They call them "hedgehogs".
Spiky metal structures, some wrapped in chains, that are being used as obstacles against Russian tanks.
When Ukrainian artist Volo Bevza arrived in Kyiv from Germany for the launch of his solo exhibition, he didn't expect to find himself days later welding the huge anti-tank barriers.
His show, featuring a collection of abstract oil paintings, was scheduled to open on the evening of February 24 in the Ukranian capital.
"Everything was ready but the show didn't happen," the 28-year-old told the ABC.
It was that morning the first bombs began falling on cities across Ukraine.
Travelling with his girlfriend, photographer Victoria Pidust, and her younger brother, Mark Pidust, the trio knew there were risks.
But the full-blown invasion was still unexpected, Bevza said.
The group sought refuge with fellow artists living in Lviv – the western Ukrainian city that has become a sanctuary for thousands who have fled Russian shelling in their home towns.
Their host stumbled across a metal workshop building the hedgehogs nearby, and they have been contributing to local territorial defence efforts since.
Despite now being stuck — as men aged 18 to 60 are banned from leaving the country — Bevza hasn't questioned their decision to travel to Ukraine amid warnings of Russia's invasion.
Like many artists, they remain defiant in the face of war.
There are countless stories emerging of how the community has risked their safety to preserve work, provide support, and ensure the country's artistic identity isn't erased.
"It was kind of an opposition, let's say a protest against the panic, against the idea that the Russian aggression will stop everything," Bevza said.
More recently the group has also been focusing their efforts fundraising for materials.
Using their networks in Germany — where they have been based for the past six years — they have been selling artworks and receiving donations to support territorial defences in Lviv and the towns where they were born.
The copper funnel artistic escape
When the worst of the Russian invasion was just beginning, it was clear to curator Maria Lanko that the situation was only going to escalate.
She grabbed a small bag of belongings, three big boxes filled with 72 copper funnels, crammed them in her car "and just drove".
Katya Pavlevych, head of communications for the Ukrainian pavilion at the Venice Biennale, recounted her colleague's expedition.
Speaking to the ABC from the US, she explained the importance of the funnels for artist Pavlo Makov's work The Fountain of Exhaustion, which will take centre stage at Ukraine's exhibit at the Biennale in a few weeks' time.
"I think the fact that Maria grabbed those pieces over anything else says more about her and her attitude to art and the way she cherishes it," Ms Pavlevych said.
The team has faced multiple challenges getting people and artworks to Venice from Ukraine.
They have done everything possible to ensure they do not only represent themselves, but the country that stands behind them, Ms Pavlevych said.
"In times like this, the cultural representation of Ukraine is just another confirmation of the independence of Ukraine," she said.
"The presence of Ukraine at international events like this is a sign to the world and to Ukrainians that we exist … No war, no tyrant, no aggressor can stop us from demonstrating that and from showing who we are."
Ms Pavlevych added that Ukraine was often considered part of Russia and that it shared its culture.
But now that all eyes are on Ukraine they want to demonstrate what has been overlooked for years.
Artists unite selling NFTs for Ukraine aid
Ukrainian artist and muralist Vladimir Manzhos, also known as Waone of Interesni Kazki, brings colour and fantasy to city streets around the globe.
The invasion has forced him to abandon work on his upcoming shows, leaving behind paintings at his Kyiv studio.
"All my plans in Ukraine are ruined," he said.
But instead of dwelling on the loss, Manzhos has been inspired to take action.
He has been selling limited edition NFT versions of some of his most famous works with London's A Gallery, giving 50 per cent of the sales directly to the Ukrainian army.
"The response has been amazing. Some of my friends have also donated their works and together we've sold 30 NFTs in 10 days," Manzhos told the ABC.
Most buyers aren't NFT collectors, but they have set up cryptocurrency accounts specifically to purchase the digital artworks and show support, he said.
"It really makes me have belief in the ultimate goodness of people … I want to thank the whole civilised world for the support and solidarity. This means a lot to us and this helps a lot."
Manzhos had just arrived in Lviv after a tiring journey, but his tone remained optimistic that "Ukrainian renaissance is coming".
He is motivated to continue the fight and believes identity won’t be lost, and instead the war will be a boost for Ukrainian culture.
"The museum of Maria Prymachenko was burned, many historical buildings are damaged or destroyed, but in spite of this Ukrainians are united and strong like never before" he said.
Librarians take action to protect online archives at risk
As Russian forces continue to bombard the country, many of Ukraine's art galleries, museums, and cultural centres in Lviv have been rushing to protect their precious artefacts.
Meanwhile outside of Ukraine, librarians and archivists are coming together to ensure the country's digital cultural heritage is also protected.
Last week, a group called Saving Ukraine's Cultural Heritage Online (SUCHO) was formed to retrieve and store websites, images of artworks, and digitised books in case even online records were destroyed in the war.
"Many of these servers are located in Ukraine, so there's risk of physical damage to the servers, there's risk of some of these links being subverted," Quinn Dombrowski said.
Mx Dombrowski, one of the organisers behind SUCHO, said more than 1,000 people had so far volunteered to help.
While they can't save the physical objects, they aim to safeguard their digital representations until they can be reunited with the Ukrainian librarians and archivists who created them.
"Within our volunteer community there are lots of people who come from families with stories of displacement," Mx Dombrowski, who is based in the US, said.