Spectres over Still Waters: An Interview with Karol Szymkowiak

belfast_photo_festival-karol_szymkowiak-0169-8629-5223-01750-06.jpg, default, Karol Szymkowiak, from the book ‘0169-8629 5223-01750’, Pix.house Foundation, photo: courtesy of the photographer

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At Lake Powidzkie, Poland’s cleanest body of water, there’s an eerie reflection: the spectre of war from a neighbouring military airfield. This unsettling meeting of natural beauty and strategic tension has been documented with award-winning results by photographer Karol Szymkowiak. While his work was on show at the Belfast Photo Festival in June, we spoke with him about parallel realities, climate anxiety and the cowboys roaming the heart of the Polish landscape.

Agnieszka Warnke: When you stand on the shore of Lake Powidzkie, what do you see?

Karol Szymkowiak: I always think of it as a haven, a place where I can be at one with nature. When I’m by the lake, I concentrate on the surroundings, take a break from everyday life, even if only from the computer screen.

When it comes to memories, I have many. As a child, I used to go to Anastazewo to a holiday resort owned by the company where my father worked. I spent my first summer holidays there and nearly every one afterwards. There were also trips with friends and girlfriends. Throughout my life, Lake Powidzkie has always been a part of me, even though I’m not from that region. Many things have changed. For example, there used to be places where you could jump into the water from piers, but those are long gone. I’m getting older, and so’s the lake.

AW: What’s happening there today?

KS: While I was working on my photo project, I also created a sound installation at Lake Powidzkie – it turned out man-made sounds are always there in the background. This isn’t a place where only nature exists. You can hear the noises of passing vehicles, the buzz of conversations, and the hubbub of parties taking place on the other side of the lake. You also hear noises associated with the presence of the military: planes and helicopters are quite clearly audible and noticeable during intense manoeuvres. The place is increasingly becoming polluted with noise.

AW: Tell me what’s happening right next to the lake.

KS: Since the 1950s, a military unit and Poland’s largest military airport have been located about two or three kilometres away. But for the last few years, the base has undergone significant expansion due to the presence of American soldiers. Recently, a large weapons warehouse for the local army was put into operation. The expansion necessitated clearing some of the surrounding forests. In areas that just had dirt tracks a few years ago, there are now proper asphalt roads. Within Powidz itself, they’ve started to develop infrastructure for American soldiers, including all sorts of hamburger bars, karaoke venues, several tattoo parlours, barbers and more. All these intense changes inspired me to explore the topic.

The fact that planes were flying and roaring above my head was nothing unusual for me – I’ve known it all my life. But one day, when I was sitting on the pier and watching military aircraft fly overhead, I realised that the situation I’d normalised in my mind might seem strange and absurd to someone from outside. And that was the starting point. While conducting online research, I quickly found a document from the late 1950s that had been declassified by the Pentagon. It contained a list of potential nuclear targets, including the airport in Powidz.

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Karol Szymkowiak, from the book ‘0169-8629 5223-01750’, Pix.house Foundation, photo: courtesy of the photographer

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I became interested in the narrative, which speaks to anxiety, inner tension and potential catastrophe. Although the place feels like a haven to me, I realised that if there were a war, it wouldn’t be an appropriate hiding place.

AW: In the book, you’ve used the convention of black-and-white documents and colour Polaroids.

KS: It wasn’t easy to step away from the role of someone who knows this place well. I really didn’t want a completely personal project, but you can’t escape it – you’re entangled in certain memories. It wouldn’t be entirely honest either. The project features two visual layers: the main one consists of raw, documentary monochrome photographs, and the other includes Polaroids and Instax photos – I used these tools with the aim of suggesting it was something like a private holiday archive. However, there’s also something jarring about these images.

My photographs aren’t literal. I tend to use metaphors, afterimages and the way individual images interact with each other. Often what happens in the viewer’s mind between the pages of a book is more important than what’s shown in the photographs.

AW: You took a photo of the Statue of Liberty situated there, coated with an American flag. I imagine that in colour it must look kitschy, somewhat like Martin Parr’s photos. But you chose not to use colour.

KS: It’s a terribly kitschy structure. The statue wasn’t originally painted in the colours of the flag. It was erected by the owner of a restaurant on the side of the lake, opposite the airport – I assume he wanted to attract American soldiers. Years later, he repainted it in the colours of the US flag, which makes it even more of a caricature.

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Karol Szymkowiak, from the book ‘0169-8629 5223-01750’, Pix.house Foundation, photo: courtesy of the photographer

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I chose not to use colour because I was mainly photographing in summer, when the place is lively and the colours are truly vibrant. Black and white tones take away some of the information, but they also smooth things out, allowing the viewer to focus more on motifs and metaphors. I knew that if I used colour, I’d just make the place look like a caricature, a kind of parody. That wasn’t my intention.

AW: What are you looking for in your images? You mentioned metaphors. Absurdity? One of the photographs depicts a cowboy who is essentially detached from reality, although, in a sense, he still belongs there.

KS: I’ve always been fascinated by how a genuine record or photograph of a moment, person or a place – though inevitably filtered through a tool and its operator – can be presented in such a way that it seems completely surreal and absurd to us. You can operate on these two levels simultaneously, creating something that is indeed a document, but that leaves us not entirely sure whether it was staged, created or generated.

The most interesting moments occur when you have a general concept but you surrender to what you encounter. You have to rely solely on reality and allow yourself to be surprised. You don’t want to create it, you can only find it.

I came across the cowboy purely by chance. I was driving back from a photo shoot, thinking this time I hadn’t found anything or anyone interesting. Suddenly, I saw a guy on a horse, wearing a cowboy hat, standing on a pile of rubble that’d probably been left over from roadworks. He was standing there looking at the lake, so I quickly pulled over to the side of the road and took out my camera. It tied in perfectly with the whole story about the American presence in Powidz and the fact that someone from the local community also fits the image of an American cowboy – a macho man.

AW: You mentioned American burgers. Have you tried them?

KS: Of course! I met the owner of one of the restaurants, learnt his story – he wasn’t from Powidz but had worked in the United States for years – and took a few portraits of him. I also visited a barber who mainly styles American soldiers. I had to break the ice and encourage people to let me in and take pictures of their customers. I thought that if I became a customer myself, it’d be easier to do.

AW: The faces of the people in your project aren’t visible though. They can’t be recognised.

Karol Szymkowiak, from the book '0169-8629 5223-01750', Pix.house Foundation, fot. photo: courtesy of the photographer

KS: Initially, I made a few portraits where someone was recognisable, but I quickly realised that this wasn’t the right approach. I understood that I didn’t want specific people to endorse a particular problem with their faces. The fact that we cannot look anyone in the eye also creates an atmosphere of confusion and adds an air of mystery. It recently occurred to me that perhaps by portraying people this way, I’d wanted to introduce a dream-like narrative – in my dreams, I never see faces. I just have an awareness that it’s a specific person.

Of course, there’s also the issue that these days it’s not easy to photograph people’s faces because publishing the images afterwards involves certain legal procedures that aren’t always possible to follow. For example, the book deliberately features a pixelated, blurred portrait of a female American soldier. Using camouflage like that relates to how residents and tourists perceive American soldiers who arrive for nine months then disappear when the contingent changes. They’re close, but in fact, they’re distant. It’s impossible to fully get to know them or see them.

AW: When you started working on ‘0169-8629 5223-01750’ in 2021, the full-scale war in Ukraine hadn’t started yet. Did your approach to the project change after it broke out?

KS: The whole period was marked by my internal reflection on how this place influences me and what it signifies to me. When I started the project, I was, to be honest, furious that the expansion was happening like this: by choosing to extend the facility, we cut down forests and harmed the natural environment.

Initially, I’d believed in the illusion that we live in a safe part of Europe and that a conventional war wasn’t a threat for us. And if that were the case, why should we build storage facilities at nature’s expense? When the war broke out though, that way of thinking – I assume not only mine, but that of most of us in Poland – changed.

Although I do still believe that if we want to protect something, in this case our country and society, we shouldn’t forget about nature since we are also part of it. It’s also important from an environmental perspective. The entire Greater Poland region is struggling with drought, and nearby post-mining areas are drawing water from the lake. Certain issues have different priorities, and at a time when all of Europe is arming itself, environmental concerns end up sidelined – and that’ll lead nowhere. If we focus on just one thing now, these changes will become irreversible later.

AW: What role do artists or photographers have in the climate change discussion?

KS: In my view, the photographer’s role is to highlight certain phenomena and issues, rather than necessarily act as an expert. Most of us documentary photographers go through an educational process while working on our projects. Environmental issues are prominently featured in artistic endeavours – I even have the impression that this is often where they’re most prevalent.

The more of these kinds of activities there are, whether projects, books, photography festivals or art related to environmental protection, the better. Although we’re not decision-makers in these matters and it’s easy to disregard us, we must persevere with relentless determination and reach the largest possible audience. That’s the only way to educate society – by showing, asking questions, and encouraging people to think.

The project I carried out in Powidz also addresses climate change, environmental concerns and potential catastrophe. I recognise that the situation there isn’t straightforward or purely binary. Because of that, the topic itself is probably somewhat uncomfortable and only reluctantly covered by the media. I mean, when there’s the threat of war, how can you question the government with things like: ‘Do you really need to cut down the forest to expand the unit? Because you’re ignoring the problem of hydrological drought and water drainage from the nearby lakes.’

The obvious answer would be, as shown by reality, that defence is more important. But perhaps both areas should be given equal priority? I believe our role, and the value of photography, lies in asking exactly those questions that no one else is raising.

AW: The Września Collection, which you’ve curated since 2015, is a book-focused photography project where a photographer visits Września with the aim of telling the town’s story through a book. Was that your goal in the story about Lake Powidzkie too?

KS: From the very beginning, I wanted to create something that would ultimately be compiled into a book.

AW: In ‘0169-8629 5223-01750’, you are both the book’s author and its photo editor. Is it easy acting as your own curator?

KS: It’s challenging, but I don’t like to deny myself the pleasure of arranging sequences – I’d feel it wasn’t truly mine. From the very outset, I envisioned the narrative of a book, and with each new photograph that came to mind or appeared in mock-ups, I arranged the story further. I checked what was missing and which threads were worth pursuing.

Karol Szymkowiak, cover of the book '0169-8629 5223-01750', photo: Pix.house Fundacja

Of course, it’s not that I didn’t consult anyone. I did most of the editing myself, then collaborated on the book with Krzysiek Orłowski. He didn’t have an easy task because the sequence was pretty much organised, the book was almost fully laid out, and no designer likes that kind of starting point. However, we worked on it for several months. Krzysiek helped me a lot in refining the editing and effectively prevented me from pursuing ideas that might not have been good or necessary. It was very valuable assistance.

I try to do everything myself because, on one hand, it gives me the most satisfaction, and on the other, I take full responsibility for it. If something doesn’t work, I know it’s my fault, but I also know what needs to be improved. When things are spread across a large team, it can sometimes be difficult to identify what went wrong.

AW: In Belfast, your photographs are being displayed not in a conventional gallery, but in a café.

KS: I was already familiar with the nature of this festival and knew that it largely relies on open spaces and outdoor exhibitions, with gallery rooms not playing a dominant role. When talking to Toby Smith [Director of Development at the Belfast Photo Festival – ed.], I said that the most important thing for me was to display the book in a way that allows people to look at it, browse through it, immerse themselves in the narrative and absorb it. Because that’s where the action happens. I’m eager to see how it’ll be received in a country other than Poland, in a different part of Europe.

Of course, it’s wonderful showcasing photographs in galleries and grand spaces, but it’s also good to reach audiences outside our bubble. That’s why I value the Września Collection: the exhibition stays in the market square for three months, and every resident of Września comes across it sooner or later. It’s similar here: someone might attend the festival or simply stop for a coffee and notice this small installation hanging on the wall, browse through the book, and ask themselves questions.

Karol Szymkowiak – self-taught photographer, photo book creator, curator and lecturer. As a photographer, he has taken part in several group exhibitions. Member of the Association of Polish Art Photographers. Lecturer in photography at the Institute of Art of the Polish Academy of Sciences in Warsaw. He has been the artistic curator of the Września Collection photography project since 2015, collaborating with leading Polish photographers to produce photo books and exhibitions about his hometown of Września. He lives and works in Poznań. In 2025, he was nominated by Fotofestiwal in Łódź for membership in the Futures Photography platform. His book 0169-8629 5223-01750, published by the Pix.house Foundation, was awarded in the Photographic Publication of the Year 2025 competition.

‘Metamorphosis’ is a series of exhibitions, events and screenings that took place as part of the Belfast Photo Festival 2025, focusing on the changing landscape of Polish ecology and society. Thanks to the support of the Adam Mickiewicz Institute, installations created in collaboration with Polish artists – Diana Lelonek, Anna Zagrodzka, Karol Szymkowiak, Dyba & Adam Lach – and Fotofestiwal Łódź could be seen in key locations around central Belfast from 5th to 30th June 2025. The events were part of the ongoing UK/Poland 2025 cultural season, organised by the Adam Mickiewicz Institute, the Polish Cultural Institute and the British Council.

Interview conducted in Polish in Belfast, June 2025, translated by Agnieszka Mistur, June 2025

Language English

documentary photography

belfast

climate change

ecology