We stood in the kitchen, a group of twenty, sharing a fresh pretzel—soft, fragrant, with large grains of salt clinging to its crust. The pretzel passed from hand to hand, with a smaller piece going to each successive person. When it was gone, another one followed. We laughed, saying to each other: “Share the pretzel.”
It’s possible there weren’t actually twenty of us in that moment. Some had left earlier, others arrived later. What united us that morning was disbelief—and a kind of irrational conviction that it had to be a joke.
That morning, we said goodbye to Bolek. He had fallen ill and died just a few weeks after his diagnosis.
A trip to the heaps. Bolek at work. The wind was atrocious. 2021
When I joined the Gliwice Photography Group PRECEL (meaning pretzel) in 2002, Bolek was already part of it. For ten years, we co-created a strong community of photography enthusiasts. We met regularly every Thursday, went on outdoor photo shoots of varying lengths, and organized exhibitions of our work. We were an extremely active group.
As in any community, a strong core of members naturally formed—those who were the most active or who had been around the longest, alongside those who joined for a while and then moved on.
I became part of PRECEL at a time when photography had fully taken hold of me, and it was clear I wanted to share it with others. In the autumn of 2001, I returned from the U.S. with a bag full of negatives to develop. Over the following weeks, I worked in the darkroom and searched for people with whom I could share my passion. That’s how I found PRECEL in Gliwice.
Bolek often took photos with a spinner camera. This day, together with Elvis, we wandered around Katowice. 2013
We were a diverse group, each of us emphasizing different aspects of photography, drawn to different subjects. What bound us together was our shared sense of humor (often with a touch of dark comedy 🙂), genuine commitment free from pressure or rivalry, and a love of simply having fun together.
We regularly took part in the Rybnik Festival of Photography, held exhibitions—many outside of Silesia as well—and organized photo slideshows. We shared so many adventures and memories that starting a story with “Do you remember when…” could go on forever.
From my personal perspective, the decline of our shared activity under the PRECEL name was mainly due to changes in our private lives—children were born, careers intensified. But that didn’t end our relationships; they just evolved and took on a different rhythm.
A few years ago, we also said goodbye to Witek, who passed away suddenly. Witek was the one who gave me wings—he expressed his appreciation for a few frames of American cities I’d brought to one of my first meetings. I remember thinking, phew, maybe something will come of this.
PRECEL is an integral part of my photographic journey. It’s a beautiful story of growing a passion and of people I remember fondly—and can still count on.
This is also his spinner and our meeting in Pławniowice. 2011
Bolek. His passing broke my heart.
I’m angry at myself for never telling him how important he was to me, for not giving enough, for not paying him enough attention.
He never imposed himself, never made demands. He was private and reserved, more likely to hide than to seek attention. He didn’t seek applause; praise embarrassed him. Yet he created beautiful photographs and paintings. He always felt a little out of time.
We became friends. He showed his care in a thousand small gestures.
For example, back when I didn’t yet have a car and traveled to Gliwice by train, Bolek would always drive me back to the station.
Or at the end of a photo shoot, he’d ask, half-jokingly: “At least you put the film in the camera, right?”
And no—come on—he was just teasing me. 🙂
I miss him deeply. Even though our contact had become less frequent, I always knew he was there. And now, I can’t get used to the thought that he’s not.
Bolek, thank you.