I was looking through photographs from Gliniada. I noticed one that caught my attention with its beauty and unusual character.
In the foreground, a beautiful woman shown in profile gazes into the distance, holding a rose in her hand. In the background, the Glinoludy—men and women leaning against a wall—serve as a backdrop for the girl. She walks forward, paying no attention to them. Her difference and exoticism are the protagonists of this photograph.
Someone called it exceptional grayness—the Glinoludy. Carnival grayness, I say.
They march in parades wearing clay masks that originally cover not only their faces but their entire bodies. They are wonderful to watch, look perfect in photographs, and cause a commotion. They stand out strikingly in every crowd. They can act out scenes and arrange formations. Highly expressive simply because of their appearance, when they begin to perform something as well, they create a stage space around themselves.
The carnivals of medieval Europe—in Venice, Cologne, or Nice—had one very important purpose, and it was neither promoting the city nor mere entertainment. They were about psychologically removing the mask. In feudal society, social roles were fixed. One could break away from them and transform into someone else only during carnival. Carnival was a safety valve, a release of pressure from a society tightly confined in a corset.
Being a Glinolud—exceptionally gray—is being someone different and original; it is an opportunity to play a wild, crazy role under controlled conditions and within street parades.
Faces covered in clay are interesting, unconventional, and eccentric. In a clay costume, one can allow oneself to go wild, be someone else, attract attention, be watched, admired, discussed, and photographed. In today’s tabloid world, one can be a star oneself. There is also the pleasure of belonging to an original group and representing ideas and events that are unusual, artistic, special, and beautiful. Gliniada is a form of theatre, carnival, and performance. The opportunity for expression that Gliniada offers is an irresistible morsel for everyone bored with the monotony of everyday life—people with imagination and original ideas. It is also a form of social rebellion and provocation. These half-naked bodies and amusing poses can provoke prudes and moralizers. A rigid society that thinks in stereotypes can be stirred by the Glinoludy, who mock convention.
This is everything Gliniada gives us. Does it promote the town? If handled well from a marketing perspective—yes. If the idea of a crazy clay carnival spreads throughout Poland—why not across Europe, for that matter? If the atmosphere, magic, and opportunity to take part in a collective wild celebration spread like a virus, the name of the town associated with Gliniada will become recognizable.
But above all, Gliniada is an original, creative idea and an extraordinary event that allows everyone to join the fun, and everyone can create it themselves, add their own idea, pose, outfit, and their very self. After putting on a clay mask, one crosses the threshold of the ordinary and begins to become someone exotic. One can realize oneself on a different plane, in a different space.
As a phenomenon, Gliniada has enormous power. And it was born in Bolesławiec. That is the most important thing, and we should be aware of it.
Grażyna Hanaf