Anna Zarucka

TIFA 2025 Interview with Anna Zarucka
1st Place winner in Analog / Film, Non-Professional, “Body Garden”

Can you introduce yourself and share a bit about your background in photography?

I was born in 1982 in Poland, in a family deeply rooted in traditional values. These were times in which pragmatism was considered the only proper path, and any artistic expression was suppressed not only at home, but also at school. My first artistic steps, vivid imagination, everyday creativity, or desire to verbalize emotions were usually dismissed, and I believe I was not an exception back then.

From an early age, we were taught to live sensibly and practically. The priority was to learn effectively according to the school curriculum, in such a way that the knowledge acquired would be useful and result in a profession that would benefit us in the future. Strictly artistic classes, such as drawing or music, also failed to ignite our creative potential, and any attempt to go beyond the established patterns was treated as something of little value.

I think those were times focused almost entirely on survival, dictated mainly by the need to adapt. What we carried inside as sensitive beings, what we carefully hid from the world, had no significance then. All of this created many difficulties, especially for a girl with innate shyness and uncertainty on an artistic path, yet determined to stay on it.

Despite this, I managed in my own way, casting spells on the gray reality around me and engaging with art in every possible form available at the time. Ironically, my childhood desire to color the world has transformed, in my adult life, into a monochromatic journey that I continue to follow today.

I have always been fascinated by ancient art and painting; I looked to them for a space in which the image as a symbolic language would help me build identity and better understand my emotions and needs. The directions of my studies were therefore no coincidence, they satisfied my urge for self-discovery and firmly grounded me in my choices.

I did not understand from the beginning that it would be photography, perhaps because it had been present in my family for as long as I can remember and served purely practical rather than artistic purposes. Since, inadvertently, I already had a broad exposure to it, I focused on the values that defined me more at that time.
Since childhood I had a “light hand” for writing and used written language with ease, so in 2009 I began further studies at the Faculty of Journalism, culminating in a diploma in press photography. It not only rekindled my love for photography but also clarified precisely which photographic path I did not want to follow.

I sometimes joke that I have a diploma in the field of art that fulfills the expectations of others. Press photography, however valuable and necessary, tells the stories of other people, completely overlooking my own. And yet we are the ones behind the camera; we decide what we see and how we see it.

I believe that all the deficits I experienced as a child are fully reflected in the themes and emotions I wish to share through photography. Without them, I would not have this powerful need to create, nor the determination to fulfill myself through this medium.

Yes, it was a harsh lesson, but with time I have come to see how much I gained from it. I am deeply grateful for it and would never exchange it for any other.
I believe that a plant cannot grow and bloom without strong, grounded roots, this holds true despite all hardships.

How did this project begin, and what drew you to explore the body through this metaphor of cultivation and growth?

Body Garden is a garden of tenderness that grows with me. It was born in my mind long ago, and it is a continuous process, built upon a very intimate relationship rooted in care and respect for my own organism—my body as the temple of the soul.
It is a metaphorical space for me: fragments of feelings, dreams, and visions which, through intimate shapes, allow me to get closer to understanding the wisdom of the body and, through it, to reach energetic balance.

My interests have always revolved around painting, ancient rituals, and attentiveness toward the body as a form, structure, and shape, which I believe to be an extraordinary trace of our existence. I have always interpreted art metaphorically, symbolically, poetically—therefore I cannot imagine my photographs not being carriers of emotions that align with this perspective.

Cultivating art through the body is, for me, the most nurturing form of tending to myself, valuing my senses, and developing my emotional needs. It is the practice of cultivating and caring for one’s inner garden.

You work exclusively with analog tools and traditional black-and-white film. How does shooting on film shape the pace, intimacy, and emotional depth of this series?

Analog photography is, for me, the art of authenticity—a return to the roots and one of the most fascinating journeys inward, incomparable to anything else. It is a deep relationship with the image, which is tangible and filtered through our imagination.
Above all, it is a creative process that is highly conscious, shaping the photographer’s aesthetic but also building their sense of agency. If I had to define in one sentence what analog photography means to me, I would describe it as a long-awaited process, suspended in time, immortal—its choice is in my nature.

My photographs are always multi-layered; behind every frame stands myself and everything that speaks about me. Sometimes the images touch emotions that are difficult to express, which is why choosing the right tools is important to me—tools that strengthen the expressive power but remain soothing to the senses and quiet.
I cannot express myself through colors—they distract, they shout. Black-and-white film is, for me, a cultivation of silence—its celebration and the source of everything that shapes my work, both the photographic and the personal.

I like to see this project as a Secret Garden, full of therapeutic calm, healing, gentleness, and harmony.

What does winning at the Tokyo International Foto Awards mean to you personally and professionally?

Winning is, for me, the fulfillment of dreams—an unexpected joy that is difficult to fully grasp. I feel deeply honored that the jury from so many corners of the world looked deeper and appreciated the creativity and commitment I put into my work. I am extremely grateful and moved; it is the greatest recognition of all my effort.
Body Garden has only timidly begun to come into the light during the past year. I dare not have lofty expectations, but I will be very happy if my photographs reach a wider audience, because it is the reception that validates the micro-worlds of every artist.

It is not only a driving force for even more intensive work but also a profound satisfaction and a sense of fulfilling my photographic mission. I thank you with all my heart for this opportunity.

Looking back at Body Garden now, how do you see it fitting within your broader practice as an anthropologist, storyteller, and photographer?

Every time I feel the need to look back at my project, I think that now I would be able to do it better. This is my innate self-criticism, but also the result of years of learning that my creative process—along with self-acceptance and self-discovery—is always influenced by certain ingrained patterns.

Of course, all experiences associated with my work as a press journalist have an impact on my artistic endeavors, but I try to keep that influence indirect. This means that these valuable experiences help me, shape my cognitive skills and my stance toward reality, but they do not directly affect the degree of my sensitivity, imagination, or my perception of art. They also do not dominate the creative process itself—only then do I feel a sense of true freedom.

I strive to be authentic in what I do, without the pressure of creating for a specific press title. This comes not only from my own experience but also from my observations—especially of the younger generation of artists who, consciously and under pressure, pursue photography for measurable gains, creating merely for advertising or brand collaborations on social media.

The media world is overwhelming in this context; in my view, its excessive pace, varying interpretations of quality, and pursuit of an unattainable ideal do not align with the analog aesthetic of imperfection, which I value deeply.

Moreover, I believe that analog photography—despite its current renaissance—remains a niche, hermetically sealed form of art, particularly resistant to commercialization, even amid the current wave of vintage trends.

Winning in the analog/film category is, for me, not only an honor but also a unique sense of responsibility for how this type of photography is and will be perceived in the future.

The lack of artistic freedom and the submission to commercial trends represent a media structure within which my expressive language simply does not fit. I choose—and naturally need—analog photography, which, in my view, forms the core of my artistic fulfillment.

I deeply believe that through photography I still have much to say—not only to others, but also to myself.