52
that he has once again
seen too late to prevent the burning.” She continues, “to awaken is
thus precisely to awaken only to one’s repetition of a previous failure to see in time.”
69
Lacan suggests that the dream is not about a father sleeping in the face of external death,
but rather it is about the very identity of the father as bound up with the death that he
survives. For Caruth, this constitutes Lacan’s profound insight: “If Freud reads in the
dream of the burning child the story of a sleeping consciousness figured by a father
unable to face the accidental death of his child, Lacan, for his part,
reads in the awakening
the story of the way father
and child are inextricably bound together through the story of
a trauma.”
70
For Lacan this constitutes an ethical relation to the real; awakening from the
dream engages a larger question of responsibility. Caruth summarises, “to awaken is thus
to bear the imperative to survive: to survive no longer simply as the father of a child, but
as the one who must tell
what it means not to see.”
71
What does this mean for Dłubak,
himself a survivor of the camps? To awaken from the dream
world that he has created in
his images would be to awaken to his survival, to his status as witness, and to
acknowledge his inability to have seen those events in time, his lack of preparedness for
the events of the war. Caruth suggests that through the act of survival, the repeated failure
to have seen in time becomes “the imperative of a speaking that awakens others,” an
imperative to transmit this failure to have seen in time to others. Interestingly the
message
Dłubak chooses to transmit in the post-war years is characterised by incomprehensibility,
his photographs speak of the frustration of vision and the impossibility of seeing.
72
Dłubak created this series within a particular political climate in late 1940s Poland. In
September 1948 Bolesław Bierut was appointed Secretary General of the Central
Committee of the
Polska Zjednoczona Partia Robotnicza [Polish United Workers’ Party]
(PZPR), an appointment which cemented Soviet influence in Polish politics. Poland was
subjected to increasingly restrictive rule under the influence of Stalin, especially in
matters of culture. Art increasingly came to be seen as a way of measuring “the sincerity
of the artist’s relationship with socialism.”
73
The year prior to his appointment, Bierut had
made a speech to mark the opening of a radio station in Wrócław.
This speech in
November 1947 set out the role the Party expected art to play in society: “Of the various
69
Caruth,
Unclaimed Experience, 100.
70
Ibid., 102.
71
Caruth,
Unclaimed Experience, 103.
72
Ibid.,107.
73
Vit Havránek, “The Post-Bipolar Order and the Status of Public and Private under Communism,” in
Promises of the Past, eds. Christine Macel and Nata a Petres in (Zurich: Jrp Ringier, 2010), 27.
53
means of affecting people, it is art that probably has the most profound and universal
impact on society, improving it, enlightening and nurturing it.
A work of art can
profoundly affect the mind as well as the feelings and the imagination, can electrify
people, persuade and captivate them.”
74
Bierut’s words make clear that art had a function,
a specific job to do, and the form that this art was to take became increasingly debated.
The Polish art critic Urszula Czartoryska retrospectively noted that “the evolution of
experimental photography reached its apogee in 1948,” a trajectory that was abruptly
curtailed the following year with the imposition of Socialist Realism.
75
At this charged moment, in both culture and politics, Dłubak chose to title his abstract
photographs with excerpts from a poem by the
Chilean writer Pablo Neruda,
El corazón
magallánico (1519) [
The Magellan Heart] (1942), an epic poem that was translated into
Polish by Czesław Miłosz.
76
Dłubak appropriated his titles from the headings to different
sections of the poem:
Budzę się nagle w nocy myśląc o dalekim Południu [I wake up
suddenly at night thinking of the distant south] [
I.18];
I remember the loneliness of the
straights [
Przypominam samotność cieśniny] [
I.15];
Odkrywcy zjawiają się I nic z nich
nie zostaje [Discoveries appear and disappear without trace] [
I.16];
Dosięga Pacyfiku [It
Reaches the Pacific]. Lech Lechowicz suggests this was one of the first attempts in
Poland to connect photography with poetry. The photographs served as a visual
complement to the poem, suggesting associative meanings
that could be produced from
the combination of image and text.
El Corazon Magallanico begins with a sailor who is
lost and disorientated; the first nine lines recount how he is unable to remember who he
is, what day it is, where he is from. This disorientation invoked at the start of the poem is
reinforced in Dłubak’s accompanying picture,
Budzę się nagle w nocy myśląc o dalekim
Południu [
I.18] which is almost impossible to decipher; we see a surface that
resembles
glass or frozen water
upon which appear globules of water and painterly brush marks. A
nebulous cloud of faint droplets resembles stars in the distant cosmos; the large bright
circle that looms behind could be the disk of a setting sun or a rising moon. There is very
little we can say for certain about the image. Just like the sailor, the viewer is at sea.
74
Quoted in Adam Czerniawski, “Engineering the People's Dreams,” in
The Mature Laurel. Essays on
Modem Polish Poetry (Bridgend: Seren Books, 1991), 136.
75
Urszula Czartoryska, “Avant-garde photography in Poland,” in
Pr sences polonaises: l'art vivant autour
du Mus e de ódź, exhibition catalogue (Paris: Centre Georges Pompidou, 1983), 25.
76
Published in the magazine
Cuadernos Americanos [American Notebooks] in 1942.