Lesya Bablyak on Painting Memory, Trauma, and Resilience

Lesya Bablyak is a Ukrainian freelance artist born in Lviv in 1977 and now based in Kyiv. Trained at the Lviv Ivana Trusha College of Decorative and Applied Arts and the Lviv Academy of Arts, she works in painting and graphic art. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion, her blue-and-yellow wartime series has documented trauma, patriotism, displacement, memory, and civilian resilience, later giving way to restorative floral imagery rooted in home, survival, colour, witness, and public remembrance.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen interviews Lesya Bablyak, a Ukrainian artist whose work transformed after Russia’s full-scale invasion. Formerly focused on commercial landscapes, she shifted to emotionally charged depictions of people, war, and national identity. Her “Blue and Yellow Album” documents trauma and resilience, while later floral works reflect recovery. Bablyak discusses artistic communities in Lviv and Kyiv, international reception, and her decision to remain in Ukraine, emphasizing memory, witness, and cultural continuity.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: How did your work come to be featured at the event today?

Lesya Bablyak: I met the owners during my solo exhibition, Living Life, at the Museum of Ukrainian Diaspora in Kyiv. They invited me to present my art here in their office and to promote it among their clients.

Jacobsen: What do these pieces express today?

Bablyak: There are two different series, but they are closely connected. The first is called the Blue and Yellow Album. The works use the blue and yellow colours of the Ukrainian flag. This series includes more than 200 paintings, created over two and a half years after the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

After our village near Kyiv was occupied, we moved to Lviv. There, I had the opportunity to create my own art space and began working in larger formats. I tried to paint every moment and every disaster I heard about through the news, social media, or neighbours from my village.

After two and a half years, I became mentally exhausted and needed rest. We returned to our house, which had been damaged by a Russian bomb, and began rebuilding it. In my yard, I started a new series based on flowers, trees, and everything around me. It became a way to escape the news.

By 2025, I understood that I wanted to stay in Ukraine. As a woman, I could have left, but I chose to remain. I want to be an artist here. I do not want to start my life again somewhere else. Since the beginning of the war, I have felt a deeper love for my country than ever before. When I return to Ukraine, to my home, I feel truly happy.

Jacobsen: It was a year of painting. Despite decades of change, the fundamentals of what defines Lviv’s and Kyiv’s art scenes have remained distinct. What are the core differences between them?

Bablyak: For me, Lviv is my hometown. I was born there and studied at the Lviv College of Art, and later at the Lviv National Academy of Arts. Most of my close friends are from my student years, and they are all artists. I have a strong community in Lviv, with friends working across different art forms.

However, after about 25 years living in Kyiv, I feel more connected to it. Kyiv is more open and accessible to people from different regions. Lviv used to feel more closed, and it was difficult for people from other parts of Ukraine to integrate into the local community.

Since the full-scale invasion, many people from eastern, southern, and northern Ukraine have moved to Lviv. This has changed the city. Now you see not only western Ukraine, but a broader mix of Ukrainian identities. I think this is very positive.

In terms of art, there have historically been different schools. Kyiv’s академія emphasized a more realist tradition, while the Lviv academy was more decorative and stylistically expressive. Today, these traditions are blending through exchanges, galleries, and artist mobility across the country.

Lviv has recently developed more art spaces, partly due to its relative safety during the war. Over the past three to four years, many new galleries have opened, offering more opportunities to exhibit work, including large-scale exhibitions.

In Kyiv, many national museums evacuated their collections for protection. As a result, these spaces are sometimes used for contemporary exhibitions. This also creates opportunities for artists to show their work and engage with others, although large exhibition spaces remain limited.

Jacobsen: Did the war, particularly the full-scale invasion, change your work habits and the visual themes of your art?

Bablyak: Yes, absolutely.

Jacobsen: How did your work habits and themes change?

Bablyak: Before the war, I painted landscapes and flowers. It was largely commercial work, and my main motivation was commercial as well.

When the war began, I shifted to painting people. For me, the war is about people, the victims and those responsible for it. I developed a strong sense of patriotism over the past several years, and I try to express that in my work. Not because it is popular, but because it is something I genuinely feel.

When I exhibit abroad, in France, the United States, and Great Britain, I pay close attention to how audiences respond to my work.

Jacobsen: What unusual interpretations or emotional responses have people shared with you that you did not expect?

Bablyak: Many of these responses come from international audiences. Some of my wartime paintings depict very difficult scenes. One painting was based on events in Mariupol, showing three young girls who did not understand what was happening. For them, it seemed like a game, it was the first day of the invasion. Their parents prepared food outside their building and took a photograph. Within two weeks, all three girls were killed.

One woman in the United States wanted to purchase this painting. I wrote to her and explained its meaning, and I told her she should consider carefully whether she wanted such an image in her home. She replied that she has three daughters and wants them to understand the reality of war.

In fact, Ukrainian collectors rarely buy this series; most buyers are from abroad. This sometimes surprises me. People often choose the most difficult works.

Jacobsen: What do you hope people take away from your art?

Bablyak: At the beginning of the war, when I was in Lviv, all galleries were closed. I continued painting, and eventually one gallery contacted me to organize an exhibition. At that time, many people from across Ukraine were in Lviv.

I noticed that visitors were looking for images connected to their own cities. Someone from Kharkiv wanted to see Kharkiv; someone from Mariupol asked if I had painted Mariupol. People wanted their experiences and their losses to be remembered, their cities, their families, that period of time.

This response was especially strong among older visitors. Younger people tended to move through the exhibition more quickly and engage less deeply.

Jacobsen: Thank you very much for the opportunity and your time, Lesya.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen is a blogger on Vocal with more than 200 publications on the platform. He is the Founder and Publisher of In-Sight Publishing (ISBN: 978–1–0692343; 978–1–0673505) and Editor-in-Chief of In-Sight: Interviews (ISSN: 2369–6885). He writes for International Policy Digest (ISSN: 2332–9416), The Humanist (Print: ISSN, 0018–7399; Online: ISSN, 2163–3576), Basic Income Earth Network (UK Registered Charity 1177066), Humanist Perspectives (ISSN: 1719–6337), A Further Inquiry (SubStack), Vocal, Medium, The Good Men Project, The New Enlightenment Project, The Washington Outsider, rabble.ca, and other media. His bibliography index can be found via the Jacobsen Bank at In-Sight Publishing, comprising more than 10,000 articles, interviews, and republications across more than 200 outlets. He has served in national and international leadership roles within humanist and media organizations, held several academic fellowships, and currently serves on several boards. He is a member in good standing in numerous media organizations, including the Canadian Association of Journalists, PEN Canada (CRA: 88916 2541 RR0001), Reporters Without Borders (SIREN: 343 684 221/SIRET: 343 684 221 00041/EIN: 20–0708028), and others.