Dad went to Auschwitz.

and back...

Still overwhelmed by the whole journey. Need to put things in order.

Once again, after meticulous planning, off I went to take a photograph I had waited far too long to capture.

Years ago, when I first began this photo project, I realized there was no realistic way for me to travel to Poland. Then one day, passing by the skeleton of a familiar agricultural greenhouse structure, I remember thinking:

“Well… if I can’t go to Poland, then Poland will just have to come to me.”

And that is how the constructed “Birke-No” photomontage was born — an image built entirely on association, memory, and visual reflex.

More about the creation of that image here:

“Never Again — To Us, or Never Again. Period.”

But a few months ago, Christof heard about my almost two-decade-long urge to make this photograph, and offered that I join him, along with an incredible group of teachers and students, on their journey to Krakow and Auschwitz.

“You can give photography workshops,” he said, “and also take your photograph.”

I agreed immediately.

And then came the realization that I was voluntarily driving myself toward the largest factory of death humanity ever built.

The night before renting the car, I thought about the Jews who once lived near my current flat in Berlin. People who received simple notices of evacuation in their mailboxes, letters which became more and more aggressive as the years progressed, instructing them to report to Wittenberg Station — from where many began their final journey east.

Wittenberg Train station - leading east back then

And there I was — getting into a rented car, cameras and lenses packed carefully beside me — heading directly there.

East Drive plan

Without stopping along the way, I was making my way towards Krakow in good time, so I decided I could and should make the stop at the location I planned to photograph the next morning, just to familiarize myself with the area.

The closer I got the more I prepared myself mentally for this visit.

The only thing racing faster than my heart was my head, with memories and thoughts about this project, all converging into this trip, I was happy the car couldn't go faster.

I needed a surprising amount of mindfulness just to stay present and focused on the road.

The road signs had been vague for most of the drive.

Then suddenly, they weren't.

Each new sign pointing toward Oświęcim tightened something inside me.

Every time I activated the turn signal, it felt reluctant.

Each turn brought me closer to the place where more than a million people were murdered...strange feeling to deliberately and voluntarily aim for this location.

At that point, it was time to reach for the humor I always claim runs through our veins no less than blood itself.

I needed every molecule of endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin I could recruit...

But there was no access to jokes in my mind.

In fact, I felt more like a pilot approaching the target — memorizing time, speed, over-target. I even stopped 15 minutes before the target, just to open up the gear, have it ready to mount on the quick-release plate, and shoot — if needed, to be super fast.

I suddenly remembered a photograph I took 20 years ago in an insurance company office, not knowing yet what I think about this almost childish act the Israeli air force did, flying in formation with three fighter jets over the camp.

What a news item.

I remember thinking how ridiculous it was, and as the agent stepped out of the office to bring our forms to sign, I quickly pulled out my pocket camera and captured this moment. I remember saying to myself - yep - all it would take to bring down the Nazi occupation forces is 3 jets.

Sure...what is it? arrogance? stupidity?

...but we signed those forms...

If only we were there on time...yeah right...

Back to my journey to Krakow, I was at this point really getting close, everything around seemed familiar, crossing a bridge over some water I had a feeling I can see locations from the movie "The Zone of Interest", the troubling brilliant soundtrack was twisting my stomach.

I managed to save — or so I thought — 20 crucial minutes before sunset by driving along the camp fences due to an open section of the road, and found myself driving alongside a field full of rundown huts, which was absolutely mind-crazy.

And as I reached the famous — or should I say notorious — tower, a guard came out to me and started talking to me in Polish. He was getting angry, pointing with his hands that I am not supposed to be on this road in the first place.

While I tried to ask where I could park for just 30 minutes, he was unable to understand me.

I clicked into mode.

Luckily, a guide was there to point me east from where I was standing, toward the parking lot.

And as I shot off, I realized the parking lot was fenced, with a wide and elevated sidewalk in front of me, for a split second filled with panic, I considered jumping with the car right through, just not to drive by the guard again, no matter how much damage this would do to the car...but then realised this would be crazy, especially considering the fact that I will be walking back there with camera gear and tripod in a couple of minutes.

good - my brain was still dominant in comparison to my feelings.

In order to turn around, I needed to make a U-turn really close to the death-train tracks.

and there I was, after shooting down Poland, stuck in an Austin Powers turn-the-car-around scene. Ridiculous and healthy for me at this point...

As I started to maneuver my way through the tight space, I saw the famous angle, bringing me back to focus.

First glimps of the camps gate

I drove around and quickly parked at the designated place, no favours, no cutting corners, engines off...

Finally got out of the car with the gear.

Standing there after eight hours of driving straight — I hadn't even stopped for a meal. Full focus, just to get there.

And suddenly, to stand there.

I had blocked out so much of the atmosphere around me. Just focus and focus.

Framing.

Making sure of the light reading.

Making sure the composition fit my original “copy” of this scene — the one I wanted to create a symmetrical dialogue with.

Under the bridge, with my back to the fence, facing outwards

Yep, that’s me.

With my back to the terrible death factory.

Felt good.

Standing there with my back to the cruelest tower on earth.

This would be the spot.

Because YES — this is the way out!

Back in 2007 during my first visit to Berlin, my question was:

Who do we serve, thinking and behaving as if we are still in there, rather than realizing we are, once again, free to roam the planet freely? Would anybody recognize the place, if I just turn 180 degrees to look outwards, towards the endless freedom, where we really are today?

I am afraid this question has answered itself in the past 2 dacades,

it seems like the people become more predictable for the benefit of any dictator.

The long awaited angle from the camp...

I waited so long for this day, and knew exactly how I wanted to capture the scene.

I pulled out my camera and shot some tests.People were coming and going. The visitors were curious, interested in the most strange angle I chose to document. While they were all about documenting the inside of the notorious camp, this guy insisted on looking out and beyond.

I realised I will never get a clean shot without any people, so I tried to catch a relatively interesting moment with minimalistic people in my frame, and after a short while of observing the area, I folded the equipment and talked to a guard of the museum, hoping the next morning I could park really close...nope - only in the parking lot.

Fine. I know now how to get there... There was some interest in what I was doing.I didn't let any of that distract me.I was on a mission.I owed this to myself.I shot some more and backed it all up there, just in case I don't know what...Whatever!And walked straight back to the car — to reach Krakow before dark.

Didn't make it...

Looking at some captured photographs, I started to feel better, as thoughts and plans started to touch base.

I even managed to find some subtle humour on my way back to the parking lot.

One tour vehicle carried the slogan:

“Our tours are your memories.”

Yeah...I bet...

That stayed with me for a while.

"Our tours are your memories" - shyah...

And looking back for the last time before I headed to Krakow, I couldn't resist this familiar capture — to have one of my own.

Sunset on the death camp.

So much was going on in my head, as well as around me, as I packed my gear and started heading for the car in the parking lot.

I was there for less than an hour, though it felt like a week.

And I was very disappointed to realize I would have to pay for a full parking day...

I didn't really care.

I just wanted to reach Krakow.

I had so many concerns, doubts, fear...

And I was confronting them all.

That was it, baby!

I called it a wrap!

Back in the car, on my way to rest in my hotel room in Krakow, I passed by the guard, who clearly disliked my energy and attitude.

Nodding towards me as I passed by on my way out, I opened the window, waved, and, as I smiled at him, just called out to his canceling nods:

“Sorry! — Never again!!”....(until the next morning-sunrise..)

❤️‍🩹💫📸