I LOVE YOU, POLAND!

The fairy tales of our childhood usually began with the words: “Once upon a time, beyond seven hills and seven valleys…” Although Maks Skrzeczkowski’s narrative draws on the archetypes and sensibility of the world of childhood, it also moves between the past and the present. At the same time, it addresses distinctly “adult” themes, deeply rooted in the Polish mentality and everyday life. The title of the series refers to an intimate gesture – an expression of deep affection for a person or a place. The artist deliberately strips this relationship of any discretion, and he does so intentionally. Skrzeczkowski’s series is an artistic and emotional experience unfolding before the viewer’s eyes. The exclamation mark emphasises the urgency of the words and reinforces their expressive character. We love Poland – and we love it in all its forms. Is it a request, a command, an emphatic declaration of love, or perhaps simply a statement of fact? What does the artist turn his photographic attention towards? He addresses subjects that he finds important, complex, bizarre, absurd, beautiful, ironic, or instructive. All these adjectives have one thing in common: they describe a country like no other. With every press of the shutter, Maks opens up unexpected, almost surreal worlds before us. Sometimes it is Pandora’s box; sometimes it is a cornucopia. The project is reminiscent of a family album, in which warm memories intertwine with difficult moments, and the faces of beloved relatives merge with figures that have long since been forgotten. We see an ordinary wire-mesh fence marked by the passage of time – and just behind it, red toadstools with caps made from old tin basins proudly display their beauty. Another fence in Skrzeczkowski’s photograph is guarded by a white plaster lion. Can a crowd of life-size Santa Clauses really stand outside a funeral parlour in the middle of winter? In I Love You, Poland! the answer is definitely yes. In the snow-covered landscape, they patiently wait their turn. Memento mori. Wildlife also fits naturally into this unique fairytale landscape – for example, a two-headed, four-legged bird perched on a harbour breakwater. The more bizarre the image, the more it catches the eye. Pre-war metal railings tied together with string speak not only of the former glory of an anonymous townhouse, but also of the ingenuity of its residents, who have “secured” the staircase they use every day in their own peculiar way. Although Skrzeczkowski’s images may make us smile at first glance, they are far more than a series of amusing visual associations. They offer a strong and urgent voice in the discussion of who we really are and what kind of country we live in. They reflect both our aspirations to be seen in a particular way and the ways in which we define our national identity today. The contrast between the title I Love You, Poland! and the image of a battered, misshapen snowman standing in the middle of a grey landscape becomes both a nostalgic return to childhood and a poignant allegory of the present. After all, reality speaks for itself. Iga Niewiadomska (published in the Kwartalnik Fotografia magazine)