From Palace to Pegasus: The (re)construction of identity in post-war Warsaw

In the summer of 2009 the group Monstfur painted a mural along one of the main thoroughfares of Warsaw: a red wall with a giant black crevice filled with screaming white faces. The artists explain that it represents the nation divided after having staked everything on a single card. The mural commemorates an event that is important to the identity of the city, but also criticizes it. It honors the sacrifice of the 1944 Warsaw Uprising, but acknowledges that the actions of the resistance fighters were not universally accepted and that they wounded the city.

Monstfur’s mural is only one example of how war, socialist realist planning and unregulated capitalism have shaped Warsaw’s urban landscape as well as its citizen’s struggle with the identity and memory of their city. Exploring the city’s evolving relationship with architecture (re)built after WWII illustrates how memories of the past affect the identity of the city today.

Two architectural case studies, the reconstruction of the historic Old Town and the parallel construction of the Palace of Culture, 'Stalin's boot in Warsaw', introduce the history of postwar Warsaw while their analysis raises questions of commemoration, memory and alienation. The evaluation of the case studies creates a point of reference from which to analyze recent art installations that probe the city’s relationship with memory. This final examination illustrates that, though there is ambivalence towards its architecture, the problem of memory
is consciously being dissected and evaluated in Warsaw.

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During WWII Nazi Germany attempted to erase the history and memory of Warsaw along with the city’s architecture and population. According to Hitler’s instructions, prepared in the Pabst plan, Warsaw was to disappear from the maps of Europe.

German architects carefully identified (and marked for destruction) the historic monuments of the city: the most beautifully proportioned buildings, the buildings designed by distinguished architects, the buildings where famous Varsovians had lived, the places where important historic events had taken place, the buildings with gracious sculptural decoration, the buildings of symbolic importance, the best examples of different architectural styles, the most meaningful buildings of various periods, the proudest churches, the richest palaces, the most beautiful homes, and the neighborhoods where the architecture of Warsaw was knit into an artistic whole. (Tung, 2001)

By January 1945 Warsaw was littered with 20 million tons of rubble and 85% of the city’s infrastructure had been destroyed. In the following months 98,000 bombs and mines were excavated (Tung, 2001).  Architectural reconstruction began almost immediately, as the evicted populace returned and began to create livable conditions amongst the debris.

Old Town, Tadeusz Rolke, 1945 Plan of Palace and new streets juxtaposed with surviving infrastructure,
The Old Town was practically razed to the ground in 1944 as the main site of the failed Warsaw Uprising. Despite having fallen into disrepair, the Old Town, with roots in the 14th century, was the historical center of the city, the site of the city’s oldest market, the first churches and the castle.

It is no surprise that one of the first architectural projects, and one of the most successful, was the reconstruction of the Old Town, which occurred in phases from 1945 to 1954. The reconstruction was an emotional, civic act. The spirit of the times is illustrated by the motto ‘the entire nation builds its capital’. Workers and intellectuals alike participated in the rebuilding of the Old Town for it was a reconstruction of a lost cultural heritage - it was a cause above party ideology.

Almost parallel to the reconstruction of the Old Town, Varsovians saw the creation, in the city center, of a building that would forever change the urban fabric of Warsaw. The construction of the Palace of Culture and Science occurred between 1952 and 1955, a ‘gift’ funded and built by the USSR, a proof of brotherly love and support to a friendly nation in need.

In 1951 a team of Russian architects visited Poland, and with their Polish colleagues toured the countryside studying the vernacular to give their building some local flavor. Polish architects were also involved in the initial planning stages, arguing against Moscow’s proposal of a university building and for a cultural institution. The final product was a skyscraper with a sandstone façade decorated with a mix of art deco, socialist realist and
Polish historic motifs. The Palace of Culture took the place of 120 apartment buildings and a network of small city blocks. While the majority of the infrastructure on site was heavily damaged, the urban fabric of the city
could have been rebuilt. Instead a crew of 3500 Russian workers arrived in Warsaw, lived in their own quarter with a separate movie theater, canteen and swimming pool, and constructed a 220m tall symbol of  Russian control, which to this day remains the tallest building in Poland. To say that the Palace of Culture
evoked strong emotions is putting it lightly.

The Palace represented domination by a foreign regime and the absence of the city fabric that was once on its site. For most of the city’s population it was a reminder of the destruction of war and a symbol of communism. It quickly became a rallying point for resistance. Despite being a marvel of modern construction, a skyscraper using thousands of tons of steel, granite and marble, it was ridiculed more than it was revered. Almost immediately Varsovians concluded that the best view of Warsaw was indeed from the 30th floor observation deck, where they couldn’t see the Palace.

The reconstruction of Old Town was a positive experience that simultaneously reconstructed a part of the Polish historical heritage. It was an act of healing for a war-torn nation. On the other hand, the parallel construction of the Palace of Culture, with Polish historical detail in the façade and monuments to Polish cultural figures at its entrances was repulsive. The rebuilding of the Old Town, an act that erased the destruction of war, brought the citizens of Warsaw together in an act of civitas. Paradoxically, the Palace of Culture, a monument to the new relationship with the USSR and a reminder of the lost urban fabric of the city, also brought the citizens of Warsaw together, but in common revulsion. Both constructions served a similar purpose, to build the collective identity of the city as one of resistance.

Fast-forward 50 years and 1 regime change.

Today more than fifty years have passed since the completion of the Palace of Culture and the reconstruction of the Old Town. The communist regime has crumbled, fallen and been replaced by capitalist culture. Warsaw has seemingly recovered: currently it is a bustling metropolis. Yet the process has resulted in a city that is ambivalent with respect to its architecture, as illustrated by how the Palace of Culture and Old Town are regarded today. Old Town is a pastel colored and romantically cobbled postcard, a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1980. Its narrow streets are lined with charming, old-world restaurants, amber shops and
ice-cream parlors. Today the Old Town is probably Warsaw’s largest tourist attraction. It is a popular destination for Poles from other parts of the country as well as Varsovians out for a Sunday after-church
walk. During the summer months the Market Square and nearby Castle Square host a very popular Jazz
concert series and many outdoor art exhibits.

The Old Town is a source of pride to Warsaw not just because it is a picturesque, historical corner of the
city to show visiting friends. The memory of the reconstruction is alive because it is linked to the martyrology of a war that was its direct precursor. However, outside the tourist season and the warmer summer months Old Town is virtually abandoned. Commerce is limited to tourist and foreigner friendly (over-priced) restaurants, pubs and souvenir shops. When no friends are visiting and when the weather turns gray, there
is no reason to go to the Old Town.

On the other hand, the Palace of Culture, positioned at the center of the city, at the intersection of five transportation arteries, streets, buses, trams, trains and metro, has maintained its dominance. The urbanization at its foot does little to mitigate this effect. There is nothing in the vicinity to take away our attention. The Palace of Culture is surrounded by nondescript parks, parking lots and temporary shopping halls. Upon closer inspection it does begin to look dingy, but from a distance (it is 175m from the main street of Marszałkowska) it deserves reverence and the city has done practically nothing to deny the Palace of Culture the center of Warsaw.

Not only does the building’s physical presence still dominate the city center; its original cultural program has
improved. The Palace of Culture is now home to two theaters, a concert hall, a fashionable bar, a cinema,
two clubs, numerous restaurants and coffee shops, not to mention a youth center, a private institution of higher
learning and multitudes of offices. With all that it has to offer, it’s no surprise the Palace has been appropriated by many young Varsovians as a cult landmark. Its image can be found on ironic t-shirts alongside the Fiat 126, another icon of the communist Polish People’s Republic.

While it is a positive step that the Palace has been appropriated by contemporary, popular institutions, the urban policy of the city towards it is ambivalent and confusing. For example, Defilad Square, at the foot of the Palace of Culture, is one of Warsaw’s most representative public spaces. In the 90’s it was appropriated by shop keepers selling cheap imported goods from hastily put together booths. The city decided to organize this mess and legalize the activity by building a ‘temporary’ Quonset-like structure to house the merchants (in the end it was just as much of an eyesore). When the city finally chose in 2009 to implement its plan to build a more appropriate structure for this representative public space, the shop keepers felt so entitled to their ‘shopping center’ that riots broke out. Currently the city awaits the removal of the Quonset and the subsequent construction of a modern art museum designed by a Swiss architect.

While it is clear that both the Palace of Culture and Old Town have adapted to capitalism, they have acquired different positions in the memory of the city. Old Town is a place of reverence and cultural heritage that has been meticulously reconstructed and maintained. It is a place of history that does not bear the mark of its destruction. Today the Old Town is like an old family photo album. It is a part of history that entered into the subconscious; it is fun to revisit occasionally and it confirms the sense of who you are. Right now, like that photo album, the Old Town no longer actively participates in the construction of Warsaw’s identity; rather, it documents an important but closed epoch.

The Palace of Culture, on the other hand, holds a different place in the city’s memory. It remains a visible reminder of the consequences of war. The building is a symbol of former domination, commemorating another past epoch that the city still struggles to accept. Poles no longer need to rebel against Russian rule, but they do still remember it and it is embarrassing. The position of the Palace of Culture in the city has not been diminished, despite the fact that it now shares the skyline with shiny new office buildings. There are frequent calls to tear Palace of Culture and Science, the author, 2009 Pozdrowienia z Alej Jerozolimskich, the author,
2009 down the Palace despite the fact that since 2007 it figures in the register of historic landmarks. It is an active participant in the identity of the city.

It is clear that the city has a deeply ambivalent relationship to the Old Town as well as the Palace of Culture. The old town is revered as the heart of Warsaw but it barely registers on the cultural map of the city. While it is integral to the identity of Warsaw, it has been sacrificed as a rather superficial tourist attraction. The Palace of Culture is buzzing with life, but it has not been accepted by the city. It is still considered a foreign object and very little has been done to soften its impact on the urban fabric of Warsaw.

These two methods of reconstruction have affected the architecture and identity of Warsaw. However, the city is not a passive heir of its troubled history. There are individuals, like architects, planners and cultural figures, who have struggled to built an identity for the city. This part of the population has always been observing the evolution of Warsaw. By analyzing the artwork of several individuals we can see how it informs and has been informed by the changing city.

I’ve chosen the work of artists because it is critical, yet treads lightly enough on the city infrastructure to be a more direct critique than architecture or planning, which involve many people, many opinions and a lot of compromise. There is a handful of projects by young artists that focus on the analysis of the changing city and which are currently standing throughout Warsaw. The five works discussed in the following pages fall into two opposing camps that deal with questions of memory and identity: forgotten memory/commemoration, and the critique of commemoration and memory.

The first category of art projects that deal with urban identity admits a lack of memory in public space and attempts to fill the void. Two projects will be discussed, the sculpture ‘Pozdrowienia z Alej Jerozolimskich’ and a mural commemorating the Warsaw Uprising. In both instances the artist believes that the architecture and urban space of Warsaw do not commemorate or remember certain facts that are important to the identity of the city. ‘Greetings from Jerusalem Avenue’, Pozdrowienia z Alej Jerozolimskich, is a lifesize date palm designed by Joanna Rajkowska in 2002. It is situated at the intersection of New World Street and Jerusalem Avenue, Nowy Swiat and Aleje Jerozolimskie, a major intersection in Warsaw. According to the artist, the
sculpture is an attempt to educate the city about the significance of Jerusalem Avenue. The name originates in the 18th century, when the street led to a Jewish neighborhood called New Jerusalem. The palm tree is meant to remind us that the name ‘Jerusalem Avenue’ is not transparent, that it represents a particular history and, more importantly, the absence of a culture that was once an integral part of the city (Rajkowska).


Out of all the street art that is in the area surrounding the Old Town I will discuss a mural by Monstfur. It was created, along with many others in prominent places in the city, for the Street Art Doping Festival that occurred in the summer of 2009. The mural is situated just below the Castle Square. The location, in close proximity to the Old Town, was chosen to commemorate the 65th anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising. The organizers felt obliged to include the anniversary in their festival. The decision illustrates how important the event still is in mainstream culture and how its appropriation by street art elevated the medium itself.

The group Monstfur painted a black fissure filled with screaming white faces on a blood red background. The artists criticize, while commemorating an event important to the city. The mural represents how the uprising gainst German occupation divided Varsovians. It honors the sacrifice of the resistance fighters while acknowledging that their insurrection led to heavy retaliation by German soldiers, and the further destruction of the city.

Both art projects are a result of the artist’s perceived lack of memory regarding certain events. Rajkowska critiques a contemporary absence of memory, while Monstfur’s mural commemorates the past but also criticizes it from a contemporary perspective. The mural and the sculpture are reminders of a tragic history that is long gone, but has had a lasting impact on the character of the city.

The other category of art projects that deal with urban identity are reacting to a perceived overabundance of memory. These include works by Beata and Paweł Konarski, the BYOStory collective and Maurycy Gomulicki.

Beata and Paweł Konarski created a sculptural installation in front of a branch of the national library that houses its oldest and most valuable collections. The sculpture consists of five over-sized, primary-colored pegasi that look like a 3-D version of a child’s drawing. The installation was inspired by an exhibit inside the library devoted to the poetry of Zbigniew Herbert, whose work frequently referenced mythology. While this forms part of the context of the sculpture, it is also necessary to look across the street to the memorial of the Warsaw Uprising. It is a striking contrast; the somber figures bravely fighting against unbeatable odds are opposite a green field, a pasture with colorful and airy mythological creatures. It is hard to imagine that the contrast was not a conscious choice by the artists. The pegasi were installed in the summer of 2008 and are still on site despite the fact that the Herbert exhibit is gone. They have created a necessary counter balance to the bleak memorial.

The second project in this category is a set of commemorative plaques hung on the facades of various buildings in the Powiśle neighborhood; the project is called BYOStory. The context of these plaques are the 300+ small memorials that are found throughout the city, commemorating places related to the Warsaw Uprising and the lives lost in Warsaw due to German occupation terror, especially street executions. These mini war memorials are actively remembered and often have fresh flowers and candles placed on them. BYOStory has created an alternative plaque for the city. They have taken the stories of ordinary citizens, stories that are part of their everyday life, and memorialized them. Amongst other things these colorful plastic plaques say:

“Here on May 4th 1989 I met my beloved wife Kasia.”
“My best friend from childhood lived in this house.”
“I used to sit on this bench with my grandfather every spring.”
“My first kiss was under this tree.”
“Here my dog Gapsi dug up a gold ring.”
“I’ve bought my newspaper in this kiosk for the last 40 years.”

The artists themselves state that they are interested in reclaiming public space for the citizens of the city. That is only a part of their goal, for they are interested in understanding how a city interweaves memories that are part of the personal narrative of everyday life with the grander narrative of events that go down in history.

The last project mentioned here is a sculpture entitled Lightgush, Światłotrysk, created by Maurycy Gomulicki. It is an exuberant 17 m (56ft) tall neon set in a park between a neighborhood of communist era apartment blocks and a main artery into the city. Pink bubbles light up irregularly as if they were fizzing in a giant glass of soda. The sculpture is an excellent example of the artist’s admitted obsession with communist era aesthetics. While communism evokes everything gray and drab, this sculpture is happy and light.Gomulicki
retells the story of the Polish People’s Republic. Lightgush questions our memory of what was considered a harsh regime, whose symbol, the Palace of Culture, is to this day reviled. The artist dares to ask the city if those could have been carefree, good times, or, even worse, if today’s times so gray that they’ve tinged the past pink?

These three projects approach the question of memory and commemoration in two different historical moments. Both the pegasi and plaques are projects that react to the commemoration of Warsaw’s war wounds, to the martyrology of the city. Lightgush reacts to the memory of communism. The common theme amongst them is the artist’s attempt to reclaim the city for those who live in it today and want to enjoy it. There are too many painful memories for these artists. They do not want to live in a museum or mausoleum, but a vibrant city that is open to its citizens and that looks towards the future.

The five projects taken together illustrate the paradox of Warsaw’s identity. On the one hand, represented by the first group, there is a reverence for the past and desire to remember and commemorate it. This desire for commemoration is justified by the fact that in the context of WWII the identity of Warsaw is skewed to over-represent one event, the Uprising, at the expense of other horrific and difficult memories, like the decimation of the Jewish population. Simultaneously, the desire, represented by the second group of artists, to break from a difficult and painful history and to rise above it, is perfectly understandable.

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The current identity of Warsaw is integrally linked with its reconstruction, which consisted of the choice to rebuild or build anew. As part of the healing process, a sense of community developed around the new symbols of culture and resistance. The ability of Warsaw’s citizens to be Varsovians made the reconstruction of the city of Warsaw possible because it is the reciprocal relationship between people and architecture that ultimately defines the city. In 1966 Czesław Niemen, a popular folk singer, captured his city in the song ‘A Dream about Warsaw’, Sen o Warszawie:

I have, just like you,                                          Mam, tak samo jak ty,
My city, and in it:                                              Miasto moje a w nim:
My most beautiful world                                   Najpiękniejszy mój świat
My most beautiful days                                     Najpiękniejsze dni
I left there, my colorful dreams                          Zostawiłem tam, kolorowe sny

Today the song is still popular and has become the unofficial anthem of the Legia-Warszawa soccer club. It continues to move Varsovians for it captures the idea that the city, despite its sad history and gray architecture, is their city, filled with their lives and dreams.

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