I create visual narratives with the intention of impactful expression.

Working on collections allows me to explore various possibilities within a single topic, observing how individual pieces interact in unexpected yet harmonious ways. I balance this with commercial commissions that challenge me to see from different perspectives and work within limitations—limitations that, I believe, unlock hidden reserves of creativity.

In my commercial work, especially within the fashion industry, I leverage my experience and passion to understand and fulfill the unique styles and needs of clients. I’ve had the pleasure of creating editorial illustrations for publications like Vogue, where I enhanced articles and added dynamic visual layers to the magazine’s content. My skills in collage allow me to transform photoshoots into vibrant, engaging artwork, elevating the visual storytelling of the fashion pieces.

Exploring the unpredictable nature of assembling pre-existing imagery fascinates me. Beyond the relationships between subjects within a piece, it becomes a metaphorical vehicle for storytelling. I find satisfaction in transforming something disposable into something permanent, breaking images from their original context to convey new messages.

Creation is my pressure release mechanism, grounding me in the process and allowing my thoughts to manifest physically. This approach nurtures my appreciation for the creative journey, valuing the process as much as the final outcome. The meticulous slicing of pieces often reflects the tension between the beauty and struggle of life.

Consequently, my work exhibits contrasting directions, clean forms, and compositions, drawing attention to symbolism and clarity. My training as an architect influences my preference for precision and detail. Whenever possible, I maintain a monochromatic color palette, allowing the subject to take precedence. However, I may embrace vivid hues to express vitality when the work calls for it. My senses remain attuned to my surroundings, continuously informing my practice.

Through my art, I seek to spark introspection, provoke dialogue, and encourage a deeper connection with the self and the world. My hope is that viewers emerge with a renewed sense of empathy and a richer understanding of their own emotional landscape.

People often ask why I choose black and white for my art, and why my work seems mysterious, nostalgic, and dark. I never dwell too much on art theory, but this question got me thinking. Honestly, I feel like black and white chose me. Looking back on my childhood in the 1980s, during the last years of communism in Poland, I realize that time might hold the answer.

I was around eight when communism ended. Back then, most of the art in our schoolbooks was black and white. It was likely due to material shortages and cost-cutting, but now, I see it as a blessing in disguise. Black-and-white imagery taught me to see textures, shapes, and shadows in ways that color never did. Even vibrant Impressionist paintings, stripped of their color, revealed a new world of forms and depths.

Some time ago, I visited my parents and stumbled upon a pile of my childhood drawings and paintings in the attic. Most of them were black and white, and even the paintings had muted, subdued colors. The sad eyes in the portraits stared back at me, and the themes were predominantly figurative—a style I still love today. Psychology is one of my passions, and I see my work as a way of exploring myself and striving to be a better person. Family tragedies occurred during those years, and though my parents tried to shield me from them, I wonder if they influenced me more than I realize. These are new observations for me.

Growing up, most playgrounds were locked behind tall fences, and access was limited. My friends and I had to create our own worlds, using our imagination and whatever we could find. We built treehouses, forts in the bushes, and endless drawings. My mom always said she never had to keep me busy—I was full of ideas and ready to experiment. Resourcefulness became second nature to me, and I see now how that trait has carried over into my art. Creativity often thrives within limitations, and I've learned to embrace that in both life and art.

In high school, our chemistry teacher, who was also the school director, had a deep appreciation for art and music despite her scientific background. Once a month, she arranged classical music performances for us and took us on trips to museums in Cracow. These experiences sparked my love for avant-garde art and taught me to see the world from different angles. To me, music and art are deeply connected—they complement each other by engaging our senses simultaneously, intensifying the experience.

After high school, I spent over seven years studying architecture and landscape architecture. Naturally, most of my projects were in black and white—precise, logical, and dimensional. During that time, I also explored historical preservation in Germany, where I was introduced to a design philosophy that prized precision, functionality, and clarity. Living in another country, absorbing the culture, learning the language—it all reinforced the idea that visual language is universal and makes communication easier. This experience added a new dimension to my work—clean lines, architectural elements, and attention to detail became essential to my art.

Then, unexpectedly, I found myself in America. Over the past 14 years, I've lived in various places across the U.S., absorbing the culture and adapting to a different approach to art. The American style often emphasizes accessibility and broad appeal, mixing innovation with pragmatism. Learning to balance my European sensibilities with this openness to commercial work has been a valuable journey—one I’m still navigating.

Each of these experiences—my Polish roots, German influences, and American adaptability—has shaped my perspective and guided me toward creating art that feels rich and multi-dimensional. People and personalities aren’t flat; they’re full of layers and nuances. My art aims to reflect that complexity. Black and white, with its simplicity, allows me to strip away distractions and invite viewers to see beyond the surface—to focus on the essence of the subject. In a world that's often overstimulating, black and white offers a moment of calm, a timeless depth that encourages us to look deeper.

Agata works in her studios in Florida and Oregon.

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