Your work touches on themes such as memory, mortality, and the passage of time. What inspired you to explore these concepts in your art?
I have always believed that preserving memories of loved ones, important places, or events in our minds is a kind of mysterious power through which we can grant them immortality. I’ve always found great joy in browsing family albums, asking about the history of my ancestors, wandering through flea markets, memorial sites, and watching documentaries. As a painter, I sometimes try to create a parallel reality where places and people still pulse with life, and stories continue, perhaps in fantastical ways. I am fascinated by theories of quantum physics and spiritualist notions that suggest we leave behind a record of our energy or aura. I remember being deeply moved by Marcin Wicha’s book “Things I Didn’t Throw Out”. The author organizes the belongings left behind by his deceased mother, simultaneously pondering whether we are defined by what we leave behind. He writes: “I used to think that we remember people as long as we can describe them. Now I think it’s the other way around: they’re with us as long as we can’t. It’s only dead people that we own, reduced to an image or a few sentences. Characters in the background.” The author’s reflections were fascinating yet abstract to me – until a few years ago, when I faced a similar task myself, and now grapple with the challenges of grief every day. I also believe that through art, we can capture fleeting beauty, the souls of loved ones, life itself, and encase them in amber, like an insect. In this way, we can observe them endlessly, without fear that they will dissolve from our memory.
You mention finding inspiration in frames from old films. Do you have specific films or directors that have particularly shaped your artistic vision?
As a young, growing person, I struggled to organize my emotions and relationships with the world. It was a time of the first episodes of melancholy, a sense of incompatibility and feeling mentally like a much older person. I am very sensitive to my surroundings, the emotions of those close to me, and the details of the world around me. When I was a teenager, I escaped from the chaos into literature and cinema, which became my guide to reality, allowing me to feel understood and to develop my sensitivity and imagination in a creative direction. At that time, I spent a lot of time reading biographies of directors, actors, their artistic statements, and interpretations of individual films. As a Polish person, I grew up watching ZSRR fairy tales directed by Aleksandr Rou from the 1960s, which were still being shown on our television, and this also influenced my imagination. Later, the spiritual works of Andrei Tarkovsky, Czech New Wave movies like Daisies, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, animations by Jan Švankmajer and the Quay Brothers’ short films, played a special role for me. I draw a lot of inspiration from silent cinema of the 1920s. The expressive, contrasting frames of the early films often inspire my paintings because they combine the suggestiveness of the image with its technical flaws, which, for me, hold artistic value. Polish cinema of moral anxiety was also significant to me, with artists such as Tadeusz Konwicki, Wojciech Jerzy Has, and Andrzej Żuławski. But also classic filmmakers like Ingmar Bergman, David Lynch, and Charlie Kaufman. I love cinema from the magical realism and surrealism genres.
Your work often bridges the gap between nature, mythology, and folklore. How do you decide which elements or stories to incorporate into a piece?
To be honest, it is usually very intuitive. If I feel that I start noticing a certain symbol in my space more often than others, I begin to observe it and explore its origins. Usually, it is something that resonates with my current reflections, like the figure of the sphinx or the motif of the doppelganger. I try to keep an association journal and note the elements that catch my attention – for example, when I’m in a museum’s archaeological section. I am fascinated by the fact that despite thousands of years and changing iconography, they still manage to affect the subconscious, even without the context of religious cult. I am interested in both the influence of sacralized nature – powerful trees with unusual shapes, obelisks, rare herbs, birds – as well as cult objects created by human hands. To me, this represents both their primal, inspiring power and the probability of the concept of transforming thoughts into physical energy. From the psychological perspective, I always ask myself how much we can influence the perception of a given object by adding an overlay of interesting stories, which suddenly gives an ordinary thing – like a stone – magical significance. I am also aware that as an artist I can create my own mythologies.
How do you view the relationship between your work and your audience?
I believe that if a viewer stops in front of my painting for 10 seconds longer than in front of something else – whether at an exhibition or in the online space – and it sparks any emotions in them, my role as an artist is fulfilled. I work with emotions and stories through various symbols and metaphors. Sometimes, their source and inspiration reach into my personal experiences, serving to break down certain phenomena, sometimes difficult ones, into their basic elements. However, if anyone finds an element of themselves in my paintings, a personal sensitivity, a subjective association – I consider them a co-creator. Especially since the themes of my work often involve melancholy, a sense of being lost, or an atmosphere of strangeness. I believe that through art, we can connect kindred souls, providing comfort and reducing feelings of confusion. I want my audience to feel that everything I do is personal, but it also gives them a voice for creation. Personally, I really enjoy hearing about associations at vernissages; it makes me feel that the painting becomes a bridge to the psyche of another person.
Looking ahead, are there any new themes, techniques, or collaborations you’d like to explore in your future projects?
Well, I have a great fondness for modern intermedia art. I would love to learn how to create visualizations and mapping projections, combining my visions with the transience of light, video, and experimental music. Addressing themes related to transience and spirituality, I feel that I would like to move beyond the physical matter of painting and create something that operates in time and space. During my studies, I studied stage & set design for a while, which brought me closer to understanding the creation of a theatrical performance or film, and I still feel the need to realize myself in this field – perhaps by creating puppet animation.
