The artist Marek Zulawski, translation & Polish-British culture

Hi,

Today, a short translation describing my father's last visit to Zakopane with his cousin Jacek. Both were in their 60s. Jacek later died that same year.

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Here, I feel younger, better, healthier and stronger

Part of the catalogue cover from the Jacek and Marek joint exhibition held in Gdańsk in 2002; the photo of them is likely from the 1960s

April 22, 1976. I’m driving to Zakopane with Jacek. Seen from Obidowa, the panorama of the Tatra Mountains amazes us with its snowy sawtooth ridges. Against the sapphire sky, those peaks so well-known to us stand out with precision and eloquence in the crystal-clear air. 

It’s hard to sit still in the car. A sense of joy overtakes me, that same joy that always accompanies me whenever I return to the mountain land of my childhood. Here, I feel younger, better, healthier and stronger.

Jacek and Julek’s cottage stands where it's always been — and inside, nothing has changed either. The large bench I once built still supports a wooden bucket for water and some spirit stoves. In front of the cottage, there's a field sown with yellow marsh marigolds. Above the dark forested slopes, adorned with clouds, looms the unchanging face of Mount Giewont. Village voices echo from afar. Then, greetings, embraces — familiar faces, familiar names, the warm sound of the most beautiful highland speech in the world.

Krzeptówki. Conversations with Jacek are never as nerve-racking as those with Julek, for whom everything has a political angle. We talk about everything except politics. This time, it’s just the two of us. I chop wood, and Jacek tends the fire under the stove. It's warm in the cottage, but outside the wind is blowing, and fresh snow has fallen. Jacek is very weak and doesn’t want to go outside. He starts playing solitaire. 

Watching him, I feel sad… Just a few years ago in 1973, even though he wasn't in the best of shape, he still had energy and good humour. Back then, we sat here in Krzeptówki in a trio with Julek and took gentle walks through the Western Tatras. It was a beautiful autumn, and the forested slopes were red with beech trees. 

Later, I went to Five Ponds Valley alone.

"Because, you see, Mr. Marek, the thing is — you’re in the same shape today that Jacek was 25 years ago," said Jędrek Krzeptowski, known as Lulek, as we ran down the road together.

How much I love them all — these Jaśeks, Władeks and Józeks — these Zosias, Magdas and Marysias — this entire mountain tribe, full of dignity, imagination, humour and intelligence, among whom I was raised. 

If only they can preserve their distinct character, not allow themselves to be diluted in the sea of mediocrity, not lose their traditional dress, their dialect — and their highlander pride.

So I hope they never go to Warsaw!

A recent photo of the cottage in Krzeptówki, Zakopane

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Opening today in London

Stanisław Wyspiański, an extremely influential early 20th-century Polish artist, is getting a solo show at the National Portrait Gallery in London. I don't know what's there, it could be four paintings for all I know, but I'm sure it's worth checking out if you're anywhere near Trafalgar Square from now until July 13th. Entry is free.

Portrait of Jerzy Żuławski by Wyspiański, 1899

Wyspiański was prolific, creating paintings, plays, poems and even furniture. But he died of syphilis aged just 38. We're very lucky today, as less than a century ago people died of so many diseases that are now completely curable. At some point, I assume all diseases will be gone, and we'll all just die of exhaustion instead 😅

P.s. It turns out there are lots of Polish-themed events happening in the UK this year, and even UK-themed events in Poland too. Some of it should be good. You can see a list of events on the British Council's website.

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That's all for this week. Many thanks for reading. If you want to support the newsletter, please forward it to a friend or donate here.

Adam

Adam Zulawski

TranslatingMarek.com / TranslatePolishMemoirs.com / Other stuff

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