Serhii Parajanov’s Film Multiverse
Serhii Parajanov, originally named Sargis Hovsepi Parajanyan, was a brilliant filmmaker whose work remains timeless. Unlike what some might believe, Parajanov's art wasn't purely aesthetic. It was deeply rooted in political issues. His best work came during Soviet times, which led to him being censored and jailed. Said experience, along with his connections to Ukrainian dissidents and his intersecting Armenian, Georgian and Ukrainian background, heavily influenced his unique visual style and storytelling.
Self-documentation through collage, Serhii Parajanov
In an exploration of Serhii Parajanov's career, we embark on a chronological journey through five of his most significant works. As we delve into the artistic and historical developments behind the films, we will also draw connections to peoples and cultures that contributed to the filmmaker’s distinctive heritage.
The text is organized to match the Insight UA website layout. It encourages you to grasp the overarching context of the films, engage with key textual references, identify and appreciate distinctive visual elements as well as experience the soundtrack in a new light.
Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1965)
The first feature film by Serhii Parajanov to gain worldwide critical acclaim is Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, also known as Wild Horses of Fire in English. Despite being a household name for Parajanov's cinema in the film theory books, Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors looks and feels like no other Parajanov's film. Ukrainian artists and political activists involved in the film's creation or its subsequent promotion considered it to be a significant political statement. It is no coincidence that the premiere of the film in Kyiv hosted a protest demonstration against imprisonment and oppression of Ukrainian intellectuals by the Soviet regime.
Photos by Oleksandr Hubariev. 1st of January, 1964. Dzembronia. Shooting process for the Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. Serhii Parajanov. Larysa Kadochnykova with her mother
The movie is based on the well-known Ukrainian novel of the same name by Mykhailo Kotsiubynskyi, a master of impressionist literature. The author drew inspiration for the novel while traveling to the Carpathians and spending time in Kryvorivnia village. His fascination with the local Hutzul folklore and tradition is reflected in the love story between Ivan and Marichka, two Hutsuls from opposing families. The novel delves deeper into the plot by inviting contemplation of life and death through local rituals and the landscapes of the highlands.
Woodcuts by Heorhii Yakutovych. Illustrations for Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors novel by Mykhailo Kotsiubynskyi, 1965-1966. Joys of childhood, Ivan and Marichka. Clash of rival families. Near the bonfire. From Serhii Yakutovych's collection.
If Serhii Parajanov hadn't worked with Yurii Illienko, the film would have turned out very differently. Yurii Illienko, Ukrainian director and cameraman, played a crucial role in making visual decisions on the set and would later become a key figure in Ukrainian poetic cinema. Illienko had already earned recognition for his graduate project and developed his own visual style by the time he worked on Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. The film's widespread acclaim introduced Illienko's signature use of a constantly moving hand camera, vibrant colors, and unexpected angles.
Still from Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. Courtesy Dovzhenko Centre
Another talented Ukrainian whose outstanding work is celebrated in the film is Myroslav Skoryk. One may know him from the Melody composition that was used in commemorations of the Holodomor and the Revolution of Dignity. Serhii Parajanov set high standards when selecting a composer to collaborate on Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors and expected nothing less than an exceptional score. Myroslav Skoryk successfully met these expectations by incorporating authentic Carpathian and Hutzul instruments, such as trembita, and drawing heavy inspiration from folk music for his score. To achieve an authentic sound, he brought in residents from Hutzul villages to Kyiv and captured their vocals, going as far as transporting a lengthy and weighty trembita on the plane.
Kyiv Frescoes (1966)
In the late 1960s, censorship in the Soviet film industry became more severe, leading to shelving scripts and films without ever being publicly screened. Among these forgotten works, Kyiv Frescoes had its script revised three times but never received approval from the Dovzhenko Studio’s Script-Editorial Board. The movie has endured through the years in the form of screen tests, totaling 15 minutes in length.
The scholars believe that the draft used as a basis for the screen tests was from the second edition, which was co-written with a Ukrainian poet and screenwriter named Pavlo Zahrebelnyi. The content revolves around life in Kyiv during the 20th anniversary of the Second World War, which at the time was referred to as the Great Patriotic War in the USSR. It encompasses a kaleidoscope of landscapes and characters (the Man, the Woman, and the Longshoreman) who indirectly interact with each other through a series of accidental choices. The Kyiv Frescoes, presented as a collection of symbols, unfolds in a world of dreams and fantasy, much like the famous Italian director Federico Fellini's 8½.
Stills from Kyiv Frescoes. Courtesy Dovzhenko Centre / Still from 8½. Courtesy Criterion Collection
The film would consist of 10 frescoes or cinefrescoes, as Parajanov called them. The term "frescoes" in the title signifies Parajanov's distinctive cinematic style, which originated from the Kyiv Frescoes and reached its peak in Color of Pomegranates (Sayat-Nova). Similar to a painting on a damp wall, a fresco exudes grandeur, becomes a part of its surroundings, and endures through time. The frames of Parajanov's films become still, and the mise-en-scene is brought to life by a selection of thoughtfully chosen objects.
Still from Kyiv Frescoes. Courtesy Dovzhenko Centre / Serhii Parajanov in between Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors shootings. Courtesy Parajanov Museum archives (Yerevan) / Still from Color of Pomegranates (Sayat-Nova). Courtesy Criterion Collection
In the realm of free-flowing associative connections, the diverse music scene of Kyiv comes to the scene, ranging from religious performances at the Saint Sophia Cathedral to classical compositions and popular chanson songs of the era. All the script fragments are brought together by the Bohdan and Varvara Khanenko National Museum of Arts, centering around the renowned artwork that is Velázquez’s portrait of the Infanta Margarita, as depicted and discussed in the movie.
Andriivskyi Descent, St. Andrew's Church, History Museum, 1960s. Courtesy H.S. Pshenychnyi Central State Cinema, Photo and Phono Archive of Ukraine / Still from Kyiv Frescoes. Courtesy Dovzhenko Centre / Red hall at Bohdan and Varvara Khanenko's house. The beginning of 20th century. Courtesy Khanenko Museum
The Color of Pomegranates / Sayat-Nova (1969)
Armenfilm Studio, inspired by the success of Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors that brought recognition to the Dovzhenko Studio in Kyiv, decided to invite Parajanov to collaborate with them on what later became The Color of Pomegranates. Unlike Kyiv Frescoes, the film was completed during production and has received global recognition. However, it faced censorship and meddling from Moscow. Before the film was released, a director from above edited it to make it more “accessible” to the viewer. The original Armenian version was swapped with a Russian one, and the title was changed from Sayat-Nova to The Color of Pomegranates. Shortly after the movie was released, Parajanov was arrested by Soviet authorities and sentenced to five years in prison.
Serhii Parjanov by Yuri Mechitov, 1979
Although the film doesn't include any dialogues, it draws from the poems of Sayat-Nova, an 18th-century Armenian ashugh troubadour who worked at the palace of Georgian king Erekle II, to create a rich textual legacy. Parajanov doesn't present Sayat-Nova's life story as a straightforward sequence of events, but rather as a complete poem filled with symbols and profound emotions. By exploring the different roles of the ashugh as a writer, lover, and priest, the film delves into key themes in Sayat-Nova's writing, including yearning for a beloved and worshipping the beauty of the world. Sayat-Nova was highly significant to both Armenians and Georgians, and his significance also resonated with Parajanov, who was an Armenian from Tbilisi and held art and beauty in high regard.
In preparation for the movie, Parajanov extensively researched the Armenian artist Hakob Hovnatanyan, known for his portraits of local nobles, religious figures, and affluent individuals. The Color of Pomegranates prominently featured the portrait as the primary art form, showcasing intricate details of both the subject and their surroundings. Through the use of a stationary camera, the film created an unchanging frame while objects within it shifted and interacted with one another. Parajanov's admiration for Hovnatanyan's work not only materialized in visual references in Sayat-Nova but also in a distinct documentary film Hakob Hovnatanyan, shot in 1967.
Still from Color of Pomegranates (Sayat-Nova). Courtesy Criterion Collection / Portrait of Princes Melik by Hakob Hovnatanyan. Mid-19th century. Courtesy Georgian Museum of Fine Arts
An exceptional Armenian composer, Tigram Mansurian, took a unique approach to creating the soundtrack by experimenting with a wide range of raw materials. The soundtrack incorporated sounds from the everyday life of Sayat-Nova, which required field recording of church liturgy, hymns, folk songs, and instruments. Incorporating performances of Sayat-Nova’s poems transformed them into entirely new musical compositions. Even moments of silence served a specific purpose. Tigram Mansurian result treated music as a distinct art form, striving to create a deliberate and detailed collage that fitted the rhythm of the visual.
Arabesques on the Pirosmani Theme (1985)
Little is known about the motivation and circumstances that influenced Parajanov's decision to create a documentary about Niko Pirosmani. The naive artist from Georgia gained recognition for his works shortly after he passed away.
Parajanov continues the tradition of showcasing short films in a style reminiscent of frescoes and miniatures, arranging fragmented stories in arabesques. The narrative unfolds in a photo studio that mirrors the social landscape of Pirosmani's Georgia. It is within this setting that the artist sought to support himself by accepting commissions for paintings. The film's composition is guided by recurring themes found in Pirosmani's art, such as feasts, animals, and the contrast between the rich and the poor. Through the characters depicted in arabesques and Pirosmani's works, the audience is offered insights into Georgian history, particularly the history of Tbilisi. Furthermore, keen observers may spot Irakli II, who also appeared in The Color of Pomegranates alongside Sayat-Nova.
Tatar Fruiterer by Niko Pirosmani. Courtesy Georgian National Museum / Erekle II of Georgia by Niko Pirosmani, Courtesy Art Museum of Georgia / Five prices carousing by Niko Pirosmani. Courtesy Infinitart Foundation
Parajanov delves into a myth that bears some resemblance to both Sayat-Nova and the director himself. In this case, another enigmatic artist with a diverse identity and a keen eye for beauty and intricacy is Niko Pirosmani. It is believed that Pirosmani's artistic style draws inspiration from Byzantine and Georgian frescoes, as well as medieval Persian paintings. The same visual references are found all over Parajanov’s films. Throughout most of the film, the paintings are used to tell the story, with the camera framing the reproductions. The experience goes beyond just what you see, so when there are birds depicted on the canvas, you also hear the actual sounds of birds. In Parajanov's hands, everything comes to life. The pursuit of timeless, beautiful art remains constant; it is only the medium that varies.
Photo by Yuri Mechitov. Shooting process for Arabesques on the Theme of Pirosmani, 1985 / Still from Arabesques on the Theme of Pirosmani. Courtesy Parajanov-Vartanov Institute / Fresco from Svetitskhoveli Cathedral at Mtskheta. All the living souls praise the Lord, south wall, 17th century
The Legend of the Surami Fortress (1985)
In a bid to cultivate a more democratic image both domestically and internationally, the Soviet regime of the 1980s began encouraging filmmakers to explore previously censored themes. This shift led to a renaissance in Georgian cinema, marked by critically acclaimed films that critiqued totalitarian regimes, including Stalinism. Repentance (1984) by Tengiz Abuladze is a notable example. Among these works stands The Legend of the Surami Fortress, co-directed by Serhii Parajanov and Dodo Abashidze.
Photos by Yuri Mechitov. Shooting process for The Legend of Surami Fortress, 1983
Based on a popular Georgian folktale penned by the young folklore enthusiast Daniel Chonkadze, the film revolves around the Surami Fortress, which continually crumbles under enemy attacks. A fortune teller's prophecy suggests that only by entombing a young man alive within its walls can the fortress withstand future assaults. While the film's dedication to Georgian warriors might suggest a straightforward patriotic narrative, its script is rife with nuanced interpretations.
The young man's decision to sacrifice himself can be viewed as either a noble act of patriotism or a senseless death in service of a tyrannical ruler. The film also subtly comments on the Soviet regime's mistreatment of Parajanov himself, with one scene depicting noblemen humiliating a serf by slashing pomegranates above his head — a veiled reference to the censorship of Parajanov's earlier work, The Color of Pomegranates.
Stills from The Legend of Surami Fortress
Unlike Parajanov's previous avant-garde creations, The Legend of the Surami Fortress follows a linear narrative with clear dialogue. The film's soundtrack, crafted by renowned composer Jansug Kakhidze, beautifully incorporates traditional Georgian folk vocals. Visually, the film captivates with its vibrant colors and innovative use of dreams and visions in storytelling. However, keen observers will notice deliberate anachronisms within the meticulously crafted scenes. Parajanov intentionally includes Soviet-era buildings and industrial ships in the backdrop of this 19th-century tale, further layering the film's complex interpretations and blurring the lines between past and present.
Asia Pavlenko, the Programme Coordinator at the Ukrainian Institute, developed the page's content.