Meet Zuza Miśko – graphic designer, illustrator, animation author, book designer, and linocut master. We asked her to create a print for Risk on the theme "Love Letter to Warsaw" – and so, a pattern was born that combines what we love most: beautiful design, love for Warsaw, and a personal story.
What was the inspiration behind the Latona and Jelonek (Fawn) print?
The story of this print began many years ago with a serendipitous discovery.
While preparing an article about Warsaw's Art Deco, I came across the Jelonek bas-relief on Tamka Street. It turned out to be one of the few surviving works of Józef Klukowski – a sculptor who was my grandmother's uncle. At home, he was simply called "Uncle Ziutek," but his work was almost unknown to me. Most of his oeuvre was lost during the war when the family home and studio were bombed. However, new photographs of his sculptures appear from time to time. Each time, I feel like I discover something very close to me in these works – a similar way of looking at nature and humanity, and a pursuit of an economical form.

The print combines two of Klukowski's creations – the preserved Jelonek (in some sources called Daniel) from Tamka and Latona, which adorned the garden of the Blikle cafe before the war. This is my own interpretation of these motifs, based on the existing sculpture and archival photographs. For this work, I also used a linocut on the theme of Jelonek, which I made in 2015.
What does it mean to you to tell a family story in a work that will appear on clothes?
Warsaw doesn't reveal its history all at once. You have to look for it in the details. If, thanks to the Risk collection, someone stops by the Jelonek on Tamka or becomes interested in the figure of Józef Klukowski, it will bring me immense joy. However, this is not a project about nostalgia. I am more interested in how history returns in new, sometimes unexpected forms. For me, Warsaw is a city that needs to be narrated.
What do you like most about working with linocut?
I am an animation director by training, but for many years I have been fascinated by the materiality of printing. I prefer to work with techniques that impose limitations and with a very economical color palette. In linocut, every line must have its justification, and every color – its function. I use various tools, but even when designing digitally, the starting point for me is analog – texture, the weight of the hand, the gesture of a sketch. That's why it was important to me that this print looked like it was hand-printed.

How did working on the print for Risk differ from your other artistic adventures?
This time, the starting point was an existing work. I didn't want to copy or stylize it. I was interested in interpretation. It's a bit like jazz – the standard remains recognizable, but each musician tells it in their own way. It was similar here. I maintained the character of Klukowski's sculptures but transferred them to a completely different medium. Stone turned into fabric, and relief into a repeating pattern.
What interests you most in the projects you create?
After more than twenty years of work, I less and less often think of myself through the prism of a single discipline. I design books, create visual identities, draw, write, and develop my own projects. All these areas intertwine. I most enjoy working with themes that combine image with narrative. Sometimes the starting point is literature, sometimes music, history, or science. I like it when a project leads me to new questions. My own artistic practice is important to me, but collaboration brings me just as much satisfaction, because dialogue leads to the most interesting solutions.