16 mm, 7'
1981
The film is a recording of a for-camera performance. Its ‘protagonists’ are the artist’s fingers, their story told by an off-screen voice. A hand emerges from a dark background, gesturing with the different fingers; this is accompanied by the creator’s monologue consisting of intimate confessions narrated in the third-person mode. Scripted for the five fingers, the biography contains a humorous, self-mocking multiple self-portrait. The first version of this introspective film was made in 1981, when Robakowski formulated the concept of ‘one’s own cinema’. Following the introduction of martial law later that year and the artist’s withdrawal from the institutional art world, his no-budget, small-scale productions were shown at private screenings and on the alternative, underground circuit. About Fingers was first presented to the public as a live broadcast of a for-camera performance at the Osieki artists’ retreat in 1979.
Today I will tell you about my fingers. They were born on 20 February 1939 in Poznań and are 41 years old. Each of the fingers here has its own intimate life and its distinct character. For example:
A mighty one, a giant in action, the THUMB can make contact with any other finger if it wants to. All the others rely on it, want to cooperate with it, and yet it lives in reclusion. Perhaps . . . it is an old, time-weathered pro. It’s been wounded many times. I remember precisely how it got the first scar. It was six years old and just starting its primary-school education. Living at 36 Świętojańska Street in Gdynia, experiencing its wonderful childhood years. The drastic moment occurred unexpectedly, around 11 a.m. It fought fiercely to defend the honour of the whole organism. Struck hard by the adversary’s stick, it bled terribly. It was sick for about two weeks, nearly broken and massively swollen. Treated, it hardened, receiving the first scar with honour.
The next finger, the INDEX one, is for everything and everyone. Brain of the whole family. Most experienced, operative in direct contact, extremely mobile, and nimble like a cat; it can stand on its head at will. It also has its own history, as it has received more wounds than any other one, but has always been able to pull through. It served in the army in 1965. It was at that time that it learned, together with its neighbour, a certain rhythm that you probably know. They were usually accompanied by the song, ‘Shit the grandma did / Shit she did . . . ’
Except mobility and rhythm-beating, the MIDDLE one is good for nothing, because it’s dumb. It boasts about being the longest one, but the others laugh that it’s a nitwit, that it has the ugliest nail, that it hasn’t experienced anything interesting and it’s so unshapely. Even though it lives in the very middle, no one likes it.
The RING finger is a beauty. Pride of the community. Slender and so clean, smelling nice as if it were made for love. A symbol of love for the other fingers. It has put a ring on twice. That was, I guess, in 1966 and 1978. Perhaps I’ve got the first date wrong; my memory is failing me. It’s had few adventures, but it plays an important role in typewriting – it works really great, I admire its fluency.
And finally the PINKIE. Living its own life, almost redundant and unneeded, marginalised, and yet fabulous, playful and merry, able to interact with all the others, eager to pet and please. In fact, they all love each other, and when in danger, they close into a fist and then you better keep away from them.’
Józef Robakowski, Osieki, 1979
