Have you ever heard of an international festival of television and radio programs meant for ethnic minorities, known as “ Miy Ridny Krai” [My Native Land], held in Uzhhorod for the fifth consecutive year? No? Not to worry, it is a cultural event mostly followed by the public and media of Zakarpattia oblast. Although involving contestants from 21 countries, this festival is fleetingly mentioned by newscasters on the central channels when breathlessly describing brief VIP visits to the Ukrainian province, mostly to hand out awards, briefly reminding the audience of the ongoing “harmonization of interethnic relationships.”
First is the public relations aspect. On the third day of the festival, partaking of the delicious bogrash goulash (a pungent meat soup) cooked over a bonfire in the woods, listening to folk songs, I finally realized what Petro Petryk, Director of the Transcarpathian Conservatory of Music, had in mind when he mentioned seminars and training sessions in an interview with The Day (August 13, 2003, not translated in this digest). Now all this was replaced by live contact, at a truly representative and truly international festival. Everybody said that the atmosphere had been kept warm and friendly year in and year out, perhaps because most journalists focusing on ethnic minority topics are kind-hearted and unambitious people.
Uzhhorod, in turn, tends to inspire one to be tolerant and inclined toward interethnic contacts. Its people, as if striving to reaffirm the Tower-of-Babel legend, appear to be innate polyglots. One hears the Slovak, Romanian, Hungarian, Polish, German, and Czech languages in its narrow, winding medieval streets, let alone Russian and Ukrainian. There are also the Boikos, Hutsuls, and Lemkos living in a large village in Kolochava District, Zakarpattia oblast. Until 1939, this village bordered on Poland, Romania, and what is now the Slovakia. At present, Kolochava hosts a Jewish cemetery and the graves of Hungarian and Czechoslovak soldiers. Everyone tends to register oneself as Ukrainian, although German and Romanian surnames are by no means infrequent.
Small wonder that the Transcarpathian Regional Television and Radio Company should run five sections broadcasting in ethnic minority languages. It is also true that neighboring Slovak, Hungarian, Romanian, and Yugoslav companies have such networks and transmissions. Lithuania has four programs dealing with the diaspora, being given prime time on a popular television channel and registering decent ratings. In contrast, Ukraine’s principal channels broadcast ethnic minority programs rather seldom. An Inter channel executive attended the festival especially to select such programs (maybe they’ll even start broadcasting the news occasionally in Ukrainian! — Ed.). I asked him about any such acquisitions, but the gentleman was consistently evasive. Later I realized that there wasn’t much to choose from, considering what we were offered to watch.
Let me stress that “My Native Land” is meant to represent ethnic minority programs in the first place. It is their way of self-identification, an opportunity to relate their views on the issues from within, rather than from the official standpoint. Some believe that such radio and television programs are original, others say they are marginal, yet no one tries to deny their importance. Such projects are like primitive folk art with its bright colors, and unconventional, somewhat schematic world views. So it would be erroneous to assess such works using the standard approaches. One ought to pay heed to the festival’s ideologue, Austrian pop star Mirko Bogataj, president of the European Ethnic Broadcasting Association. He insists that Europe’s ethnic minority television companies are called upon to pave the way for tolerance among such communities. After all, globalization address ethnic cultures as well.
Those present voiced differing views on what headway television had made in that domain. Interviewed by the newspapers, some of them stressed the festival’s European meaning; there was backstage talk attacking some of the programs submitted. The multinational jury relied on a 20- point scale, so that programs were accepted after scoring 10 plus points. True, some of them making their way to the finals appeared plainly mediocre. Personally, I was surprised to watch Ukrainian films about certain events (e.g., Folklorama). Most were like dry and drawn-out video information items. It was the same with video interviews. Quite a few presentations, especially works submitted from abroad, were meaningless sketches, scenes from life having neither beginning nor end. Most Ukrainian works were of a higher journalistic level, while foreign productions were markedly better in terms of camera work. Thus, the Slovak film, Orthodox Christmas (Kosice Studios) placed second and won a special prize for beautiful filming.
Another painful issue was the selection of topics. Many films were traditionally dedicated to ethnic traditions and tragic entries in ethnic histories. This is only to be expected, considering that every generation revises such topics in its own way. However, no one seemed determined to leave the rough edges unsmoothed, meaning tackling current issues faced by a given state. Here one ought to mention the new regime of crossing the Ukrainian frontiers, something especially relevant in Zakarpattia, affecting people’s personal incomes, practically altering the borderland’s lifestyle. No one seemed anxious to broach the subject of conflicts arising between countries having territorial claims, as is the case with Romania and Ukraine (Romania wants to define a place traditionally considered an island as a rock in order to claim more Black Sea oil — Ed.). Another problem is the process of creating a Ukrainian nation along with ethnic minorities. Thus, the Rusyns or Ruthenians in Transcarpathia and neighboring areas of Poland and Slovakia only sometimes consider themselves a separate ethnic group (a singer from Uzhhorod sang “I’m Ukrainian, son of a Rusyn” during the festival’s closing concert). In Yugoslavia, one finds a Rusyn and a Ukrainian television service, along with fifteen Rusyn schools. I hope that the next festival will offer more examples of journalist civic courage.
Maybe it would be worth revising the selection procedures so that obviously unprofessional works could be left out, with the emphasis on the contestants’ quality rather than quantity. In any case, the current approach appears totally unjustifiable. Indeed, this festival attracted contestants from 23 countries, yet there was no creative breakthrough. Suffice it to say that no one was awarded the Grand Prize.
The same was true of the radio programs submitted. They were played by Radio Promin (Echo), and I chanced to listen to one of them, courtesy of FM Radio. It was an orthodox account of Koran postulates and nothing about Moslems in Ukraine (many of whom have problems that merit serious discussion — Ed.). I am not certain if such religious propaganda is in conformity with Ukrainian laws and what that particular program had to do with journalism. Yet even if it was the exception rather than the rule, one ought to reconsider the selection and clearance of programs for the nation’s radio channels.
Of course, the festival’s intrigue was in naming the winners. The Romanian radio program Holiday with Memories under an Olive Tree placed first in its category. In the television nominations the first three prizes were conferred to Mirko Bagataj’s Father Pedro, Apostle of the Dump Folk (Austria), Ludmyla Morozova’s Dorota, FiancОe of Fate (Kharkiv Oblast Television and Radio Company), and Cilla Fejosz’s film, The Keys to the World (Hungary). Not all agreed with this choice. Keys, for example, is an interview with an avant-garde stage director, including scenes from his productions, mostly pantomimes with physically handicapped characters and having no direct bearing on any national theme. The stage director was born in Yugoslavia and currently lives in Paris, planning to return home with his drama company in 2006.
After this film the jury and the audience watched Following the Road of Life Toward Bondage (Novi Sad Studios, Serbia and Montenegro), a documentary saga making good use of archival documents, reliving the tragic lot of Slovaks in Croatia. The soundtrack was in Slovak, with Croatian subtitles, but I didn’t know either of the languages and practically none of the films submitted was accorded an off- screen interpretation. Yet I was impressed by the music, but the film received only a consolation prize.
Kharkiv’s documentary stood out from among the regional studio productions, where such documentaries usually take a couple of days, often budgeted by the crew out of their own almost empty pockets. The Kharkiv production turned out to be a happy exception to the rule. They asked an old cameraman to interrupt his retirement. Ludmyla Morozova, author of the idea, and the film crew were relieved of routine duties for two months. The result was a moving love story about a Polish woman named Dorota and a Ukrainian flying school cadet with the surname of Dolia, literally meaning fate. They both lived during Soviet times, meaning that their personal problems were compounded by ideological ones. Using special affects, the authors made a letter in an envelope shaped like a plane turn into an actual plane keeping the audience’s eyes glued to it from beginning to end.
All told, My Native Land proved a festive and quickly passing occasion. All those present were made welcome in the most scenic spots of Zakarpattia, including Uzhhorod’s famous two- domed Cathedral of the Exaltation of the Cross, the Old Castle and the Architecture Museum, and the unique salt caves at the village of Solotvyno. We were treated to folk songs and dances, as well as to delicious national dishes. However, veteran festival participants agreed that the previous one had a greater impact and was better organized. Somehow none of the oblast radio and television studio managers was in attendance, and our Polish neighbors seemed to have ignored the event. What lent the whole thing a degree of stability was the presence of long-standing sponsors, among them Hungarian and Romanian television and radio companies, and the local SDPU(O) organization. Any process is fraught with crises and difficulties of growing up. Such problems can be overcome provided one embarks on the right path. Be it as it may, this festival serves to improve Ukraine’s international image, probably as much as the World Congress of Ukrainians.
In keeping with an old tradition, the festival ended with a choir singing Many Years. Let us wish My Native Land many happy returns!
OPINIONS
Ivan RYZAK, Chairman of the Transcarpathian Oblast State Administration and Chairman of the Regional Television and Radio Company:
History has taught the people of Zakarpattia to live in peace and harmony, doing their best to attain understanding and uphold mutual respect, considering that this land hosts over thirty ethnic groups.
Being general sponsor of My Native Land, being able to help other such important projects is a very important privilege. It is an important step being taken in supporting the cultural existence of ethnic communities, allowing for their history, traditions, language, education, and culture.
We are proud to know that this festival has been gaining in scope and momentum each year. This one represented practically every regional television and radio company of Ukraine, Lithuania, Slovenia, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, Hungary, Romania, Yugoslavia, Germany, Croatia, and Poland — over 20 countries in all. I am sure that this festival has a great future.
Inna DIDYK, Belarusian poetess, member of the festival’s radio jury, and editor of the Poltava Ltava Regional Television and Radio Company:
It’s my third time at this festival. People in Zakarpattia seem to cultivate a special attitude toward life, a joyous one. Here everyone feels at home.
I am Belarusian and I have spent 15 years in Ukraine; here one can meet people representing a multitude of ethnic groups. I have Slovak, Czech, Romanian, and Yugoslav friends. All such people have their own ethnic world views. This festivals offers an opportunity to establish professional contacts. Of course, one could discuss television and radio schools, but personal contacts come first.
As a member of the jury, I’d like to point out that this time we had quite a few works dealing with religious and cultural topics. People must be longing for good, justice, and spirituality. Many festival participants cried listening to a Uniate Church choir. I also wept.
There are many television portraits and reports submitted, but I wish we had more quality works, since many of the sixty works presented here turned out to be mediocre.
I would also like to stress that this festival is becoming increasingly representative. The first one involved five or six countries, this one has 23, so even at this stage it can be rated as a European festival.
Viktoriya SHAPOSHNYK, editor, Cherkasy Oblast Television and Radio Company:
Only three radio journalists from regional television and radio companies took part in this festival, compared eight in 2002. I think that this festival pays too little attention to radio journalism.
I was practically by myself during all the listening sessions. Only 18 of 61 broadcasts submitted were in Ukrainian. Understanding the rest was difficult for there was no dubbing. Too bad I couldn’t appreciate the [prize-winning] Romanian program.
The radio is something we only hear, but on more than one occasion one had a hard time listening to interviews due to poor technical quality.
I cannot point to any progress in radio journalism, considering the programs submitted to the festival. I liked them better at the previous festival. This time I was lucky to meet with like-minded colleagues from other regions. Some of us have made friends.
Mirko BOGATAJ, President of the European Ethnic Broadcasting Association:
This festival is important in that the programs submitted were products of ethnic minorities, rather than national companies. We have quite enough big-time festivals with all those so-called marginal television companies being pushed to the side of the road, meaning that such small companies badly need an opportunity to communicate and establish contacts. Their journalists are always at a disadvantage. A TV viewer having 20 channels to choose from can make comparisons, of course. He won’t watch low quality programs about ethnic minorities, meaning that we must help improve their quality.
Compared to previous years, we are witness to a better quality. Some of the programs turned out fantastic, including three Ukrainian films, a Dutch and a Swiss program about Romansh helping Jews survive in neutral Switzerland during World War II, displaying utmost civic courage. It’s more important to provide such information than stick to the best-news-worst-news principle. Such examples serve to elevate the national spirit better than all that we-are-best empty phraseology.
