Ukrainian Easter – Velykden, meaning "Great Day", is not just a religious holiday. It is one of the most layered, emotionally resonant moments in the Ukrainian calendar: a confluence of faith, family memory, and cultural identity that has been passed down, hidden, suppressed, and ultimately preserved across centuries. To understand it is to understand something essential about Ukraine itself.
The Ritual Roots: What Easter Has Always Been
Ukrainian Easter is structured around preparation, ritual, and symbolism. In the days leading up to the holiday, homes are cleaned and traditional foods are prepared — most notably paska, a sweet, golden Easter bread decorated and baked with ceremony, and pysanky, the iconic decorated eggs created using wax-resist techniques and filled with symbolic geometric patterns rooted in pre-Christian tradition.
On Easter night or early morning, families bring baskets to church for blessing — svyachene. The basket typically includes paska, hard-boiled eggs, salt, butter, and sometimes meat, each element carrying specific meaning connected to life, purity, and renewal. After the blessing, the celebration begins with a shared meal. Candles, embroidered textiles, and handwoven cloths are integral to the visual language of the holiday, reflecting a continuity of tradition through material culture that stretches back well before Christianity arrived in Kyivan Rus.
What makes Ukrainian Easter distinct is this layering — Orthodox faith sitting atop far older folk customs, each reinforcing the other. The symbols on pysanky predate the church. The foods predate written records. The rituals belong to both.
The Hidden Holiday: Easter Under the Soviet Union
The Soviet project was, among many things, a project against memory. When Ukraine was absorbed into the USSR, religious practice was systematically dismantled. Churches were closed, repurposed, or demolished. Clergy were arrested. Public religious observance was dangerous — grounds for losing a job, being reported, or worse.
Easter became an act of quiet resistance. The KGB was known to station officers outside churches on Easter night, photographing those who attended and noting the names of believers. Young people, especially students and party members, were warned or actively prevented from attending services. State media ran anti-religious campaigns timed to Easter, framing tradition as superstition and backwardness.
And yet — families continued. Paska was baked in secret. Pysanky were made at kitchen tables out of sight. Grandmothers passed down rituals in whispers. Easter survived not through institutions, which were dismantled, but through domestic life — through women, through kitchens, through the stubborn ordinary courage of family. That survival is part of why Velykden carries the weight it does today. It was protected not by the powerful, but by the persistent.
Velykden Now: Modern Easter in Ukraine
Since independence, Ukrainian Easter has undergone a quiet renaissance. Traditions that were practiced in hiding are now celebrated openly, and with a new sense of cultural pride that has only deepened since 2022. Attending the Easter service, preparing the basket, baking paska from a grandmother's recipe — these are no longer just religious acts. They are statements of continuity and identity.
Modern Velykden in Ukraine looks like: long queues outside churches in the early hours of Sunday morning, baskets covered in embroidered cloths held under candlelight, the exchange of Khrystos Voskres ("Christ is Risen") and its response Voistynu Voskres in streets and doorways. In the diaspora, the holiday serves a similar function – a point of gathering, of cultural transmission, of belonging. Ukrainian designers, ceramicists, and makers have increasingly brought their craft to the Easter table, creating pieces – egg stands, candles, embroidered linens, decorative pysanky, that honour the tradition while speaking in a contemporary visual language.
Our Easter edit brings together work from Ukrainian designers who understand that an object made with intention carries meaning beyond its function. The basket you prepare, the cloth you lay, the candle you light — these are not decorations. They are a continuation of something that could not be broken.