The Ukrainian Institute: Where Cultural Exchange Meets Defiance Against Invasion

The Ukrainian Institute of America offers a wealth of resources and educational programming dedicated to cultural exchange, serving as a key voice in representing the Ukrainian diaspora. In the 2.5 years since Russian President Vladimir Putin launched his full-scale invasion—he’s referred to it as a “special military operation” to defend Russian-controlled territories— of Ukraine in February 2022, the organization has served as a lifeline, emphasizing the value and importance of the country’s right to exist.

The nonprofit, founded in 1948, defines its “fundamental purpose” as an opportunity to “develop and promote through educational, professional and social activities a greater awareness, understanding, knowledge and appreciation in the United States of the traditional and contemporary art, literature, music, culture, history and traditions of Ukraine, as revealed through its people, both in Ukraine and abroad.”

To that end, the organization succeeds as the most visible—and perhaps the most vital—source of learning, connection, and camaraderie for Ukrainians and those who support them and are eager to learn more about a country irrevocably shaped by Russia and the former Soviet Union’s sphere of influence. My own understanding of Ukraine’s history and future was largely formed due to my own interest in the Holodomor, the historic famine of the 1930s that Soviet authorities and Communist Party members denied was taking place, even going so far as to obstruct and deny humanitarian aid. The Euromaidan and the annexation of Crimea were of course on mty radar as well but I could never, as an outside observer, gain a deeper comprehension of these subjects without extensive reading and educational initiatives I’ve had the privilege of enjoying and taking part in while covering the Institute.

History offers a wealth of information about the resilience of the Ukrainian people but much of it, at least to Westerners, is draped in palpable sadness and rather morose coverage since the war began. These deficits are a significant matter the Institute addresses, spying a void and filling it instead with symbols of Ukrainian joy and a vision for the future that takes the human condition into account.

The Institute’s mandate is “tightly defined,” said President Kathy L. Nalywajko during a recent interview that gave me, AFPC-USA Chairwoman Nancy Prager Kamel, and our intern, Isabella Pfaff, a chance to tour the building’s many ornate and carefully maintained rooms and bear witness to a constellation of Ukrainian contributions. Nalywajko noted that the Institute is the only non-governmental “special member” of the Ukrainian Network of Integrity and Compliance (UNIC), which promotes responsible business practices and backs the implementation of “integrity standards in accordance with the best international practices.”

“Historically, [the Institute] worked with other organizations at the beginning who provided humanitarian relief,” Nalywajko, adding that it ultimately “chose to amend its articles of incorporation to allow fundraising for humanitarian purposes.” The organization has no affiliation with the federal government, she said, though if it did, it would equal “more funding and sponsors.” However, she observed that governments are “more bureaucratic so there’s a tradeoff.”

The building itself, the former Fletcher-Sinclair mansion, dates back to 1898 and is located in the heart of "Museum Mile," surrounded by cultural landmarks like the Guggenheim, the Frick Collection, and directly across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art at the southeast corner of 79th Street and Fifth Avenue. Thanks to banker and railroad investor Isaac Fletcher, the renowned architect C.P.H. Gilbert was commissioned to design a house modeled after William K. Vanderbilt’s neo-Loire Valley chateau on the property that was once the Lenox farm. Eventually, Fletcher hired Jean Francois Raffaelli to paint a portrait of it that now, along with Fletcher’s considerable art collection, hangs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Later, Harry F. Sinclair, founder of the Sinclair Oil Company, in 1920 and sold it in 1930 to Augustus Van Horne Stuyvesant, Jr. The Institute itself was born in 1948, established by William Dzus, the inventor and owner of the Dzus Fastener Company based in West Islip, Long Island, New York. However, at the time, the organization was headquartered in the Parkwood Mansion in West Islip. Dzus recruited Francis Clarke, treasurer of the Dzus Fastener Company, to find the Institute a new home in New York City, an action that ultimately led to the purchase of the Fletcher-Sinclair mansion.

“Bird of Light”

The building is richly preserved, an architectural marvel that houses numerous art installations, particularly an artwork known as the “Bird of Light,” a symbol of peace and harmony amid the ongoing destruction in the “breadbasket of Europe.” The mural, a collaboration between the Bird of Light Foundation and Artolution, an initiative dedicated to creative and artistic expression to aid communities experiencing crises. It is impossible  not to be struck by the mural’s sheer power, a splash of color situated on the first landing of a grand staircase supported by dreams of freedom and plentiful grain beneath clear blue skies. The artwork drew my attention during prior visits to the Institute, where I’ve taken advantage of educational opportunities.

And then, of course, there’s "The Pysanka: A Symbol of Hope,” an art installation with a rich story of its own. The Ukrainian Easter egg or pysanka (from the word “pysaty” or “to write”) originally symbolized the sun—a representation best seen in egg yolk. The pysanka is also widely recognized as a symbol of renewal and life, representing spring and the earth's rejuvenation after winter. The project is the brainchild of ethnographer and folk artist Sofika Zielyk, who has said the pysanka “served to reassure people that their world would continue to exist.”

Zielyk embraced the pysanka  as a symbolic weapon against Russian aggression. A call was put out through social media, inviting people of all ages and backgrounds—artists and non-artists, Ukrainians and non-Ukrainians—to create a pysanka using traditional motifs and techniques. These contributions were then sent to the Institute to be included in a collective display and installation, which “constantly evolves and expands as more and more eggs are received and added to the exhibit.” 

“The Pysanka: A Symbol of Hope”

Of particular note is the installation’s physical framework. Pysanky are arranged haphazardly on a coarse burlap cloth that drapes over a substantial wooden stand, emphasizing its deep connection to the earth. In Ukrainian mythology, the earth-soil holds profound significance, as reflected in the ancient blessing: “Be healthy as water and rich as the earth.” The intentionally unstructured placement of these pysanky ensures that no single artist-participant or individual egg is singled out. Instead, it highlights the power in unity—a timeless, cultural resilience. One section of the exhibition includes a rushnyk, or ritual cloth, long considered to ward off evil.

Additionally, rich green Barvinok (periwinkle) is presented, signifying eternal life. Kalyna (guelder rose), with its vibrant red berries, embodies beauty. Pshenytsya (wheat stalk) reflects Ukraine's role as Europe’s breadbasket. A candle adorned with a red ribbon pays tribute to all the lives, both military and civilian, lost during the war. According to Ukrainian mythology, the color red is believed to shield these souls from malevolent forces. The plan is to eventually bring all the decorated eggs to Ukraine, where they will be used in rituals as old as the ancestors who devised them.

None of this could be possible without the concerted efforts of the Institute’s staff; Nalywajko herself, whose work with the organization spans more than two decades, is a fine example of the representative voice the Ukrainian people need right now during a time of war and strife. As we walked through each splendid room, I was struck by the exquisite detail of the wall moldings and chandeliers that hang overhead, each one a piece of a larger story that eventually gave us the building, this beacon of hope, that New York’s Ukrainian community and others, whether near or far, have passed through. I smiled during the tour as I thought of how most of the people who walk in have never seen the building’s original kitchen or even the dumbwaiter, this artifact that once conveyed food and drink from one story to the next.

The atmosphere, for all the Institute represents, is never somber. A visit to the Institute is rewarding for many reasons, though perhaps the most important, the one that stands above all others, is the opportunity to witness Ukrainian triumph in all its forms. This joyousness, this movement to honor a people and their culture, stands in stark contrast to Putin’s regime, and it is the Institute’s greatest success.