Lublin. Fascinating luxury hub

Mateusz Zmyślony

19 of May '23

Lublin is a pearl that deserves the world's attention

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Article from A&B issue 04|2023

Lublin just couldn't wait. It had been calling to me from afar and for a long time. My senses, sharpened in the urban sense, picked up a strangely strong and steady signal from its direction. It broadcast something like a short radio message: „come and I will amaze you”.

I happened to be in Lublin several times. I remember, as if through a fog, Lublin from the early 1990s. It was a terrible city, as, by the way, were all Polish centers ground by communism, war and earlier experiences. Because yes: our cities had their glory days from the Middle Ages to the early 18th century. After that it was really very, very bad. Many of those historic cities disappeared or shrunk to the size of villages. The next three hundred years were a terrible steamroller of history, which devastated a multitude of urban centers, such as Slawkow, Olkusz, Lelów and Biecz—first-class cities in the Middle Ages.

Lublin was, in a sense, the capital of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in its best days

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

In those days, Europe ended somewhere around Sandomierz. Here lay the border, beyond which there was only a great wilderness. The wilderness, of course, was not completely empty, but a high-quality European civilization represented by universities, printing houses, mints and wider industry reached Sandomierz. It was a densely populated space, like other thriving centers of civilization in the 15th-16th centuries, such as Bohemia, the Rhineland, the Netherlands and northern Italy.

portrait of Lublin by Wojciech Pacewicz

photo: Wojciech Pacewicz

After that, it was getting kind of more intimate. That's how it is to this day—beyond the border of historic Malopolska, the number of villages, towns and cities is rapidly decreasing. The old road—a branch of the famous pan-European Via Regia—leading from Krakow through Sandomierz and Zawichost to Lublin—was of strategic importance in those days. In Lublin, this branch connected with... (here I deliberately cut off the thread)—well, that's where my discovery of the Lublin I didn't know began. But I suspected he was there. The great forgotten one.

Let's go back to the Lublin of the late 1990s—gray, drab, dirty, like everything after that unfortunate commune. On top of that, it was still somehow off the radar, cast somewhere disorderly to the side, away from the mainstream of events. It wasn't really clear why one should go this way at all.

Carnaval of the Artificers—the artificer arises from something and is doing well

Photo: Jacek Scherer

But I did go. I've been a few times on business, in Lubella. To advertise macarons, Lubelskie. There was never an opportunity to go out on the town, so I didn't see it. After all, returning to Krakow by car was some kind of gehenna, there was no time to walk. So, all in all, I knew nothing about this Lublin, except for a few scenes from „Four Armored,” a story with the Union of Lublin and a long-read book by Isaac Singer, "The Magician of Lublin."

Then I finally had the opportunity to take something of value from this Lublin. I was invited to Lublin's Night of Culture, which I had heard was good. I distinctly remember that day and that night. It was about ten years ago. I was to show a presentation of the 2012 GloBall project as part of the Culture Night program. At the time, my buddies and I drove all over Africa, in five off-road cars, along the way, playing ball with kids and handing out a thousand specially made footballs. What a stunt it was, one of the best of my life: to this day one of the biggest ever Polish trans-African expeditions, during which we invented the now popular worldwide phenomenon of social travel. Did you know that it was a Polish idea?

Carnaval of the Artificers—an artificer results from something and is doing well

Photo: Jacek Scherer

We were nominated in the Travel of the Year category for the National Geographic Traveller award. Well, and it was with this—rather cosmic—story that I came to Lublin at the time, because the Culture Night revolved programmatically around UEFA Euro 2012, and our soccer trip was part of all the fuss as part of the European Stadium of Culture.

I remember crossing the Krakow Gate for the first time in my life and peering into the backstreets of the Old Town on a stone hill. I remember being swept off the board then. Around every corner something magical was happening. At every gate there was some happening going on, at every step some trickster was showing off. I had my presentation on a big screen in the square after the Fara, among the foundations of the demolished St. Michael's Church. A warm summer night, hundreds of artists from all over the world, thousands of spectators, and all in the thick of magic and some kind of completely incomprehensible to me at the time, but powerful atmosphere. I was enchanted by that Lublin, enchanted.

Square Po Farze—this is where I had my Lublin presentation;

photo: Mateusz Zmyślony

It took ten years for me to finally go back to understand what happened then. So to the point: Lublin rules. And period. For the first time in my life I had time for this city. I set up camp at the Zemborzycki Reservoir and the next morning I rushed merrily on my bike—my soul felt that it would be a great meeting, I was sure of it, despite the miserable time of year (January).

As I climbed uphill, pedaling ever more content with the support of the „electric”, I thought to myself, „look man, what a hill.” This is a significant first observation. And then, when I reached the Krakow Gate, there was a rapid bombardment of the senses. A magnificent old city. Genius loci, the soul of the place, powerful, like in Krakow's Kazimierz or Wawel Castle. Suspiciously too massive and high fortifications. Too many churches, too dense. Definitely too rich for a provincial city, townhouses. "Something doesn't feel right here."—such a thought echoed in my head.

Castle

Photo: Mateusz Zmyślony

Well, but that's what my job is all about: finding a surprising multi-town and figuring it out, discovering its biggest secret to understand its entelechy, original personality and purpose. Wandering through all the streets, I sucked in the atmosphere of this Lublin, amazing, maturingly authentic. When I arrived at the Grodzka Gate, I already knew that from the perspective of a history detective, I was dealing with a chakra, some magical place where several unusual circumstances that made this city met. They created a place that was absolutely unique, extremely important.

I didn't yet know what it should be specifically. I had a hypothesis, but I needed evidence. To that end, I circled the historic center several times. Not that I liked everything about it. All around was a normal Polish city, with apartment blocks, industrial spaces, nothing special.

powerful fortifications

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

But it's the Old Town, brrrr, but so strong. Well, and some kind of anomalous. I had to find out why. I did a long-distance reconnaissance along Krakowskie Przedmieście Street, noting another surprising phenomena: a great art installation PORTAL, through which residents of Vilnius and Lublin can wave to each other live. Capital.

An art master from Lublin in action

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

I keep discovering: delicious architecture, not only old, like the Grand Hotel in the building of the former Loan Fund of Lublin Industrialists from 1900 (design: Gustaw Landau), but also the surprising Meeting of Cultures Center (design: Stelmach and Partners Architectural Office). I have to write more about this building, because it's quite a story. Well, it was started to be built in the 1970s. With ambitions to create one of the largest opera stages in Europe, for a thousand seats. The ambitions were official, signed by the PZPR. The lump was to be huge, to overshadow the nearby Catholic University of Lublin. Construction began, but a crisis came and work was halted. The virtually bare walls stood alone. And so it stayed for many years: residents began to call the building „Theater under Construction.” Throughout the 1990s, something was tinkering on the square—it was Lublin's symbol of construction impotence, similar to Krakow's „Szkieletor.” The breakthrough came in 2009: the Stelmach and Partners studio won an international design competition, and the construction of the Meeting of Cultures Center (CSK), which is being carried out on a grand scale, began.

"A typical Lublin backyard".—any questions?

Photo: Mateusz Zmyślony

In 2015 the whole thing was ready. It's worth seeing with your own eyes, preferably in spring, when a huge flower garden blooms on the roof. Boleslaw Stelmach's design is impressive, I liked most the preservation of those original walls made of old brick inside—in this building that „Theater under Construction” is still alive. Boleslaw Stelmach is, by the way, a person of exceptional influence on the quality of the local public space—the award-winning architect is sometimes described as a „virtuoso of concrete and glass,” and his distinctive projects creatively complement the older fabric of the city.

Lublin has everything: including great water—this is Zemborzycki Reservoir

Photo: Mateusz Zmyślony

The CSK looks so dope that when Netflix was filming the series „1983,” it chose the building for the lead role (in the sense of roles played by buildings). It was here that Robert Więckiewicz had his office. The CSK, by the way, is not the only architectural development in Lublin—just next door rises the very successful (in my opinion, especially in the interior) Lublin Conference Center, designed by the Project PBPA studio. Contemporary design is also doing well here.

PORTAL: Vilnius waves to Lublin, Lublin waves to Vilnius

photo: Mateusz Zmyślony

But I have to go back to the heart of genius loci, something pulls me there strongly, I have to verify my hypothesis and answer the question „why?”.
Now let's look at the network of major medieval trade routes. From distant Santiago de Compostela, the Via Regia traverses the entire continent, finally reaching Kiev and Moscow. Along the way it has several branches, the most important crossroads of Europe in Leipzig, a fork in Breslau. From there, two independent strands of the route lead to... Lublin. And here note—an anomaly—as many as six strands of the route converge in Lublin! This is the only such case on the continent. This was my aborted „connects to...”.

Meeting of Cultures Center, Lublin Conference Center in the background

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

Until the 14th century, Lublin was a rather peripheral city, although it already had a long history. This was due to the defensive qualities of the local limestone hills. Since ancient times, people lived here, more and more fortifications were built. On one hill there was a castle, on the other a town grew slowly, with a rather modest appearance at the time and with a rather timid fortification.

And then came the big BOOOM!

A close-up of the Lublin Conference Center

photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

Poland merged with Lithuania. Lublin stopped lying on the periphery of the state, and found itself in the middle—between Krakow and Vilnius. Ladislaus Jagiello loved the city. Powerful investments were launched. That's why the most important building from the Jagiellonian era became the Crown Main Tribunal building, which still stands in the Market Square (originally—the building of Lublin's City Hall). Yes, in those days from all over the huge state it was here that the mighty descended to assert their rights. And it was big business.

Penetrating Lublin, studying the space, however, I noticed an anomaly, similar to the one caught earlier in Poznan [cf. A&B 2/2023]. Something too big these tenements, walls, towers. Beyond the size of this Lublin, even in its Golden Age. To track down this disturbing component of genius loci and learn as much as I could about the city, I made an appointment at the Tourist Inspiration Center. The staff turned out to be great conversationalists, passionate about the city and experts on the subject—it was not wasted time. At this point I would like to thank those who put up with me the longest, they were Krzysztof Raganowicz from the aforementioned Tourist Inspiration Center and Janusz Waszkiewicz from the Grodzka Gate—NN Theater Center. Gentlemen, these were great conversations.

The former Via Regia branches have been replaced by the modern roads S17, S19 and S12; and when S12 reaches Kiev, Lublin will return to its former role on the map

photo: Tomasz Łuszczak

After those, I already knew I was close. I smelled blood as I descended into Lublin's underground. Powerful underground warehouses, carved into the rock on which the city stands, total three vast floors, each five meters high. Because the rock under the city is perforated like Swiss cheese, resulting in a huge, secure storage space, defended by a thick rock and a fortress crowning it.

Lublin is back in shape as it was during the Golden Age; infrastructure and economy are developing rapidly

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

Yes, now we can connect the dots. The largest intersection on the Via Regia + a rock with warehouses and a fortress. Let's take another look at where the road led towards Lviv. Because, after all, it could not end there, only its status as the Via Regia, the imperial road, ended there. It went on, of course, not at all as a less important trade route—through Chocim and Kamieniec Podolski, somewhere beyond the limits of my knowledge and imagination. It meandered along the Dniester, along the Moldavian Hospodar, all the way to the mouth of the river. And there it was waiting for me: a surprise.

Lublin is back in shape, as it was in the days of the Golden Age; the infrastructure and economy are developing rapidly

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

It was called Moncastro in those days. It was a powerful, fortified Genoese port. Today it is called Belgorod on the Dniester and lies within the borders of Ukraine. What a city it is! Six hundred years BC it already stood there: as Tyras, a Greek colony of Miletus. Later it was still a frontier fortress of the Roman Empire, from the white walls of the fortress—sensationally still standing in good condition today—Belgorod, Cetatea Albă, Lefkopolis. We know them by hearsay as Akerman. The one from Mickiewicz's „Akerman Steppes.” After all, this is where the Levantine trade went to Europe, a stream of the most expensive and desirable goods from Asia flowed here: ships delivered pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, precious stones, feathers—and further all this went to Lublin. In the other direction, sable furs from the east and red cloth from Bruges traveled from Lublin to Moncastro. From Kiev, cargoes of silk and Chinese porcelain arrived in Lublin from China via the old Radanite road. All light, luxurious, unimaginably expensive.

Lublin is back in shape as it was in the Golden Age; infrastructure and economy are developing rapidly

Photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

Back to Lublin: the intercontinental intersection of land routes means the need for a secure logistics center. So at this point we discover a magical world parallel to the one we know from the history of the Hanseatic League. Dear all, the Hanseatic League was not alone. It ruled—but only over trade in bulk goods. It was a wholesaler of grain, copper, salt, construction timber, tar and potash. Everything heavy flowed to Gdansk. But everything light and expensive went by another route—overland. This one was mastered mainly by the Radanites, i.e. Polish Jews, although they were not the only merchants, there were also Poles, Armenians and Dutch competing with them. Lublin was among the world's largest centers of trade in luxury goods.

A map showing the medieval trade routes Via Imperii (red) and Via Regia (maroon)

This explains everything: the scale of the buildings and ramparts, the intersection of trails set next to a loess mountain that became an ultra-secure sesame where precious trade could be managed without nerves. This is why an extremely important Jewish city grew up between the city and the castle, with the world's most important Jewish universities. And hence the powerful anomaly, the incredible genius loci. It's a city whose identity—in addition to what I discovered—is also built by Pearl beer, iconic speedway races, universities, onion soup, Carnaval Sztukmistrzów, Culture Night and a million other ingredients of this phenomenal Lublin personality. It's a good idea to start with a visit to the Tourist Inspiration Center—that's what it was created for—to properly orient anyone inspired by Lublin. Most likely, the first to be recommended is the exhibition at the Grodzka Gate—NN Theater, which will tell you the amazing story of a Jewish city that disappeared.

Is it an anomaly?—something too big these tenements, walls, towers... beyond the size of this Lublin, even in its Golden Age

photo: Marcin Tarkowski—Piximo

And I'll just end by adding that we really have no idea what the historical space looked like there. That is why I am conducting my historical investigation.