Of Light and Dark

Warsaw Centralna, a major railway station in Warsaw, is known for its brutalist architecture. However, beneath the surface lies a vibrant and bustling underground world. The author reflects on the lack of division in this place, contrasting it with the historical segregation and division that once plagued the city. The author references a poem from the time of the Warsaw Ghetto, conveying a sense of loss and pain. Despite the despair in the poem, the author finds hope in their own window facing a different side, allowing them to escape and experience the beauty of Warsaw. The piece concludes with a mention of pianos playing a Chopin Polonaise, symbolizing the city's resilience. of light and dark. It is almost impossible to visit Warsaw and not pass through Warsaw Centralna, the hub and largest of the city's four main railway stations. Its brutalist architecture standing in bold opposition to the Stalinist palace of culture and science, only yards away. Yet the building itself is the mere tip of the iceberg, for spreading like roots of a giant tree, the station's subterranean world spreads out for hundreds of meters in every direction. Below ground life is vibrant, busy and sublime. A melting pot of souls, crisscrossing paths, going about their business. Together, a united people, the lifeblood of this once torn city. Every time I pass through Centralna, to switch trams, grab something to eat or charge up my transit pass, I am fascinated by the vibrancy and fluid sense of movement, the lack of division, brought into focus by the calming perspective of its architecture. It is this lack of division that captivates and defines this honorable, outstanding place. In this piece, I wanted to give a glimpse into a life underground and reflect this on a past history of segregation and division that so dominates the historical narrative. The words between the images are from the poem, A Window Faces the Other Side, written during the time of the Warsaw Ghetto. In it, the author Wladyslaw Slengel succeeds in conveying a deep sense of loss and the resulting pain from being cut off from his beloved Warsaw at the time. As opposed to a list of attractions that Warsaw once offered all its inhabitants, we read descriptions of an imprisoned Jew in the ghetto with phrases like, extinguished Warsaw, regain a world and blunt the present or even, I am forbidden to stand in the window. Perhaps this poem leaves us without hope as it concludes with a desolate last line, how terrible that my window faces the other side. However, for me, today, there is no other side. I have a window facing the other side. It's a brazen, Jewish window that looks out on the pretty Krasinski Park with its wet autumn leaves, a grayish purple evening sky with bending branches, Avarian trees peering into my Jewish window and I am forbidden to stand in the window. Correctly so, for Jewish insects, moles are designed to be blind. The young men sit in their pits, their eyes sunk in their work, far from those Jewish windows and I, when evening falls, run to the darkened window to regain a world and blunt the present. Hungrily I look and I look and devour an extinguished Warsaw, the distant sounds of bustle and whistle, the lines of houses and streets and the remains of palaces. My gaze absorbs the city hall with theatre square below me. A protective moon permits me this sentimental escape and my hungry eye roams deep as a piercing knife into the soft night of a silent Warsaw evening in the darkened city square. And when I've soaked in enough to last tomorrow and maybe a little longer, I separate from the silent city and magically with raised hand and closed eye, I whisper Warsaw, speak for I await thee. And immediately the pianos in the city, with silenced lids, awake as one to the command, heavy, sad and weary, and from one hundred pianos, a Chopin Polonaise rises into the night, with chords calling into the oppressive silence. Above the city, this festival of sound emanating from the piano keys as white as death. The end, my hands drop and the notes of the Polonaise are returned to a silence. I turn back and think how terrible that my window faces the other side. Words, a window faces the other side by Wladyslaw Slengel. Camera, Fujifilm X-E4. Prime lens, Fujinon 27mm f2.8. Simulation, Fujifilm Bleach Bypass. Additional retouching, Apple Photos.