You took part in the Celluloid Solidarity podcast, which introduces Polish cinema to English-speaking audiences. Why do you think it’s important for people outside of Poland to hear these kinds of stories and perspectives?

I believe it’s essential for audiences outside of Poland to engage with these perspectives because they offer a different, sometimes unexpected, way of seeing the world. There are universal themes in our stories—about memory, belonging, and resilience that resonate across cultures. At the same time, the Polish experience, shaped by complex historical transitions, adds a distinct voice to global conversations about solidarity, community, and the role of the past in shaping the present. Engaging with these narratives fosters cross-cultural understanding and reminds us that cinema is a powerful bridge between different realities.

In your film The Soil, you explore layers of history, landscape, and sound. What initially inspired you to create this film, and what questions were you trying to explore through it?

The Soil began as a personal curiosity. I was drawn to the idea of how landscapes hold memories, sometimes visible, often buried. The film became an exploration of how we connect with the past—not through history books, but through physical spaces, sounds, and rituals. I wanted to ask: How do we listen to the voices that are no longer here? And can music, as a form of oral history, keep those voices alive? The Soil is about absence, but also about continuity—about how life, in its quiet, everyday rhythms, carries forward the echoes of what came before.

What was the process of recording your episode like? Were there any memorable moments or unexpected challenges that arose during the preparation?

Recording the episode was an interesting process because it allowed me to reflect on my own work from a different perspective. Discussing Polish cinema in an international context made me more aware of how our storytelling traditions fit into a broader cinematic landscape. One of the memorable moments was realizing how certain themes in my film, which I initially thought were very local, resonated strongly with the podcast hosts and their audiences. The biggest challenge was probably condensing complex ideas into a clear and engaging conversation.

Music plays a role in The Soil, accompanying the characters through key life events and supporting their emotional journeys. Could you share how you approached the use of music in the film, both conceptually and during the creative process?

From the beginning, I knew that music would be an essential part of The Soil, not just as a soundtrack but as an active presence in the film. Traditional songs in this region often serve to process emotions, to grieve, to celebrate, to connect. I wanted the music to emerge naturally from the lives of the characters, rather than being imposed from the outside. During the creative process, we worked closely with local musicians, capturing authentic performances in real settings. This allowed music to carry the weight of history while remaining deeply personal. The songs in the film aren’t just accompaniment; they are a language of memory.

How does the music layer in The Soil help express solidarity within the community and between people?

Music in The Soil is more than an artistic choice; it’s a form of collective memory. When people sing together, they share something beyond words—a feeling of belonging, a recognition of shared experience. In the film, music serves as a bridge between generations, carrying stories that might otherwise be lost. It also brings people together in moments of grief and celebration, reinforcing the idea that no one is truly alone in their experiences. In a way, the musical layer of the film mirrors the broader theme of solidarity: the idea that the past and present, the individual and the community, are all interconnected.

Film O’Clock International Festival connects 11 countries through films and discussions. How do you see this festival supporting the idea of solidarity between different cultures?

The Film O’Clock International Festival is a beautiful initiative because it emphasizes shared experiences across different cultural and national contexts. By screening films simultaneously in multiple countries and creating space for dialogue, it reminds us that storytelling has no borders. In a time when divisions often seem more visible than connections, festivals like this one help reaffirm a sense of common ground.