A solo album of a member of the KSIĘŻYC group. Traditional otherwordly music from different regions ...

How is music in its personal, apparently lost time, when no one is listening to it here or performing it live, and if it is played, it’s a different "personality"? When its owner, creator, disappears with it forever as it was an organic part of him. To what extent is the form of this music that we have learned identical with its internal relations with the author? What happens if this form, at least in the sense of a whole that is readable to us, is lifted beyond attention and available with its shapelessness?

It happened in the first spring after Teodor was born, in the winter of May 2011. Yes, it was a short three-day May winter. I had a dream that I was calling Marian Bujak, an excellent traditional violinist from Szydłowiec. He had been dead for over five years then. And during his lifetime he liked and knew how to translate dreams. So I called him wherever he was and I said ~ Hello Mr. Marian? ~ I have received an answer from pecks of cosmic noise, gurgling in the handset and motor rhythm, and after a while I hear the characteristic Bujak whistle. And the fragment of the meeting that happened in 1999, during which Bujak plays his most beautiful mazurka for me, is repeated, or actually takes place again, and then states: ~ This is how the music looks like. ~ I recognize the mazur by the first sounds, but it seems to sound completely different. He keeps playing. Him and not him. And more and more not him. I get to know the music of Klejnas, Kędzierski, Metów, Jakubowski, Bździuchów, and then even songs from Kurpie, Kuyavia and Lublin. Bujak heard some at festivals, others on the radio, some he couldn't hear when he was alive.

This album is a sketch of traditional music, music that seems to have passed away, but comes again, only in the carnival masks of the upside down world. Field recordings of dreams, drawn to light in high compression. Nothing more. A kind of heaven. I did the first mixes on May 3, 2011, most of them were ready in that summer, which came right after the unexpected, extraordinary winter, and I finished the rest when the dream came back to reality, the kind of daydreaming during which you don't look out the window for a long time.