Falling Skies: Part 2 – In Ukraine, art and beauty endure amid war

KHARKIV, Ukraine —

War turns cities to rubble and words to clichés. The things that feed the heart often give way to things that feed the mouth.

“Now, obviously, there’s more needs in the food, not flowers,” Kharkiv pastor Sergey Tsygankov said, staring at his garden.

Potatoes now stand where rose petals bloomed. But still, bright colors fold out along the edges of his garden, even as the skies above Ukraine’s second-largest city bring the constant threat of Russian attacks.

An unmanned aerial dogfight raged overhead mid-interview with Tsygankov. An interceptor drone moved toward an explosives-packed Russian Shahed drone. The Ukrainian defenses destroyed it before it could reach its target.

“Hallelujah,” Tsygankov said. “That means he’s not going to reach something in Ukraine.”

But the attacks are a routine part of life in Kharkiv. Russian drones often arrive in swarms, forcing Ukrainian air defenses to contend with multiple threats at once.

“So many times a day. Sometimes, many times at night,” Tsygankov said. “When it’s far away, you can hear it, but it’s too far away. You just simply ignore it. We have a lot of troubles and things to take care of. You cannot afford to concentrate on those things.”

That same resilience can be seen at the Kharkiv Zoo, where families and school groups move between exhibits despite the sounds of war.

Twice during an hour at the zoo, acrid smoke poured from flashes of light overhead — reminders that the front line is just 20 miles away from the densely-packed city.

But for many visitors, the danger has become part of daily life.

A teenage boy named Mykhailo noticed the camera and began dancing. Asked whether he was afraid, the 15-year-old said he trusts Ukraine’s air defenses.

At the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion, Mykhailo lived under Russian occupation.

“We all got afraid,” he said. “Because they were pointing guns on us, you know, it was terrifying.”

He said people disappeared without notice.

Now, surrounded by fountains and parks, Mykhailo finds some respite from the war.

“This horrible war that kids are living in this,” he said. “And they tried to think positively, think their thoughts away from the war and concentrate on these beautiful things.”

In Kharkiv, beauty defies despair. One crowded park saw dance classes continue, table tennis matches pummel, as sirens blared in the distance.

To that ominous monotone, Ukrainians offer a melody. The Odesa Philharmonic Orchestra performed at a golf course overlooking the Black Sea in late May.

“When the times are bad, people tend to flock to the arts more,” Hobart Earle, the conductor, said. “But during wartime it’s completely, completely head over foot.”

Among those in the audience were wounded veterans, some tapping the limbs they still had as the orchestra played music from around the world. The performance included Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, whose message Earle said was especially relevant during the war.

“Humanity should be together,” he said.

At Odesa’s ornate opera house, another form of Ukrainian culture confronted the conflict.

A production delved into Ukrainian history, portraying Cossacks struggling for freedom against the Russian Empire.

The opera’s director, Dymtro, said the production reflects the country’s current reality.

“Everything connected to this war,” he said. “They tried to destroy us. We have war, and we also show this dark side of the war.”

For performers, the stage has become a place not only to preserve Ukrainian culture but also to resist the forces threatening it.

“Today’s Ukrainian art is not just art,” opera star Danil said. “This is a weapon against this war and against this enemy. This is our self-identity.”

One of the leading performers, Anna, said the goal is meant to inspire.

“We try to put the joy into the people,” she said, “and give them a will to strive for that victory, for freedom.”

For some Ukrainians, however, the stage has been replaced by the battlefield. Yuri, a former actor, now works as a drone pilot.

“I wanted to come back to this stage and play,” Yuri said. “But now, I am not sure is going to happen.”

He first traded acting for combat with machine guns. Now, he operates drones from a position in southeastern Ukraine.

“With drones, I can really expand my abilities to defend and attack,” he said.

Yuri said he still hopes to return to the theater someday. If he does, he said he wants to tell the story of what Ukrainians experienced during the war — particularly the emotional toll on families.

“I really want to tell what really happened during the war with our people,” he said. “It’s very important.”

Until then, he’ll continue to live it out. He remains focused on the screens in front of him, watching over Ukraine’s battered landscape.

“We only have one wish,” he said. “That we’re going to defend our country. We’re going to win. We have to fight and defend our families, our relatives, our lands.”