Last year, when the end of the world was announced and we found ourselves in limbo – the era was coming to an end, but the world itself was not ending, not for everyone – the self-sufficiency and flexibility of literature became apparent.

Literature was the last area that searched for new formats: you could read and write on your own, while audiobooks and e-books have long become digital; video poetry and collective creative work have long been enjoyed on social networks. The lockdown did not hinder literature as much as the performing arts, striking only its infrastructure. So, the resonant experiments remained for music and theater.

In addition, alternative formats and cancellations of festivals, discussion programs, and presentations have exposed the fact that, in recent years, the event-oriented literary culture has become a no less important form of expression than the printer’s ink. The book has become just one of the possible choices, getting the attention to its aesthetics and physical characteristics, such as a pleasant tactile feel or the specific smell of paint. While literature itself can also be read, recited, and combined with music and visual arts. Poets can speak on gender, skin color, domestic violence, and political situations, and this can lead to large-scale public debates.

The boundaries of the very understanding of literature appeared to be much wider, and the world’s tectonic changes consolidated this. Along with the variety of forms of expression, the translation, comics, rap, and performance have been added to the canonical poetry, prose, and drama.

The literary program of Book Arsenal 2021 is assembled of the fragments of traditional topics and the seeds of new approaches to program planning, being in search of a selection of the most important, because in the age of real physical risks readers, listeners, and artists, hungry for atmosphere and communication, will want to join the festival only in those moments that will seem interesting for them. This is an important breathing-out before starting something completely different, and our chance for rehearsals. A few years ago, at the beginning of the war, we rushed to look for answers in books, hoping to find significant words there; many people remember that crowded Mystetskyi Arsenal in spring. This time, literature will feel like air – as a sign that the world will not be the same, but we will still be able to listen, read, and dance.

We are used to talking about literature as an area that is constantly narrowing, tending to be marginalized, and losing its adepts. Mankind reads books less and less, books occur in narrower circles of people, and literature itself appears more conditionally in our lives. The future of writing increases skepticism, especially of those who are used to perceiving skepticism as a norm.

Instead, we are convinced that literature is far too early to be buried and that poetry and prose continue to be in demand and influence our perceptions of the world. Moreover, they are the ones that keep shaping these ideas. In particular, our optimism is based on the ability of literature to adapt to new realities, to adapt to changes in the cultural and information fields, to mimic together with mankind that is stubbornly moving forward in search of happiness. The literary glass remains half-full, quenching thirst and offering solace. One only needs to be able to hear these new, unusual voices that speak about what literature has been talking about for so many years: our dependence on each other and our inability to get along with each other.

In the curatorial program Out Loud. About Yourself, we are going to show how literature tries to find itself in today’s dispersed air: through music, performance, and provocation. The way in which the ghosts of literature appear where they are not expected, the way in which poetry and prose function in adjacent territories, and in which literary voices are outlined through music or theater. The way in which different genres coexist, balancing between what is written about yourself and what is said out loud.

During the four days of this year’s Book Arsenal, we are going to offer readers (that is, listeners) open conversations with people who can mix and match. The audience will have the opportunity to see (that is, hear) writers and musicians who have found for themselves this cozy gray inter-genre zone, being there in a state of constant transit. We will offer our audience public interviews with concert performance elements, where guests will be unexpected, yet desirable.

Let’s take the band Hammerman Destroys Viruses, which is the virus itself, spreading provocative narratives and causing a possibly inappropriate response. Or the Belarusian rock star Lyavon Volsky, who takes poetry into a broader context, making his own texts and the texts of the classic authors of the Belarusian literature a part of the public sounds/voices and reflections. Or the shocking duo from Berlin — writer Volodymyr/Wladimir Kaminer and musician Yuriy Gurzhy — who, while remaining masters in their respective fields, are constantly trying to introduce themselves to new audiences by synthesizing genres and breaking patterns. Our program will end with a concert by the Kharkiv punk project Zhadan I Sobaky, with the participation of all invited participants

We are all between our skepticism and optimism. We dance on the line, between despair and confidence. We are thrown from despair to euphoria. The main thing seems to remain sincere and frank. That is, to be able to listen to others and talk about yourself. Preferably out loud.

“And in the great new family, The family of the free…”

Family is a space of trust, a circle of unconditional support, growth and coming of age. It is in the family that we all gain our first experience of thinking and talking about life and death, justice and injustice. Whatever the family, we all learn about the world through it. The family circle helps to enter the outside world for the first time, to get to know it, and to cope with new acquired experiences.

Just like the entire history of Ukraine, the Ukrainian literature has powerful family stories and traditions. In particular, during 2021, the focus is on Lesya Ukrainka and her wide family circle that includes names of no less important Ukrainian classic authors, such as Olena Pchilka and Mykhailo Drahomanov. It’s equally important here to mention the Stara Hromada, or the circle of Ivan Franko and Panteleimon Kulish… And it’s no less important to list the primary names and families of the 20th century: we wish we would not miss anyone. That is why the conversation about significant literary families is the cornerstone of the special program Family Values.

The issue of human rights protection cannot be overlooked while talking about the family of modern Ukraine. Unfortunately, the issue of family values ​​is now often pushed by those movements that, using the slogan of ‘traditional values’ as cover, allow themselves violence, such as attacks on peaceful assemblies of citizens. But the family and its protection cannot be a space of violence and hatred. That is why the program Family Values will give us an opportunity to talk about our Ukrainian traditional values: the justice and equality of citizens who, being in the great new family, the family of the free, can create a society with comfortable and safe living standards.