Iaroslava Muzyka

Grandma’s presence cheered up the painter, a worldly petite blonde who used to frequent the galleries of Lviv and Paris. In contrast to my Grandma’s demeanor, the painter’s fear must have been quite discernible, because the police would stop her in spite of her “right looks” on the suspicion of being Jewish. At first glance it was Grandma who looked much more suspicious, but whenever Iaroslava Muzyka would be stopped, Grandma would immediately provide a line of defense: “What is wrong with you…? Don’t you know the most famous Ukrainian painter?” (16)

Directly after the war Iaroslava Muzyka painted a portrait of my mom, which critics labeled as “a French girl.” Their interpretation was not entirely in error; it was in Paris that the artist developed her polished style, so it is not surprising that critics looked to that milieu in order to identify the roots of her work and artistic associations. Well, though the critics spotted French charme in the painting, my mom did not like the painting at all. Half a century later she wrote in her reminiscences: “In my portrait Mrs. Slavtsia painted a stain instead of the beautiful white collar, handmade by my mom, that I was wearing.” The artist tried everything to console her promising to correct the collar as soon as the painting returned from an exhibition and to give the portrait to Mom as a present. The painting did return, but could be reunited neither with the model nor the artist, as by then they were separated by thousands of miles. (17)