Kateryna Suprun
(Picture: Handout)I always knew that I wanted to take the music of Ukraine to an audience around the world, but I never expected it to take on such meaning. Since the Russian invasion of my country on February 24 this year, music has become a frontline for me and many other Ukrainian musicians - I don’t know how to fight with guns, but I know I can make a difference by playing.
For me, this is now my life mission, to fight a cultural war, and make sure that people keep what is happening in Ukraine at the front of their minds. It is part of why I joined the Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra, which is performing as part of the BBC Proms at the Royal Albert Hall on Sunday. But also - and it sounds strange to say it - when we are playing together on stage, it is one time I can still feel happy. The beautiful music, and uniting with fellow musicians, is amazing.
I left my home in Ukraine on the day that war broke out, fleeing my home with my two-year-old daughter, Mia.
We had woken that morning at 4am to the sound of sirens. I was so scared, and Mia was crying. The whole country went into shock, as we had seen the situation developing, but never thought it would come to this - this is 2022, wars aren’t meant to happen.
As a family we discussed what to do. My husband Paul Manandise didn’t have to remain, as he has lived in Ukraine for seven years, but is actually French. But he said that the country is now deep in his heart and staying to help was the right thing to do. I wanted to get my daughter away from the danger and by mid-afternoon I accepted the solution was to leave.
I packed a few clothes, documents, and my viola, and we shared a car with a friend and her two cats. For two days we drove towards the border with Poland, one phone open on google maps, one on the news, so we could adjust our route to avoid the trouble, and we watched with horror at what was happening to our beautiful country.
It took us another two days to do the last 3km, as there were so many people also trying to leave, both in cars and on foot. But there was a strong sense of community within the terrible situation, with people sharing food, and local villagers bringing water. My daughter didn’t cry once – thank you Peppa Pig!
Once across the border we went to Berlin, to stay with a kind friend, but the early days were difficult. In the beginning I couldn’t play. I would wake up every day at 4am, remembering what had happened, get my phone out and read the news. Every night before I went to sleep I would pray for a Ukraine without sirens or bombs, without killings.
My mum and other family who could, joined us, but the men had to stay. With childcare help, I started to play my viola again and wanted to work. I began playing with other women whose husbands had stayed behind, and slowly but surely we begun to put on concerts. We had help from foundations who supplied beautiful instruments for us, and as programme director, I championed Ukrainian composers.
Ukrainian music is the best in the world in my opinion! We have great composers such as Boris Lyatoshinsky, Vasily Barvinsky, Valentin Silvestrov and Evgeny Stankovich and many others. Playing music became our cultural front, and while this was very hard for us, when we played on big stages, we began to feel a little bit of happiness for the first time in months.
Then I got a call about the Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra and of course I said yes straightaway. It is an incredible project to be part of, with 75 of the best musicians from Ukraine on one stage, under the instruction of the beautiful, talented Canadian-Ukrainian conductor, Keri-Lynn Wilson. We have become like a family and our chemistry when we play together is amazing.
Until now I had only been able to live one day at a time. With the upcoming orchestra tour - after our appearance at the Proms we will travel on to Munich and on across Europe before visiting America - I feel like I can at least look ahead for a month. Walking out on stage on Sunday at the Royal Albert Hall will be an incredible, touching, emotional moment, and I think for the concert we will all feel very happy.
But this is not normal life, it is just that we don’t have a choice. We have to continue as best as we can. People who left Ukraine have two lives - one before in our beautiful country without war, and now we have this other life, when really what we want is to go back home and celebrate the end of the war.
It needs to be clear that no one is squashing our spirits. We are fighting these awful times as musicians, and like every Ukrainian we are finding our way to contribute and move forward.
We are not the only ones fighting on a cultural front. My husband, who moved to Lviv, is a famous singer, but he is focused on working as a volunteer to support soldiers. At the same time, he uses music and the internet to draw attention to the country’s plight.
I made the decision to go back and visit him in May for three days, which was dangerous and emotional, and sights such as a train with a Ukrainian flag made me cry. Lviv had so far avoided attack, but I am aware nowhere is safe. Bombs fly into the middle of cities and children are killed without warning. Hearing the siren again was a strange feeling, but it was inspiring to see people continuing to live. People have pulled together, really together – a positive from an awful thing.
And we hope that the Ukrainian Freedom Orchestra is a positive from it too, that the pleasure we get from playing, also passes to the audience, and they can appreciate what Ukraine has to offer, and remember us in their prayers. I was proud to be a musician before the war, but this is another level, this is another story, and I hope eventually it has a happy ending.
