Ivan Mykolaichuk died almost two decades ago. Maria Yevheniyivna, his widow and People’s Artist of Ukraine, lived with him for 25 years, yet she has not written any memoirs about her husband. Instead, she expressed her feelings in a collection of songs entitled “Farewell to You, My Angel!” Every word she speaks of him is filled with love.
Mrs. Mykolaichuk, do you remember the first time you met Ivan?
Maria: It was in September, what we call a golden autumn. I had already been working in the theater for a month. I reported for work and saw a group of people surrounding a tall young fellow. I walked over and took a closer look at him. I saw an unfamiliar face, but his eyes were inquisitive and interested. It was as though arrows flew between the two of us. Perhaps that’s what they call love at first sight.
You got married early. How did your parents feel about it?
Maria: I was in Kyiv. Ivan had a break between shooting sessions of Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. He made a trip to his home village of Chortoryia (currently Cherniv) to visit his parents. He phoned me and said, “Come over, you’re going to get married.” I told him I was going on a concert tour of Yugoslavia. Ivan then said bluntly, “That’s your choice: Yugoslavia or marriage.”
“The next day I visited the artistic director of the Veriovka Choir and said I couldn’t make the tour because of a serious reason, I was getting married. Hryhory Huryiovych was surprised, because all the required foreign tour paperwork was done, and asked if I was sure I was making the right decision. When I told him that my fiance was waiting for me, he sighed and said, “Well, you’ll have more than one opportunity to travel abroad, and getting married is good. God bless you!” I thanked him and rushed out to buy a train ticket. I was able to buy one in economy class only before the train was about to leave. I slept on the third birth — that was how I left for my wedding...
Ivan met me at the station and took me to his place. When I told my mother we were going to get married, she said crisply, “I won’t allow this!” Ivan tugged me and we both fell to our knees. Ivan begged, “Please allow me to take your daughter as my wife.” My mother smiled and gave us her blessings: “May the road of happiness unfold before you.”
You acted with Ivan in the movie The Lost Edict. How was the idea for this production conceived?
Maria: The script was written by Ivan Drach, but by the time the authorities adopted, approved, and authorized it, little was left of it. In fact, they didn’t even want Ivan in the picture. But Drach said, “If Ivan agrees to play his part in this film, I will allow him to make whatever changes he considers necessary. I trust him implicitly.” This decided my Ivan, of course. The film was directed by Borys Ivchenko, he was Ivan’s and my friend. Ivan, however, could be described as a co-author of this production; he added a number of scenes and lines that would become aphorisms. Acting in this movie was interesting for me. I played the part of the widow. In one scene Ivan and Fedir Stryhun had to jump on their galloping horses and ride on. After three retakes they couldn’t pull off the stunt. We, the extras, burst out laughing. Ivan got mad and yelled, “I see people in the shooting area who shouldn’t be here. Get them out!” After they shouted, “Quiet! Action!” they pulled it off.
Ivan played a negative role in the movie Annychka, yet we remember him as a positive character.
Maria: Ivan’s eyes were very expressive. Looking into them was like looking into a deep lake. Why didn’t they allow Ivan to play the role of Orest in White Bird with a Black Mark? Ivan wrote the script together with Yuriy Illienko. Ivan wanted to play Orest, but Derzhkino [State Cinematography Committee of Soviet Ukraine] told him, “You are too good an actor to play this role. Can an actor who has played the Kobzar play an enemy of Soviet power? If you play Orest, the audience will favor your character.” Ivan was very upset, but he relented, otherwise they would ban the picture. By the way, Bohdan Stupka was fantastic as Orest. It was his debut as a movie actor.
This movie broaches the subject of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA). This subject was taboo during Soviet times. Ivan was a child during WW II. What did he know about that period in our history?
Maria: Ivan was an ordinary boy, who was born in a Bukovynian village. Many of his fellow villagers fought in the UPA’s ranks. One of his schoolmates and his parents were deported to Siberia because they were branded as “forest soldiers.” Since childhood Ivan was well aware that the UPA soldiers fought for a free Ukraine.
Babylon-XX is a separate entry in Mykolaichuk’s creative biography. What prompted Ivan to make a movie based on Vasyl Zemliak’s story?
Maria: Zemliak wrote the script based on his story, but the artistic council of the Dovzhenko Studios rejected it. They recommended finding another script writer. That was when Zemliak turned to Ivan, who hadn’t even read The Flock of Swans at the time. Zemliak gave us a copy. Ivan read it, and after meeting Zemliak, he wrote the script in three days. Zemliak called to ask if he liked the book and was told that the script was ready. He died just as Ivan was doing the casting. Everything happened suddenly and unexpectedly. Ivan had Zemliak’s name and his own in the credits to commemorate the author — and to help his wife materially. He based Fabian’s role on Zemliak’s description. I should mention that Zemliak said of Ivan: “He isn’t Mykolaichuk, he is Socrates!”
Ivan took to the script and made the picture with great enthusiasm. But then the completed footage was heavily edited. Ivan said that the censors had thrown out the most interesting footage.
What is your favorite movie?
Maria: That’s difficult for me to say. I’m fond of Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, The Dream, the White Bird with a Black Mark, The Lost Edict. You know, Ivan’s eyes gazing from the screen still captivate my soul.
There were legends about the hospitality of your home on Zhylianska Street. How did you welcome so many guests?
Maria: Ivan was a charismatic man. Our home was always crowded with people. I often had to go on concert tours with the Veriovka Choir, so work took a large part of my life. It was simpler when I was at home. You know, a woman will always find something at home to fix lunch, dinner, whatever. But when I was away, Ivan managed by himself. We always had potatoes, a chunk of fatback, and corn flour at home. Ivan always made a delicious kulish [thick gruel of corn flour]. And the kind of borsch he made! He was never loath to do household chores. There were times when Ivan had to act in several movies at the same time, so he had no time to eat. Sometimes, when my choir was moving from one city to the next, I would fly to Kyiv to do the laundry, clean, cook, and wait for Ivan to return from the shoot. He would say, “I see our windows looking more cheerful, but I can’t figure out the reason. Then I step into the doorway and the aroma tells me that you are at home.” We felt comfortable in our home, and we made people from many walks of life feel welcome. Often these encounters led to new roles and movies.
You are a singer, Ivan was an actor. Did your professions mutually influence your creativity?
Maria: I believe that Ivan had a very precious and major effect on my singing. He taught me to use my voice to convey the meaning of a song. Well, years passed before I realized the importance of his coaching. It helps me even now. Every song can be considered a separate plot that can be used as a movie script.
