An art as old as the egg

YOUNGSTOWN -- As legend has it, an evil monster somewhere in the world is chained to a cliff. Each year he sends out his emissaries to see how many pysanky eggs are being made. The more made, the tighter the chains.
But, if pysanky making is abandoned, evil starts to flow throughout the world, says Mary Soldo, who was doing her part to keep evil at bay while leading a pysanky workshop Saturday at Fellows Riverside Gardens in Mill Creek MetroParks.
Eleven area residents learned the Ukrainian art form of decorating eggs with elaborate and intricate designs, all having meaning and purpose. The process is painstakingly intricate and tedious, using a kiska or stylus to transfer wax onto an egg in different layers, along the way dipping the egg into chemical dyes and later melting it off with a candle.
It's something Soldo learned with her family in the mid-'70s, but didn't get back into it until 1996. Today she passes the tradition on to others.
It's known as the Ukrainian Easter egg, said Soldo, of Struthers, a free-lance writer and graphics designer. But it began thousands of years ago in Eastern Europe among the nomadic people who would spread it as they settled.
Meaning
The word pysanky means to write, and in ancient times the eggs were decorated and distributed in the springtime, signifying the release of the earth from the shackles of winter and the coming of spring, as well as to deliver protection from evil.
As Christianity took hold, pysanky adopted more religious themes, especially during the Easter season when the egg symbolized the Resurrection and the promise of eternal life. Symbols such as fish, the crucifix and tears, symbolizing Mary's tears, took on Christian meanings.
Women would gather to decorate eggs on Holy Thursday -- women only, no men -- and the eggs would be blessed on Easter Sunday, Soldo said. They had contests to see who made the best egg.
Local residents participating in the workshop enjoyed the three-hour, egg-decorating process, although when you're dealing with eggs, things happen. When dipping one of the eggs in a dye, Soldo put her thumb through the soft shell by accident. Many of the serious pysanky artists use duck or goose eggs.
That's the frustrating thing about this art form because anything can go wrong at any time, she said. "But it's worth it, especially when you see someone learn how to do it. You really can't picture it until you do it."
Treating it as a hobby
Although this was Soldo's first pysanky class at the gardens, she approaches the art-making process as a hobby, giving the eggs away as gifts. "I have never sold one," said Soldo, who knows they sell for as much as $35.
Joan Catherman of Boardman had fun in the class.
"I got the idea," she said while cleaning her hands after a small mishap. "I came here 10 years ago for another [pysanky] workshop, and it was fun."
Will she try it at home?
"I might come back if they have another workshop next year," she said, laughing.
Traudi Reed and her daughter Vicki, both from Cleveland, enjoyed the quality time together.
"I liked knowing the creativity of whatever you come up with will work," Reed said.
At the workshop, all of the eggs turned out beautifully, and Soldo was happy with everyone's effort.
"You kept that monster chained to the cliff," she told the participants as they left the gardens.