Welcome the Stranger: An urban installation for social engagement [Lublin, Poland]

It's been an intense and magical week in Lublin, Poland. A Kabbalistic text appears over the archway of the Brama Grodzka; a flamingo is invited to perch in a storks nest high in a poplar tree; the words of Polish veterans from Afghanistan and Iraq are projected on the walls of the cultural center, reminding us of the hospitality that veterans need after the trauma of war. In the passageway of one the crooked streets of the Old Town, the voice of the local poet Jozef Czechowicz-- killed in the German bombardment of September, 1939, fills the air... just near the vinyl record shop where they're playing Talking Heads and Miles Davis. And at the Old Well in what is now the bus depot-- and was once the Jewish quarter of Lublin-- a voice sings forth on the hour with the words of asylum seekers, some from Guatemala, some from Eritrea, Iraq. "I don't even know where this ship is taking me." "I'm sorry cousin, I could not save you." These art projects are all part of Open City Festival 2019, curated by Pawel Leszkowicz and Tomasz Kitlinski-- dear souls, fiery social activists-- who invited me and artist Dorit Cypis to create a piece for the festival they had set on the theme of "Hospitality" one of fourteen artist projects. Thus, "Welcome the Stranger," an installation for social engagement... with a text inspired by Edmond Jabes that asks, "What is a foreigner?" "What does a foreigner help us understand?" After the installation, Dorit and I have loved /watching people in the busy bus depot-- carrying their satchels and suitcases-- arriving or leaving for other cities, countries-- and the local cabbies-- reading the text and listening to the Voice of the Well... which is a witness from the past, the only surviving well of the many that once served the city's citizens, places where people came together to fill their buckets wth water, wells that were drawn from springs and river under the cities, connecting Lublin to places far away, to other continents... all connected. On opening night, we joined a procession of 200 plus people that began on the steps of Lublin Castle, then proceeded to the bus station and the Old Well, and on into the old city to visit all the art projects and listen to the artists speak about them, a beautiful night with a full moon, a city engaging with art, with history, with questions about hospitality and the lack thereof, in this world we all shar

"This happened centuries ago. This happened yesterday."

For "Welcome The Stranger: an urban project for civic engagement," we thank our collaborators-- Jimmy Harry (sound score composition); Magdalena Birczynska (vocals); Piotr Florcyzk (translation), Lloyd Hamrol (water station design)-- and the wonderful Lublin artists Magda and Ludo Franczyck who added their support plus Ludo's beautiful performance at the Well; the art historian Joanna Zetar, from Brama Grodzka, who offered a fascinating talk on the history of Lublin's wells and waterways... and took us to see the mural of Jewish Lublin placed along the small river that runs near the well...another delight of "hidden Lublin," all that exists below the ground and in memory, kept alive by those indefatigable guardians of memory at Teatr NN... friends Joanna Klass and Wojtek Sasznor; Katy Bentall for sustenance and hospitality in the beautiful village of Dobre, to the staff at Rozdroza Foundation and the great tech team, Marcin and our guy Krzysztof Spoz and our friends and supporters on Gofundme, thank you all thank you all and many more.

Water station designed by Lloyd Hamrol, in front of Lublin Castle

Artist Ludo Franczak giving a talk at the Well, his search for the key to the Well, and playing his recording of the sound of the Well taking a breath, taking our breaths away.

A woman reads the text on the Old Well at the bus depot. [photo: Katy Bentall]

Dorit Cypis in conversation with two Lublin cabdrivers at the Old Well, talking about the text they just around, about “foreignness.”

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Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child