The expressions, which Kapuściński used in the context of Wójcik’s work, come back after many years in regard to Lach. The written and photo reporter Filip Springer and photojournalist Mariusz Forecki commented on Lach’s book in their texts, unafraid to use big words about getting close with a hero, getting trust, sawing doubt in the viewer and temporarily depriving the viewer of comfort. Does Lach limit himself to acquainting a group of excluded persons? Surely not.
Psie Pole
Adam Lach photographed a sixty-person Roma family living in Psie Pole, a district of Wrocław. He showed a part of their space – an encampment with temporary barracks constructed from whatever they found. The narration flows through two channels: the pictures are accompanied by the stories of the inhabitants of this place, which were written down by Katarzyna Dybowska.
The statements written down and chosen by her are devoid of an authorial style and embellishments. The stories of her interlocutors concern basic issues – home and family. The identities of the story-tellers aren’t revealed; we can’t match a given statement with a face presented in the pictures. Mendra, the authors’ guide, whose statement may be found in the epilogue, is the exception. She thinks about the future and she seems to be the most reflective inhabitant of this place.
The author admits that he draws inspiration from the works of Larry Towell, a member of the Magnum agency, who portrayed Mennonites, Christian protestants living amongst others in Mexico. The master’s photographs are black and white and one may see in them the enormous amount of time devoted to the heroes. Towell recorded border moments – childbirths, funerals – to which he gave clear, balanced forms. Another lead that, according to Lach, may be useful in the reading of Stigma is the narration used by Mike Leigh in the director’s newest movies: a seemingly tame theme, in which one may sense nervousness beneath the surface.
Relative Calm
Lach proposes colour photographs with clear, warm dominant elements. There is room here for portraits, still lives, everyday situations, and humorous/scary presentations (a child in a bag from IKEA). Every few pages the relatively calm picture story is distorted by a typically reportorial photograph which is disturbing but also very informative. For example a man holding a rat, or a group of people carrying a crying boy. The mixed aesthetics can hinder reception but Lach admits that:
A few of the reportorial photos are to overwhelm, disturb. It’s a dense, uncomfortable place, in this book there can’t be too much room, comfort.
Inside one can find centrefolds showing the temporary architecture photographed from the inside and from the outside. The cover, in which scraps of materials overlap, also refers to the quickly constructed barracks. Because of their simple illustrative quality, these devices look kind of caricatural. The large amount of addressed issues and used styles complicates the reception of this work. The authors decided to formally densify their work, which is to reflect the situation from the encampment. I’m not entirely sure whether this reference was conveyed or whether one may only try to explain it.
Common Features
The story told in Stigma ends suddenly, like a work by Mike Leigh. What’s the point? What will we remember from these subtleties? What stays in mind are the sad persons or the muscle-flexing teenager in the photographs. The time shared at home and outside of home. The birth of a child, the subsequent moves. Ordinariness. This family is governed by the same emotions as every other family, therefore we’re looking at ourselves. The catch of this work is revealing its heroes as people who deserve compassion. Lach doesn’t try to record the attractive dissimilarity. He uses well-known words and looks for shared elements, which he finds.