Through figurative portraits and archival material, Karol Radziszewski brings us a queer history of Central Eastern Europe. Centred around Filo Magazine, Radziszewski reframes the historical canon to focus on the non-heteronormative figures that have always existed and continue to do so.
Could you give us an overview of this exhibition?
The Filo exhibition is a fragment of the Queer Archives Institute, which I’m working on through my artistic practice. It’s a case study of the Filo magazine that was started by Ryszard Kisiel in Poland, and was one of the first underground queer magazines in Central-Eastern Europe. We’re taking a look through its history and how it changed with the fall of communism. I juxtaposed this with the paintings of figures; writers, poets, sportsmen who are non-heteronormative and whose biographies I’m also supplying in the guidebook.
Personally, why is it important for you to look back to these histories?
My whole process of working with history started for very personal reasons. When I came out as gay to my parents, they didn’t have any references to look to in local culture. I was growing up in the first decade of communism, when there was a very different circulation of information. When the countries of Central Eastern Europe started to apply to join the European Union, there was this idea that non-heteronormative identities would come from the West. It was a fantasy even since the 19th century that this was something coming from outside.
Talking about the queer past and acknowledging that it was always a part of the general culture and history was a crucial personal turning point for me. I was lacking the local references for my art practice too. We’ve all heard of Warhol or Haring, but there was no one from my local context.
I’m interested in that idea of erasure and recovery. It is notable that you have your own magazine, the first and only artistic magazine from Central and Eastern Europe that concentrates on homosexuality and masculinity. Do you still experience/witness erasure today?
Poland is one of the least LGBT friendly countries in the EU, mostly because of the law. It’s much more tolerant than before, but sometimes feels like a political game. There are no laws against hate crimes, and homophobia is so present that it can affect you on many levels. Even young artists who want to apply for grants or explore certain topics could be limited.
At the same time, the society is much more open than it was, and many queer shows are present in some institutions. When I first started in 2005, I received a lot of critique for putting on the first openly gay exhibition in the history of Poland. I was talking explicitly about sexuality and it was openly provocative. Now that I’m a more established artist, I can introduce these topics in the context of national heritage and history, and it’s much more likely to be appreciated by the institutions and the wider audience.
Seeing as your work revolves around queerness in the Eastern Bloc, how do you feel it will be received here? How do you want people to feel when they encounter this exhibition?
The show itself is less about repression and more about how we think about cultures and histories that we’re not aware of. It’s about a lack of access to information that exists in Poland as well as everywhere else, including Edinburgh. This exhibition is quite interesting in the context of the war that is happening in Ukraine after the full-scale Russian invasion. Many figures that I’m presenting, also from Ukraine, were born on the land that was occupied by Russia. It’s interesting to go into the roots, which can be reversed by just presenting them in a different context.
You are a multidisciplinary artist – what made you pick these mediums when producing this exhibition? How do they speak to what you’re trying to convey?
I use different media because I’m more focused on what I want to say rather than how to say it in the first place. I was trained as a painter but I quit painting for many years. I came back to it mainly as I needed this figurative painting to portray particular figures from the past. The paintings that are shown in Edinburgh are part of a bigger series that is constantly evolving. The archival part makes it more accessible for the audience to understand.
How does this speak to the themes of EAF being persistence and hope?
It’s a lot about hope, because for me, working with history is not about the past or nostalgia, but rather how we contemporary people and artists can use the past to influence the present and future. I think what’s happening in the world is that we’re easily forgetting things that we shouldn’t.
Could you speak about the future you envision?
It’s all about respecting each other. I’m not imposing anything but just bringing in different ways of talking and communicating. It’s about how we create our own community and means of expression.