The Secret Activism – personal narrative about the (future) world

I have a compelling need to join those who are trying to change something for the better. My direct and strongest inspiration comes from activists –“ordinary/extraordinary” people, who have been rising to rebel, protest, often putting their health and lives on the line. The area of my “statement”, however, is not that direct. I must admit I cannot muster enough courage to get involved in a face-to-face confrontation. Also, my attitude follows from my intuition that peaceful, subtle but consistent action is also effective and necessary. Expressed this way, the message may have a chance to reach groups other than people open to protests, and therefore expand the effect of communication. I was wondering: What do I call this attitude? 

Some time ago, looking through comments to Mikołaj Smoczyński’s works, I happened upon his text about the cycle “The Secret Performance”, where he wrote: “My attention reverted from ambiguous abstractions and focussed on the area of self-discovery and existence. (…) I have never been a performer, and I surely don’t feel like one right now. I have never mustered enough courage or this specific impudence, which are necessary to perform in public. (…) my actions have always been for photography’s sake only. The experience of one.” What Smoczyński defined as a secret performance meant documenting only the traces of his actions, his presence. 

Being an activist requires character traits similar to being a performer, as he says, and I relate to his inability to find them internally. At the same time, I do feel a strong need to join the voices contesting the anthropocentric vision of the world – and I participate, but in a more gentle, slightly poetic manner, where you can find only traces of my protest.

“The Secret Activism” is a project for which I have created my works for several years, but it is also the attitude I follow in life. 

One of the first works for this cycle was “To The Birds” – a documentation of my action, a record of my attempt at apology. On the snow, I arranged sunflower seeds into the phrase: “Forgive me for being a human”. I was waiting for the birds. My presence deterred them. I had to leave. But when I returned in the evening, the seeds were gone.

Along with this work, I made many more, including “Petitions” – at the wall, I composed an installation of thousands of letters – petitions wrapped in envelopes I had previously dunked in black ink. It referred to the process of collecting signatures on petitions, which I do regularly, as well as to the overwhelming awareness of the cruelty underlying this procedure.