[Self Awaré] A book and series of typographic posters on linguistic peculiarities of being a half-Polish, half-Japanese.
Each poster features an original Polish-Japanese wordplay. To get the punchline, you need to know both languages. For everyone else, an explanatory text helps in deconstructing meaning and references. Barely funny and even decipherable (if at all), they're my way of talking about the peculiar feeling of being ’lost in translation’ between two distinctive languages and cultures.
An accompanying book features short autobiographical essays on how language shaped my relations with family and surroundings. The essays are intertwined with the reproductions of posters, as well as photographs taken during various journeys.
Self ałare [self awaré]
Awaré (哀れ) means a state of profound emotional emotion, but also pity, sympathy, grief, pathos, or melancholy.
Aj ten 父 [ay ten chichi]
'Aj ten' means 'Alas, that', '父' means 'father'. The whole thing, read in Japanese, sounds similar to an existing word, アイデンティティ[identity]. In Japanese, there is no exact translation of the word 'identity' – therefore, a English loanword is commonly used.
もの no trudno [mono no trudno]
もののあわれ [mono no awaré] is one of the key principles of Japanese aesthetics, describing a state of reflection on the transience of things and the cyclical nature of time. That reflection, tinted by a gentle sadness, signifies recognition and acceptance of the fact the essence of beauty lies in its impermanence. 'No trudno', in turn, means 'oh well' in Polish, and is a common colloquialism used to express slight, often ironic or humorous, disappointment.
記j w 憶 [key v oku]
記憶 [ki'oku], literally 'record-think', means 'memory'. 'Kij w oku' [key v oku], literally 'a stick in the eye', is a Polish idiom meaning a nuisance or annoyance.
Hito / Ningę / お側 [Osoba]
A play on 'fantasy' accent characters and the distortion introduced by transliteration. Poles use the English transliteration of Japanese words, even though Polish language often offers closer approximations. For example, the acute accents, used in Ć or Ś, are closer in sounds than their closest English sounds, 'CH' and 'SH'. In the same way, the Japanese word 人 [hito] – 'human' or 'person' – would sound better if we had a letter for it , an 'acute H'.
The transliteration of 人間 [ningen] – also 'human' – make the Ns sound too pronounced and heavy. The Japanese ん [ng], however, is a nasal sound, also present in Polish letters with an 'ogonek' accent, or Ą and Ę. If we had an 'I with ogonek', Poles would be able to say 'ningen' closer to the original.
'Osoba' is 'a person' in Polish. 側 [soba] though means ‘beside' or 'next to’. ‘o-’ is an exalted prefix, signifying respect. お側 [osoba] is an archaic word used to respectfully refer to the company (often servants) of a lord or aristocrat.
In the context of the two previous words, it could also be read as a reference to お前 [omae], one of the many ways of saying ‘you’, which literally means ‘honourable before me’. Historically used to refer to deities or aristocracy, over the centuries its meaning has reversed and today it's either used among friends or as a way to express condescension or anger.
愛 waj [Ai vai]
'Ai' means 'love' in Japanese. 'Aj waj' is the Polish equivalent of 'oy vey'.
You & mé
夢 [yumé] is a kanji (ideogram) for 'a dream'. Since it's a two-syllable word, inserting the '&' in the middle suggests splitting its pronunciation in two as well.
Roz-grzeb po-wód / 離式葬婚 [Rishiki sōkon]
A result of swapping last syllables of Polish words 'rozwód' [rozvud] – divorce – and 'pogrzeb' [pogzheb] – 'funeral'. 'Rozgrzeb' means 'excavate, dig up', 'powód' means 'the reason'.
Similar wordplay in Japanese – swapping second kanjis of 離婚 [rikon, divorce] and 葬式 [sōshiki, funeral] – results in confusing word salad (literally 'separation-ceremony-burial-marriage'). Its look and general sound, however, resembles that of Japanese idioms and proverbs, often written in exactly four kanjis ((四字熟語, yojijukugo), suggesting some profound meaning or wisdom.
Kogo kusi 孤独死 [kodokushi]
'Kogo kusi' means 'who's tempted by', 孤独死 [kodokushi] means 'dying alone'. A growing and alarming phenomenon in a rapidly aging population of Japan, there are more and more elderly Japanese who live alone and die without anyone knowing.
Teraz を照らす [o terasu]
'Teraz' means 'now', を is a particle indicating the subject of an action, 照らす means 'to illuminate'. Putting it all together, it could be translated as ‘illuminate the present’. In Japanese, unlike in English or Polish, ‘to illuminate’ does not include the meaning of 'clarifying' or 'understanding better'. It does however share the connotations of a change towards 'goodness': lightness, joy, divinity.
The form of the hanging tablets alludes to 絵馬 [éma], wooden plaques hung in Japanese temples on which worshippers write wishes (for oneself, loved ones or the world in general).
