I discovered the Polish trio Wernyhora after their participation in the first Upbeat Talent Award, when I was hired to mentor some of the finalists. The Polish trio Wernyhora was assigned to me, and I must say that it was a fortunate occurrence. This allowed me to delve deeper into a part of 20th-century history that is not well-known, through the lens of the musical legacy of one of the threatened minorities in Europe. As they explain in their biography, Wernyhora was a legendary hurdy-gurdy player and Cossack bard who lived in the 18th century in the lands of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth. It was said that he possessed the gift of predicting the future. In his prophecies, he foretold both the downfall and the eventual rebirth of Poland, emphasizing a future marked by brotherly cooperation with Ukraine. They chose the name ‘Wernyhora’ because they are inspired by the musical traditions of the Polish-Ukrainian borderland, which is where they reside in southeastern Poland. Additionally, the name ‘Wernyhora’ resonates with the unique background of the singer, Daria, who is a descendant of the Boykos. The band has released two albums: Bojkowski głos Bieszczadu (2021) and Toloka (2022). The members of Wernyhora are Daria Kosiek (singer), Anna Oklejewicz (vielle and viola da gamba), and Maciej Harna (hurdy-gurdy, arrangements).
Araceli Tzigane: I have some obsessions, one is the language and the culture of the minorities, so I will ask you some questions about this. In the work of Wernyhora, the cultural legacy of the Boykos is essential. They were forcibly expelled from the geographical region where you currently live. Which is their current situation? Is there any place where we can walk by the street and hear the language? If not, is there at least any moment of the year in which there is any celebration, festivity or ritual still remaining from their culture?
Wernyhora: These questions cannot be answered in a single sentence, yet I will endeavour to describe the situation of the Boykos as succinctly as possible. In my view, it’s essential to start with the fact that, around the latter half of the 19th century, when research by various folklorists and ethnographers gained popularity in Central and Eastern Europe, the Boykos began to be identified as highlanders residing in a section of the Eastern Carpathians – roughly from the Solinka River to the Limnyzja River. This area was then part of the Kingdom of Galicia and Lodomeria, itself a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Over time, some ethnographers also started referring to the people living on the southern slopes of the Eastern Carpathians within the then Kingdom of Hungary as the Boykos. This was logical, as the main Carpathian ridge was merely an administrative boundary within the Austro-Hungarian state, allowing highlanders on both sides of the Carpathians to maintain contact, form families, and visit each other. After World War I, the northern part of the area defined by ethnographers as Boykivshchyna became part of the Second Polish Republic. Following World War II, the area was divided by a new border between Poland and the Soviet Union. Most of the region inhabited by the Boykos fell within the borders of the Soviet state. A few dozen villages inhabited by the Boykos became part of Poland. Before the war ended, the communist governments of post-war Poland and Moscow agreed on a mutual population transfer. This transfer, which took place between 1945 and 1946, included the Polish population within the post-war borders of the USSR and the Ukrainian population, including the Boykos, within the borders of post-war Poland.
Approximately 600,000 individuals were displaced from Poland alone in these forced deportations. During this period, many people fled from the forces organizing the deportations, seeking refuge in forests, among other places. Unfortunately, those who managed to avoid exile to the USSR were subjected to another round of deportations in 1947. This time, the communists were more thorough and almost the entire population, about 140,000 people, were displaced, but in this instance, the Ukrainian population, including the Boykos, were relocated to the north and west of Poland. Today, those who identify as and are referred to as the Boykos live in Ukraine, in the Eastern Carpathians in the Lviv, Ivano-Frankivsk, and Zakarpattia oblasts, although a portion of them, those displaced after World War II, also reside in areas now occupied by Russia. The Boykos are considered a regional cultural group (referred to as an ethnographic group in Poland and Ukraine) with distinctive characteristics of material and social culture, and they use the Boyko ethnolect, which most linguists consider a dialect of the Ukrainian language. In the villages they inhabit, their language can still be heard. In places like Turka and Sambir, towns in the Lviv oblast, you can visit museums showcasing Boyko culture. It’s fair to say that Boyko culture still thrives in Ukraine, with many traditional rituals still observed in the villages, including family-related rituals. Moreover, the culture is experiencing a revival; recently, it has even become fashionable. Traditional Boyko ornaments are being revived and incorporated into contemporary design. Restaurants featuring Boyko-inspired cuisine are emerging. Numerous cultural, documentary, and festival activities are also taking place. The Boykos are becoming more prominent. In contemporary Poland, however, the Boykos, as a group, virtually no longer exist. Some, like myself, descendants of those displaced in 1947, retain memories of our Boyko heritage, but it is now virtually impossible to hear Boyko spoken or see Boyko customs practiced here in Poland.
Araceli Tzigane: Apart from Wernyhora, are there more music groups making music of the Rusyn peoples?
Wernyhora: On the Polish folk scene, numerous bands draw inspiration from and incorporate Ukrainian traditional music. This trend has been prevalent for several years. Recently, there’s been a surge in polyphonic singing that mirrors the vocal traditions of northern and central Ukraine. A couple of decades ago, the music of the Ukrainian (Ruthenian) Carpathian highlanders –namely the Lemkos, Boykos, and Hutsuls –gained popularity. It’s worth noting that some Lemkos do not consider themselves Ukrainian. Songs from the Carpathian Mountains are frequently performed by the Orkiestra św. Mikołaja (Orchestra of St. Nicholas) (active since the 1990s), as well as by groups such as Tołhaje, Krajka, Drewutnia and Widymo. In Widymo, our vocalist has previously performed. During the 1960s and 70s, there was a Boyko band called Susidojki in northern Poland, consisting of Boykos who had been relocated from the south of the country.
Araceli Tzigane: What is the knowledge of the Polish and Ukrainian people nowadays about the Rusyn peoples? Is there any interest from the institutions and/or the public in the culture of the minorities?
Wernyhora: Regarding the music of the Ruthenian-Ukrainian communities in the Carpathians, such as the Lemkos, Boykos, and Hutsuls, awareness of these groups is somewhat limited. In Ukraine, these communities are recognised for their cultural uniqueness, yet they are considered part of the Ukrainian nation. There is some awareness of their locations, their historical backgrounds, and their cultural characteristics. Naturally, this general knowledge does include some stereotypes, but there is still a reasonable level of understanding. In Poland, however, the awareness of these groups is quite minimal. During the interwar period, Polish policy aimed to cultivate strong regional identities among the Lemkos, Boykos, and Hutsuls to ‘shield’ them from Ukrainian nationalist influences. However, the war, subsequent deportations, and assimilation efforts followed. It seems that the average Pole has scant knowledge about these groups. They might have encountered some references, but their understanding largely relies on stereotypes rather than factual information. Conversely, among mountain enthusiasts in the Carpathians and some scholars, knowledge is undoubtedly more extensive, though it is not entirely free from stereotypes and exoticisation.
Araceli Tzigane: Have you ever performed in Ukraine? If so, how was it? Do the Ukrainians recognize the music of Wernyhora as related to their culture?
Wernyhora: Unfortunately, Wernyhora has not yet had the opportunity to perform in Ukraine. Primarily, this is due to the ongoing brutal Russian assault. Our manager is making efforts to arrange performances there, but naturally, it is quite challenging. Nonetheless, Ukrainian listeners have had the chance to become acquainted with our music. On one hand, some of our songs have been played on Radio Kultura in Kyiv. On the other, many of our concerts in Poland are attended by Ukrainians who are either migrants or war refugees. It is not unusual for them to approach us after a performance to express their gratitude for what we contribute to Ukrainian culture. They recognise our music as a part of their cultural heritage, yet many of our songs are entirely new to them; they have never heard them before. This is likely because many of our tracks are based on ancient folklore recordings, and our Maciej, who handles the arrangements, adds a unique sound to them.
Araceli Tzigane: I am used to dealing with minority cultures. I am already very thrilled with artists that work in this, like Wernyhora. I think it can be an added challenge. What would you say to colleagues in the music scene, who are trying to develop an artistic project related to another minority culture?
Wernyhora: In our field, which encompasses folk and world music, it’s inevitable to encounter the music of various minority groups, some of whom may not always have the freedom to express their culture openly. Artists who delve into the musical traditions of these groups present a compelling case. Nonetheless, it poses a significant challenge, particularly for those who are exploring a heritage that isn’t their own. Engaging with such music demands considerable energy, commitment, and a deep understanding of the cultural context in which the music originated. For artists who belong to the minority groups they represent, immersing themselves in their own traditions might not seem as challenging. However, they shoulder a great responsibility; their singing, their music, and their storytelling become integral to the culture they represent. They essentially become its ambassadors, a role that, as we know, carries serious responsibilities. Take our Daria, for example, who encouraged our group to explore the musical heritage of her own background, a community that once lived in our region. She has become not only our guide to the Boyko heritage but also an ambassador for the Boyko cause in Poland.
Araceli Tzigane: This question is specifically for Daria. How have you learned the way of singing you perform?
Wernyhora: That’s a challenging question. Certainly, it was a gradual process. Firstly, I must mention that although I grew up surrounded by mainly Ukrainian music from a young age, I never attended a formal music school. However, I’ve always had a passion for singing. During my youth, I sang in a school band and a church choir, which were more aligned with classical, almost academic singing styles. Singing was a constant presence at gatherings of the Ukrainian youth in my community. Songs, often with traditional roots, featured prominently at almost every gathering. Singing has always been, and continues to be, a unifying and community-building activity for the Ukrainian community in Poland. As I grew older, I encountered music performed in a more raw style by groups like Drevo, which was a revelation to my generation and set the gold standard for Ukrainian vocal art. Eventually, I had the opportunity to participate in workshops run by members of this band, focusing on polyphonic singing. However, I soon realised that while polyphony is a significant part of the Ukrainian musical heritage, it wasn’t as prevalent in the Carpathian region, where my roots are. This led me to diverge slightly from polyphony to explore my own path and listen to the singing styles from my home region. Have I succeeded? I’m not sure, but I’ve been told that I have developed a unique singing style. If asked to teach it, I doubt I could, as my singing style – how it emerges and sounds – is not something I learned in a traditional sense. It is deeply rooted in my emotions and heritage. Singing in Ukrainian, especially songs from the Boyko tradition, allows me to connect deeply with my ancestors’ world. I wouldn’t know how to teach this; it’s a personal journey. Sometimes people ask why I don’t sing much in Polish. It’s not out of preference; rather, I find it more challenging to connect with and convey the emotional depth of Polish-language songs – they don’t feel entirely mine. Ukrainian songs resonate with me on a much deeper level.
From:
https://worldmusiccentral.org/2024/07/13/a-conversation-with-polish-trio-wernyhora-keepers-of-the-boykos-musical-legacy/
