We talk with Piotr Michalski about going beyond individualism in creative practice, the queering of history and how art can help us survive the end of the world. Piotr is a student of the Academy of Art in Szczecin, where he studies at the Media Art Faculty. He was awarded an honourable mention in the Best Media Arts Graduation Projects Competition and won the Contemporary Lynx Prize during the recent Media Art Biennale WRO.
Kuba Żary: For this interview you are joining me from your studio. This is why to begin, I would like to ask you what you are currently working on.
Piotr Michalski: I am currently working on a new project which is an individual exhibition, so it is somehow contrary to my recent activities and a bit untypical. This is an interesting and even slightly strange experience for me. At this point, I am only working on dramaturgy; I have not yet reflected on what I will do and how to do it. It is more about considering what the project is going to be about. However, I presume that over time this process will no longer be so individual, it will unseal, I will not be in it on my own.
K.Ż.: When you worked on your last project, that is the film ‘SODOMA: Hiperpopowa epopeja gejowska’ [SODOM, Hyperpop gay epic], you were not alone; you invited a group of artistic personalities to cooperate. Do you feel that opening up to other perspectives and working together as a team are particularly important aspects of your practice at the moment?
P.M.: In the world of art there is a predominant, imaginary figure of an artist who is a hyper-individualist. Such ideation is fuelled by capitalism, which is turning the field of art into a hermetic market where there is not enough space for everyone. For this reason, even in art schools, collective projects are marginalised in favour of the cult of individuality. When I started preparing my diploma project at the Academy of Art in Szczecin, I realised that individual work did not bring me joy. I decided to abandon this mode of work and look for alternatives.
When I was working on ‘Sodoma,’ I noticed that cooperation is the only way in art which makes me truly happy. I not only felt support and got help from others, but witnessed their full involvement in what was going on. It was incredible to see how the concept that came to my mind materialised itself in this whole polyphony. It has been an enormous pleasure for me to see how that work came into being thanks to the effort made by other participants. On the other hand, it has also been a great pleasure for them. It is very important to me that the final result is ours and not just my own.
K.Ż.: To what extent did the idea of ‘Sodoma’ evolve as more people joined the project? Did you try to control all the components of the film, or did you rather listen to what others wanted to add to your narration?
P.M.: I assume that I cannot, and will never be able to do everything. And there is no such need. Each of us has different talents, is proficient in different tools and it is amazing to benefit from that. When we started working on ‘Sodoma,’ I explained to Alina Giza, the costume designer, what my dream of the film was like when I just started dreaming about it. However, I did not ask her to accurately reproduce the visions created by my imagination. On the contrary, I wanted to invite her to join this dream so that we would dream it together from that moment on. She is proficient at sewing and really knows how to do it, while I do not. I knew I could trust her decisions. Music was a similar case. I had vague intuitive feelings about the soundtrack that would fit the entire concept, but I am not able to make music myself. That is why I said to Michał Doroszenko: I am leaving the soundtrack entirely up to you. I am not even trying to imagine it; we will talk about it, discuss what we feel and, this way, we will definitely both be happy with it.
It was all about giving space for everyone to use the best they have in them. All the people I cooperate with are incredibly creative, have wonderfully vivid imaginations and are my source of inspiration. I trust that they can immensely contribute to the project. However, I do not want to treat them as contractors, but as participants. I want us all to dream a dream of what may happen.
K.Ż.: By what may happen you mean regaining the word ‘sodomite’ for the queer community? You use this ancient, insulting expression in your work. Despite being archaic, this word is still a tool used to inflict violence against queer persons. Why did you decide to use it at all?
P.M.: The starting point for this work is life in Poland. One of the problematic social issues here is the attempt to build an ultra-national narrative based on a myth which emphasises a particular importance of where we come from and what kind of blood circulates in our veins. One important reason for the conflict in our society is, euphemistically speaking, the lack of warm feelings towards the queer community. Both of these issues are very clearly portrayed in ‘Sodoma.’
The biblical story about the destruction of Sodom is absurd and pointless from my point of view. Instead of solving the problem, the Almighty destroyed the city, literally wiping it out. Over the centuries, the word ‘sodomite’ established its firm presence in language, and on the basis of its definition, homosexuality is equated with dangerous sexual behaviour. I wanted to find an occasion that would allow me to steer the narrative and to release this word from the burden of being an insult. I realised that the only information we have about what really happened in Sodom comes from external hostile sources. Where is the story written by a sodomite? I wanted to give the floor to those who in my opinion are depreciated in this popular narrative. I am interested in gestures of taking over history, rewriting it in such a way that new groups which have not yet been present in patriarchal, often abusive narrations, are well represented. The queering of history is a way of regaining it, showing that queer, although not canonical, has always been present in it.
Krystyna Dobrzańska. Participatory Art Interview with Krystyna Dobrzańska, laureate of the 8th Media Art Best Diploma Competition
Krystyna Dobrzańska is a film maker and film production manager. In her works, she takes up the topic of power relations, xenophobia and intolerance. Krystyna’s artistic works is characterised by immense sensitivity towards minorities, and in her projects she allows groups at risk of social exclusion to speak for themselves. She relies on simple film making methods, using them as an everyday form of communication.
K.Ż.: You decided to embellish content referring to biblical stories with pop-cultural, fantastically eclectic wrapping.
P.M.: The text is embedded in a biblical context and there are also some inapparent references to Homer or Mickiewicz, which is why I wanted the visual component to be diametrically different. We have drawn from the history of queer art, with exaggerated pop-cultural motives and a camp style. It is a loud scream: ‘We are here and are taking the narration over!’ This aesthetics was discussed and agreed on with the film’s co-creators, but it is fully in line with my private interest in a hyperpop visual culture which transcends borders to such an extent that pop culture becomes a counterculture.
The queer artistic tradition carries some incredible joy and pleasure which in my opinion seems to be a marginal experience in today’s art. I understand this completely, because the situation we find ourselves in is dramatic at many levels and provokes apocalyptic visions. The coming of the end of the world as we know it, is a subject that has still not been properly reflected on by society. We have to face this scenario before we plan a new beginning. Queer art is always bittersweet; it bears the traces of difficult, painful experiences, but it also expresses huge hopes and belief that no end is definitive. Therefore, it is a ready-made tool which can be used for discussing a new beginning that would destroy the current order.
K.Ż.: In the past you talked about the experience of being a queer person using completely different means, for example in the ‘Motherland’ video, which was an intimate and simple film in which you quoted excerpts from conversations with the closest relatives about being gay.
P.M.: I felt I needed to create work such as ‘Motherland’ to work with certain feelings, to close talks that have long ended, but continued in my head. For me personally, that film was kind of a milestone, even more so that it was created in a mentally challenging reality of the pandemic. Working on ‘Sodoma’ was a completely different experience from an emotional perspective. I learnt that I did not have to be alone with my emotions, I did not need to bottle them up. We can talk about feelings and see that others feel the same. It is this community that reveals the full picture of the situation we want to talk about. Opening up to others is something that I missed in my older works. I now know very well that this process, without others, does not teach me enough, does not give me much. After all, the most important thing for me is that we are together. It is a survival strategy, in this unpleasant, difficult situation, let us simply be together and look for moments we can enjoy together. And if the world collapses under the weight of crises, we can only rebuild it if we cooperate.
