Ілона Карпюк. Фота: Яўген Атцецкі.
Podlasie is a unique border region of Poland where Western and Eastern Christian traditions meet, and where the Belarusian language and culture are an integral part of the local landscape. Yet, because of the region’s complex historical context, for some generations discovering their own national identity became a revelation that shaped the course of their lives.
In this new series, we tell the stories of prominent Belarusians from Podlasie and the Białystok region for whom national identity became the result of a conscious choice.
I first became acquainted with today’s guest about ten years ago, when I came across a remarkable song based on Ales Razanau‘s poem “On This Land,” performed by the Białystok-based band Ilo&Friends. I was struck by the distinctive vocal style of the band’s lead singer, Ilona Karpiuk, and by her interpretation of the Belarusian poet’s work. Ten years later, in exile, I met Ilona again. She remains a musician with Ilo&Friends, but she is also now an experienced cultural manager. Today, Ilona serves as deputy director of the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok (Centrum Kultury Białoruskiej w Białymstoku) — one of Poland’s newest institutions dedicated to Belarusian culture. Its official opening is scheduled for September.
When we arrive in Białystok, a light rain is falling over the city. Ilona welcomes us in a separate office on the second floor of a building at 1A Warszawska Street, where part of the new institution is now located.
— It feels as though the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok has always existed, given the historical context, I remark, but I understand you only recently acquired these new premises?
— That’s true. But I should point out that the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok was established only in 2024, the manager replies. It is one of the newest institutions dedicated to Belarusian culture in Poland. Moreover, the Center is a self-government institution established by the Podlaskie Voivodeship. It is the only institution in Poland created specifically for a national minority — in this case, the Belarusian minority. We are registered as an institution operating under Polish legislation governing cultural activities and public finances.
The institution’s status is an encouraging development, as it means the Center now enjoys long-term support from the state.
Ilona explains how this became possible.
— You could say it was the result of a convergence within the community. It happened thanks to a fortunate combination of circumstances, but also because for many years various non-governmental organizations in the Białystok region had been working to support Belarusian culture.
She is referring to the Belarusian Social and Cultural Society, the weekly Niva, both active since the 1950s, the Belarusian Students’ Association founded in the 1980s, the Belarusian Historical Society, the Belarusian Democratic Association, the well-known Kamunikat Foundation, and many other initiatives. Together, they created a network that sustained Belarusian identity. Then, in 2023, as Ilona puts it, “favorable winds began to blow,” making it possible for a new institution to emerge.
— Even earlier, we created a non-governmental initiative called the Belarusian Culture Center — with exactly the same name — to demonstrate that our organizations were ready for such an institution to be established. This “Center” acted as a body that could explain to the regional authorities the importance, purpose and necessity of creating such a structure, Ilona Karpiuk says. Based on that project, the then-marshal supported the proposal and submitted our application to the regional assembly. It received enough votes to pass, she explains, describing the process through which the Center came into being.
Whatever the circumstances, the project became a reality. The Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok opened and now employs 11 people. Initially, it operated from the Marshal’s Office building while awaiting the renovation of premises on Mickiewicza Street. More recently, however, the administration decided to lease a building at 1A Warszawska Street to allow the institution to function and develop more fully.
Today, the Center is developing several areas of activity, ranging from building an archive to organizing concerts of classical Belarusian music.
Our first stop in one of the Center’s “departments” is its archive. More precisely, it is an archival collection still in the process of being assembled. Yet even this small room, with shelves lined with boxes containing artifacts, immediately captures our attention.
— At the moment, the collection includes more than 3,000 items, Ilona says, pointing to the shelves. We collect documents, photographs, books, leaflets, posters — everything related to Belarusian culture.
The cultural manager shows us one of the institution’s first collections: more than 200 cassette tapes recorded by musicologist, folklorist and researcher from Podlasie Stsiapan Kopa.
— During the 1980s and 1990s, Stsiapan Kopa traveled from village to village recording songs, fairy tales and stories about local customs and rituals. He also worked with folk ensembles across the Białystok region and led village music groups, she says about the well-known local figure.
The deputy director notes that the Center recently received a grant from Poland’s Ministry of Culture and National Heritage to digitize the collection, which includes recordings, documents and Kopa’s research materials.
— We plan to process the material and publish it on our website so that anyone can listen to songs performed in different local dialects, the manager adds. Where did these songs come from? Who recorded and performed them?
With interest, we notice copies of the Belarusian-language children’s newspaper Zorka published in Poland. The date on the cover reads 1957. Nearby are other books and teaching materials, including a Belarusian language textbook published in 1940.
Opening the book to browse its contents, we come across a page of riddles: “What runs without legs? What burns without a flame? What is blue without being dyed? What winds around a tree?” (The answers can be found in the video.)
— Can you guess? Ilona Karpiuk asks.
She notes that as recently as the 1960s it was still possible to find schools in the Białystok region where instruction was provided in both Polish and Belarusian.
— It was a unique situation, she says. Today, Belarusian is taught in our schools only as an additional subject for the national minority.
The issue has repeatedly been discussed in the media, and Ilona confirms that an increasing number of children from Belarusian families in Podlasie now speak Polish.
— And where did this come from? we ask, noticing a copy of Symon the Musician by Yakub Kolas on one of the shelves.
— That book is not yet part of the collection, our guide replies. Usually, when we acquire items for the archive, a commission made up of historians, researchers and archivists evaluates each artifact before deciding whether to include it in the collection.
Items arrive at the Center’s archive through various channels. Some are acquired from collectors, while others come from local residents. Among the more interesting holdings already in the archive, the deputy director shows us albums filled with old photographs.
— This one, for example, she says, comes from the family of Orthodox clergy who served in Podlasie. What’s particularly interesting is that we also acquired an album created by parishioners as a gift for their parish priest. It is, in effect, a history of parish life.
Our attention is also drawn to an unusual studio portrait. Against a geometric backdrop, a family poses for the camera.
— We have not yet been able to determine exactly when this photograph was taken, but it shows a family of emigrants from Podlasie, Ilona says. They came to Białystok from the United States.
Court documents from the early 20th century, a Pesnyary record, copies of the weekly Przyjazn dedicated to the Days of Belarusian Culture (1955), albums of photographs of Belarusian towns and villages taken by German soldiers and officers during World War I, and many other materials — the archive already offers plenty to explore and discuss.
— These days, documents and photographs left by previous generations are often of little interest to many people, Ilona reflects, speaking about changes in rural communities where old houses are increasingly purchased by newcomers. Someone may move into a house with a long history and simply throw such things away. That is exactly why we are creating this archive, she emphasizes, adding that the Center welcomes donations of items related to the history of both the Białystok region and the wider Belarusian-Polish borderland.
As part of its mission to preserve the past, the Center also organizes memoir-writing workshops. They are led by reporter and writer Aneta Prymaka-Oniszk, author of the acclaimed book Kamienie musiały polecieć. Wymazana przeszłość Podlasia (“The Stones Had to Fly: The Erased Past of Podlasie”).
— Sometimes children and grandchildren simply do not have time to record the memories of their parents and grandparents, so we encourage people to write down their own recollections and open themselves to that opportunity, Ilona says about this aspect of the Center’s work. Aneta, whose own book grew out of her family history, helps middle-aged and older people work with family memory.
In this context, our interviewee also mentions the book Ruins of Belarus, which represents the Center’s publishing activities. The project was carried out last year together with the VEHA Archive and the Arsenal Gallery.
Interestingly, the gallery approached the institution with the idea of publishing the ambitious art project, only to discover that its theme closely matched the Center’s own interests.
— Our archive contains many photographs from the wartime and postwar periods showing Belarusian towns and cities in ruins, which fit perfectly with the theme of the publication. As a result, photographs from the Center’s collection were included in the album, which was later recognized as one of Poland’s most beautiful books, she says.
In May this year, Ruins of Belarus received an honorary distinction (Wyróżnienie) at the prestigious 66th Najpiękniejsze Polskie Książki 2025 (“Most Beautiful Polish Books 2025”) competition organized by the Polish Book Publishers Society (PTWK).
Educational programs, publishing, a library, workshops and concerts — Ilona describes each area of the Center’s work while using the institution as a lens through which to explain the current state of Belarusian culture and language in Podlasie.
I am particularly struck by the fact that the Center publishes works by Belarusian authors in both Belarusian and Polish. Why?
— The number of readers in Belarusian, especially within the Belarusian minority, is declining dramatically, she says, describing an unfortunate trend. That is why it is important for us to place Belarusian books within a Polish cultural context.
To mark the 80th birthday of Uladzimir Niakliaeu, the Center published the poet’s collection Holy Water in both Polish and Belarusian. Last year, together with the Kamunikat Foundation, it also published Larysa Hienijuš‘s memoir Birds Without Nests, supplemented by documents from the Czech government confirming the restoration of the Belarusian poet’s Czech citizenship.
Reflecting on the distinctiveness of the Belarusian minority in Podlasie, Ilona turns to the region’s history.
— There are deeply traumatic events in that history, she says. For the Belarusians of the Białystok region, first there was the refugee crisis during World War I, then the postwar resettlements, and later the Polish anti-communist armed underground.
In the latter case, it is an especially painful memory because Belarusian civilians — Orthodox Belarusians who lived here — were killed. It is a memory passed down through generations, a memory that remained hidden. That is precisely why we find ourselves in today’s situation.
Ilona also mentions the recently published book by Siarhiej Czyhryn, Przesiedleńcy czy uchodźcy (“Resettlers or Refugees”), which tells the story of Belarusians resettled from the Białystok region to the Soviet Union between 1944 and 1948. While many people are familiar with the postwar resettlement of Poles from Belarus, far fewer know that during those four years about 30,000 people were relocated from the Białystok region to the Belarusian SSR.
— That meant the Belarusians of the region lost thousands of people — their intelligentsia, artists and cultural figures who could have shaped national consciousness and society, she says.
The deputy director also points to the interwar period. At that time, many Belarusians who had fled during the refugee exodus of 1915 returned to Podlasie. Yet they were preoccupied with rebuilding their homes and ensuring their survival, leaving little time to reflect on questions of cultural identity.
— People were rebuilding their homes, she says. They believed there would still be time for culture. But then World War II came and once again took away any certainty about the future.
The era of the Polish People’s Republic followed, with policies that prioritized the titular nation. As a result, the presence of national minorities in public life developed only slowly. Belarusian culture was largely presented as peasant culture.
— How were we supposed to know there was something more? our interviewee asks. It was only in the 1980s that the Belarusians of the Białystok region became acquainted with living representatives of Belarusian culture — writers, artists and musicians. Of course, we studied Belarusian at school and knew Kolas, Kupala and the major figures of Belarusian literature, but we did not know their contemporaries.
According to Ilona, the true cultural revival came in the 1990s. The Belarusian Students’ Association founded the legendary Basovišča music festival, which became a platform for meeting, exchange and cooperation.
— It turned out there was a place where people could come together, Ilona recalls. We realized that the Belarusian idea could resonate with people on both sides of the border, because we think in similar ways.
The history experienced by generations of Belarusians in Podlasie throughout the 20th century shaped a highly distinctive identity. For some Belarusians in the region, the new wave of Belarusian emigration has created opportunities for joint projects and cooperation. Others, however, do not necessarily see a need or interest in such collaboration.
For the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok, such cooperation is undoubtedly welcome.
The story of our interviewee herself is an example of how choosing one’s identity can shape a person’s life.
We step outside with Ilona to walk the streets that have become part of her daily working life.
As she explains, she began to realize her Belarusian identity in childhood. Although Ilona grew up and was educated in Hajnówka, she was strongly influenced by the village where her grandparents lived, because they spoke Belarusian.
— It was a time when my parents’ generation was moving to towns in search of work. I was brought up in Polish. But thanks to my connection with the village, I was able to live in two languages. My grandparents spoke Belarusian, and I spent every weekend and every school holiday with them.
Ilona did not begin studying Belarusian at school until the seventh grade — “for some reason there were no Belarusian lessons in primary school.” She later enrolled at the Belarusian Lyceum in Hajnówka, where she found herself surrounded by other young people who also understood their distinct identity.
— I read a great deal of Belarusian poetry at the lyceum, and later Doroteusz Fionik began organizing his ethnographic summer camps, Ilona Karpiuk recalls, referring to the well-known champion of Belarusian culture and founder of the Museum of the Little Homeland in Studziwody. We traveled to villages where people who had lived through the refugee exodus were still alive, recording conversations with those who remembered those events.
It was through this amateur ethnographic work that young people found their way into the local history of Belarusian Podlasie.
— By then my grandfather had already passed away, the cultural manager recalls, so I had to ask other people from Podlasie about the past. Later my friends and I even asked to join the winter field trips, traveling with one of our lyceum teachers to record people’s memories.
— It was also the time when tournaments for Belarusian youth were organized, Ilona adds. Students from the Belarusian lyceums in Hajnówka and Bielsk Podlaski took part, along with members of the Belarusian Students’ Association. I also remember young people from the Orthodox Youth Brotherhood participating in the competitions.
When Ilona Karpiuk entered the lyceum, she had planned to become a doctor. But the Belarusian movement changed her plans, eventually leading her toward the humanities.
At the same time, music remained a constant part of her life. She performed folk and popular songs at the local cultural center, joined the girls’ ensemble Znička while still at school, and later became a member of the rock band Homan, which qualified for Basovišča and performed at the festival.
Ilona says she had dreamed of attending Basovišča since childhood.
— My uncles — my mother’s brothers — were strongly connected to the Belarusian movement and used to go to the festival. Afterwards they would tell stories about how much fun they had, how people celebrated, and what everyone had managed to lose there, she recalls. I always wanted to go myself, but my parents would not let me. Then, at 18, I finally went there as a member of a rock band. In my own car! It was something I’ll never forget, she says with a smile.
At the festival, Ilona Karpiuk met many Belarusians and later moved to Warsaw. There she also became part of the city’s Belarusian activist community, joined the Basovišča organizing team and began helping organize cultural events in the Polish capital.
— We organized Freedom Day events at the university and many other activities, she says.
Then, unexpectedly for many people, she returned to Białystok. How? Through the MOST student exchange program, which allowed students to choose any higher education institution in Poland. Ilona chose Białystok.
— People laughed at me, she admits. But I had already decided to write my academic thesis about the Belarusian minority’s intelligentsia, and the research was based on interviews with Belarusian public figures. Besides, someone had to organize the next Basovišča festival, she adds with a laugh.
By that time, Ilona Karpiuk was already head of the Belarusian Students’ Association.
After earning degrees in sociology and film directing, she unexpectedly began working for the weekly Niva, having been invited by editor-in-chief Yauhen Vapa. At the same time, she launched her own music program on Radio Racyja, which is still on the air today.
As for music, Ilona recorded an album with the metal band 5set5, which unfortunately released only one album. Then, in 2005, Ilo&Friends was founded.
— We simply met a group of musicians at an event held in memory of the Białystok documentary filmmaker Tamara Sołoniewicz, our interviewee recalls. We performed a few songs together and realized we enjoyed creating music as a group. That’s how it all began.
This year marks the band’s 21st anniversary. Ilo&Friends combines rock, acoustic and progressive influences in its music.
Music and cultural management came together naturally in Ilona’s next position, when she was invited to join the team at the Podlasie Opera and Philharmonic.
— For some time we worked in the Podlasie Philharmonic building, and later moved into the Opera House itself. I spent six years there and was involved in a great many projects, Ilona recalls.
Among other things, she became one of the founders of Halfway Festival, a major city event dedicated to singer-songwriter and alternative music that attracted performers from around the world. Ilona also invited Belarusian bands, including Shuma, Navi, Ludzi Na Bałocie, .K and Intelligency.
— Even before 2020, we managed to organize a concert by the Minsk Philharmonic Orchestra in Białystok. Our production of Carmen also traveled to the Minsk Opera Forum. For us, that was a real breakthrough in cultural cooperation with Belarus, recalls the head of the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok.
After leaving the Opera House, Ilona spent several years at the private cultural institution NieTeatr, which last year received the Białystok Mayor’s Artistic Award (Nagroda Artystyczna Prezydenta Miasta Białegostoku) in recognition of its contribution to shaping the city’s cultural landscape.
She was then invited, as a cultural manager, to join the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok.
“Looking back at my life, I realize that Belarusian identity has always been part of it,” she reflects. “Through the language, through my grandparents, through Niva, which my grandfather used to read, through the Belarusian Lyceum in Hajnówka, through Basovišča, whose legend my uncles kept alive, through the Belarusian community in Warsaw, through the cultural events we organized… I wanted to be part of all of it.”
Ilona believes her distinct identity has only worked to her advantage.
— “If you understand culture, history and speak the language, how can that be a bad thing? Without all of that, I would never have written articles in Belarusian for Niva, I would never have worked at the Opera House, and I would never have been invited to NieTeatr or to the Belarusian Culture Center in Białystok,” she says.
Ilona adds that she has always felt at home in this space — on the path of Belarusian culture.
“In my case, my minority became my majority,” she says.
At the end of our conversation, I ask Ilona about that very song based on Ales Razanau’s poem “On This Earth,” in which the poet describes the unique condition of Belarusians living “between East and West.”
Ilona replies that there was nothing accidental about choosing that poem.
— “It reflects the way I see the world,” she says.