Since 1962, he held unofficial joint exhibitions with his best friend, the artist Mykola Tryhub, at the old Brick Factory. In 1977, he participated in an exhibition of the informal Rukh association (organized by Kosin, Nedzelskyi, and Fedorynchyk), where artists such as M. Tryhub, V. Baklytskyi, M. Zalevskyi, O. Kostetskyi, O. Holub, V. Bohuslavskyi, M. Zhukov, and others declared themselves. There were no official exhibitions; works had to be shown in the apartments of Kyiv intellectuals or in abandoned premises. Most of the works were acquired by foreign collectors. From 1990 to 1992, he was a member of the independent artist group Strontium-90, who defended the ecological purity of the Earth in their works.

Each of Baklytskyi's paintings is a celebration, a riot of colors. His palette is dominated by hot, not merely warm, tones. He was a maximalist in his feelings, he could paint a landscape in which there were not one, but three suns in the sky. His women are not just beautiful — they are stunning like flowers.

At the same time, the expression of color and form, which distorts photographic-normal representation, was perceived during the years of socialist realism simply as an inability to draw, and the lack of ideas was equated with the lack of professionalism. Such art had neither official exhibitions nor reviews from art historians, nor, all the more, commissions.

Baklytskyi worked in various jobs to be able to buy canvases and paints, and to organize celebrations sometimes. He was a decorator at a film studio, a set designer, a participant in an archaeological expedition, and when he had the strength, sometimes even worked as a porter. The main concern was to defend his right to self-expression, to refract light in his own way (this had fascinated the artist in Vermeer’s works), and to paint with pure color, showing solidarity with Van Gogh’s lifelong lack of recognition and Pirosmani’s naivety.

To each person he met, Wudon approached as strictly as he did himself, with an unspoken question: what will prevail later in their soul — “we” or “they”? And aloud he mysteriously said: “Let’s see…”. It seems, this is also the theme of windows in his paintings. He depicted houses and churches, wooden huts of Podil and Kurenivka, which went under demolition. People are almost never depicted, but the most diverse windows are present: straight, curved, dancing, dark and bright — as a possibility of living life, as the freedom to choose this or that life path.

Most of all, he valued the creative spark in a person, considering it divine. He himself was happy that God had given him this gift. Everything Baklytskyi touched, he wanted to complete. He took a piece of wood, one or two strokes of a knife — and a face, animal, or flower would emerge. He could make a cameo from a simple cobblestone. Furthermore, he even idolized his favorite city, Kyiv, for its imperfection, its “sketch-like” feature, which he wanted to bring to perfection, complete, and finish with oil.
He wrote the word Artist with a capital letter. Sometimes he signed a painting: “Artist V. Baklytskyi,” — as if there was a need to pronounce this magical word once more, like a spell, and reaffirm himself in this capacity. The integrity of his views and the high energy of his canvases attracted students and followers. A number of artists were formed in his studio. Among his students and followers were V. Vaisberg, V. Zhuk, V. Bykov, L. Kolodnytskyi, I. Lawrence, the aphorist L. Nefediev, and others. The meta-realist Raphael Levchyn studied ceramics under him.

Shortly before his death, Baklytskyi described his oeuvre: 2,500 works (of which about 700 were oil paintings, the rest watercolor, tempera, and author’s techniques), 100 works — engravings, 100 — ceramics, about 80 works — wood carvings.