Coats of arms inherited, not invented
Although the Great Coat of Arms the final version of which was produced by the outstanding graphic artist Serhii Yakutovych has been approved by the president and the government, it may well fall victim to Verkhovna Rada politicking.
On July 17 the Cabinet of Ministers of Ukraine approved the draft law “On the Great State Coat of Arms of Ukraine” at an open-door session. A number of prominent Ukrainian artists, including Oleksandr Ivakhnenko (who, unfortunately, died in 2003) and Vitalii Mitchenko, worked on the sketch of one of the most important constitutional symbols of the state. Minister of Culture Vasyl Vovkun placed the responsibility for adding the last touches to the emblem in the hands of Serhii Yakutovych, a graphic artist and author of the Mazepiana graphical cycle.
Yakutovych notes modestly that he would not like his predecessors’ merits to be ascribed to him, for what he had to do was just “reanimate” the emblem’s image.
“I was the last re-animator of my colleagues’ extensive work. There was also a somewhat uneasy situation in terms of ethics, as Oleksandr Ivakhnenko has departed this life,” the artist says. “The Ukrainian state has been in existence for 18 years now but still does not have a Great Coat of Arms. This means the state has failed to map out a clear strategy and policies over all these years. We are still in the making. The other proof of this is that the Lesser Coat of Arms – the tryzub (trident) – was also adopted (in 1992 – Ed.) with great pains.”
The Great Coat of Arms story has been unfolding as follows. One of the proposed versions of the emblem was tentatively approved in 1996, but the competition for the best one, launched by the Ministry of Culture, continued for another 13 years. Last spring, when a Ministry of Culture commission and heraldist historians had examined over 30 suggested sketches of the emblem, they concluded that the version tentatively approved back in 1996 should be accepted after some improvements. It was absolutely adequate and correct from the angle of heraldic canons; it only raised some objections from the viewpoint of artistic appeal. So Yakutovych was assigned the job of improving the artistic qualities of the emblem.
“I have seen myriads of versions,” he told The Day. “There were coal miners with hammers in hand, girls, and all kinds of everything… But all this was artificial because those were pure emblems, not coats of arms.” Yakutovych quotes Yurii Savchuk, a heraldist and historian, author of the description of a Great State Coat of Arms, and chairman of the State Service for Controlling the Traffic of Valuable Cultural Items across the State Border of Ukraine, as saying: “Coats of arms are inherited, not invented.”
“I saw that the image needed to be livened up and stripped of all the unnecessary things. The coat of arms looked a bit weak, and I was to make it look lively and optimistic. It was to look minimalist and, at the same time, not to resemble any other coats of arms. This took one and a half months of exhausting work. It was not easy,” Yakutovych says, recalling his work on the emblem.
“However, this work was very much to the point because I am now illustrating Lina Kostenko’s Berestechko. I looked through all the world heraldry, drew 30 different lions and 60 variants of little Cossacks—almost a hundred all in all,” the artist ironizes. He thus explains his vision of the emblem’s symbols: “Firstly, it must show the unity of Ukraine. All the elements reflect the history of Ukraine’s statehood. There is the crown of Volodymyr the Great on top (in general, the crown is a symbol of independence for any state). Lower is a baroque cartouche that reflects the era of hetmans and baroque, when we continued to build our statehood.
“On the left is a rampant Galician lion wearing the crown of Danylo of Galicia. Before drawing it, I had examined the pictures of all the Galician lions from the 14th century onwards. The lion had to be unique, but I was still in doubt about its image. At last I stood before a mirror in my house at night and understood what kind of a lion should be drawn. It seems to me the lion looks somewhat haughty, snobbish and, at the same time, cheerful, as if he believes in his victory. He is optimistic and full of life power.
“A Zaporozhian Cossack stands on the right. The Cossack and the lion hold our traditional trident, standing on a yellow-blue (like the Ukrainian flag) ribbon. Down below you can see some ears of wheat and a cluster of guelder-rose berries as a symbol of plenty.”
Although Yakutovych is in general satisfied with his work, he fears that the Great Coat of Arms, one of the most important symbols of the state, may be another victim of political struggle. Having passed through two high offices—the president and the cabinet, the coat of arms will be taking its final exam in September at the Verkhovna Rada, where, according to the Constitution of Ukraine, it must be approved by at least two-thirds of all MPs.
“I don’t know if the matter will be brought to its logical end,” Yakutovych confesses. “I think it is quite likely that when the Verkhovna Rada assembles after the recess, it will get down to this question with great zeal and blow it all sky-high. I am afraid our coat of arms will get into a political showdown in the autumn.”
It will be recalled that, along with the Lesser Coat of Arms, the State Flag, and the National Anthem, the Great State Coat of Arms is a symbol of the Ukrainian state. This is stipulated in Article 20 of the Constitution of Ukraine. In particular, this country’s fundamental law sets out that the state symbols “express national mentality, national ideas of a political, or historical nature.”
From this angle, it is small wonder that there is so much fuss over the emblem’s details. Yet, the energy inherent in the historically important symbols and the creative energy of Ivakhnenko, Mitchenko, and the outstanding graphic artist Yakutovych can move even such a mountain as the Ukrainian parliament.
