Kateryna Kulay: "Here, a museum worker's salary is 6,700 hryvnias before taxes"

Kateryna Kulay, director of the Odesa National Art Museum, speaks candidly about expanding the collection in the absence of government acquisitions, preserving the legacy of Oleksandr Roytburd, and saving private collections from being scattered. She discusses the struggle against the “Catherine” narrative in Odesa, the search for common ground with the business community and the government, and how to overcome the staffing crisis in a situation where museum professionals in Ukraine are forced to hold down three jobs. 

Let’s start with the philosophical questions we so often ask ourselves during times of crisis: What is the meaning of life, and what is love? Have you found the answers for yourself?

We do indeed always return to these eternal and complex questions during times of psychological crisis, which I, too, have experienced several times in my life. And the first thing that comes to mind is this: the meaning of life is, most likely, finding the cause you’re passionate about. When you feel that what you’re doing truly drives you—unconditionally. Without conditions for success, without conditions regarding who’s by your side, without any “ifs.” All that is secondary. And we’re constantly on this quest: in our youth, middle age, and old age. I don’t know how I’d answer this question in 20 or 30 years, but I feel that the essence won’t change.

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Kateryna Kulay celebrates her birthday at a museum. PHOTO: Kateryna Kulay’s Facebook

And love is that feeling you have when you’re doing the work you’ve found to give meaning to your life. For me, it’s all very interconnected.

I just remembered how, at Oleksandr Roitburd’s funeral, the late Father Oleksandr Chumakov noted: Roitburd had always been an atheist, but shortly before his death, he experienced and felt love, because there is love in God. Everyone has their own unique understanding of these concepts, but for me, this is what we live by and what guides our choices.

You speak openly not only about your successes but also about your mistakes or unfinished projects. What negative experiences can you share that might serve as a lesson for others?

Because of perfectionist tendencies, you constantly demand more of yourself. When I look back at the day, I always see more that’s left undone than what’s been accomplished.

Within the museum, we have what we call “color-based” management, where each person reports to several departments. Our employees are flexible; they quickly switch between tasks. On the one hand, it’s interesting; on the other, it creates chaos, is exhausting, and people burn out quickly.

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Kateryna Kulay with museum staff. PHOTO: Kateryna Kulay’s Facebook

When I became director, I had a pipe dream: there would be no burnout in my team and no mass layoffs! And yet, this spring, nine people left the museum.

I’m not falling into despair, and I don’t blame myself alone: there’s an explanation for everything—times are tough, and people leave for very different reasons. This is a widespread crisis of human capital in the country. When I see colleagues in the departments getting discouraged by this, I go up to them and say, “Friends, this is happening everywhere. We have to hang in there.”

Right now, we’re working on a short-term basis: a week, two weeks, a month, or on a specific project. Of course, we dream of what the museum will be like in ten or 100 years, but we’re focusing on the results we can achieve here and now.

What annoys you the most about the government’s cultural policy? What, in your opinion, should be changed at the legislative or systemic level?

Personally, I feel there’s a lack of integration of culture into all other spheres in Ukraine. Culture is the foundation of everything: from energy to sales. From the podium, we hear: “The issue of culture is a matter of national security.” But one thought that’s constantly on my mind is: what should I bring up when I meet with a governor or mayor so that they’d be interested in talking to me for even three minutes? What do I need to say to get them interested in a museum?

I lack an understanding of exactly where and how museums can be equal partners. I don’t want to walk into offices feeling angry or from the position of a victim who has to constantly ask, ask, and ask for something. I dream that we’ll be capable of having the museum seen as an equal player, with our opinions and concerns taken into account.

Recently, after the KMBS off-site module in Lviv, we spoke with Andriy Sadovyi. The policies he has been pursuing for years show consistency, and there is a culture of support there. I thanked him for supporting Roitburd during the rallies, for restoring the Shukhevych Museum, and for the “Unbroken” project. By the way, we had a young man at our interview who underwent art therapy during his rehabilitation at “Unbroken,” became fascinated with art, is already studying, and now dreams of becoming an artist!

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An exhibition of paintings from the Odessa Art Museum in Lviv. PHOTO: Kateryna Kulay’s Facebook

I asked Sadovyi what approach to take when meeting with mayors. His first response was an invitation to discuss it over a cup of coffee in Odesa. In Lviv, high competition drives quality upward, and the infrastructure is already in place. We’re sorely lacking that in Odesa.

Roitburd became a deputy specifically to attract more resources for the museum and to convey the importance of Ukrainian cultural institutions’ work from a higher level. He built relationships with many officials and brought them into the museum. But most of the agreements had no legal force. When the people in power changed, we lost all that again. We lack consistency. Recently, we were developing a development strategy for Odesa, and when I started asking, “Where’s culture?” they replied, “The EU doesn’t give money for culture.” If we had made this a priority and explained why, things would look different.

As far as I know, the museum continues to expand its collection, despite everything. How is that happening now?

“Despite everything”—that sounds great! As Roitburd said in one of his interviews, we might soon be marking a sad anniversary—more than 35 years since the last government purchase. That was in 1989. Since then, the collection has been expanded through donations. We received nearly 700 works thanks to Oleksandr Roitburd, from his own collection and using funds from his parliamentary endowment.

We are now looking for opportunities to acquire war art, starting from 2014. Why? So that we’ll have something to tell future generations about our time. Our museum has almost no material on World War I or World War II—just a few landscapes, and that’s it! We lack works through which to tell the story of that era. That is why we now realize even more strongly the importance of acquiring contemporary art from wartime periods.

We also have a huge “wish list” of gaps to fill: the 1960s and 1970s (Odessa nonconformism) and the early 20th-century avant-garde. Recently, Valery Basanets donated some incredible works to the museum. They are very valuable, created during a period of depression following his father’s death; they are dark and very different from his usually light-colored works. Viktor Marynyuk also donated some works. 

We have now received a grant to study works by artists from recent years that have already been added to the museum’s collection.

There are many older collectors in Odesa whose collections may be dispersed. Take Alexander Friedman, for example. They are concerned about the fate of their exhibits. Is the museum ready to accept such collections?

This is a complex issue. But fundamentally, we would be more than happy to accept into our collection what Odessa collectors possess. If we’re talking about a purchase, we’re ready to discuss it and seek funding, though we can’t guarantee 100% payment right away. If the items are donated, there are no legal obstacles—everything is processed in accordance with the law.

Our main problem is a lack of space. But if I had a legal document confirming a collector’s intention to donate the works to the museum, I would approach the authorities or patrons with an ironclad argument: “Look, we’re being entrusted with this legacy—give us the space!”

If collectors are open to dialogue, we’re ready to explore various arrangements. All we need is their trust.

Why is there still no systematic state policy in Ukraine to support elderly artists or museum professionals who live in poverty or suffer from illness?

We always rush to help when we hear about someone in need. But as for why there is no state policy—I can’t speak for the government. As a museum, we helped Uta Kilter digitize her archive, raised funds, and organized fundraisers. My colleague periodically supports her personally. 

The same problem exists among educators and scholars. A museum has its own functions, and caring for artists is an entirely different matter.

Here, a museum employee’s base salary is 6,700 hryvnias before taxes. At most, we add a bonus for heavy workloads, so a person takes home 9,000–10,000. All our young staff members work two or three jobs to pay their rent. More than once, employees have sat in my office in tears, saying, “Katya, I don’t want to leave the museum, but I can’t live like this anymore.”

People advise me to set up a Fund to Support Museum Workers. But even back in Roitburd’s time, when we were raising funds to purchase artworks, digitize collections, or carry out renovations, the hardest part of fundraising was securing support specifically for staff. Donors are reluctant to give money “for salaries.” This is a huge problem facing society as a whole.

In recent months, the museum has acquired and received as gifts two more works by Oleksandr Roitburd. Why is it so important to you to have the largest collection of his works? And how do you respond to the latest waves of “black PR” and attacks on his name?

Sasha was an outstanding artist and patron; his works are in museums around the world, but what matters most is his profound impact on our institution. Having the largest collection of Roitburd’s works is our deliberate goal, and his works will continue to tell future generations many stories.

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Alexander Roitburd’s work “Self-Portrait as Pierrot.” PHOTO: Kateryna Kulay’s Facebook

As for the latest smear campaigns, interviews, or posts—for our team, each one is a painful reliving of trauma. The pressure, interrogations, and accusations we endured while Sasha was alive—those were horrific experiences.

We’ve consulted with lawyers: we have every reason and every chance to win court cases against the slanderers. But we realize how much time and resources we’ll have to spend on this. Is it worth it right now?

If we go back to the roots of this smear campaign: Roitburd was attacked for his clear pro-Ukrainian stance. A specific pro-Russian party did this by taking his words about May 2, 2014, out of context. Sasha patiently explained to everyone: this is a tremendous human tragedy, because people died. But that doesn’t change the fact that Odesa did not become part of the “ONR” at that time. If Ukraine had lost Odesa, it would have lost its main port and commercial hub.

Everyone who supports these smear campaigns today simply has a gulf of values separating them from us. Fortunately, situations like this help us clearly identify and avoid such people.

You interact a lot with foreign journalists and diplomats. What question about Ukraine or Odesa do they ask most often, and which one surprises you every time?

They all come to see the monument to Catherine II and ask about “Pushkin.” They don’t see the museum; they’re looking for imperial narratives.

I came up with a little trick. I say, “I’ll show you the dismantled Catherine only after you’ve spent at least an hour in the halls of our museum!”

Once, a Ukrainian film crew came; they wanted to shoot a segment about Odessa, and again: “Show us Catherine.” I asked, “Do you know that the Odessa Museum is open during the war? Would you like to see the exhibition?” The journalist was surprised: “Are you actually open?” We gave her a tour of the galleries; she was thrilled, but… the segment about the museum never happened because they were just looking for a sensational story.

Decolonization is a painful, long conversation. We need to systematically come to terms with history. You can’t just rush into creating a museum of the empire. It takes time, resources, and public demand.

Last winter, you raised serious concerns about safety near the museum—pedestrians were being hit by cars there. Has the issue with the crosswalk been resolved?

It was a catastrophic situation in December: people were being hit almost every day. By 4:00 p.m., it’s already dark, and staff members were simply afraid to cross the street after their shift. Cars come down the hill, pick up speed, and simply don’t brake.

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The Museum’s petition to make changes to traffic management. PHOTO: Kateryna Kulay’s Facebook

We submitted an official request to the city council. A commission came, walked around with a tape measure, and sent a reply: “Everything is in order according to the regulations; nothing needs to be installed.” 

And only after a car hit one of our employees and we publicized the incident were speed bumps installed near the museum. Honestly? They don’t inspire confidence—half of them have already been damaged by cars. We’re insisting on speed bumps or a traffic light. We’re waiting for winter and keeping an eye on things. This is a prime example of how difficult it is to break through the bureaucratic wall, even when it comes to matters of human safety.

If you could make just one request to Ukrainian and international patrons, what would you ask for the museum right now?

I would ask for relationships and engagement. Not one-time assistance, but institutional sustainability. We need strong ties. If we find ourselves in a crisis today, another country may face similar challenges in the future—and then our experience could be useful to them.

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A line for an exhibition at the Odesa Art Museum. PHOTO: Kateryna Kulay’s Facebook

I realize that, by becoming the director, I have already made my mark on the museum’s history. My practical dream is to have additional exhibition space and to increase the number of visitors. But my biggest, most ambitious dream echoes that of Oleksandr Roitburd. Sasha used to say: his dream is for people, when they come to Odesa, to go first not to a hotel or a restaurant, but to the Art Museum. Not because anything else is worse, but because Ukraine and Odesa will be known around the world for our cool, vibrant, and indomitable space.

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