WARSAW — Describing one of the artists whose work is included in the exhibition Warsaw painters: sketches of so-called naive art currently on display at the Ethnographic Museum in Warsaw, Polish cultural critic Aleksander Jackowski wrote in a letter: “She knows nothing; she has only imagination. This was not a criticism, as Jackowski defended Leonida Płonkowa (1913–1992), as well as the three other artists featured on the show – Maria Korsak (1907–2002), Halina Walicka (1901–1980), and Łucja Mickiewicz . (1894-1979) – including them in exhibitions he organized and books he wrote. Jackowski was referring to the fact that Płonkowa was not a trained professional artist and, like the other artists in the exhibition, came to art later in life.
The curator of this exhibition, Alicja Mironiuk Nikolska, uses the term “naive art” to describe works created by non-professional artists who existed outside the mainstream art world. This is one of the two common threads that connect the work of these four women. The other connecting factor is the city of Warsaw, the place of their creative production. While these similarities are worth noting, what struck me most about this small, one-room exhibit was the four women’s extraordinary ability to develop a distinct visual language, as if using the art to create their own space.
By the time these artists began making art in the 1950s and 1960s, each of their lives had been disrupted by war, displacement, and trauma to varying degrees. Walicka lost her father, husband and three brothers in Auschwitz, while Mickiewicz survived Ravensbruck, a concentration camp for women in Germany. Korsak was separated from her husband for years due to the shifting of the Polish-Soviet border, while Płonkowa spent much of the war in Romania, longing for her family in Warsaw.
At first glance, the joyful and colorful scenes created by these artists in their 40s and 50s seem to belie the reality of their lives. After spending time with their works, however, another possibility presents itself – for these women, the pursuit of art was an exercise in world-building, using their distinctive styles to construct an alternate reality. Płonkowa often painted imaginative fairy tale scenes, including one featuring a grasshopper playing a violin before an audience of gnomes and another depicting a snow queen on her throne. Consider also the dream world of Walicka, whose ethereal women seem to float in their long dresses, with winds pushing them through outdoor and domestic settings that sometimes resemble theater sets. Even the cityscapes of Korsak and Mickiewicz – some of which are so detailed they resemble real places in Warsaw – are imbued with a sense of wonder. Mickiewicz’s embroidered landscapes, accented with sparkling silver and gold threads, suggest an otherworldly dimension.
While the work of non-professional artists has received renewed attention in recent years (including the recent William Hirshfield Exhibition at the Folk Art Museum in New York), what distinguishes the artists of Warsaw Painters is not so much the classification “naive art”, but rather each artist’s initial pursuit of artistic creation as a personal effort intended for his or her own well-being.
This is particularly evident with Płonkowa, whose legacy has been the best preserved of the four artists as she bequeathed many of her works and documents to the Ethnographic Museum. Płonkowa’s unabashed and unrestrained artistic exploration – generously described by curators as “unusual versatility” in the wall text – is on full display here. Glass paintings, watercolors and charcoal sketches hung salon-style in a makeshift wooden structure in the middle of the room depict everything from religious iconography and folktale scenes, to abstract patterns and detailed botanical sketches. It is an explosive celebration of almost childlike experimentation and wonder, and the viewer feels as if they are seeing Płonkowa searching for a language with which to express their world. Willing or not, the wooden structure dedicated to Płonkowa’s work accentuates this sense of constructing a space to explore and dream – to imagine and create a world separate from both the constraints of the commercial art world and the horrors the past.
As in the United States, most exhibitions of works by self-taught or non-professional artists in Europe are currently organized by folk art or ethnography museums. I left from Painters from Warsaw wondering what insight into post-war Poland could be gained by exhibiting these artists alongside those whose work was being absorbed into the art world of the time. It left me intrigued by what could be learned from a visual dialogue between artists who “know nothing”—to use Jackowski’s phrase—and those who were creating a lot in response to the sociopolitical demands of the after war.
Warsaw painters: sketches of so-called naive art will continue at the Ethnographic Museum in Warsaw (National Ethnographic Museum in Warsaw 1 Kredytowa Street, 00-056 Warsaw) until June 4.
