Kazymyr Malevych, one of the most renowned avant-garde artists and Kyiv native, loved embroidery since childhood and considered folk artisans his first teachers. In 1915, he joined the creative workshop in Verbivka, Cherkasy Oblast, at the invitation of artist Nataliia Davydova. The workshop was led by the legendary Oleksandra Ekster. It was for her that Malevych created the sketch Suprematist Composition, later embroidered by the craftswomen of Verbivka.

On November 6, 1915, the artists’ works were presented to the public. Among 280 exhibits, the pillow with its colorful geometric embroidery drew particular attention. Instead of traditional flowers or birds, it depicted intersecting abstract shapes in green, black, blue, and orange. For the audience, it was a revelation: familiar folk embroidery had suddenly turned into a manifesto of a new art — Suprematism.

Together with Etnodim, we have recreated the pillow exactly as it was. Incidentally, Malevych later created a painting based on the same composition — today it is part of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice. Take a look — isn’t it stunning?

Although Paradzhanov was an Armenian born in Georgia, he called Ukraine his spiritual homeland. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors was his ode to Ukrainian culture.

The film’s release — an adaptation of Mykhailo Kotsiubynskyi’s novella — was an event of international significance. Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors still appears on recommended watching lists at leading universities worldwide for students wishing to better understand Ukrainian culture.

This revelatory film broke the cinematic mold of the time. Where there had once been literalness, there was now a bare minimum of words and an emphasis on feeling through form. Where there had once been stillness, the camera became mobile — a full participant of the action. And folklore, previously decorative, became the organic backdrop of the story.

The enormous popularity of Shadows…, visually saturated with Hutsul culture, naturally displeased Soviet authorities. But because of Kotsiubynskyi’s anniversary the film could not be pulled from the cinemas. The Soviet State Committee for Cinematography asked Paradzhanov to produce a Russian-language version of the film — he refused categorically.

The film collected over 30 international awards and ranks first in the Dovzhenko Centre’s list of the 100 greatest films in the history of Ukrainian cinema.

A silent film, originally commissioned as a propaganda piece to support the Soviet collectivization of agriculture, turned out as a lyrical poem instead. It tells the tragedy of a person’s separation from their land through images and metaphors: shots of ripe apples, sunflowers, wrinkles on peasants’ faces, bare feet. A world where rhythm outweighs narrative. A true cultural treasure.

The film did not serve the Party — it became its problem. Too mystical, non-ideological, and somber. Too Ukrainian. Within the first weeks after its release, the film was banned.

But the world saw Earth differently: it was screened in Paris, New York, and Berlin. In 1958, Dovzhenko’s work was included in the list of the 12 greatest films in cinema history according to critics in Brussels.

Earth became the benchmark of visual thinking and poetic montage, and Dovzhenko — a master of global renown.

Yurii Illienko’s thesis film, Farewell, Doves, won the prize for best cinematography at the Locarno International Film Festival, and his cinematography of Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors helped spark a true revolution in Soviet cinematic imagery. Upon this success, Illienko decided to transition to creating auteur cinema.

His most important directorial achievement is The White Bird with the Black Mark. The story of brothers who end up on opposite sides of the conflict (in the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, in the Red Army, and in civilian life) is considered the culmination of Ukrainian poetic cinema. The film’s visual beauty sharply contrasts with the drama of its plot and at the same time amplifies it. Illienko moved beyond socialist realism: he openly depicted famine in Ukraine, portrayed UIA fighters as real people with convictions rather than as caricatured criminals, and questioned the notion of unanimous support for the USSR. After the tightening of censorship in the 1970s, it would have been impossible to make a piece like The White Bird with the Black Mark, but Illienko was ahead of his time, and made a film that remains relevant today.

Even in times when our language was banned, symbols erased, and stories censored, our cinema continued to speak. Eventually it developed its own recognizable style.

The most renowned Ukrainian filmmakers created unconventional films. They offered new sensations and perspectives through frames and angles. Oleksandr Dovzhenko’s Earth became a visual poem about humanity’s connection to nature and previous generations. In Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Serhii Paradzhanov pushed for a rethinking of our folklore in art. And Yurii Illienko’s The White Bird with the Black Mark showed how war penetrates the most intimate parts of life — family, faith, home — leaving behind deep ruptures.

Here, you will learn a little more about Ukrainian films that were once groundbreaking discoveries for the entire world. Here, you will only find masterpieces.