Sounds of Freedom: Michał Urbaniak Remembers Zbigniew Seifert.

September 11, 2017, Łódź, Klub Wytwórnia, 11th edition of the Urbanator Days 2017 music workshops. In the photo: Michał Urbaniak, photo by Łukasz Szeląg

As far as I remember, I met Zbigniew Seifert in the mid or late ’60s during a jam session at one of the clubs in Warsaw. At that time, Zbyszek was collaborating with Tomasz Stańko. He was a quiet guy, playing the saxophone. Later, he also started playing the violin, just like me – sometimes combining both instruments.

Polish jazz musicians formed a real family back then – a group of somewhat crazy and courageous people. We played jazz essentially against the system because it was banned as an imperialist influence in the communist country. Music was our whole life at the time. This clearly reflects Zbyszek’s creativity and his work. He even released an album titled Passion.

We first played together in the radio jazz orchestra in Warsaw and then had numerous jam sessions. Recordings were rare because they were controlled by the state record label. We played side by side on saxophones – he on alto and I on tenor, as well as on violins.

Seifert chose a very difficult and ambitious path, inspired by John Coltrane. He created many great pieces in this direction during his time playing jazz violin. You can hear Coltrane’s playing concept, vibe, and energy in Zbyszek’s improvisations – it’s something that comes from different periods of Coltrane’s music. Playing that kind of music isn’t easy; it’s very demanding. To start, you have to be an excellent violinist. At first, it was like a journey into the unknown.

Most of us started with the violin as children. I assume Zbyszek’s path to the saxophone was similar. He fell in love with the saxophone, just like I did, and began playing it. But later, his music became more complex and open, so the violin eventually became his second instrument, and then his primary one.

Zbigniew Seifert, photo by press materials

Both instruments are truly important to me. If I were to compare our approaches, I play more like a saxophonist, while Zbyszek played like a brilliant violinist, deeply rooted in the jazz and cultural spirit.

In the 1960s, we were already traveling abroad, mainly to Germany, although some of us also went to England and the Netherlands. I remember our performances at the Berlin Jazz Festival and other festivals – his playing was extraordinary, even grand. We also recorded together in Germany, and our project was supported by Joachim Ernst Berendt, a well-known jazz critic and producer. He also helped promote Zbyszek and his music.

After some time, I permanently moved to New York and didn’t hear much about Tomek Stańko or Zbyszek Seifert. Then suddenly, Zbyszek appeared there, recording several sessions with outstanding New York musicians like John Scofield and Jack DeJohnette. When Zbyszek arrived in New York for his first recordings, many very famous musicians were excited about him and supported him. It naturally developed from there – the music found its way to the musicians, there was simply no other possibility.

His playing, especially on the violin, was something entirely new – no one had ever gone in that direction before. It was extremely difficult and demanding, but Zbyszek was also a superb classical musician, which helped him push boundaries and achieve what he aimed for. He was a workaholic, a humble person, and his life revolved around music, constant practice, and performing.

Over time, Seifert not only developed his style but also became a leading figure in that genre of violin music. He has numerous solo albums, group recordings, and live performances to his name. The album Man of the Light was a breakthrough for him and for us as well. That album is excellent; we all listen to it more often than others. He worked every day; I remember how he would practice, play solos, and constantly improve – he was truly a dedicated artist.

Album cover of „Man of the Light”

In recent years, I have served as a jury member at several competitions named after him, and I have noticed that many young European musicians emulate his style, both in rhythmic jazz and in the improvised European music that Seifert also performed and recorded. Moreover, playing his music is technically demanding on the violin. I have heard many incredible young virtuosos who can play in Seifert’s style. The competition rules require performing one of Seifert’s pieces, and most participants bring his spirit into their playing – people from the Netherlands, Japan, this year’s Italian violinist, and many others. Truly fantastic young violinists. Many of them can play in his style, but some also choose a more traditional approach, returning to swing and mainstream jazz.

As Coltrane once said: “Don’t imitate me, I’m searching.” Seifert was also searching for his own sounds, and so many years after his passing, he remains a source of inspiration because he was authentic.

Interview: Jacek Gwizdka

Edited by: Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka

The documentary film „Zbigniew Seifert: Interrupted Journey” will be shown on November 8, 2024, during the Austin Polish Film Festival:

The 100th Anniversary of Władysław Reymont’s Nobel Prize for "The Peasants”

The 1905 portrait of Władysław Reymont by Jacek Malczewski is available on the digital collection of the National Museum in Warsaw at cyfrowe.mnw.art.pl

Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka

On November 13, 1924, Władysław Reymont was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for his monumental novel “The Peasants.” This four-volume epic, which Reymont wrote between 1901 and 1908, was published in installments in “Tygodnik Illustrowany” from 1904 to 1909. The novel’s action spans ten months—from September to July at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries—and is set in the small village of Lipce. It is divided into four parts, each reflecting the cycle of nature: “Autumn,” “Winter,” “Spring,” and “Summer.” The renowned literary critic Kazimierz Wyka emphasized that Reymont created a unique work in Polish literature, one that not only tells the story of the peasants’ lives but also faithfully captures their mentality, customs, and worldview. In his analysis, Wyka noted how the author constructs the depicted world through the rhythms of nature, cyclical agricultural work, the changing seasons, and festivals that dictate the rhythm of the characters’ lives. “The Peasants” is also a study of universal human emotions and conflicts—love, jealousy, greed, and the struggle for power—giving the novel a timeless and universal character.

Władysław Reymont, circa 1897, photo available at the Polona Digital Library

Władysław Reymont, born on May 7, 1867, as Władysław Stanisław Rejment in Kobiele Wielkie, within the Russian Partition, spent his youth during a time when Poland was divided among three empires. Artistically connected with the Young Poland movement, he drew inspiration from the lives of ordinary people and the Polish countryside. In his works, such as The Promised Land and The Comedienne, he portrayed not only the beauty but also the hardships and injustices that were the daily realities of his characters. Before becoming a writer, Reymont worked as a railway laborer and an actor in a traveling theater, experiences that later inspired his literary work.

The Nobel Prize in Literature, awarded for “the most outstanding work of an idealistic tendency,” recognized Reymont’s epic narrative and his realistic and poetic depiction of rural Polish life. However, the Nobel Committee’s decision in 1924 was unexpected. Although Reymont was respected in Poland, his fame did not match that of other candidates, such as the German writer Thomas Mann, the Russian playwright Maxim Gorky, or the 1915 French Nobel laureate Romain Rolland. In addition to honoring the literary value of The Peasants, the prize for the Polish author also had a political dimension—it highlighted international recognition of Poland, which regained its independence in 1918 after 123 years of partition.

Reymont, who had long struggled with health issues, including a heart attack, did not receive the news of the award with excessive enthusiasm, aware that it might be his last great achievement. He passed away a year later, on December 5, 1925, at the age of only 58. In letters to friends, he wrote about the “irony of life”—on one hand, worldwide fame and recognition, and on the other, the battle with illness that prevented him from fully enjoying his success. Due to health reasons, he was unable to personally accept the award in Stockholm; instead, it was received on his behalf on December 10, 1924, by Alfred Wysocki, the then-Polish diplomatic representative in Sweden. The monetary prize, amounting to 116,000 Swedish crowns, helped the writer with medical treatments and provided financial security for his family.

On August 15, 1925, Władysław Reymont visited the small village of Wierzchosławice near Tarnów at the invitation of Wincenty Witos. In honor of the writer, a grand harvest festival, known as the “Reymont Harvest Festival,” was organized. In the photo, Władysław Reymont (center) is pictured with his wife on the honorary platform

Reymont’s success was a source of immense national pride for Poles, especially in the context of rebuilding the state after regaining independence. Newspapers such as Kurier Warszawski and Rzeczpospolita published enthusiastic articles, praising the writer’s talent and the significance of his work for Polish national identity. Reactions abroad varied—some critics expressed surprise that the prize was awarded to a lesser-known author. German newspapers, such as the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, emphasized that Thomas Mann, the author of Buddenbrooks, was more deserving of the distinction. The Swedes, however, believed that Reymont brought freshness and authenticity to European literature, fully justifying their choice.

On November 22, 1924, Warsaw’s Tygodnik Illustrowany published an article titled “The European Press on Reymont.” The article revealed how deeply Europeans were engaged with literature at the time and how moved they were by the news of the award. There were extensive articles about the author (some newspapers dedicated entire issues to Reymont) as well as critical essays on The Peasants and brief informational notes. Tygodnik Illustrowany also published a letter from Romain Rolland:

Thank you very much for sending me the French translations of your two books. As for The Peasants (Autumn), I hold it in the highest regard. What a fertile and rich land. (…)

Happy is the one who, like you, is not merely a laborer of books (as Goethe said, the more one writes or reads such books, the more one becomes a book himself!)—but is instead the land itself—his own land, in the full cycle of the four seasons!

I congratulate you, I congratulate not just you but your entire nation through you. I rejoice that Poland has you, and I thank you for allowing me the privilege of knowing you.

Believe me, dear Mr. Władysław Reymont, that I am fully devoted to you with all my admiration.

Romain Rolland

The widespread popularity of Reymont’s epic led to numerous translations and publications of The Peasants worldwide. Reymont himself was invited to attend meetings at literary societies across Europe. On June 6, 1925, Tygodnik Illustrowany published an article titled “The Worldwide Fame of Reymont,” in which the author discussed the many invitations the writer accepted during the spring of 1925. Although Reymont had been unable to accept the Nobel Prize in person, these later travels benefited him. The color returned to his cheeks, and a smile reappeared on his face, along with his former energy. During this period, he frequently heard that the literature he created had become a part of the world’s cultural heritage. American newspapers expressed gratitude that the Nobel Committee had recognized this previously lesser-known yet truly brilliant author.

A banquet was held on May 15, 1925, by the France-Poland Society and the Société des Gens de Lettres in Paris in honor of Władysław Reymont (second from the left). To the writer’s right sits the French government representative, Minister de Monzie, and to his left, the president of the French Society of Writers, Legolfic. Photo published in Tygodnik Illustrowany, June 6, 1925

A hundred years after being awarded the Nobel Prize, The Peasants remains one of the most significant works of Polish literature. The novel has inspired numerous film, theater, and television adaptations, including the latest animated painting version, which has received acclaim both in Poland and abroad. The Peasants continues to be studied by literary critics and scholars who analyze its social layers as well as the symbolism of nature and the life cycle.

In the context of global climate change, Reymont’s message about the harmony between humans and nature takes on new relevance. The themes of returning to tradition, defending local cultures, and preserving agriculture in the face of globalization are presented in The Peasants in a way that remains both timely and thought-provoking.

“Tygodnik Illustrowany”, June 6, 1925

Polish Nobel Prize Laureates in Literature:

• Henryk Sienkiewicz – 1905

• Władysław Reymont – 1924

• Czesław Miłosz – 1980

• Wisława Szymborska – 1996

• Olga Tokarczuk – 2018

Sources: Wikipedia, TVP, Culture.pl, NobelPrize.org, Tygodnik Illustrowany, collections of the University Library in Łódź.

G A L L E R Y

Photo by J. Sokołowska-Gwizdka

Between 1888 and 1893, Władysław Reymont worked as a railway guard for the Warsaw-Vienna Railway and lived, among other places, in Lipce in this house located by the railway crossing. Photo by J. Sokołowska-Gwizdka

The house of Władysław Reymont in Lipce Reymontowskie. It was here that the writer set the action of The Peasants. Lipce (now Lipce Reymontowskie) served as inspiration but are not depicted exactly as they appear in the novel. Photo by J. Sokołowska-Gwizdka

Lipce Reymontowskie, a historic peasant cottage located within the Władysław Reymont Museum, photo by Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka

The Władysław Reymont Museum in Lipce Reymontowskie, photo by J. Sokołowska-Gwizdka

The Władysław Reymont Museum in Lipce Reymontowskie, photo by J. Sokołowska-Gwizdka

The PEASANTS official trailer

Trailer on youtube

Feast of Fire - A Film about Happiness, Ambition, and Secrets

A conversation with director Kinga Dębska, conducted during the 48th Polish Film Festival in Gdynia.

Feast of Fire

A Film about Happiness, Ambition, and Secrets

Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka: During this year's festival in Gdynia, your latest film, adapted from Jakub Małecki's novel, qualified for the main competition. What inspired you in the book to bring it to the screen?

Kinga Dębska: The journey began when the producer, Piotr Dzięcioł, reached out with the offer. While I generally lean towards crafting films from my own scripts, I thought, "If you have this book, send it to me." At that time, I was in Zakopane, recuperating from a harsh bout of COVID. After reading it, I felt as though I'd received a story that demanded to be told.

Considering your previous films and their thematic undertones, which significant social issue is underscored in this film?

Kinga: This film is complex, akin to a box of chocolates; its essence is hard to encapsulate in a single theme. It's undeniably about happiness and the universal right to it, including for the disabled. The narrative touches upon movement and stillness, ambition, advocacy for oneself, lingering secrets from the past, and much more. To me, at its core, it's about the concept of letting go. Genuine maturity is attained when we can release ambitions that hold us back.

In the film, Anastazja, a disabled girl, communicates non-verbally. Yet, she guides us throughout the story.

Kinga: That's the essence of cinema—it offers windows into worlds and perspectives we might overlook. Here, we're granted insight into the inner realm of someone with cerebral palsy. Their life can be rich, vibrant, and they can find genuine happiness, much like our ever-smiling protagonist.

Your prior films exemplify thorough research on the subjects portrayed. Was that approach maintained here?

Kinga: Indeed. I ventured into two realms I was initially unfamiliar with before directing this film: ballet and disability. We held extensive consultations with disabled youths. We had to devise a communication system for the actress, determining her movements and demeanor. Zuzia, a perpetually smiling girl in a wheelchair, inspired our character. Both Paulina Pytlak, who played Anastazja, and I engaged with Zuzia regularly, questioning her about her emotions and happiness. It emerged that she might well be the happiest among us.

The character of Anastazja sounds like it posed a formidable challenge for the actress.

Kinga: Precisely. Paulina showcased immense dedication. To embody the physical nuances of a physically disabled person, she engaged in intensive training. Her commitment ran so deep that post-filming, she found walking challenging. Her passion profoundly impacted me. We arranged for post-filming massages to facilitate her recovery. I was also vigilant about her emotional well-being. This being her debut significant role, I'd hope she isn't pigeonholed into similar characters in the future.

Anastazja's on-screen sibling, Łucja (Joanna Drabik), is an accomplished ballet dancer.

Kinga: Yes, Łucja is associated with the Polish National Ballet. We emphasized authenticity, showcasing real ballet halls, stages, and a troupe of international dancers. Our collaboration involved the Teatr Wielki in Warsaw for dance sequences, and the ballet ensemble hailed from Opera Nova in Bydgoszcz.

"Feast of Fire" appears to emphasize determination, with both Łucja and Anastazja displaying an innate drive to overcome their physical confines.

Kinga: True. Yet, their fervor occasionally borders on excess, manifesting repercussions. It's a universal truth that overburdening our bodies has consequences.

The narrative is emotionally layered. The selfless father, portrayed by Tomasz Sapryk, emerges as a pivotal character, brimming with love and patience for both daughters.

Kinga: But he's not depicted as a martyr, and that's deliberate. Although the weight of responsibility is palpable, he remains resilient, avoiding self-pity. If professional therapy is beyond reach, he embarks on a self-learning journey.

Kinga Preis

Józefina, the neighbor played by Kinga Preis, brings a different dynamic.

Kinga: Józefina is not without her struggles. Yet, she cloaks her pain with a veneer of joy. This facade, the perennial "keep smiling" mindset, resonates deeply with me.

Your films have consistently tackled pressing societal issues. What's the takeaway you anticipate for this film?

Kinga: My aspiration is that it nudges viewers towards greater empathy. Whether addressing racial differences or disabilities, the underlying message is acceptance. In the film's denouement, everyone dances in unison—a symbolic affirmation that the world shines brightest when diversity thrives in harmony.

Crisis Point

A conversation with the screenwriter - Marcin Ciastoń.

Marcin CiastoŃ (Photo by Agata Murawska)

Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Mr. Marcin, during this year's Polish Film Festival in Austin, Texas, we are showing the psychological thriller "Wyrwa," inspired by Wojciech Chmielarz's novel. How was your experience adapting this novel into a screenplay?

Marcin Ciastoń: Producers Joanna and Paweł Wernikowie, along with director Bartosz Konopka, brought me on board for this project. Before that happened, I of course read the book and quite quickly thought of an idea for it. Intriguingly, I found echoes of myself in the main character, especially in the contemplative "what if" moments. We rarely think about our relationships at crisis points, we prefer not to imagine it. That was enough for me. One of the more important decisions and changes from the original, which the film's co-creators accepted, was moving [SPOILER] the funeral of the hero's wife to the end of the story. The book plays it out differently. I wanted all his actions to be driven by the desire to know the truth before this event. This required me to rearrange some sequences to achieve a coherent story. I wanted to stay as close to the original as possible and I hope that despite these changes, I achieved that.

In the film, the journeys and experiences of the characters are revealed progressively, painting a profound psychological portrait of each individual.

Every novel and every film are not just events, but primarily emotions, so even if the characters don't say the exact same words, and things don't happen to them at the exact same moments as in the pages of the novel, it's the emotions that convey the essence of the story. That was my idea. I also proposed a way to get into the hero's head through his imaginations about the accident, which recur several times, in different versions. We also talked a lot with the director about the convention of the story – the story is dramatic, but we looked for moments that would give the audience a breath and highlight the relationships between the characters. This led us to elements of humor. The film blends intense seriousness with moments of levity. Many of these comedic elements were further developed on set, in the heat of shooting, in the director's vision. Of course, the work went through many versions of the script, long conversations and collective reflection on the journey that our characters go through. I introduced certain ideas to the script during the pre-production period – both the selected locations and actor readings turned out to be very inspiring.

In “Wyrwa”, the seamless blend of humor and tension captivates viewers, often leaning more towards creating suspense than amusement. How do you strategically intensify this tension throughout the script? And how do you navigate the characters' intricate narratives, ensuring they resonate authentically while melding humor and tension?

Scriptwriting can be likened to a game – sometimes it's like piecing together a puzzle, at other times it's akin to playing Jenga or solving a sudoku. One wrong move and something is off; you must go back, erase, correct. Writing is rewriting, so as we get to know the characters better - this journey is a bit like forming new relationships, usually with fictional people - we begin to understand what drives them, what they fear, what pleases them. And we put them to the test, put them in situations they'd rather not be in, to see how they'll cope. In the case of "Wyrwa", these elements were already present. The task was to extract their essence and create a unique "dish", like a MasterChef dish, heavily inspired by the original, often faithful, but perhaps affecting different senses. There's of course a plan – before I start writing, I get to know the characters, define them, identify them. Sometimes this comes out in the scenes because they might do something unexpected. Often, it's analyzing their behaviors, thinking about it, playing the psychologist. I'm fascinated by this duality of creativity, because as authors, we need knowledge but also to be deeply inside the characters' heads – put them in various situations and observe them from the inside. It fascinates me.

Sometimes novel authors are so attached to their text that they aren't willing to accept changes. However, literary language and film language differ significantly. How did you collaborate with Wojciech Chmielarz?

At the beginning, I felt some stress because it was the first time I was adapting another author's story, especially such a well-known and respected writer. But there were no restrictions imposed on me. I had freedom; I could suggest, and at worst I would face rejection. But most often my suggestions led to discussions and finding the direction the director wanted. After reading the script, Wojtek sent his comments which were valid, but they didn't really interfere with the text. I really value such trust, also from the director and producers. My rapport with Wojtek was stellar, a connection that extended even after the conclusion of my assignment. We even recorded an episode together in his podcast series "Crime on Monday", where we discussed the differences in our work, and most importantly, we celebrated the film's premiere together. It was indeed heartening to read Wojtek's laudatory remarks about my screenplay in subsequent interviews.

When writing the screenplay, did you envision the cast?

Not right away, but indeed quite early, which is rare. Initially, there was talk of the dream cast of producers and the director. Maybe I got a bit influenced by that. I often try to imagine a character, even if not as a known actor or actress, then someone I've seen somewhere or know. When the cast was confirmed, I was very pleased. It was an honor for me to write a script for such great talents. Reading the script with them later was also very helpful. I could refine details and supplement the script with how they see their characters. The rest is the magic that happens on set.

Photos by Robert Palka

Do you prefer working on a film script that originated in your imagination, or on an adaptation of a book where the plot is already set?

There are many great stories written by authors that can be told in a new way, given form, conveyed with emotion. It's no less of a creative achievement, and I'm ready for such challenges. But I will certainly never stop working on original ideas. Creating a world and characters from scratch has an incredible allure, and it will always be my first instinct. I will always prioritize searching for stories around and within myself.

You made your debut with the excellent film “Operation Hyacinth”, based on a true story about the gay community during the times of the Polish People's Republic. You received an award for the script during the Gdynia Festival. Which other films for which you've written the script are particularly close to your heart?

I'd rather mention a TV series waiting for its premiere, for which I wrote several episodes. I had the pleasure to work on the story for the entire season together with its creators, Agnieszka Szpila and Dominika Prejdova, and our head writer Katarzyna Tybinka. It's a unique project that combines supernatural and crime elements with historical and family drama. I love such combinations. A unique project and very inspiring collaboration – “Black Daisies”, which should be available this year in Poland on Canal+.

 What are you working on now?

I'm writing a series that must remain a secret for now. Apart from that, I'm developing two feature films with directors – one story is set during World War II, the other in Latvia in the 1960s. This seems to be my calling, as in both cases we're experimenting with a genre that isn't straightforward, seeking new forms for often familiar content, of course trying not to break rules where they are necessary.

Looking at the Hollywood writers' strike, do you feel the threat of new technologies, such as ChatGPT, to your job?

I believe that in Poland, regulations regarding AI are also necessary, especially when it comes to using cultural resources and intellectual property for AI training. The solutions developed by the Writers Guild of America are, in my opinion, optimal. It would be a cruel paradox if a program trained on the creative works of creators ultimately eliminated them from the job market. However, I think we need to come to terms with the evolution of our profession. I'd rather think of it as the emergence of a new tool, like the Internet was invaluable for research. Getting to know a scriptwriter's browser history is often an intriguing experience. Currently, ChatGPT serves as a sounding board for scriptwriters, offering inspiration from known concepts. While it often presents familiar solutions, this rapid processing can inadvertently lead to the development of unique ideas.

Polish Posters Conquer the World

An exclusive interview with graphic artist – Patrycja Longawa, conducted by Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka. Patrycja is a winner of over 70 awards in prestigious utility art competitions, and her works have been showcased in 400 exhibitions across 40 countries around the globe. (More posters! and the Polish language version of this interview is also available on CultureAve.com)

Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Patrycja, you crafted an outstanding poster for us to announce the 18th Polish Film Festival in Austin. Its originality and meticulous detail stand out in every aspect. It not only meets the design expectations but also captivates attention, making it hard for anyone to simply walk by without taking notice. What inspired you to delve into applied graphics?

Patrycja Longawa: I think I "caught the bug" for this passion during classes in Design Studio II at the University of Rzeszów under Dr. Wiesław Grzegorczyk, professor at UR. It was there that I created my first works and fell in love with applied graphics.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Are there any poster designers who have significantly influenced your education or served as mentors?

Longawa: At this point, I should introduce two masters. The first is Professor Stanisław Białogłowicz, under whom I did my bachelor's in painting. During his classes, I learned to consciously use color, composition, and form. The second person I'd like to mention is the previously mentioned Dr. Wiesław Grzegorczyk, professor at UR, under whose supervision I designed my first posters. His feedback and corrections, as well as the fact that he himself is a poster artist, greatly motivated and inspired me, which ultimately led me to pursue posters professionally.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: You reside and practice in Rzeszów, yet you've garnered international acclaim. With over 400 exhibitions, both domestically and at several esteemed global venues, along with numerous awards, what do you attribute this phenomenal success to?

Longawa: It's hard for me to answer this question because I must judge myself. I believe that my desire for self-development and the immense amount of work I put into it played a significant role. Of course, I realize that, in many cases, hard work alone is not enough, and sometimes timing matters. Additionally, thanks to my painting studies, I understood how essential an individual artistic language is, which allowed me to develop my own recognizable poster style.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Do you think you have found a universal language of communication that is able to be perceived across all cultures? 

Longawa: I wouldn't make such unequivocal statements. Yes, posters are among the few media that allow reaching many recipients regardless of nationality. A good example might be a social poster. However, we should remember that many factors influence the clarity of the message, and it's not always possible to standardize it.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Which award was the most surprising for you?

Longawa: It was the award from the Moscow Global Biennale of Graphic Design Golden Bee from Russia in 2020 in the main POSTER UNLIMITED category. Golden Bee is one of the most prestigious poster competitions in the world. To put things into perspective, the organizers mentioned that approximately 30,000 posters were submitted to the competition that year.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Being from the younger generation, you've grown up in an era of ubiquitous computer access. While the computer might be your primary tool, do you still enjoy tactile interactions with paper, experiencing color and space in reality rather than just on-screen?

Longawa: Absolutely. I frequently start with preliminary sketches using traditional methods, like pencil on paper. I've also made test prints occasionally to verify colors or to select the appropriate paper type for my posters.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Is designing posters, for you, art, or artistic craftsmanship?

Longawa: It's a combination of these fields, as a poster combines both worlds.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: Do you think the rapid advancement of technology poses a threat to creators?

Longawa: We're witnessing an unprecedented surge in the development of artificial intelligence, which could potentially threaten many creators. Those most at risk might be emerging artists who are just starting their journey in the art world. However, I'm of the belief that genuine art can stand its ground. I also feel that many will continue to commission posters from seasoned artists due to their immense artistic value.

Sokołowska-Gwizdka: We are eagerly awaiting the exhibition of your posters, which will soon take place at the AO5 Gallery in Austin, Texas. We are proud that young Polish creators are conquering the world.

 Interviewed by: Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka 

Poster for the 18th Austin Polish Film Festival by Patrycja Longawa,

Color is a Vitamin

Julian Stańczak

In the Studio

In an interview with Tomasz Magierski, the director discusses his documentary, 'Julian Stańczak. To Catch the Light'. The film delves into the mesmerizing world of Julian Stańczak, a seminal figure in the Op-art movement and a Polish-American artist renowned for his vibrant geometric patterns that play with perception.

Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka: During this year's Polish Film Festival in Austin, we will present your documentary film 'Julian Stańczak. To Catch the Light.' The film took 8 years to make. Why so long?

Tomasz Magierski: First, thank you very much for inviting the film to the festival. I am delighted that the audience in Austin will get to know the life and work of Julian Stańczak. I met Julian 8 years ago at a documentary film festival in Chagrin Falls near Cleveland. We met for dinner and discussed the potential film about him. A few months later, we conducted a three-day interview that became the foundation of the film's narrative, guiding our search for archival materials and shaping the film's concept.

At the same time, I was working on the documentary 'Przemyśl: Broken Dreams,' which reveals the unknown story of a teenage poet and writer, Reni Spiegel, who was murdered in Przemyśl in 1942. The film 'Julian Stańczak. To Catch the Light' is the second part of my Przemyśl diptych, describing the wartime tragedy of the Jews and the Siberian odyssey of Poles. Fortunately, these projects received funding from PISF (Polish Film Institute) and co-production from TVP1 (Polish Television) and FINA (National Film Archive – Audiovisual Institute).

The film presents the figure of a world-renowned painter, a representative of the art movement called Op-art, living in the United States but born in Poland, near Przemyśl. What about this artist captivated you so much that you chose to make a film about him?

Julian was born in Borownica, a village of a few hundred people. Later, the family moved to Przemyśl, where he attended primary school. At the age of 12, he and his family were deported to Siberia, and when I met him, he was already a retired professor from the Cleveland Institute of Art (CIA). So much happened in his life, not to mention art. Despite all of life's obstacles and dramas, Julian did not feel sorry for himself and had a lot of self-irony. His memories from the time of exile are from a child's perspective, not an adult filtering their memory over the years. This honesty in his account of his experiences led to the film's creation. Of course, it was also advantageous that Julian had a family album, which makes the film very personal. Art and his color theory are the film's second track, aiming to help the viewer understand his perspective on art and maybe start seeing the world differently.

In the film, we trace the protagonist's trajectory from Siberia, through wartime Africa, to the USA. With in-depth documentation that includes footage of General Władysław Anders, a key figure in Polish WWII history, and scenes of marching Junaks, a Polish scouting organization, did you make use of a significant amount of previously unreleased historical material?

The archival material concerning Russia is limited. Unlike the Germans, the Russians did not record their crimes. Most of the film archives come from the Sikorski Institute in London. I have a very good relationship with the Institute as I often use their materials, and this time they provided me with some photographs that I didn't even know existed. I also always use the collections of the Piłsudski Institute in New York, where I usually find the right photographs to tell the story. I must mention that these archival materials have never looked technically better than in our film, thanks to the work of our cinematographer, Maćek Magowski, who handled the post-production of the image. As for the paintings and family archives, Julian's wife, Barbara, has everything organized, and our collaboration with her has been and continues to be wonderful.

Julian Stańczak, as a child in Siberia, lost the use of his right hand. It's incredible that he learned to paint with his left hand. Did he discuss how, despite this disability, he chose to pursue painting?

It was a process. He wanted to play the flute, but that became impossible. I think that as a sensitive person, he wanted to find a way to express himself artistically. The disability only caused greater determination because he never wanted people to pity him. He also did not pity himself. At the beginning of our collaboration, we agreed that this would not be a film about a one-handed painter.

The painter gained fame after the "Optical Paintings" exhibition held at the Martha Jackson Gallery in New York in 1964. It was at this time that the term Op-art was coined. Did this exhibition open a window to the world for him?

Certainly. A year later, there was another exhibition at MOMA, "The Responsive Eye," which resonated even more worldwide. Julian's paintings are now in most modern art museums and are still exhibited in galleries worldwide. Just a few months ago, his work was featured at The Mayor Gallery in London.

The artist served as a painting professor at the Cleveland Institute of Art for 38 years. Considering his significant contributions, how was Julian Stańczak's legacy commemorated in the USA following his passing in 2017?

In Cleveland, a mural Julian created in 1973 has been restored. Barbara discusses this restoration in the film. Additionally, in downtown Cincinnati, one can find a 100-meter three-dimensional piece by Julian adorning a building facade. Lastly, there are plans for a bust of Julian Stańczak on the grounds of the Cleveland Institute of Art, though the status of that project remains uncertain at this time.

Regarding the painter's wife, Barbara Stańczak, whom you mentioned, she runs a foundation in his name. What is the main objective of this Foundation?

The Foundation promotes Stańczak's work, orchestrates exhibitions, and facilitates discussions on Op-art. Barbara is a sculptor and has always been Julian's primary art critic, so the foundation is in good hands. Next spring, there will be a major exhibition of Julian Stańczak's work at the Museum of Modern Art in Łódź. The Foundation is involved in this, and we will also show the film then. Another commendable endeavor of the Foundation is the publication of "The Stanczak Color Quarterly", a periodical updating readers on pertinent events and activities.

Did you befriend the painter? What kind of person was he?

It's hard to talk about friendship from a distance. I held immense respect for him. He trusted in my approach and the work I was doing. This trust is why he was so open with me, and by extension, with the audience and history, especially now that he has passed away.

Your film garnered an award at the Fates of Poles Festival in 2023. Could you share more about other screenings and the general reception of the film?

The film premiered in Cleveland at the CIA, where Julian spent many years teaching. It was attended by professors, students, and even Siberian deportees. At a recent screening in New York, a 100-year-old former gulag prisoner, Mr. Fryderyk, drove himself from New Jersey. Such screenings are always interesting to me because if people are moved by the film, they open up with their experiences, which is always intriguing for me as a documentarian. We have also showcased the film across Poland at various screenings and festivals. Currently, we are in anticipation of its premiere on TVP1 (Polish Television).

Interviewed by Joanna Sokołowska-Gwizdka

Tomasz Magierski

Director of the documentary: 'Julian Stańczak. To Catch the Light'

Documentary 'In the Name of the Highest Virtues' Chronicles the Boba Family's Brave Fight for Homeschooling During the Polish People's Republic Era

As Danuta Boba celebrated her 100th birthday, she was honored with the Medal of the National Education Commission for her contributions to Home Education. In the film, her daughter, Bożena Boba-Dyga, reflects on her mother's journey:

EXCERPT from Bożena Boba-Dyga (Kraków):

"On January 27, 1921, Danusia was born into the bourgeois Vašin family in Krakow. As you can easily calculate, she has turned one hundred years old, and what's more, she's still going strong. This round anniversary, which we usually wish for by singing "Happy 100th," became an occasion to recall her extraordinary story. After all, she was the only home educator during the PRL era when homeschooling was legally prohibited, and any resistance against the "people's power" was severely suppressed.

But first, let's clarify: homeschooling... what is it? It is an education based on the family, where learning, upbringing, and everyday life intertwine into one. It's an adventure in which parents not only teach their children, but also learn from them. Together they explore and discover new areas of knowledge. It's the parents who decide what, when, and how it will be discovered – you can teach only mathematics for a week, then humanities; there are no bells and compulsory class hours, you can adjust the lessons to the weather and mood. You can hire home tutors and have control over whom your child interacts with. Typically, such education is associated with a significant time saving, as teaching a child the basic curriculum required to pass state exams in specific subjects takes much less time than a school year. So, children have plenty of time to acquire additional knowledge, develop creativity, interests, and passions. This form of education had been known for centuries and was popular before the war, but after the war, in Poland, the communist regime sought to educate a Homo Sovieticus; education was a tool for shaping the "citizen," so it couldn't escape control. Hence, homeschooling was banned, school attendance was made mandatory, and schools were standardized and nationalized, eliminating educational pluralism.

Danusia was a top student before the war, the best student in school, with "very good" marks from top to bottom on her report card. As a ten-year-old girl, she began tutoring. Sometimes, teachers asked her to prepare students for the entrance exam to the gymnasium or even to conduct lessons when the class couldn't understand a topic, especially in mathematics, in which the girl excelled and loved above all. Danusia also had other interests – she was socially active in the Marian Sodality, sang in a choir, and learned to play the violin. At first, she planned to become a journalist – she liked to write. But she quickly changed her mind and dreamed of working in a laboratory. She decided to apply to the Faculty of Metallurgy at the Krakow University of Mining and Metallurgy (where only a few women studied at the time). After excellently passing her final exams in 1939, she was accepted. However, she didn't start her studies – the war broke out. Danusia fortunately avoided being deported for forced labor in Germany. Her father, a master watchmaker, saved her by enrolling her as an apprentice in a guild. As an apprentice, and later a journeyman, she was safe.

From the beginning of the war, however, Dana bravely engaged in other dangerous activities – first, she was a paramedic in a field hospital set up for wounded soldiers by the Jesuits; then, during the occupation, she worked in the Polish Care Committee – she helped refugees and Jews. She saved three classmates from the Holocaust, including Irena Hoffmann from her class, who later moved to the USA. She dyed their hair and made false documents. Being a beautiful blonde and fluent in German, she was effective in handling matters in German offices. She also taught in secret gatherings, preparing three sisters Anna, Ewa, and Zofia Jachimskie (sisters of the later distinguished photogrammetrist from AGH, Prof. Józef Jachimski) for the final exams in Polish language, history, and mathematics.

In 1944, she met Bartłomiej Boba, who was 22 years older than her. Her then-fiancé, Waldemar, felt sorry for his friend, an old bachelor who was sick and had no one to even give him a cup of tea. Moved by the story, Dana sent a servant with a meal. The old bachelor, once he recovered, came to thank her with a bouquet of roses. For them, it was love at first sight. Dana broke off her engagement and, after just three months of acquaintance, married Bartłomiej. They shared similar ideals, passions, aspirations, and worldview. He loved science, knowledge, and community work. The war was still ongoing, but victory was tilting in the Allies' favor. After the war, it was proposed that Bartłomiej become the governor of Wrocław on behalf of General Władysław Sikorski's government. He was also a shareholder of the National Bank of Poland, so the future looked promising.

However, the Yalta Conference changed the course of history. Poland was incorporated into the sphere of influence of the Soviet Union. From the outset, Bartłomiej consistently opposed the communist system throughout his life. He saw it as founded on false premises. He disapproved of expropriation and considered the idea of communal property to be utopian and inconsistent with human nature. As time proved, he rightly anticipated that society would neglect or plunder the common good instead of caring for it. He did not trust the USSR, expecting terror from the Bolsheviks.

After the war, Bartłomiej temporarily became the director of the Agricultural-Mechanical High School in Kozy. However, he quickly fell out of favor with the authorities for refusing to remove crosses from classrooms and was punitively transferred to an agricultural school in Lenna at the other end of the country. In 1952, the eldest daughter of Dana and Bartłomiej, Bogumiła, reached school age. But due to their beliefs, the parents decided not to send her to a communist school. Two years later, the twin boys - Bogusław and Bogdan - also reached school age. They were also homeschooled by Dana. The authorities began to drag Bartłomiej through the courts and impose fines on the family. Initially, he wrote appeals, explaining his decision calmly and rationally. However, over the years, his appeals took on a more defiant tone.

During the Stalinist terror in Poland, the Security Service (UB) practically camped outside the family's home, subjecting them to constant harassment. Bartłomiej was often handcuffed and taken away at gunpoint. As a form of harassment and repression, the roof of the Bobas' residence was removed during winter under the pretense of repairs, but it was never replaced. They also faced a coal purchase ban in their name. One night, a former student of Bartłomiej's brought a load of coal, citing a dream his wife had about the children freezing. Despite all this, they stood firm in their beliefs.

Danuta continued to homeschool. She constantly improved her skills to teach all subjects to now four children, as another daughter, Bolesława, was born in 1949. Bartłomiej nurtured the children's additional interests, providing them with reading materials from his vast library and talking about history, nature, travels, politics, and religion. He also took care of legal matters. The family lived in poverty as Bartłomiej was denied the right to work due to his opposition activities. To make ends meet, they sold family heirlooms, including silverware, jewelry, and pieces from Bartłomiej's collection of art and books. Fortunately, they found support from people who believed in the same ideals and admired their resistance.

The regime tried to strip the Bobas of their parental rights, take away the children and place them in different orphanages or deport them to the USSR.

What became of the five home-schooled siblings? Bogumiła became a doctor, specializing in surgery and trauma orthopedics. After the fall of communism, she served as a Member of the Polish Parliament and has been a councilor since 2006. Bogusław, an artist, worked for TV Kraków and received awards for city beautification. Bogdan studied multiple disciplines and currently teaches in a Waldorf school in Kraków. Bolesława also studied various fields and is a teacher and lecturer. As for me, the youngest, I was homeschooled until primary school. During the "Solidarity" movement in 1981, my parents allowed me to attend one of Poland's oldest high schools. Later, I graduated from the Faculty of Conservation and Restoration of Art at the Academy of Fine Arts in Krakow and studied in Germany..."

Through the lens of the Boba family's resilience and dedication, 'In the Name of the Highest Virtues' serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring spirit of individuals who champion the right to educate in the face of adversity.