Dispatch from Lviv: The City that Became a ‘Cultural Fortress’

This article was first published by FRIEZE.

Lviv, the westernmost major city in Ukraine and a relative safe haven far from the eastern front, has become a sort of cultural fortress for a nation at war. Church windows are covered in thick plywood and the statues on the facade of Lviv National Opera are wrapped in black plastic; the image of a city wound down in a defensive crouch. Galleries like The Naked Room in Kyiv have transferred their permanent collections to the region for safekeeping. The Kharkiv School of Architecture has also moved its entire campus into the cafeteria building of the Lviv National Academy of Arts (LNAA). Although existential questions are less urgent in Lviv than in many other parts of the nation, the city’s art institutions must constantly adapt to the shifting realities of life during wartime, a process that is both exhausting and catalytic for the city’s creative scene.

In the first two months of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, almost all of Lviv’s cultural institutions canceled their regular programming and reengineered themselves for more utilitarian functions. Ya Gallery, a contemporary art space in a belle-époque apartment complex, closed to the public to house artists fleeing from the east; people slept on the floor and lit fires in an ornamental ceramic oven. The founder, Pavlo Gudimov, jokingly told me that the former residence was finally being used for its original purpose. As the Russian advance was pushed back to the east, many creative professionals in Lviv returned to work with an expanded sense of purpose. Now, in addition to his curatorial duties, Gudimov organizes tours for resettled Ukrainians to enjoy the city’s sprawling parks and iconic Austro-Hungarian architecture.