Mania Krawczyk
- Anna Lilli Garai
- Jun 25
- 3 min read
Mania Krawczyk works with photography, textiles, and bookmaking in ways that feel both intuitive and tactile. Her practice often starts with a feeling or memory—something small, like the texture of old fabric, a scraped knee, or the weight of tomatoes in her hands—and grows from there. In projects like “Tights” or her tomato photobook, she explores personal experience through playful, direct visual language. There’s a sense of humor in her work, but also sincerity. She follows what fascinates her in the moment, whether it’s silent discos, found images, or a piece of clothing she remembers from childhood.
Her work will be included in the upcoming exhibition Preserving Selves, where she continues to explore the links between emotion, material, and memory through small, honest gestures.
Tights / Torn
I wear colorful tights—
pink, red, green.
Down the sidewalk walk colorful legs,
just like they used to skip along.
And PLONK—on the ground,
tights torn, poor things,
knee scraped open.
Just like before,
tights—torn again.
Would my knee be whole
if I had worn trousers?
Q: When did you first realize that working with your hands—knitting, weaving, making—was more than just a technique for you?
A: Honestly, I’m not sure—it happened quite naturally. Methods like knitting or weaving are time-consuming, and I find that highly valuable. Each stitch, each layer is made by hand, with little to no tools. It always feels rewarding to work with the materiality of objects, whatever the medium may be. Even in photography, there’s a completely different feeling when holding a printed image, seeing its texture (or seeing it immediately in the case of instant photography)—just like with other techniques. It becomes even more meaningful when you use tangible, concrete materials. In my recent project "Preserving Selves," I was weaving and creating with my grandma’s old textiles. That was a sentimental experience, as I remembered those patterns from her creations. In moments like that, I’m extremely grateful to work with my hands, pouring my time and presence into the materials.
Q: The clumsy girl from “Tights” still seems close. What keeps her present in your everyday life?
A: I think it’s mostly moments of freedom that keep her present—moments free from stress, responsibilities, or overthinking. These are often when I’m with my dearest friends, who make me feel safe to be myself. We laugh and just are.
I also find this kind of freedom while dancing—or simply moving—like during silent discos, which I absolutely love. But most importantly, I feel it when I create. I enter a kind of bubble and dive into the process—intuitive, sometimes spontaneous—without overthinking or worry. Just creating, enclosed in that process.
Q: You describe getting fully absorbed in new fascinations. What’s something recent that pulled you in completely?
A: Recently, the motif of tomatoes completely pulled me in—I was obsessed with them, and still am, actually. I created a photobook entirely devoted to my love for tomatoes. It consisted of nine separate booklets, each presenting tomatoes in different contexts. For example, one focused on self-portraits with tomatoes, another on images that reminded me of them, though not directly or obviously. The photobook combined found footage and my own photography. When I finished it, I felt like the obsession loosened a little—but I still love the motif and find it echoing in my clothes or accessories.
Q: Humor shows up in your work, sometimes close to absurdity. Is that something you use more in the process or in how you see the world?
A: I consider humor a very important—almost essential—part of life. I don’t find the world humorous by itself; maybe sometimes its absurdity makes it so. Or perhaps we choose to find it humorous rather than sad? I love humor in people—it’s something I really value. Even during darker, more difficult times—especially now, with so much bad news and global events—I think we need to stay aware, to act, but also to maintain a sense of humor in order to stay grounded and release tension. That’s why I use humor both in my creative process and in my work. Sometimes I need it for balance—when I’m dealing with heavier subjects, I turn to lighter, more humorous projects, or I try to blend the two.
