Hidden sounds of Ukraine: How Ukrainian artisan is reviving traditional folk instrument making

What's the problem?

In the past, crafts weren't unusual to Ukrainians. They were a way to make a living and part of everyday life and celebrations. Every village and nearly every family had artisans who could do it all — artistically carve wood, embroider shirts, and create musical instruments.

Because it was common for every other person in a Ukrainian village to be almost a genius at crafting, few people paid much attention to these skills. Even fewer thought about how, hundreds of years later, future generations of Ukrainians would try to hold on to their creations and feel sorry that many of them weren't preserved.

Folk craftsmanship is about how the skills of individuals enrich the culture of an entire nation. It's a repository of memories about us as a people, with our own traditions, history, and independence. Unfortunately, the number of people who carry this memory in Ukraine and can pass on their knowledge to new generations is dwindling every year.

What's the solution?

The hero of our story is a young craftsman from Lutsk, a lovely western Ukrainian city, who has dedicated himself to studying and creating folk musical instruments. Thanks to him, these instruments — rare and popular, complex and simple, old and new — are given a second chance at life.

Artisans like him scattered across Ukraine use their skills not just to research long-forgotten traditions and write a paper about them. They bring them back to life, not in museum displays but in people's homes. 

Before you read on, we recommend playing this video to immerse yourself in the sounds of Ukrainian folk instruments while you learn about them.

How does it work?

Dmytro Bereziuk was drawn into the craft by curiosity and… an accident. At one point, he was a designer, videographer, and photographer, making decorations and costumes, and even worked at a car repair shop. He tried his hand in many fields, but his passion for creating musical instruments was the one that stuck.

One summer, Dmytro broke his collarbone, and that unfortunate incident brought a new hobby into his life. With more time for experimentation, he decided to try learning something new. The artisan became interested in musical instruments, started reading more about them, and attempted to make something himself. That's when he learned wood carving and made his first flute from a plastic pipe — and that's how it all started.

Dmytro Bereziuk. Photo from Dmytro's archive

At first, Dmytro was interested in medieval instruments, which were much easier to find information about. Later, he realized he wanted to study the traditional musical instruments of Volyn — a historic area in Ukraine's northwest and a home region for Dmytro.

"I thought, the Hutsuls have a ton of their own instruments. But what did we have in Volyn?" he recalls, mentioning the Hutsuls, natives of the Ukrainian Carpathian Mountains, who are famous for their musical instruments, like trembita — a long wooden horn.

Dmytro holds a Celtic harp. Photo from the hero's archive

Dmytro began his search by asking people around and reading scientific articles. That's how he came across the names of instruments and even found brief descriptions of how some were made in the past. He also connected with other craftsmen who could share their knowledge. 

Soon, he hit a problem — hardly any artisans left in Ukraine specialized in traditional musical instruments.

"Not many people in Volyn are doing this. It's probably just me and a few other craftsmen," says Dmytro. "There's also a knowledge keeper named Herasym, who makes Polissian flutes. And Yurii Kovalchuk, who told me how to make bekachi [shepherd's flutes]. We were just chatting, and I learned."

Dmytro with Yurii Kovalchuk at a festival in the northwestern city of Rivne. Photo from the hero's archive

Meeting artisans in villages is very difficult these days. Twenty to thirty years ago, you could visit and ask them questions when they were still alive. Unfortunately, the keepers of this knowledge are becoming fewer. The full-scale war also played a part—travel around the country became more restricted, and villagers are now wary of unfamiliar visitors.

"It's great when you have someone to ask. But if not, you have to come up with things independently and experiment," the craftsman says. Sometimes, Dmytro finds the necessary items in cultural collections or museums. For example, Dmytro came across a Polissian flute from the historical Ukrainian region of Polissia in a local history museum in the spring, fixed its whistle, and measured it for future reference.

Historical overview of Volyn musical instruments

To describe the folk instruments, Dmytro uses the term "Greater Volyn" — a historical-geographical region that covers Ukraine's northwest (the Rivne, Zhytomyr, Ternopil, and Volyn regions, as well as parts of the Lviv and Khmelnytskyi regions) and parts of Poland and Belarus. Similar instruments were standard in these areas.

"There were more shepherd's instruments here, which people made in the forest or while herding cows. That's how we got [flutes like] dudky-kolianky and dudky-vykrutky, and horns," the craftsman explains. "The horns came from Belarus; Ukraine has only one village where they were made. On the Polish side of Polissia, they had lihavky — signal pipes similar to trembitas but shorter. In Volyn, they were used as signal pipes."

Traditional Ukrainian horn. Photo from Dmytro's archive

Wheel lyres were also popular in Volyn. Ukraine's last lyre player, Ivan Vlasiuk, a wandering singer, was recorded here.

Wheel lyre. Photo from Dmytro's archive

A handmade violin. Photo from Dmytro's archive

Dmytro shares his work on social media: recording the process of making instruments, playing them, and talking about his life. He jokes:

"Those who have information and keep it hidden in their pockets, holding it close to their hearts, should make it accessible to everyone."

He believes this is the only way Ukrainians can pass their knowledge to the next generation and keep ancient crafts from being forgotten.

Right now, Dmytro is making Podillian flutes, called dudky-kolianky. While it's still summer, he's stripping bark from buckthorn bushes, using the material before winter arrives. Dmytro's work isn't limited to the workshop. He often gathers materials: buckthorn, elder, pine, and others.

"Sometimes, I cut a lot and must process it all before it dries out. Basically, I've created a problem for myself," the artisan says, laughing.

Harvesting reeds. Photo from Dmytro's archive

Dudky-vykrutky flutes are made from pine, horn bodies from ash, pear, or apricot, and whistles from carbon or textolite (synthetic materials). For wheel lyres, Dmytro prepares wooden boards from pear trees.

He processes the materials in his workshop. For example, he has 3-4 days to strip the bark from freshly cut buckthorn with a small tube, split it, and then put it back together. He follows the authentic instrument-making technique but occasionally improves it.

For instance, the dudka-kolianka flute was traditionally not very durable — it would dry out over time and stop playing. Musicians used to soak the instrument to soften the wood and make it playable again. Dmytro adds glue and oil to make his version last longer. The same goes for the whistles, which used to be made from reeds.

"And those are tricky: you play for 10 minutes, tune for 5, and then repeat the process. These things need to be improved while keeping the traditional manufacturing methods," the craftsman says.

Dudky-kolianky and dudky-vykrutky differ in how they are made. Photo from the hero's archive

Things sometimes go differently than planned, and sometimes things don't work out. Dmytro believes there's always room for mistakes, which are necessary to improve: "I often had trouble with dudky-vykrutky. You need the right type of wood and the right time of year to make sure they come out well."

A lot of work piles up for Dmytro during festival season, when he has to fulfill orders for musicians. Right now, he's preparing for festivals in Lutsk and Poland.

On other days, he makes instruments for people who want to learn how to play them. Sometimes, someone will approach him, saying, "I'm going to the mountains and need something to do while admiring the view." Dmytro then shows them the basics of playing and involves them in the traditions.

Dmytro teaches how to play an instrument. Photo: Honchar Museum

"I show them how the instrument is made, how it works. After that, they learn to play through trial and error," the craftsman explains. "The thing is to understand how the sound is made. An instrument is alive when it's being played."

Dmytro taught himself to play, and now he's taking violin lessons. His favorite instruments include dudy (Ukrainian bagpipes), dudky-vykrutky, which are being considered for UNESCO's Intangible Cultural Heritage list, and wheel lyres.

Dudy. Photo from Dmytro's archive

People often visit Dmytro's workshop to learn how to make instruments. He teaches them and provides tools and materials — "as long as they have the will to learn." He's noticed that interest in traditional instruments is growing, especially in Kyiv, the Ukrainian capital and megapolis:

"There are more and more gatherings around traditional music. People are becoming more curious about where they come from, starting to explore their regions, and instruments are part of that because they're an important piece of the puzzle."

At the festival. Photo from Dmytro's archive

Looking into the future, Dmytro plans to expand his workshop and turn it into a space anyone can visit. He also wants to create a small museum showcasing instruments from different regions.

The craftsman believes Ukrainians need to be shown their true culture so that "they know we have more than just a 10-hole sopilka [flute] and a bandura [string guitar] from the Chernihiv factory" and that they take pride in their heritage.

Often, a family's material heritage is not preserved. When Ukrainians find old items, like woven carpets, embroidered shirts, or towels, that have been chewed by mice or faded with age, they throw them away rather than restore them or donate them to cultural institutions. When they do that, a piece of Ukraine's heritage is lost because every family's experience is valuable in studying Ukrainian culture.

It's equally important to support local artists. Dmytro says: "I used to hang out in Kyiv, but I moved back to Lutsk. We need the country to be less Kyiv-centric, for the regions to develop on their own, and for each to be unique. And to do that, we need people who will enrich, explore, preserve, and promote their heritage."