Gdy Polska sie rozrywala w rozne kierunki, moj dziadek bezwiednie przeramal moje serce na dwoje. Jego syn, moj ojciec, zlepil te pekniecia cukrem. Klucilismy sie na temat jezyka, odrzucilismy cate ksiazki, zgubilismy cale miasta, zalowalismy konca jesieni.
Whilst Poland was tearing herself apart, my grandfather unknowingly tore my heart in two. His son, my father, pasted together the cracks with sugar. We argued over language, we denied whole books, we lost entire cities, we mourned the end of autumn.
Krissi Musiol is going on a journey across Europe to Poland in search of fragments of her grandfather. Piecing together performance text, memory and a variety of cakes, she hopes to find her way around without getting lost, but more importantly, without losing any cities.
Supported by the National Lottery through Arts Council England, this blog will enable viewers to trace Krissi’s location and follow her journey through performance text. The journeys will become the basis for a studio performance, integrating Polish and English language.