AD: Is that what brought you to Poland?
RB: It was a multitude of reasons. I am a huge believer in field trips and immersion, and I am always looking for the right opportunities to immerse myself.
More specifically, I had been researching what I would call artefacts, and I came across the Adam Mickiewicz Institute through projects such as Exercising Modernity and Records of Waiting. I was so struck by the thoughtfulness, the concept and the execution of that work. I thought: I have to find out who the people behind this are.
There was something in the sensibility – the design sensibility, but also the ethnographic process and the history – that felt very close to how I approach my own work. I felt there was a synchronisation there, and that it would be really interesting to explore.
AD: How did Karol Adamiecki become important to your work? What connection do you see between his ideas about harmony and your own work on trust, or your work more generally?
RB: I first came across Karol’s work almost like a detective narrowing things down. I was trying to understand where the language of business – concepts like productivity, efficiency and output – had come from, because these are not new concepts. And I thought: maybe if I can understand their origins, I will think differently about them.
So, I started to dig into questions like: who was the first person to visualise multiple roles? Who was the first person to think about ergonomics? All these questions. I was coming up with clusters of Americans, and then I would go deeper, and Karol came up. I am really interested in polymaths, particularly people who are musicians or artists but also think in a very scientific way, because that combination of visualisation, precision and data is so powerful. I was blown away by his harmonograms. I thought: these are works of art. They look like musical scores to me. I just thought: who created these?
Then, of course, I discovered that everything was in Polish, and I started reading what had been written about him. But when I dug deeper, I thought: this guy was way more influential than people think. Because I had studied the later layers of management history, I could see his influence. What I did not understand was how he was connected to the Americans. Was his work borrowed? Was it absorbed without recognition? Or was there some form of collaboration?
Those were the questions I wanted to understand. But above all, I wanted to understand the person and the mind that came up with this idea of harmonisation: that work, like a conductor, could be harmony, and that people – not just outputs, results and money – could be optimised if you could find synchronisation.