In this article, you can read the editorial from our latest newsletter written by Eidolon-editor Endre Cserna, which were sent out on August 1st, 2024. We publish our monthly editor's letters, in which we reflect on recent events, approximately two weeks after the newsletter is out.
If you'd like to receive the latest editorials and other updates on Eidolon's work without waiting, please consider subscribing to our newsletter here!
Dear Eidolon Readers,
Krzysztof Kieślowski was one of the most important filmmakers of Eastern and Central Europe emerging in the Soviet era, particularly in the unique and profound way he addressed the question of freedom (and liberty) in personal, political, religious, and philosophical terms, and how its meaning changed in the context of the realities of the Cold War years. This theme, in both hidden and overt ways, forms the backbone of his character-driven oeuvre which has an ominous aura imbued with unmistakable regional pessimism. As another legendary director (and in his younger years – avid photographer), Stanley Kubrick wrote in a foreword of a book containing Kieślowski’s screenplays: „I am always reluctant to single out some particular feature of the work of a major filmmaker because it tends inevitably to simplify and reduce the work. But in this book of screenplays by Krzysztof Kieślowski and his co-author, Krzysztof Piesiewicz, it should not be out of place to observe that they have the very rare ability to dramatize their ideas rather than just talking about them. By making their points through the dramatic action of the story they gain the added power of allowing the audience to discover what's really going on rather than being told. They do this with such dazzling skill, you never see the ideas coming and don't realize until much later how profoundly they have reached your heart.”
Kieślowski’s 1979 Polish film, "Amator" (in English titled: "Camera Buff"), tells the story of a man who becomes absolutely driven to capture everything around him after becoming the first Super 8 camera owner in his town. He gets unexpectedly commissioned by the Party to document local events, and his works are showcased at festivals. However, what seems like the fulfilment of a cinephile's dream also disrupts and dismantles his personal life. Not only does the issue of censorship and propaganda clash with his naive creative and artistic expression, but he ultimately loses his family as well.

The protagonist's obsession foreshadows today's world of networked images, retrospectively reminding us that the contemporary flood of images didn't start with digital tools but with the advent of more affordable and accessible (and democratic) technologies. But there is an important difference – Kieślowski, rooted in modernity, maybe couldn't foresee a society of self-worship – the protagonist is extremely preoccupied with capturing his surroundings and the reality around him, not with capturing himself. The camera turning on him (as if he is shooting himself) is only the final stage after the “collapse”, simultaneously manifesting the solipsism of critical self-reflection and (again) liberating self-destruction and reconstruction. This gesture reveals a completely different relationship between the human and the camera than what we generally imagine – moreover, in Kieślowski's drama, the amateur's profane camera almost transforms into a sacred instrument.
The role of taking photographs in one’s everyday life, as well as looking at these images, can – perhaps even unintentionally, unconsciously – reveal dimensions and layers not otherwise visible to us. We find this facet of everyday photography profoundly inspiring and are dedicated to exploring it in detail.
All the best,
Endre Cserna
You can find all previous editor's letters at this link.




