Earlier this month, the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage of the Republic of Poland named Daniel Muzyczuk as the next director of the Muzeum Sztuki in Łódź. Muzyczuk boasts a prestigious pedigree, having been curator at the Centre of Contemporary Art Znaki Czasu in Toruń and curator of the Polish pavilion of the 55th Venice Biennale with Agnieszka Pindera in 2013. He joined the Muzeum Sztuki in 2015 and has served as chief curator since then. Poland is in an exciting place artistically, and Observer caught up with Muzyczuk to hear more about his plans after his promotion.
You’ve been acting director of the museum since last summer. What’s the significance of your confirmation as director? What kind of expanded remit does this status confer?
The confirmation brings the possibility of long-term planning. Acting as interim director, my role was primarily to avert the damages caused by my predecessor and to reconstruct the curatorial team. Now I can act strategically and implement a long-term vision. The new permanent exhibition opens this autumn, the museum is getting back on track with its international collaborations, and we are developing ms3, our planned third branch. This project, combining research, storage and exhibition spaces, is one of the most significant cultural investments in Poland in the coming decade. My new status gives me both legitimacy and responsibility to lead the museum through this crucial transformation, while also ensuring it remains faithful to its founding principles.
Muzeum Sztuki was established in 1930, making it one of the world’s oldest museums of modern art. How do you view this legacy, and how does it inform the museum’s future?
This legacy is truly unique. At that time, when most museums were still collecting safely within the framework of tradition, artists like Władysław Strzemiński, Katarzyna Kobro and their avant-garde peers convinced international colleagues to donate works of modern art to Łódź. This was not only a gesture of solidarity but also a radical statement: they believed art could help shape a new society. Muzeum Sztuki is therefore not just a museum about modernity—it is itself a modernist project, born out of utopian thinking.
For me, this history is not a burden but a compass and an asset. It tells us that the museum must remain a living laboratory where art and society meet, where internationalism and solidarity are guiding principles. In the future, I see the museum as both deeply rooted in this avant-garde heritage and constantly oriented toward new questions. Just as the founders asked how art could transform life, we must also ask what role art can play in facing the current challenges.
Museums have become ensnared in politics around the world, and Poland is no exception. How do you intend to navigate this particular aspect of your job?
Every museum operates within a political context—and ours is no different. The question is not whether to engage with politics, but how. For me, the key lies in emphasizing the museum’s public responsibility. We are not a private foundation; we are an institution that belongs to society. This means ensuring access, supporting education, cultivating critical thinking and providing space for radical differences to appear.
At the same time, we must safeguard artistic autonomy. Art is often uncomfortable, sometimes provocative, and that is precisely its power. The Muzeum Sztuki has weathered different political systems—interwar Poland, the communist period, the transition of the 1990s—by staying committed to art as a space of free expression. My role is to maintain this balance: to engage with difficult questions of our time and to host debate but also to resist being instrumentalized by partisan agendas. In practice, this means focusing on values that transcend politics: openness, solidarity, creativity and dialogue.
In the statement about your appointment, you said, “We must understand the museum as both a public institution and an artistic instrument.” Are those two sides of it in conflict? Or can they complement each other?
I see them as complementary. As a public institution, the museum is accountable: we serve taxpayers, we work with schools and we create accessibility for diverse audiences. This dimension grounds us in responsibility. But the museum is also an artistic instrument—which means it must take risks, innovate and allow artists to test boundaries. The solidarity of artists principle is an obligation for the institution to constantly seek guidance in the artists’ voices and their methodologies. Sometimes this experimental side may appear to conflict with the institutional side. But in reality, it is this very duality that gives us strength. A museum without experimentation becomes bureaucratic; a museum without public accountability becomes elitist. The Muzeum Sztuki has historically managed to combine both, and I believe this is precisely why it has been so influential. It is a civic institution and an avant-garde tool at the same time. That paradox is what makes it alive.
You’ve been affiliated with the museum since 2011. What are some of the shows that you’re proudest of having worked on, and why?
“Notes from the Underground” (2016) was important because it gave visibility to countercultural movements in Eastern Europe, voices often excluded from the mainstream narratives of modern art. It connected the museum to broader questions of freedom, resistance and cultural dissent. “Ways of Seeing” (opening on October 17)—the new permanent collection show—is important because it presents the Muzeum Sztuki not only as a site of the unfolding history of art, but also as a history of ideas, identities and emancipatory practices. The exhibition highlights how seeing is never neutral, but shaped by social, political and technological contexts. This will be a powerhouse that is going to be fueling our activity for the years to come.
What are some of your favorite works in the collection?
Choosing is difficult, but I often return to Katarzyna Kobro’s spatial compositions. They embody the belief that art is not decoration, but a tool to reimagine human relationships with space and time. They are radical, beautiful and deeply human. Another landmark is Joseph Beuys’s donation of 700 works in the 1980s—not just because of the art itself, but because of the gesture. It echoed the founding gift of the avant-garde in the 1930s: a belief in solidarity, in sharing art as a common good. It is a container of ever-relevant political ideas. At the same time, I find great value in contemporary works that expand the collection into new territories, whether dealing with questions of identity, technology or ecology. The collection is like a living organism—and my favorites change as the conversation between works evolves.
Tell me about the art scene in Łódź. What might surprise people about it?
Łódź has always been a city of experimentation. In the early 20th Century, its avant-garde was not an imitation of Paris or Berlin, but an original formation, deeply connected to the city’s unique social fabric as a fast-growing industrial center. This history left a strong imprint: artists here have always asked what art can do for society, not just what it can represent. Today, the scene is smaller than in Warsaw or Kraków, but very dynamic. It thrives on collaboration between institutions, independent spaces and grassroots initiatives. There is a spirit of resourcefulness, experimentation and solidarity.
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