Offices [work in progress]
text : Klara Czerniewska-Andryszczyk
Nine photos published on Jędrzej Sokołowski's Instagram in October and November 2022, between intriguing portraits of so-called creatives and landscapes of the ‘New Warsaw’ (a.k.a. “blocks in the bush), triggered in me the urge to comment immediately. Myreaction was a response to the familiar realities depicted in the frames: two armchairs facing each other, separated by a table (or even a stool) on which the central position is occupied by a packet of economy-size tissues, which says it all (it turns out that the juxtaposition is not always accompanied by a dustbin, I wonder why). This quasi-homely feeling is added by modest details, set up as if in the scenery of a TV series: a small rug (far too small for ordinary home conditions, not to mention its ‘correct’ placement), a potted plant, a bookshelf, neutral-coloured curtains, something on the wall, usually with the emphasis on ‘something’. In places, on a wall or bookcase, a prominently visible clock or decorative alarm clock. The title of the series, “Gabinety” (“Practices”), quickly confirms the association. It is obvious. Anyone who has been there at least once knows. Straight away.
The “Practices” series thus depicts the interiors of private psychotherapy practices. Empty, as if prepared for a session (what a coincidence that the same term is used to describe the process of photographing a subject of interest and discussing a certain range of topics of concern to the client, aka patient, at a certain time). The question is, what has touched the photographer to document these generic spaces, or, as he puts it, “spaces to evoke relationships”? How does this series compare to Sokołowski’s other series? How does it resonate among the melancholic portraits and landscapes of Warsaw's new housing estates, intriguing with their (in)obviousness?
Perhaps the answer lies in the notion of (dis)comfort. In tension, so precisely: in a relationship? – between the familiar (home) and the unfamiliar (‘professional’, office-like). And also between what we know about ourselves, and what is yet to be discovered on the proverbial couch, seen in just one of the published photographs.
Despite their laconic nature, Sokołowski’s photographs gave me a peculiar thrill of excitement. Ultimately, when choosing a psychologist’s practice, we are unlikely to be guided first by its appearance (although this may keep us there for longer, and may even change our own habits and tastes). We’re more likely to look online for opinions on selected specialists and currents, we follow discussions on forums about particular ailments and pains, or we talk to friends and follow their recommendations. The meeting space therefore appears to be secondary, a product of other prerogatives.
The websites of practices and psychological support centres rarely publish photos of their interiors. Much more often, on the other hand, do they provide portraits and detailed descriptions of their team. Professional experience, specialisation, opening hours, price list: these are things that a potential client or patient is sure to pay attention to, and that any UX designer would probably pick up on and consider important to detail on the website (of course, the first contact with the practice, via the website, may condition the later perception of the space itself through the colours used, the quality of the visual layer, the prices quoted conditioning access for a clientèle from a specific social stratum, etc.). By publishing photographs of just the interiors, Sokołowski, in a way, contributes to the lowering of this invisible veil and thus the removal of taboos from this space in which a séance of assisted self-discovery (maturing?) is played out. At the same time, however, his photographs do not fulfil an informative or advertising function – they were not created to order for any of the practices and are not accompanied by captions beyond the laconic “From the <> series: and relevant hashtags. Sokołowski thus provides the impetus for the emergence of a new, previously unseen typology, ready to be analysed (sic!) from the positions of anthropology, sociology, or cultural and art studies.
“When decorating a psychotherapy practice, you will need to know how to make sure it: is visually pleasing, has the right tranquillity (giving a sense of intimacy and discretion), creates the impression of an ‘enveloping’ and close place, supports building the analyst's position as a helpful expert, and evokes positive associations”, according to the first article responding to the phrase ‘psychotherapy practice design’ (https://mindness.pl/gabinet-terapeutyczny-wyposazenie-i-wystroj/). The most important attributes of practice interiors are therefore to be cosiness, necessary to create a sense of security and trust, and professionalism, influencing the perception of the therapist and their “personal brand”. These assumptions are quite mutually exclusive, aren’t they? So how do you balance them?
I can't help feeling that Sokołowski deliberately chooses anti-examples of how not to furnish these rooms. The cold, stiflingly empty interiors respond to the aspect of ‘professionalism’ rather than comfort. Details such as air-conditioning units, artificial curtains or long out-of-fashion verticals add a touch of office feeling. Looking at the seats: dark, upholstered in faux leather or red fabric, too deep and low-backed, I involuntarily become limp and stiff, my neck starts to hurt, and I fidget nervously, sitting down on one buttock and wrapping one leg around the other. It turns out that the “timeless” language of modernity, early modern shapes from the sketchbooks of Le Corbusier or Eileen Gray, is incompatible with seemingly primal needs for comfort and the aforementioned enveloping. So a classic wing chair with 17th-century origins comes to the rescue: the deep and tall STRANDMON, which wraps tightly around the head and is available at IKEA from PLN 899. Too expensive? So, let’s settle on a Pello or Poang rocker, starting from PLN 269 apiece. It will certainly work well in practices hosting hyperactive people. In general, unlike the profession itself, which requires years of practice, specialisation, own therapy and supervision, preparing a practice space does not seem too time-consuming. One visit to a large furniture shop is all it takes. Budget? As little as PLN 700. Enough for two Poang armchairs, a Terje chair (twice as expensive as a Lack table, but acting as a table), a rug, a pendant lamp with a lampshade, some plants and... #tissues.