Your photos depict mostly young people. I am looking at a photo taken near the Pushkinskaya metro station in Minsk which might as well have been taken in Warsaw or Berlin. Are young people the same everywhere?

We all follow the same trends, some created by us, some by the media. Just as in Kiev, Moscow and other cities of Eastern Europe, many young people in Belarus dress the way we do in Central and Western Europe, listen to the same music, and go to the same events. Their feelings and emotions are no different. And, just like everyone else these days, they live much of their lives online where they get to observe other societies and the world.

Your photos from the barricades shown in The Scars resemble those taken by press photographers during the Paris riots. And although the protesters are different people, their emotions and desires appear to be alike.

I did not want to limit my book of photographs to an account of events in Belarus. Profound and rapid social transformations take place all around us wherever we look. Last year, in particular, showed that while young people in different countries vary in their financial and cultural capital, they are all united in their pursuit of freedom, no matter their latitude.

How many times have you been to Belarus?

The photos for the book were taken during a single trip to the other side of Poland's eastern border. I reported on events in Belarus for Gazeta Wyborcza and The Wall Street Journal. While in Belarus, Polish and foreign journalists worked alongside one another until our stay permits ran out and our tourist visas expired: hardly any of us were there as accredited journalists. We were simply denied such accreditation. On departing from Belarus, I felt I was leaving behind an unfinished history as the revolution, or rather the mass protests, continued. So, the story was unfinished not as much by me as by the Belarusians themselves.

Will they ever conclude this story?

I hope so. This is how I see the world and what I believe. The bottom line is that any totalitarian regime, even that led by Lukashenka, will eventually collapse and freedom will prevail. Because even if not today, a dawn is bound to come.

The first part of The Scars is more of a journalistic story, while the second seems to contain an intimate disclosure.

Although some parts of the first chapter can certainly be labelled as journalistic, my primary aim has been to provide a calm account of events with ample space for reflection. The parts complement each other, the second one, with its portraits and interviews, builds on what is in the first.

Why did you decide to add verbal comments to your photographs? Wasn't image alone sufficient?

Photography is a deficient medium. I cannot imagine the photos in part 2 without the stories by Nina Boichenko. These photos would mean nothing without the text. The stories of the women I have captured in the photos must be told. They are their testimonies, the testimonies of the scars from the book's title. It is these completely outer marks, the wounds and the bruises, as well as the inner ones that resulted from the Lukashenka regime's repression, that forced them to leave their country. Nina described these testimonies beautifully in her texts. Ziemowit Szczerek offered a more general outline of the situation in Belarus in what became an introduction to the book.

Your photos are undoubtedly socially engaged. Where do you draw the line between activism and journalism?

I have my views and emotions, and although I try to keep them in check during my work, I don't always succeed. But you are right: as in the case of the photos shown in The Scars, the viewer of this collection may well conclude that I support freedom in Belarus. That is certainly true, and I don't see why I should hide it. I don't think that being pro-human-rights is a particular stance - it is simply a starting point. And yet, I don't think I have ever crossed the fine line of journalistic ethics. Because although I don't call myself a journalist, I certainly follow that code. I depict people's emotions as best I can.

The protagonists of the famous book "The Bang-Bang Club" note that every time they arrived at a scene of a shooting and bomb explosion in South Africa, they'd have no more than a minute or two to take their photographs, after which a paramedic, who was a girlfriend of one of the reporters, would begin to attend to people.

It is important not to lose one's humanity in photography. I have not yet faced any tough ethical choices in my work. The question of ethics has often come up lately in connection with the events unfolding on the Polish-Belarusian border. Does giving warm food and water to freezing and exhausted refugees in the middle of a dark forest cross any lines? These are not dilemmas. And if any people documenting world events are torn over such choices, I can only pity them. Newspapers pay us money for telling these stories. I don't believe I am sacrificing myself in any way.

You brought up the ongoing events on the border. What was the difference between working there and taking photos during the events in Minsk?

At the border, I came across people who were physically and mentally exhausted. In Minsk, things were completely different. This said, the two worlds had one thing in common: a never-ending fear of the repressive regime experienced by the people I portrayed. That is why I think that both on the border and in the freedom demonstrations, people were really looking for the same things: freedom and dignity. I intended my photos as space in which they could express these two desires that were of such great importance to them. I made an effort not to sensationalize the tragedy.

This was also my coming to terms with this dismal world. In describing the recent protests and unrest that have swept through the streets of Beirut, the Lebanese documentary photographer Myriam Boulos said that in a city consumed by chaos and destruction, she looked for loving kindness, which implied that such kindness is the only approach that can save us. I think I share that outlook with her.

I allowed myself to leave the question about the purpose of journalistic photography for last. How are your photos different from those taken by the participants of the events themselves? After all, in this age of social media you will never be as fast and as up-close as they are with their smartphones. A documenting photographer will always follow two steps behind.

Fortunately, both for me and for my photos, I have managed to move away from being a newspaper agent and covering news. Nobody expects me any more to chase stories and instantly upload photos to editorial servers. I now consider myself less of a photojournalist and more a documentary journalist. In my photos, I can focus on the visual, stories and, above all, emotions - no longer shouted out, but just told. I've found my inner peace. I hope that this peace and tranquillity can be seen in my photos. This is what I search for in them - tenderness and loving kindness.

What's next?

Winter is coming and, Emilia Dłużewska and I intend to complete what we started last summer in Warsaw. We want to show two faces of Warsaw inhabitants through the lens of the city. One of these faces is summer-like, carefree, joyful, and perhaps naïve at times, the other is wintery, depressive, reticent and frosty. I feel this may grow into a broader story about the duality of our lives, not only in the context of living in the post-Soviet capital, but simply as a portrayal of life. In addition, I plan to keep a close eye on events in Belarus and Central and Eastern Europe.

***

The Scars/Blizny: Exhibition of photographs by Jędrzej Nowicki

Pix.house

Free admission

Open until 28.02

Jędrzej Nowicki, who is one of the most fascinating documentary journalists of the young generation, began his photographic journey in the editorial office of the Poznań branch of the Gazeta Wyborcza daily. The journey has led to numerous awards, publications in Le Monde, Die Zeit and The Wall Street Journal, and above all, given the photographer a distinctive outlook on the world, which he views precisely through photography. At the end of the year, this native of the Łazarz district of Poznań, will display his latest project, The Scars, in the district's Pix.house gallery, this time devoted to Belarus.

translation: Krzysztof Kotkowski

© Wydawnictwo Miejskie Posnania 2022