Transitions Online: Branding the Hutsuls TRANSITIONS ONLINE: Eastern Carpathians: Branding the Hutsuls by Patrice M. Dabrowski 16 June 2005 Mountain holidays were promoted to interwar Poles almost as an act of patriotism. Are the marketing tactics of that time still relevant now that the Carpathians are being absorbed into the EU? In the last decade, Central and Eastern Europe have witnessed a proliferation of public and private initiatives to boost the image of areas sharing economic and cultural ties across national borders. One focus of activity has been the Carpathian Mountain range, where a number of government and civil-society initiatives have taken root, from small-scale contacts between border villages to generously funded multi-state projects. They aim to transform what had long been a distinctive highland frontier into a new type of borderland, one in which the mountains no longer divide but unite peoples. Hutsul crafts on display, Yaremche, Ukraine. In addition to the prospects for local cooperation, the local people behind these projects seem to desire a fuller communion with Europe as a whole – a worthy goal, if perhaps a challenging one for such relatively remote (and far from wealthy) places. Indeed, how can they attract visitors from throughout the newly enlarged Europe and make them see these places as more than just peripheral to the new Europe? In other words, the “branding” (to use modern parlance) of these new highland borderlands is certainly a burning question for proponents of the Carpathians. HEARTS IN THE HIGHLANDS Perhaps the example of a similar attempt at marketing from an earlier incarnation of "new Europe" could be instructive. Central Europe in the period between the world wars was certainly a new kind of Europe, though one that sought to establish itself under the new conditions of national self-determination. That said, one can still gain insight into strategies used to popularize the highland regions. Take, for example, the Eastern Carpathians, then as now marking the lower right-hand corner of the Polish state. In the reborn Poland of the day, though, the border ran along the crest of the mountains southeast of the present-day line, flanking the Czechoslovak province of Subcarpathian Rus down to the Romanian frontier. One of the new country’s most inaccessible and poorest regions, it nonetheless made quite a career for itself in the interwar period. How were Poles persuaded to take an interest in this remote place? Indeed, what made them identify with the Eastern Carpathians and their fascinating indigenous highlanders, the Hutsuls? Efforts in this regard were, above all, the work of the Society of Friends of the Hutsul Region. Founded in 1933, the organization sought to advance the region in a number of ways. Most significant in light of today's concerns was the organization's focus on two aspects: regional authenticity and tourism. Enthusiasts for the Hutsul region firmly believed that its unique folklore was worth maintaining. Various scholarly studies investigated the folk culture of the high uplands. The rich architectural heritage, seen in the beautiful wooden churches and distinctive highland huts, and the artistry that permeated the rest of Hutsul life caught the fancy of many specialists and amateur ethnographers. The Friends of the Hutsuls pushed the notion that new buildings should adhere to the customary Hutsul style, thus making for an aesthetically harmonic architectural ensemble. (Contrast the more haphazard development in the High Tatra mountains in the vicinity of Zakopane, already at that time host to a motley range of styles; this might suggest that efforts to maintain "authenticity" of building styles make the most sense where development has not proceeded apace.) The Hutsul association decided to preserve and propagate traditional Hutsul handicrafts, dress styles, and household wares by building a museum in the largest Hutsul village, Zhabie (like most of the Hutsul region, it now lies in Ukraine and is known as Verkhovyna). Enthusiasts for the Hutsul way of life often exhorted them to maintain their attractive folkways, wear native dress, and continue the highland traditions of their ancestors. HANDCRAFTING AN IDENTITY Anyone familiar with the Hutsuls could not help but comment on the keen artistic sensibility seen in their exuberantly colorful and fanciful designs. Many local people spent the long winters engaged in making beautifully embroidered clothing and richly decorated household items. Most famous of these were the woolen blankets, or lyzhnyky; wooden utensils and other household items, many with inlaid beads as well as intricately carved; and colorful painted furnace tiles and other pottery. Could not some of these items be produced not only for domestic consumption but for tourists as well, to help the Hutsuls improve their livelihood? Such were the thoughts of the Friends of the Hutsuls, which marketed the Hutsuls’ surplus production (but only verifiably “authentic” items) to meet the seasonal tourists’ desire to bring home a souvenir from their mountain holidays. One may safely say that countless interwar Polish homes had Hutsul blankets, purchased by visitors during their vacations in the region. Then as now, tourism was seen as one of the brightest prospects for regional development of highland areas and developing the mountains' tourism potential became a central concern of the association. The Friends of the Hutsuls built upon an interest in hiking and skiing that had sprung up under Habsburg rule, when outdoor enthusiasts based in Stanislawow (today’s Ivano-Frankivsk) and Kolomyja constructed lodges and marked trails across the hills of one of Europe’s last wildernesses. The war largely wiped out the infrastructure of this prewar tourism, but in the interwar period a number of hiking and sporting clubs set out to rebuild, thus leading to a mushrooming of lodges and trails across the highland landscape – to the extent that the association began to coordinate further development. The association also tried to foster mass, as opposed to individual, tourism – an increasingly pressing concern during this period. Growing ranks of working-class visitors, after all, might vacation not only in the new lodges or in hotels in the towns and villages of the region but also in the huts of the impoverished local people, who dearly would love to profit from tourism as well. How to attract the masses of lowland Poles to the high uplands? The Friends of the Hutsuls found a strategy for relating the region to the larger picture of the interwar Polish state. It focused on the events of World War I, in particular the activities of the Second Brigade of the Polish Legions, which had fought the Russians in the Eastern Carpathians in 1914 and 1915. Retracing the army's routes and commemorating its battles became a way to attract visitors interested in that history. But there was an even more compelling dimension to this reliving of history. It turned out that a number of Hutsuls either fought in the Second Brigade or gave help on the ground to Polish forces. A commemoration of those battles could conceivably help bring Poles and Hutsuls closer together, as both could be depicted as fighting for Polish independence. This was the story that the Friends of the Hutsul Region sought to propagate, seeing in it a powerful means of bringing citizens of the multiethnic state closer together. MAKING HOLIDAYS Growing interest in the area's wartime history led to the establishment of a special annual event known as the Hutsul Route March. Poland’s Marshal Jozef Pilsudski himself was the patron of the march, which involved teams of skiers traversing a three-day course. While many of these teams involved the military, Hutsuls (dressed in folk costume) as well as private clubs also participated. Awards were given to the winners in various categories. The Hutsul Route March proved to be a well-attended spectacle, with both skiers and onlookers housed among local residents. The race was often followed by a ski-jumping competition, which also drew throngs. Polish legions on the march. Source: University of Rzeszow Hutsuls were also integrated into the larger highland community of the Polish state through their participation in the "Highland Holiday" – the precursor to the "Highland Week” – an annual summer event that brought together highlanders from across the breadth of the Polish Carpathians. (There was also a smaller “Hutsul Holiday” held within the Hutsul region itself every year.) No less a figure than the writer Stanislaw Vincenz, the author of the most famous work of Hutsul-inspired literature from the interwar period, On the High Uplands, worked with Hutsul troupes in preparing performances of songs and dances. The Hutsuls became the folk darlings of the interwar Polish state, which saw in them a most fascinating, authentic highland people – one worth coming to know. Thus did tourism develop during the interwar period. The region was “branded” as a locus of the battle for Polish independence as well as a home of an appealing highland people with unique artistry and folkways. The high Carpathians were promoted, too, as the “lungs” of Poland, their vivifying air restoring health to the lowland populations who came to visit. What are the lessons for today? Clearly there is room for similar branding of the Carpathians, with their variety of cultural traditions and still impressive natural environment. Perhaps “The unspoiled Alps of the East,” or “Europe’s highland wilderness” would be an appropriate slogan. Certainly hardy travelers might care to explore these newly gained borderlands of the new Europe. After all, exoticism and the desire to encounter the unknown have always attracted travelers wishing to fill in spaces seemingly blank on their mental map. It, thus, is up to governments, private enterprise, and the non-profit sector the length and breadth of the Carpathians; to expand the mental map of Europe to encompass these regions of unique natural beauty, healthful properties, and multifarious folk cultures. Patrice M. Dabrowski is currently working on a book about the “discovery” of various segments of the Carpathians from the late 19th century to the present. She is also the author of Commemorations and the Shaping of Modern Poland (Indiana University Press, 2004). Related articles: The Carpathians Rediscovered: Fresh Mountain Breezes A new effort to boost local people's appreciation for their intricate cultural heritage begins in two Polish highland villages. by Grzegorz Demel 16 June 2005 After the Fall A half-forgotten neighborly quarrel over imperial fragments reminds us that the Polish-Ukrainian borderlands are still worth watching by Slawomir Wojcik 11 February 2005 Central Europe Review: Colourful Shadows Paradzhanov's 1964 film about life in the western Ukrainian mountains put him on a par with the world's greatest directors. by James Partridge 23 April 2001 ADVERTISEMENT powered by Copyright © 2005 Transitions Online. All rights reserved. ISSN 1214-1615 Terms under which this service is provided to you. Read our privacy guidelines.