polish notes

Modernist tear

It was nearing midnight when I continued scouring the web in search of contact information for the residential community. I stumbled upon a place where allegedly a beautiful, modernist staircase was located, and I was eager to capture it in photographs. As a rule, I don’t like to enter someone’s space without permission, as it is quite impolite. I, as a resident, would feel strange if a stranger came to my apartment building and started taking pictures. Well, it has happened that I entered without asking, but I generally try to avoid it.

Typically, I check if the place I’m interested in has any companies based there. For example, in tenements, it’s quite common. I then write an email asking for permission, and there is usually no problem with that. But here, there was nothing. Moreover, the staircase was in a modern, “luxurious” building constructed in the 1930s.

“So there’s a risk that the residents won’t want to share their privacy,” I thought, “but it’s worth a try.”

Earlier, I went to the location to see if there was any bulletin board with a phone number for the administration, or anything of the sort. Unfortunately, I found nothing. It tempted me to wait until someone entered or exited, but I decided to persist.

The breakthrough came in the dead of night when I came across a PDF on a subcontractor’s website. It contained references issued by the aforementioned community, and their email address was visible.

“Bingo!” I whispered to myself. I immediately wrote an email and armed myself with patience.

Days passed, and there was silence. No response. I regretted not attaching a tracking script to the email. Then I would at least know if it had been opened and whether the contact was still valid.

Finally, after a week, the response arrived. “Dear Madam, we agree…” seemingly nothing, but I jumped with joy. They agreed, with certain conditions, but entirely acceptable. Now, all that was left was to wait for suitable weather to have as much natural light as possible for a well-lit staircase. In November, it’s difficult to find such a sunny day, so once again, I had to arm myself with patience and wait.

I took a break from work, called a taxi, and set off. The sun was bright and quite sharp.

“A bit like in January,” I thought, looking out the Uber window. I arrived ten minutes ahead of time. We had arranged a specific time without providing any additional contact. I left only my phone number “just in case.”

Ten past the agreed time, and there was silence.

“I’ll wait until half past and then we’ll see,” I said to myself. I stood in the cold, shifting from foot to foot. The sun was shining, but the cold was palpable. Finally, twenty past, and the phone vibrated.

“Please call >apartment number< ,” a male voice said. I dialed the apartment number on the intercom, and the door opened. Before my eyes, a beautiful, modernist staircase revealed itself.

“At last!” I smiled joyfully to myself and got to work :) 📷