Born March 3, 1909.
Włodzimierz Puchalski was one of the most famous Polish nature scientists and photographers. He was actually the person who invented hunting photography.
His whole life Włodzimierz would make short notes about what went on with him and around him:
March 21, 1937. Came down with flu.
March 23, 1938. Freezing cold of -30 degrees is back.
January 24, 1941. First larks. Freezing, no snow, -4 degrees.
That was not just a journal. Whenever Włodzimierz was going on a nature trip, he would check with his calendar and see what conditions there had been in the previous years. Thanks to that habit, he was able to prepare himself properly for the journey.
During the war, the tone of the entries changed. ‘Birds share the world’s sorrow, their tweets are not as expressive,’ Włodzimierz wrote.
On September 1, 1939 he put down only one word in his diary, ‘War’. That day, the scientist promised himself he would not pick up a camera until its end. He buried all his photography equipment in the Sandomierz forest, and came back for it only in 1945. The camera was still in working order, despite the corrosion.
A person can rarely accomplish as much in their life as Włodzimierz Puchalski did. He founded the Krakow Film Institute in 1946. He worked as an operator and a movie director in Łódź. Włodzimierz established the hunting photography department at the Jagiellonian University. He authored almost 60 movies about nature. He left behind the legacy of a few thousand unique photograms and over 100 thousand negatives. More than one generation of hunting photographers grew up with his shots.
Włodzimierz Puchalski was born on March 6, 1909 near Lviv. ‘One of my first memories of the time when I could barely stand were episodes from the lives of pigeons and sparrows. Those birds astonished me with their mobility and elegance, especially considering that I didn’t really know how to walk,’ he recalled.
Włodzimierz managed to get away on his first hunting trip at the age of 13. When he turned 14, his grandfather presented him with a folding camera. Ever since then, hunting and taking photos became his lifelong hobbies. And in 1927 his first photo exhibition called The Frog took place in Lviv.
‘Father hunted till the end of his days. He loved hunting, as he saw it as a way to be more mobile and communicate with nature,’ Anna, Włodzimierz Puchalski’s daughter, said. ‘Never had I tasted more delicious wild boar, pheasant or hare sausagemeat. Even before the war, in 1936, father organised the first nature and hunting exhibition in Poland. A year later, at the Great Hunting Olympics in Berlin, he received the gold medal for winter shots of a wild boar. He visited the largest ornithology station in Russia twice.’
‘I see hunters as allies when it comes to preserving nature,’ Puchalski himself stated. ‘Thanks to their great knowledge, many species survive. Not one of them will die as long as there are knowledgeable and conscientious hunters.’
Bloodless Hunt, that was the name of the debut nature film by Włodzimierz Puchalski. It was the first time that kind of shooting took place in Poland.
Włodzimierz would get up at 5 a.m. for a hunt. He would pack a thermos, boiled eggs and schnitzels. However, if needed, he could lie in ambush for several days with almost no food, waiting for the little penduline tit. Or he could, without moving, watch baby birds hatching for hours. Włodzimierz showed patience and sheer perseverance. He just did not want to scare the feathered creatures at such a crucial time.
‘He was rarely seen at home. We spent our vacations together, and he would visit us during holidays. He would bring a fir tree from the Niepołomice Forest. Thanks to him, I believed in angels for a long time. Three days before Christmas one room would close down. Father made a special mechanism out of laces and tugged on it when we were at the table. Then an angel “rang the bell” in the closed room. At that moment Father’s helper emptied a bag full of chicken or goose feathers. When I entered that mysterious room to get my presents, candles were flickering, the window was open and the feathers were flying all over the place. It was obvious to me then that an Angel had just flown out of there. Father was the most wonderful man I ever had the fortune to know,’ Anna recalled.
Puchalski tried to introduce wilderness into all the places it was lacking. He brought a lot of animals home. At different periods his family owned a goat, a wild boar and even a young abandoned lion cub – the photographer managed to get it at the zoo. Especially memorable for the family were the steppe polecats he brought once from a gopher hunt.
Włodzimierz found the baby polecats abandoned by their mother in a den. There was no other option for him but to take them in. However, the little animals caused a lot of trouble. The main one being that they refused to eat. Then the photographer assumed the role of their mother: he bit down on pieces of meat with his teeth and gave them to the babies that way. It was very effective.
When the ‘bloodless hunter’ was not busy with animals, he took care of garden beds. He grew flowers and vegetables. Włodzimierz would always lay out a brightly coloured garden right before his wife and daughter came home to Podlesie. He bought the place with a 200-year-old building and basically raised it from the ruins.
Most of his postwar life Włodzimierz Puchalski spent travelling. He loved the flow of the Narva and Biebrza the most. He said that despite seeing a lot of lakes and rivers, it was those places that impressed him in the most unforgettable way.
Puchalski liked to go to shooting locations on a grey military truck that had a furnace inside. A driver and assistants would go with him. Those who went with Włodzimierz on those trips recall that, in addition to the ability to feel the forest, he had a knack for finding common ground and being able to come to an agreement with anyone, which was invaluable.
Although Włodzimierz Puchalski loved the Polish landscape, he wanted to journey far and wide. In 1957 and 1958 he took part in two trips to the Arctic.
‘I think Father was drawn to that cold region because its land was primeval and harsh,’ Anna Puchalski said. ‘On the other hand, Father was colour-blind. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he wanted to stay in a black-and-white world. He made black-and-white photos all his life, you know. He said that only they could convey the beauty he was trying to show.’
Włodzimierz always dreamed of visiting the South Pole. And at the age of 69 he finally joined the Polish Academy of Sciences expedition to Antarctica. He was supposed to bring back some material for documentaries.
By that time Puchalski had already suffered two heart attacks, and doctors told him he should not make the trip. He even had to sign a special document saying that he took full responsibility for possible consequences.
Sea lions, walruses and seals… In order to capture them on film, he crawled towards them. He knew that a person standing on two legs could be read as a threat. His main goal, as usual, were birds. All his life he enjoyed taking photographs of them the most.
During the expedition Włodzimierz kept a diary and wrote letters to family and friends. The recipients compared those notes to marvellous fairytales.
He found a cricket on the ship, in one of the equipment containers. He called it his confidant and kept it in a jar. Puchalski told his daughter about that cricket. But when he called Anna to congratulate the girl on her birthday, the insect died of cold.
The next day the photographer himself passed away. He had a heart attack. It occurred on January 19, 1979 on King George Island. Włodzimierz Puchalski was buried at a Polish Antarctic station, and his grave is included in the list of Antarctic historic objects.