a Greek Catholic church nearly every day (!). Did he want to atone for his sins and scandalousness with prayer? What was the real Warhol like? Was he the person shocking the American public with his extravagant, extremely unacceptable behavior? Or the person praying in church? The one challenging the status quo, or the one eager to come back to tradition? For me (and I doubt that I am the only one) this is a mystery.
It seemed to me that once I visit Warhol’s ancestral home, I would have some kind of epiphany. Therefore I wanted to go to Medzilaborce. I knew that it has a modern cultural center, where the Warhol Museum is located. I also knew that a large part of the population there is Ukrainian.
I would like to feel the spirit of this land. Of course, I could not count on tourist agencies to arrange my trip to Medzilaborce. It is no tourist site, despite the Warhol Museum being located there. However, I was glad that Medzilaborce is not far from our Uzhhorod, some 100 kilometers – two hours by car. However, I was told some disappointing news: even if you have a Schengen visa, you can’t be sure to cross the Slovakian border. For over a month already the Slovakian border guards practically do not let in the citizens of Ukraine, except for those having a Slovak Schengen visa, which is difficult to acquire. And neither publications in the Transcarpathian newspapers, nor TV reports are helpful in this. By the way, this situation specifically shows that we are disregarded. Small Slovakia, which in many respects is inferior to Ukraine, can make a fool of us in such a simple way. But there’s nothing we can do.
I had to go via Hungary, making a 100-kilometer detour. Hungarians should be paid their due: they have significantly eased border crossing for Ukrainian citizens, above all for their Ukrainian Hungarians. It won’t take much of an effort for the residents of the 50-kilometer border with Hungary to receive a Hungarian visa, especially those Ukrainians who are ethnic Hungarians (and there are many of this kind in Transcarpathian Ukraine). There are minimum lines at the Hungarian border and no special delays. One may cross the border in around one and a half hours without any special permits.
My companion and I immediately headed for Slovakia. There are no customs borders between these EU countries. Therefore we found ourselves in Slovakia without further delay.
The fact that there is hardly any difference between the border villages of Transcarpathian Ukraine and Slovakia immediately caught my eye. Nor was I glad to see the roads of our neighbors. At some points they are even worse than those in Trancarpathia. Another moment caught my eye: there are many Gipsies in the villages. They make, so to say, the local coloring.
We had to go for ten or more kilometers until we found a more or less decent tavern. This happened in the town Michalovce, where we found a “Slovakian Restaurant.” However, there were few Slovakian dishes. We were offered as many as one.
Slovakian is heard everywhere in Michalovce, although the town is located in ethnic Ukrainian territory. Its center is adorned by a grand church, built in the eastern, Byzantine style.
Michalovce is a stone’s throw from Medzilaborce, some 60 kilometers. It is a typically mountainous place, similar to our Zakarpattia oblast. And the farther you go into the mountains, the more Ukrainian elements you meet. There are Orthodox churches in villages and their names are frequently doubled in Ukrainian. Finally, there are Ukrainian-language billboards alongside the roads. Strange as it may seem, the villages in the mountains look more elegant and aesthetic than those in Slovakia’s south-east.
We finally came to Medzilaborce. It was a clean and nice-looking town, mainly located alongside the road. The painted building of the modern art center in the town’s center immediately catches the eye. It features Warhol’s portraits in color, and the bus station looks like a tomato soup can made by Campbells Company. This must have been done to fill the place with Warhol’s spirit.
When we approached the museum, the door was closed. According to the working schedule, hanging on the same door, the museum was supposed to be open. We started ringing the door bell. Finally the girl on duty opened the door. She told us that it was Monday (which was true!), and the museum did not work. Apparently, Monday is a hard day not only in Ukraine.
All our explanations that we’d come from afar, covered more than 100 kilometers to “see Warhol,” produced no effect. They did not allow us to see the museum even for a short while, although we were ready to pay whatever she asked. That’s hospitality for you. Was it orderly?
However, in spite of Monday’s “difficulties,” both a boarding house called Andy, and a restaurant with the same title were operating nearby. Frankly, there was nothing astonishing about the restaurant. Only a few reproductions of Warhol’s pictures and a portrait of him were hanging on the walls. That was all.
A monument to the pop art king was standing between the museum and boarding house. Poor “Andy” is standing in the middle of a waterless fountain, holding a holey umbrella above his head. In the same place, several steps from the monument there is an Orthodox cross. A combination of modernity and tradition. But that was not the last thing. When you go out of Warhol’s museum, your eyes immediately catch the grand Orthodox Church standing on a hill, rising above the town. We came up with a desire to ascend to it. At the church entrance there is an inscription in Old-Slavonic and pictures of Sts. Cyril and Methodius. Generally, the cult of Slavic educators is very strong in the region. This might be an echo of the ancient Cyril-Methodius tradition, as the Transcarpathian lands used to be within the sphere of influence of Greater Moravian Princehood, the locus of Cyril and Methodius’ operations. Like the museum, the church was closed. However, there was an elderly woman near the church. We broke into conversation. She told that she used to live in Presov (one of the biggest cities in eastern Slovakia). She was baptized as Roman Catholic. But after coming to this neighborhood, she converted to Orthodoxy.
The story sounded somewhat awkward. I thought, maybe in this region the East-Christian tradition was very strong. And on some genetic level it came out in the American Andy Warhol. Some people even try to find common aspects between this artist’s pictures and Orthodox icons. “There is something about this,” I told myself, casting a glance at the Andy Warhol Museum, which I could see perfectly well from the church’s terrace.
I thought to myself: the real Warhol is a mask that at the same time has become part of his face and the master, a mask of a person who cynically mocked traditional values, demonstratively ignoring them, but deep-down remained a traditional believer. The essence of Andy Warhol, Andrii Warhola consists specifically in this duality.
Who knows, maybe Andy’s parents, Ondrej and Julia-Yustyna came to this church, and watched the square below. Could they imagine that at some point, a monument to their son would stand here alongside his museum? And that Medzilaborce’s central street would be named after Andy Warhol? By the way, namely on this street we saw a billboard that read, “Speak Ukrainian without fear.” This was a kind of political advertisement, because of the election campaign going on in Slovakia at the moment.
However, frankly speaking, I did not feel that one can speak Ukrainian in Mizhlabirtsi without fear. The town has been slovakized. The Slovak language is reigning everywhere, although Ukrainian might continue to drag out its miserable existence in surrounding villages. The question is for how long. Apparently, soon times will come when the descendants of Ukrainians will differ from Slovaks only by religious denomination. The way Andy Warhol differed from the most of Americans.
Medzilaborce is equally far from the Ukrainian border as from Michalovce. However, it took us longer to stand on the border than driving. Slovak border guards let Ukrainians out of their country with difficulty. People are standing in two lines here: first, for the EU countries citizens (this is a privileged line, where people are admitted relatively quickly), and second, mostly for Ukrainians, who undergo a thorough examination. On such border one feels humiliated and offended for the country of origin. I also started to understand what the real worth of the liberal values proclaimed by the European Union is. They seem to exist, but not for us.
Forget the European Union. We should resolve our problems. I wish we could create the conditions for our citizens not to seek their fortune abroad and lead a normal life and work in Ukraine. And also that our gifted people, like Warhol, could realize themselves in their own land, not far away, overseas. But this is something unreal. Unfortunately.
