DO NOT LEAVE THE GARDEN



In 1890 my family settled in a small village in the south of Poland. Around the garden, hornbeams and beeches were planted, which at that time were only a few centimetres high. One hundred years ago my grandfather was born – by that time trees had grown and new ones appeared between them. Over the next decades, as silent witnesses, they watched the lives of new generations.
Nowadays, defined by excess and visibility, a garden can be seen as a place of refuge and isolation. Trees around not only protect but also manifest the need to remain invisible. A space that keeps secrets and does not want to share them, must be a profanity to a world in which everything has become accessible.
Now, more than ever, we need intimacy, secrets, places that set boundaries. As the distance between the private and the public becomes more and more blurred, the aim of search becomes an intensely personal space, inaccessible to all. A place of fleeting, overflowing presences.









































This is a master diploma project, defended at Academy of Fine Arts in Cracow, under the guidance of Agata Pankiewicz and Natalia Wiernik/Photography Studio I.

Various formats
Printed on Mohawk Eggshell 148 g
Calque cover with Pantone print










DO NOT LEAVE THE GARDEN
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DO NOT LEAVE THE GARDEN

a fire, a thick smoke, first warm nights and mosquitoes, bruised knees, a light in the porch, a cool wind in the hallway, mice and hornets, grand Read More
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