The summary meeting took place online on April 14, 2026. Participants included Amini Suwedi – Film Club Coordinator and Elizabeth Lizana Kafwa – Gallery Coordinator representing Nafasi Art Space, as well as artists: Michalina Musielak, Lindi Dedek; and Małgorzata Miśniakiewicz – curator, and Karolina Bieniek – project coordinator from Art Transparent. Due to personal reasons, Jan Moss was unable to attend the meeting. The discussion focused on experiences related to the project’s implementation, working within an intercultural context, and the reception of the exhibition by local audiences.
Due to the insufficient quality of the recording, we decided to prepare a transcription and editorial version of the conversation in order to more fully capture the themes and reflections shared by the participants. Edited by Karol Waniek.
Deconfining, Nafasi Art Space, 2026
Karolina Bieniek: It’s a pleasure to have you here. As the DECONFINING project draws to a close, we wanted to reflect on the past years – on the process, the results, and what we’ve learned. We’d love to hear how you see the project and what insights it offers for the future.
Amini Suwedi: Thank you, and good afternoon from Frankfurt. I’m here with Lizanna from Nafasi Art Space – we collaborated on presenting the DECONFINING exhibition. Today, we’d like to reflect on that experience: how we engaged with the project, how audiences responded, and what it meant overall. But first, I’ll let Lizanna introduce herself – she played a key role in making the exhibition happen.
Lizana Kafwa: Thank you. I manage the gallery at Nafasi Art Space. DECONFINING was quite a new experience for us – we’re used to more traditional media, so working with screenings and installations was a shift. But engaging with the artists’ materials – films and documentaries – was eye-opening. It challenged my curatorial perspective and showed how important it is to create space for artists to explore more freely and from different viewpoints.
Amini: As a filmmaker, I’m curious: why film? Artists could have worked in many media – painting, photography, sculpture. What made film the right choice for DECONFINING? And how did that constraint shape your storytelling?
Małgorzata Miśniakiewicz: There were several reasons. Film made it easier to work across continents, especially with mobility and research residencies involved. It also allowed for a broad range of practices – from archival work to documentation and more experimental forms. And, admittedly, video art is my primary interest. One important lesson, though, was realising that video art is far less common in Tanzania than in East Central Europe, which we only discovered through the project.
Amini: Michalina, how did working with film shape your storytelling? Did it challenge you in any way?
Michalina Musielak: I share Małgorzata’s enthusiasm for video – I mainly work in that medium, so I was glad to use it here, especially with archival material, which was very important to my project. At the same time, I was working with architecture, so space and exhibition context mattered a lot. I had hoped to develop more site-specific elements, which wasn’t fully possible during installation in Dar es Salaam. Still, I was very happy with the final exhibition. The way it was arranged – even details like the bricks supporting the monitors – resonated strongly with my work. My project traced architectural sites from the late 1980s in Tanzania, so combining archival research with new footage and then presenting it locally felt meaningful. It allowed the audience to engage with the material from their own perspective, rather than seeing it through a purely external lens.
Amini: And you, Lindi?
Lindi Dedek: I was lucky the open call focused on video – otherwise I might not be here. I mostly work with time-based media, and I think film was particularly suited to this project. It allowed us to explore connections between cultures that aren’t always visible in everyday discourse, and to think about how such exchanges might look today, beyond their historical context. The audiovisual form is powerful in that sense – it creates an immersive experience. You can see and hear different environments and begin to grasp connections without having lived them. My approach was quite intuitive. In Tanzania, I worked in a documentary mode, without a fixed concept – I met people, recorded conversations, and let the material shape the film. In Poland, the process was different, more structured. What was crucial was time. Although the residencies were short, we had over a year to develop the work. That distance allowed for reflection and reworking. Film also made our presence visible – we appear as outsiders, as participants in the process. I think that transparency is important for the audience, to understand that these works emerge from encounters in a different context.
Amini: You’ve both touched on culture and working across contexts. In recent years, there’s been a lot of discussion about telling stories as an outsider. How did you approach this – ensuring dignity, consent, and authenticity? And how did this intercultural exchange shape you as storytellers?
Lindi: It’s a crucial question, and one that was central to the project. Whenever you work in a context that isn’t your own – whether in film, research, or any documentary form – you’re confronted with issues of authorship and appropriation. Who has the right to tell a story, and how? There’s no simple answer. Power imbalances and structural inequalities are always present, and you can’t fully resolve them. What you can do is remain aware, ask questions, involve collaborators, ensure transparency, and give something back. For me, that meant working closely with a Tanzanian team, staying in dialogue during editing, and thinking about how the work might return to the people and contexts it draws from. Ultimately, it’s about respect – avoiding exoticisation and approaching people and their stories with care. Even then, you won’t get everything right, but that reflection has to be part of the process.
Michalina: My background in visual anthropology makes me especially attentive to these questions. In this project, they were layered with complex historical and political contexts – global socialism, postcolonial relations, and the role of Eastern Europe within them. The story I worked on, about housing built for South African refugees in Tanzania, already carried multiple power dynamics. Entering such a context is not straightforward, especially within a short timeframe. Anthropologically speaking, it’s difficult to build meaningful, balanced relationships in that span. So self-reflection becomes essential. My project shifted significantly in that direction – it became as much about my position as an outsider as about the subject itself. To address this, I introduced a second perspective: alongside my own voice, I included that of a Tanzanian architect, Esther Mbibo, based in Leipzig (formerly East Germany). Her account offered another form of “outsider” experience, creating a more balanced narrative. It was a way of acknowledging difference while opening the work to multiple viewpoints.
Michalina Musielak, With Socialist Greetings | Mit Sozialistischem GruB, presented on 23. SURVIVAL Art Review, photo by Małgorzata Kujda
Amini: We often assume the storyteller holds power over the subject. But what if we reverse that – what if the stories themselves shape the storyteller? How did the stories you encountered influence your process or force you to rethink your approach?
Michalina: For me, the experience was quite brief – a kind of “dive in, dive out” – so I wouldn’t say the stories fundamentally reshaped my perspective. I arrived with a certain framework and expectations. What proved most transformative, however, was my collaboration with Joe-Francis Kiaga, who was essential to the project. He was not only a cameraman, but also a facilitator who made the project possible. That relationship shaped the work. far more than the stories themselves. At the same time, it made me aware of the limits of my position – I was on the “bridge,” but not fully able to cross it.
Amini: And how was it, being on that “bridge”?
Michalina: It highlighted the conditions of access – who you meet, under what circumstances, and through whom. Joe’s background, his education and language skills, shaped those encounters. It brought me back again to questions of power and limitation, but also to the complexity of telling a story from an Eastern European perspective.
Lindi: My experience was quite different. I worked more through immersion, without a fixed concept, and allowed the stories to guide the project. I met people from very different backgrounds, often with the help of local collaborators from Nafasi Art Space, such as but not limited to my assistant director Rhoda Kambenga (now Sensory Swahili), who helped facilitate these encounters. In that sense, the stories really did shape the work. I initially planned something else, but through conversations and chance encounters, the project shifted – eventually centring on trees and their cultural and ecological meanings. That shift came directly from what people shared with me. So while I had a general framework – thinking about ecology, art, and postcolonial perspectives – the material itself led the way. It continues to shape how I think, especially in terms of a more-than-human perspective. The project has also had a life beyond the exhibition – both films have been individual shown at international film festivals and even received recognition, which extends that dialogue further.
Amini: You mentioned immersion – did questions of colonialism and art emerge from the people you worked with, particularly in Tanzania?
Lindi: Very much so – though not always in explicit terms. In conversations, especially with figures like the family of Origones Uiso, a major collector and director of the Karibu Gallery, colonial histories surfaced through personal experience. His life spans the period around Tanzanian independence. His relationships with both Makonde sculptors and European art buyers reflect those shifts. At the same time, issues of power and inequality came up constantly. Even someone like Origenes spoke having encountered prejudice and suspicion when dealing with European institutions. The carvers I worked with talked about economic pressures – many can no longer sustain their practice. Their work reflects values like community and unity, but it’s also shaped by global markets and changing conditions. So colonialism, racism, and economic imbalance were always present – sometimes indirectly, embedded in lived experience rather than framed as theory.
Amini: Thank you. Lizanna, perhaps you could share your perspective from the exhibition side?
Lizana: Thank you. One question I kept asking myself while preparing the exhibition was whether the project truly reached beyond the most visible cultural spaces. Often, collaborations from Europe engage primarily with established institutions – places like Nafasi or other recognised centres. But there is much more beyond that – communities and practitioners who aren’t immediately visible, yet have a great deal to contribute. What Lindi described – going to markets, meeting people from different backgrounds – is crucial. For future projects, I think it’s important to move beyond these familiar networks and engage more deeply with local communities. That’s where more authentic and diverse stories can emerge.
Lindi: For me, it’s important to work with people in a more community-based way, not only with those who already have visibility or institutional platforms. Of course, through Nafasi we were introduced to many established figures, but I consciously tried to move beyond that – going to markets, meeting people in everyday contexts. That brings its own challenges. There are language barriers, cultural differences, and sometimes misunderstandings about what the project is. People might expect something more commercial or performative – traditional dances, for example – which didn’t fit my approach. Building trust in such situations takes time, and often depends on local collaborators who can translate not just language, but context. In the end, it’s also a matter of chance – who you meet, who is willing to engage. I was fortunate to encounter many generous people, even if not all of them appear in the final film. But this kind of work really requires more time to develop meaningful relationships.
Lindi Dedek, Not Like Other Trees, during 23. SURVIVAL Art Review, photo by Małgorzata Kujda
Michalina: I deeply appreciate projects that genuinely work with communities, but they require specific conditions. What Nafasi is doing is remarkable in that sense – creating a space for artists to develop and articulate their work within both local and global frameworks. In my case, however, I didn’t feel it was possible to engage at that level within the given timeframe. I approached the project more consciously from the position of an outsider, reflecting on a historical narrative from a distance. One moment that stayed with me was a conversation with Boaz Francis Kiwelu, a hotel director in Morogoro, who asked why I was interested in this story at all. He pointed out that it wasn’t even a Tanzanian story, but one about South African refugees. His question exposed the distance between my perspective and local concerns. It also raised a broader issue: why do we seek out certain narratives, while overlooking others that might seem more “obvious” or locally relevant? These encounters made me aware of the limits of my position, but also of the importance of continuing such exchanges – through institutions, residencies, and conversations like this one.
Małgorzata: Reaching communities and underrepresented artists is always a challenge. As curators, we inevitably make selections – we can’t work with everyone, especially in contexts we don’t fully know. That’s why building strong, equal partnerships was crucial. With Nafasi, we divided responsibilities: for instance, the initial selection from the open call was made locally, by those familiar with the cultural context. At the same time, truly reaching beyond established networks requires long-term commitment. Jan’s work is a good example – he built relationships over years. That kind of engagement takes time, effort, and trust.
Lizana: The feedback we received was very positive. Audiences were especially drawn to the stories – each work sparked curiosity and invited further questions. For many, the exhibition felt like an awakening, a reminder that more of this kind of work is needed. One recurring comment, however, was the absence of the artists. Visitors are used to meeting them, asking questions directly. That was something they missed.
Amini: From our side, the exhibition was also a technical experiment. We’re used to linear screenings, but here multiple works were shown simultaneously. That made it difficult, especially during the opening, for viewers to fully engage with each piece. However, the longer duration of the exhibition allowed for repeat visits, which made a real difference. The collaboration between African and European artists was particularly meaningful – it’s one thing to present artists from different regions, but another to bring them together in a shared narrative. Overall, it was a valuable curatorial experience for us.
Lindi: Video art always poses a challenge – if you want to see everything, you’d have to spend hours in the exhibition. But it’s great that people returned. And each installation is different, shaped by space and technical conditions, which makes this kind of experimentation very valuable.
Małgorzata: You created a truly successful exhibition at Nafasi. Being there for the opening was a privilege, and we learned a great deal – especially about hospitality and audience engagement. Amini, your way of hosting was exceptional. Thank you all for this conversation – it’s been incredibly insightful.