In search of an invisible (?) community
Part II: Building trust through analog photography
Mariami Giunashvili (Mzesu) approaches her projects with a remarkable sensitivity shaped long before she ever picked up a camera. Her way of seeing the world emerged from her own biography, particularly from witnessing her grandfather’s illness as his memory slowly faded. From that experience onwards, photography became a tool for capturing what is fleeting. Her studies in psychology further deepened her artistic intuition, strengthening her focus on storytelling grounded in relationship-building, attentiveness and care. Mariami is interested in activist photography, in people, and in the dynamics of living between cultures that intertwine despite visible differences.
One of the key elements of her practice, already evident in her earlier work, is her desire to amplify the voices of those who are often overlooked or remain in the shadow of dominant narratives. This impulse began years ago in the nightlife of Tbilisi, where Mzesu works as a bartender and intuitively started documenting moments of honesty, emotional openness and self-expression. It was there that she first realised photography could serve as a tool for empowerment, giving visibility to stories that are usually left untold.
Her residency in Wrocław offered an opportunity to develop a project focused on the Korean community living in the city and its surroundings. Mzesu proposed a collaborative process based on co-creation and mutual exchange. Korean participants, along with Poles interested in Korean culture, were given disposable Kodak cameras and a simple instruction: to document their everyday lives over time. The photographs were intended to capture ordinary moments – commuting to work, meetings, travel, shopping, family life, home interiors and business spaces. The artist sought authenticity and sincerity, allowing the material to be created from the perspective of those who form an often invisible community within the city.
Unexpectedly, the project expanded in new directions. One participant, Nikola, who works at the Korean cosmetics shop Aura3AM, travelled to Korea for the first time in her life. Another example was the owner of the Korean bakery Girumi, who shared photographs from her recent trip to Korea. Through these contributions, the project moved beyond documenting the life of the Korean community in Wrocław and opened up a dialogue between two everyday realities: Wrocław and Seoul.
The photographs collected from participants became the basis for creating albums, which community members decorated individually during workshops held at the Wrocław Institute of Culture. Each book unfolds slowly as an intimate narrative of daily life. At the same time, the albums reveal subtle nuances of the migrant experience: states of in-betweenness, moments of suspension between the home left behind and the new one being built.
In this context, the contribution of the project’s co-curator, Sangmin Cha, proved particularly significant. A Korean curator who has lived for several years in the United Kingdom, she encountered people facing challenges similar to her own. This shared experience added an important layer of exchange and understanding to the process, benefiting both the artists and the curatorial framework.
It is worth noting that the Korean community in Wrocław is among the fastest-growing migrant groups in the region. It is estimated that several thousand people of Korean origin live in the city and nearby areas, many of them families connected to large companies operating in Lower Silesia, such as LG Solutions. This growing presence is visible in the increasing number of Korean restaurants and shops run by people who have chosen to settle in Poland. In the cultural landscape, events dedicated to the Korean community have also begun to appear, including the Kimchi Festival held at Wrocław Airport. Despite this, the community remains relatively invisible within the broader spectrum of cultural activities in the city. Mzesu’s project became an act of restoring that visibility – a tangible gesture aimed at bringing the two cultures closer together.
The outcome of the residency is a zine that will serve as a summary of the entire process. Rather than functioning as a purely documentary publication, it will take the form of a small-edition artist’s book intended to support future Polish–Korean dialogue. Mariami Giunashvili’s residency demonstrates how photography can connect people who might otherwise never meet, inviting them to participate actively in a shared artistic process.
Within this context, the residency in Wrocław offered the artist an opportunity to tell this story. The project developed alongside Marina Pietrocola not only enabled her to enter the everyday reality of the Korean diaspora, but also opened a space for building relationships that had previously been absent in the city. One participant admitted that no one in Poland had ever approached her with a proposal for artistic collaboration before, highlighting significant cultural barriers stemming both from the hierarchical structure of Korean society and from language limitations – many Koreans living in Poland speak only Korean and basic English.
The research and artistic work carried out by both artists does not end with a single residency cycle. Instead, it marks the beginning of a broader narrative of Polish–Korean collaboration in Wrocław. Thanks to the trust, experience and mutual understanding developed throughout the project, this process will continue to grow with the support of local partners, including the Lower Silesian Public Library, participating local businesses and the academic expertise of the University of Wrocław.
Artist: Mariami Giunashvili
Curators: Paulina Brelińska-Garsztka, Sangmin Cha
Partners: Lower Silesian Public Library; Szymon Maraszewski; Martyna Wyleciał (Azjatycka Półka); Marta Niewiadomska (Pani od koreańskiego); Oseyo25; Bingsu House; Aura3AM; ManiToGo; Seoul97 Cafe; Darea; Fathers’ Kitchen; Ottugi – Asian Food; Girumi Bakery; U&I Mart; Secret Garden.
Curatorial text by Paulina Brelińska-Garsztka