Article courtesy Polish Heritage, a quarterly of the American Council for Polish Culture

Spring 2003, Vol.54, No.1 issue

 

Polish-American Filmmaker Fights To Bring

“Wiktor: The Art of Survival”

To the Screen

 

 

 

Opening the envelope, Julian Siminski felt a chill.

 

For the moment, he thought he was looking at a sketch of his late father, Edward. The kind, sad eyes, the quiet strength, thin hair, strong nose and cheekbones -- exactly the same. But his father had hardly left any photos behind to remember him by, let alone something so special as this.

 

Like millions of Polish Americans, Julian – a native of Buffalo, New York, and now a documentary filmmaker living in Los Angeles -- had recently felt the need to trace his family heritage, and turned to the Internet for clues to his lost ancestry. When his search turned up the name of "Wiktor Siminski" on an Australian University's Holocaust site, he sent away for a copy of the man's picture.

 

Wiktor's resemblance to Julian's father was just the beginning of a fascination that quickly captured Julian's attention. He learned that Wiktor was an unsung Polish national hero, a Holocaust survivor, a celebrated artist and writer. The sketch, it turned out, was a self-portrait -- drawn by Wiktor when he was a prisoner in Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp. Within a few weeks, Julian's curiosity about Wiktor became a profound personal quest. For more than two years, Julian has spent most of his waking hours working  to bring Wiktor's story to the screen in his documentary film, "Wiktor: The Art of Survival."

 

As he learned more about Wiktor's life, Julian developed a feeling of deep kinship with the man. "With Wiktor's story," he says, "I felt this connection, this intensely spiritual connection, to this man who I had never met, who I didn't even know existed." Julian was struck by the deep parallels between Wiktor's character and his own. He knew in his heart that Wiktor was a kindred spirit.

 

In Wiktor’s story, Julian sensed a vital “secret of survival.”  Particularly in the uncertain aftermath of September 11, he feels that Wiktor’s example carries a profound lesson for a contemporary audience.  The intent is that the film will become a source of hope for countless victims of hate, bigotry, intolerance and terrorism. He believes also that "Wiktor: The Art of Survival" will be a profound point of pride for millions of Poles and Polish-Americans, whose story has been largely ignored by the Media.

 

 

Searching through seemingly endless genealogy data on the Internet, in libraries and through painstaking correspondence with government archives, Julian spent years looking for his relatives in a private quest to establish a sense of family that had eluded him growing up.  One Internet search brought up an Australian University website with their Holocaust course curriculum online.

 

There was Wiktor's name. The site didn't give many details -- only that a “Wiktor Siminski” had survived as a prisoner at Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp for more than five years - -a remarkable feat. Julian also read that Wiktor was noted for his artistic talents, and that he had created beautiful works of art while enduring the horrors of the Camp. Indeed, Holocaust scholars surmised that Wiktor survived because of his ability to create.  More research revealed that a special exhibit, "Wiktor Siminski -- The Art of Survival" -- had recently been mounted at the Sachsenhausen Memorial Museum outside Berlin. 

 

With little more than that to go on, Julian sensed that a powerful and urgent story of the "Hidden Holocaust" was crying out to be told.   He and his filmmaking partner, Director Rob Wilson, raised a bare-bones budget and headed for Berlin in the summer of 2000. Joining with German cinematographer Julia Kunert and associate Teodora Ansaldo, they launched into an onsite investigation, recording every moment on tape.

 

The quest started at the only place Julian knew Wiktor had passed through -- Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp outside Berlin. With the aid of Berlin Holocaust scholar Joachim Mueller, the crew quickly uncovered a wealth of information about Wiktor.

 

 

According to archives at Sachsenhausen, Wiktor was an artist, writer, and member of the Polish Underground who was arrested by the Gestapo within days of Germany's invasion of Poland in 1939. He was on the Nazi's "most wanted" list and was sent off to Skrochowice Concentration Camp in the former Czechoslovakia, where he was interrogated and tortured by the SS in a futile effort to get him to reveal the names of his compatriots in the Underground. When Wiktor resisted, the Nazis sent him on to Sachsenhausen where he remained until he was liberated on the “Death March” in 1945.

 

Together with official Sachsenhausen Guide Maika Leffers, Mueller walked the film  crew through the places where Wiktor had lived out his days in the Camp. Most horrifying was the notorious "Klinkerwerks" (brick works), a site where prisoners were sent, essentially, to die. Inmates were forced to collect heavy stones from a bog and run up and down a muddy slope. When a prisoner slipped and fell, those behind were instructed to step on the man's back -- pushing him down into the mud.

 

Standing on the now-grassy slope overlooking a peaceful pond, Mueller grew solemn.  "We are in a place of great beauty,” he said, “but in reality, we are standing on blood."

 

The crew documented the places where Wiktor worked and slept, often nothing more than outlines on the bare ground. But Wiktor’s past came suddenly alive when they were ushered behind the walls and into the Sachsenhausen Archives. There, they were able to view some of the vast collection of artwork that Wiktor had created during his internment. Camp records showed that Wiktor became widely respected among his fellow prisoners for his artistic abilities. By trading his daily bread ration for pencils and paper, Wiktor created sketches of life and death in the camp. He also became known for the sketches he created in the monthly letters prisoners were allowed to send to their families and contacts on the outside. Many of these sketches contained ingeniously hidden messages about the true conditions in the camp, which went undetected by the SS censors. Many of his creations reveal Wiktor's unwavering faith in the beauty of life, and a steadfast belief that the misery would end and that a better world awaited. He also exhibited a remarkable capacity for “gallows humor,” which scholars say was a key to day-to-day survival amidst the horrors of the camp.

 

Among his art pieces were beautiful inlaid boxes, graceful sketches, carved pipes -- even watercolors -- fashioned with tools made from discarded bicycle spokes, scraps of metal, glass and wood that he found around the camp. The archivists produced Wiktor's actual camp uniform, bearing a red triangle with the letter "P," marking him as a Polish political prisoner. The archives also contained numerous letters -- suggesting Wiktor's family history, his hometown, and who his friends may have been. But there was no time for Julian’s crew to translate or study the documents. That would have to come later.

 

Records confirmed that Wiktor was liberated by Allied troops on the infamous Nazi "Death March" in May of 1945.  Historians believe that this mass forced exodus was part of a final plan by the SS to erase any trace of the camps.  The entire population of Sachsenhausen – except those too weak to walk -- was being herded toward the North Sea.  There, the Nazis reportedly planned to pack the prisoners onto ships and sink them in a last desperate attempt to eliminate all witnesses to their barbarity.  Rescued, Wiktor immediately returned to Poland, probably on foot.

 

In one of the most stunning revelations caught on tape, a top Sachsenhausen official, Dr. Horst Sefrens, said that shortly after returning home, Wiktor set about writing a meticulous 1300 page memoir -- a remarkable accomplishment since so few survivors could bear to relive the horrors they had escaped. But Wiktor not only relived his ordeal, but provided names, dates and even photos of the murdered and the murderers, the betrayed and their betrayers. He also created dozens of sketches and watercolors graphically illustrating what he had witnessed -- memories most Survivors were too traumatized to revisit, let alone record. But Wiktor did.

 

Some of Wiktor's artwork has surfaced in a collection sold to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. But in a series of events still shrouded in mystery and layered in wartime intrigue, the manuscript itself mysteriously dropped from sight for the next fifty years. The whereabouts of the "Lost Manuscript" became known to some people in Poland and Germany only in the last few years. Those who have seen the document describe it as a foot-high stack of yellowed, typewritten pages, filled with careful lists of the members of the Polish Underground who were arrested along with Wiktor, and their pictures.

 

The book -- still in the original Polish -- also gives the names and photos of the people who betrayed the patriots. Many of the family members of these Nazi collaborators are reportedly still living in Germany and Poland. The text also reportedly details his experiences in the Silesian Uprisings before the war, little known details of the super-secret Polish Underground, Wiktor's arrest, torture and the atrocities he witnessed in the first weeks and months of the war. He describes his years at Sachsenhausen, and on the "Death March.” Wiktor's writings may also detail Liberation, his overland journey back to Poland, his bitter homecoming and later, his struggle to make a living under the Communists.

 

 

The "lost manuscript" remains hidden. In a secret negotiation, the pages were offered to Sachsenhausen for a price that was reportedly exorbitant. But Sachsenhausen's Dr. Sefrens confided that the Memorial eventually did purchase the one chapter -- about 300 pages -- dealing with Wiktor's time at the camp, which is slowly being translated. Just from the small number of pages he has seen, Sefrens said, Wiktor's revelations could well turn out to be "one of the most important reports that we have of what it was like to be a prisoner at the Camps."

 

Like the saga of the "Lost Manuscript," Wiktor's life soon emerged as a bona fide mystery of epic proportions. In interview after interview, many key facts of Wiktor's life were similarly shrouded in secrecy, with just enough revealed on camera to draw Julian and his crew down an investigative trail that grew more fascinating every day.

 

They knew almost nothing about Wiktor's family ties before traveling to Berlin. But within moments of meeting at Sachsenhausen, with the camera rolling, Mueller revealed that Wiktor had a wife, daughter and son in Poland. He said he was a political prisoner, a high priority for the Gestapo's "enemies' list."

Mueller admitted that he knew more, but said Sachsenhausen has strict rules of privacy, which prevented him from saying anything else.

 

Then, after that apparent dead end, there was a new breakthrough. The director of the Sachsenhausen archive, Monika Knop, made a telephone call to Wiktor's daughter. Curious to meet this relative from the States, the daughter agreed to talk to Julian, and invited him and his crew to come to her home.

 

The drive was heavy with anticipation and anxieties -- what would they find out? Would they be welcomed? The visit -- recorded on video -- turned out to be cordial, but strained. Like the trip to Sachsenhausen, the visit with Wiktor's daughter raised as many questions as it answered. She claimed not to know where or how Wiktor had died, and whenever Julian probed for details of Wiktor's last days, the on-camera conversation grew more halting, the faces of the family more pained. In one startling moment, the daughter says on tape that she didn't want to know about her father when he came home -- that the family was "ashamed" of him.

 

That word -- "ashamed" -- shocked the crew. Why would the family shun such a brave and heroic man, a man who had fought through his youth for a free Poland, who risked his life to resist the Nazis, and survived the Camps and the Death March? A possible answer would emerge later on when the crew interviewed another of Wiktor’s relatives.

 

 

Julian at Sachsenhausen, with Julia Kunert,

cinematographer/translator, and Joaquim Muller, Holocaust scholar

 

The investigation took the crew on the train to Poland, where Julian tracked down Wiktor's nephew, as well as a woman who had served with him in the Underground. An interview with the former Communist director of a museum where Wiktor's works had reportedly been shown produced only a bewildering string of denials -- raising new questions about what happened to the countless paintings, sketches, photographs and other works Wiktor created.

 

More tantalizing clues turned up as to the whereabouts of Wiktor's "lost manuscript," and how he was ostracized by his family, friends and the country he had fought and suffered for. In an interview with Wiktor’s nephew, a harsh and tragic portrait began to emerge of Wiktor's last days. In response to a question posed to the nephew about why Wiktor’s family could have been "ashamed" of him, Julian learned the tragic wartime pressures that tore Wiktor's family apart, and turned father against daughter.

 

In a hushed and pained voice, Wiktor's nephew explained that the daughter, though Polish, had been educated and raised in the heavily German enforced culture of their small border city, and had fallen in love with a German officer. By the time Wiktor returned from Sachsenhausen, his town and his family was for all intents and purposes German. To the German citizens of the town -- who had literally dictated the fate of families like his -- Wiktor was a pariah. Wiktor’s daughter, so strongly influenced by her German surroundings and social structure, had to make the painful choice of being with the man she loved or giving him up out of respect for her father. It became clear that Wiktor’s daughter was also a victim of a tragic situation; in the twisted context of postwar Poland, his family's "shame" became easier to understand.

 

Wiktor’s nephew went on to explain that, because of Wiktor's allegiance to a free Poland in what had become a Communist state after the war, he was branded "persona non grata" and lived out the rest of his days virtually penniless and alone. His patriotic art and anti-establishment attitudes ensured that he never achieved the social standing that he deserved.  Much of his art ”disappeared,” possibly confiscated and carted off to Moscow.  His manuscript was ignored.  He was shunned by former friends and neighbors, with the possible exception of a comrade from the Camps, who may have been his only companion at the end.

 

Wiktor had led a truly heroic life, but the grief and betrayal he must have felt after a lifetime of defending his homeland against the Germans and suffering five years in a concentration camp under the Nazis was probably too much for him to bear.

 

There were hints that he suffered a stroke, and possibly committed suicide. There were reports that Wiktor most likely was buried in a remote mountain monastery for indigent men in an unmarked grave. Such clues -- and the tantalizing mystery of the missing manuscript -- demanded to be addressed. 

 

The details of Wiktor's final days were almost within reach.  But just as the production team was close to solving the mysteries of Wiktor’s life, their small budget ran out.   Julian and his crew returned to Berlin, said their good-byes, and he returned to Los Angeles.   Encouraged by what they had managed to uncover in two short weeks, they all expected to be back on the trail again in a few months.    Back in the States, Julian went to work to raise the necessary funds to continue the quest. The brief trip had unfurled a long list of unfinished tasks: to finally see Wiktor's manuscript rescued from its obscurity, translated and published; to uncover the truth of what happened to so much of Wiktor's "lost" art; to track down the people who knew Wiktor and could fill in the gaps in the story of his courageous struggle, his survival and his final days; to pay for a proper memorial at Wiktor's grave; and to complete the film that will document it all.

 

 

Raising the funds has become a full-time job itself.  The film – just like Wiktor’s writings and artwork – remains unfinished – just as his tormentors would have wished. While the struggle to realize the film has been draining, Julian has received steady encouragement from many sources.  As Julian relates the story to Polish survivors and scholars of the “Forgotten Holocaust,” he has been told over and over “not to give up,” no matter how difficult the task becomes.  A screening of a short demonstration tape of the film was held in August 2002 before an enthusiastic Los Angeles audience.  Dozens of people expressed their fascination and amazement at the little-known history revealed in the short work-in-progress, and all wanted to know more.

 

To date, more than 20 hours of footage have been recorded, including interviews with family members, acquaintances, and Holocaust experts.  Research has turned up several fellow Polish survivors.  Work is underway to track down the missing manuscript and facilitate its translation and  publication.

 

The plan is to return to Poland, the Czech Republic and Germany to conduct interviews with people who knew Wiktor, and to document the details revealed in his manuscript.  In Poland, the crew hopes to interview two Polish artists and Auschwitz survivors, Jozef Szajna and Marion Kolodziej.  In addition they plan to film in Washington D.C. at the US Memorial Holocaust Museum, where much of Wiktor's artwork and writings are stored.

 

The project has established an Advisory Board, including Historian and Author Dr. Richard C. Lukas. Dr. Lukas is a recognized international authority on the Polish experience under the Nazis, and is the author of several seminal works on the subject, including “The Forgotten Holocaust,” and  Did the Children Cry?:  Hitler’s War Against Jewish and Polish Children, 1939-1945.“

 

“Wiktor Siminski’s story needs to be told,” Dr. Lukas states. “Siminski told us through his art what it was like to endure the degradations and horrors of the Nazis.  His compelling art leaves no room for misinterpretation of what the Poles had to endure under the Germans.”

 

Those feelings are affirmed by another Advisory Board member, Dr. Annamaria Orla-Bukowska, Professor at the Institute of Sociology at Jagiellonian University in Krakow.  “There is a need for more documentaries telling the tale of survivors and the way such persons maintained their humanity in the face of barbarity.” Dr. Orla-Bukowska says.    “Having met with Julian Siminski, and having met and come to know other persons who have joined this project, I am certain not only of its merit, but that the outcome will be an in-depth study of one life with universal meaning for the lives of many others.”

 

Other members of the Advisory Board include: Sachsenhausen survivor and author, Dr. Iwo Cyprian Pogonowski; Art Historian, Dr. Carol Zemel, Professor and Chair of the Department of Visual Arts at York University in Toronto, Canada; world-renowned Trauma and Holocaust psychologist, Dr. Yael Danieli; and Sachsenhausen Holocaust Historian, Joachim Muller.  The Board members are providing scholarly guidance to the project, and have also agreed to give on-camera interviews to buttress the first-hand material and to place Wiktor’s experience in a broader historical perspective.

 

Officials at the US Memorial Holocaust Museum are also assisting with the research, and recently sent Julian hundreds of pages of documents, photos and copies of Wiktor's art. As part of their Congressional mandate to honor all victims of the Holocaust, the USHMM staff has been particularly intrigued by Wiktor's story.

  

 

Julian feels strongly that the film – while focused on events that occurred more than half a century ago – is extremely relevant today. The core of the project deals with what Julian calls “the untouched inner territory of the victim.”   What is most provocative to me about this project," he says, "is that it deals with what a person does to survive, to hold on to Self, in the face of brutality and inhumanity.  It is a timeless message, which speaks to anyone who has experienced racism, bigotry or been the victim of hate crimes – an unfortunately huge and growing audience today.

 

"Wiktor provides a model for countless Polish victims of terror, intolerance and hate,” Julian continues. “Here’s a man who had survived by connecting to his creative self. He used his artistic gifts to exorcise the pain and terror and humiliation he experienced under the Nazis and miraculously managed to hold on to his soul. That is what victims need to know:  not simply that they are victims, but that there is a way to beat those demons, to conquer the terror, and survive. Wiktor's story shows all of us that there is life beyond these traumatic experiences. We can never forget the trauma life puts upon us, but we can learn to put it in a place so that we can have a normal life again.”


 

In his recent interview for the film, Wiktor’s fellow Sachsenhausen Survivor Freddy Diament tells Julian:  “Elie Wiesel said, ‘For the dead, and for the living, you have to bear witness.’  There are survivors, like Wiktor, who felt if he was fortunate enough to survive, he has a moral obligation to tell the world what happened, and what will happen, when organized hatred takes over.   In order to make the world a better place, it is imperative: you MUST tell the truth.”

 

That was Wiktor’s mission in life, and it is not complete.  It is now the mission of “Wiktor: The Art of Survival.”  Julian is determined to never abandon Wiktor and the film, no matter how long it takes. “It’s vital,” he says, “that the words 'Never Again,' really mean never again for all of us.”

 

 

#   #   #

 

To date, “Wiktor:  The Art of Survival”  has received financial or in-kind support from the Polish Home Foundation, the Polish National Alliance (Group 700) of Los Angeles, The Morris Trust, The Brown Foundation, G.O. Wilson, Jr., Carole Weiss, Jon Rosbrook, Jehan Agrama and Dwora Fried, Nancy Nickerson, Martha Elliot, and a number of anonymous Polish-Americans.  They have also received in-kind contributions from Media 100, Inc., and the Warsaw and Prague Sheraton Hotels.  

 

A short demonstration tape is available to prospective donors.  Donations to the project are fully tax deductible through the non-profit sponsorship of the Film Arts Foundation of San Francisco; online contributions may be made at the FAF website,  www.filmarts.org, or sent to: “Wiktor: The Art of Survival,”  Attn: Merrie Snead, Film Arts Foundation, 145 Ninth St., Ste.101, San Francisco, CA 94103.  You can also contact Ms. Snead at (415) 552-8760 x301 or email: merrie@filmarts.org.  You can also contact Julian Siminski at bluemountainpix@aol.com or 818-762-1400.

 

Contact:

 

Julian Siminski

Blue Mountain Pictures, Inc.

11684 Ventura Blvd.  Suite 902

Studio City, CA 91604

Tel 818.762.1400  fax 818.762.1144

e-mail:  bluemountainpix@aol.com