A biographical sketch of a kind

It happened quite early, when I was five or six. I was lying in a meadow, one hot July afternoon, busy observing the clouds. My imagination wandered as their shapes kept changing - I could see ice castles, horsemen riding their mounts and extraordinary antediluvian monsters. I was thus hovering in the immaterial world of my fantasy when suddenly the clanking of bicycle chains brought me back to reality. Approaching from the west and perched on an old bicycle, a surprisingly plump woman was cycling very slowly. Something in me, some hitherto unknown force compelled me to stare at the fleshy cyclist. Although nothing special was taking place, I kept staring at her, wide-eyed as if hypnotised. Right in the middle of the enormous desert meadow stood a puny, lonely tree. As a matter of course the woman collided into that single tree and fell off her bike. I could hear her from afar swearing and moaning. Twenty years later, I became a film director. Before that I had studied the History of Art at the University of Warsaw and trained at the Lodz Film Institute. It was thanks to Latin that I understood the nature of the force that had compelled me to watch the hapless cyclist. It was intuition. The Latin word intuitis comes from the verb intuitere, that is to say, to observe closely. It is akin to possessing an additional sense, the Hindu third eye. To make a film, one must observe the surrounding reality closely, free of any preconceived ideas or intellectual bias. This programme may seem simple enough at first sight, but it is quite complex when one becomes aware of the countless shaping influences that stop us, our origins, religion, education, political convictions, or those momentary errors due to our emotional make-up. We must therefore learn to always look and see, as it is a never-ending apprenticeship.

The past 27 years I spent in Paris, where I made films, set up plays, trained young actors and film directors. Today I am back in Warsaw where I work. Times have changed and those who do not exist in the virtual reality of the Web no longer exist for the public. It is therefore time for me to remind you that I exist, not only virtually, thanks to this Web site.

I am still convinced, however, that even today, regardless of what it may cost us, we should strive to retain the curiosity we felt as children towards the world and the sharp sense of observation that went with it. Old political systems crumble apart, new ones arise, archaic, clannish behaviours reappear, and the heedless, blind quest for money and power drives many cyclists straight towards that single tree in the middle of the meadow. Let us observe all this attentively and, whenever we can, relate what we see through cinematographic testimony.