Once upon a time, when I was studying Italian art at the Jagiellonian University, in Krakow, I lived on the tenth floor of a block of flats, in two rooms with a couple of beds that doubled as armchairs, a wardrobe and a mysterious grand piano that was never played, though its presence was strangely inspiring – perhaps it gave that simple dwelling an aura of high culture? Wonderful parties happened often, food was cooked spontaneously by arriving guests, many of whom I’d met for the first time, wine was shared freely, music of all kinds was played, and we talked and talked and talked.
In the same place, on a calm midwinter day with the sunshine bouncing off a thick layer of snow covering a long and wide windowsill, I photographed Lucyna, whose persona was far removed from that kind of wild partying. ‘Pull back your hair’, I said, and pressed the shutter button before her fingertips touched the cheeks. Our synchronized gestures caught a fleeting moment forever.