Treasures from the Collection of the Polish Library in Paris. September 3rd - November 21st 2004, at the National Gallery, Cracow.
The title of this exhibition might appear pretty off-putting at first glance. After all, what could some musty old library in Paris have that couldn't be bettered here in Poland itself? However, in this case, appearances are indeed deceptive.
Like the renowned Czartoryski museum here in Cracow, the Parisian collections were forged in battle and rebellion. Since 1795, many of Poland's leading lights were compelled to live in exile, and Paris was one of the two main centres of the emigre galaxy (London eventually superseded the French capital in 1940).
It's due to these twists of history that a small mansion on Paris's picturesque Isle St. Louis houses one of the world's most exquisite and varied collections of Polish art and artifacts. And to the delight of Polish art lovers, the cream of it has just been whisked over here for a one-off exhibition.
As you walk into the opening room of the show, you're greeted by or dozen or so prints of the founding fathers of the Polish Literary and Historical Society in Paris (f. 1838). This venerable, if rather tame-sounding society was in fact a unique beacon of freedom of expression for the Poles. And to young Polish patriots, the bewhiskered men that one meets in these first portraits were giants of their time. Here one finds General Bem, hero of the 1830 Uprising against the Russians and later a freedom fighter in Hungary. And Prince Adam Czartoryski, the so-called 'uncrowned King of Poland', who was drawn into the Rising despite his misgivings about the probable repercussions. Later in the show, an elegantly penned document turns out to be the Act of Dethronement of the unwelcome Russian King Nikolai I - the 188 signatures of Polish senators striking a deceptively ordered note amidst the storm that was raging all around.
In spite of the complex historical legacy of the show, the objects on view can certainly be enjoyed for their own intrinsic artistic merits. You don't need to be a history buff to relish the marvellous works of art here. Take Stanslaw Wyspianski's extraordinarily vivid portrait of Ladislas Mickiewicz (1904), son of the great poet. Here is an artist who can rival any of his more well-known peers in France or England. Or the lively 'Highland Dance' painting by the star of Polish Art Deco, Zofia Stryjenska (1891-1974). A gem. A host of other enchanting folkloric work can also be savoured, as is best exemplified in the woodcuts of Wladyslaw Skoczylas (1883-1934). Leon Wyczolkowski's gargantuan pastel vision of a knight trotting through a magical plain is very much the popular Polish classic.
Naturally, the theme of exile runs throughout the exhibition. A small oil painting early in the show reveals the reality of what was in store for 'hot-headed rebels'. Entitled 'Injured Prisoner in Siberia ', the canvas shows a Polish captive in a silver mine with his leg crippled under a fallen rock (p. Kazimierz Alchimowicz, 1874). Thousands of the rebels - the majority from the ranks of the gentry - were marched off to Siberia in the wake of the two major Uprisings (1830, 1863).
The background to these revolts had its point of departure in Poland's battle to hold onto independence in the last years of the eighteenth century. Poland was finally wiped from the map in 1795 by Austria, Prussia and Russia. After the Napoleonic Wars, a small fragment of the Kingdom was reborn under the seemingly enlightened rule of Tsar Alexander I. However, the democratic institutions that were organized by the Polish Prince Czartoryski would ultimately be doomed under the Tsarist regime. Within fifteen years, repressive Russian measures had sparked the fabled, yet tragic November Uprising of 1830. Another followed - equally if not more bloody - in 1863.
For this reason a host of key figures were compelled to live in exile. Paris became the main centre of emigration, and Polish luminaries such as Chopin, Adam Mickiewicz and Prince Adam Czartoryski all took up residence in the French capital. The latter revived a run-down mansion on the Isle St. Louis, the Hotel Lambert, which became the seat of a sort of government in exile, with embassies in London, Istanbul and elsewhere. One of the offshoots of this was the Polish Public Library and museum, which were located just round the corner from the Hotel Lambert in the house of the Prince's nephew and right hand man, Ladislas Zamoyski. It is the fruits of this grand, isolated tree, that are on show here today. However, the library itself still functions, and for post 1945 emigres such as Czeslaw Milosz and Jerzy Giedroyc the collections were something of a lifeline.
This is a well-organized exhibition and the variety of artifacts on show means that there is likely to be something that will appeal to all tastes. The layout of the works has been done thoughtfully and eloquently. You'll find everything from letters of Polish Kings to Chopin's scribbles, through to sweeping landscape paintings and charmingly illustrated nineteenth century emigre publications. Not everything here could be deemed a great work of art, but even the second or third rate pieces tend to carry some interesting historical resonance. A great show.
|