Exactly 50 years ago, the first residents of Gdańsk’s box-fresh Zaspa housing estate were making themselves at home, completely unaware that they had just moved into what would later become one of the largest open-air art galleries in Europe.
What greeted them must have felt visionary. Designed by a team led by Roman Hordyński, the architects had been inspired by Toulouse’s Le Mirail, an ambitious housing scheme whose high-rise blocks had been linked together in a hexagonal, beehive-style pattern.
Replicating this style in Zaspa, the different towers were angled so as not to gaze directly towards each other, but instead to stare out over the generous expanses of open greenery.

Living at Pilotów 17 for most of the 1980s, it was during Wałęsa’s stint in Zaspa that the trade union he led, Solidarity, would spearhead the collapse of Communism in Poland.

Yet despite its fleeting moment in the spotlight, by the 1990s Zaspa had largely sunk into anonymity. To all intents and purposes, it had become just another faceless urban sprawl - that is, until art interceded.

Coming at a time when street art was considered something of an unknown quantity, and pre-dating the widespread adoption of the internet, the challenges were significant. Even so, the project’s coordinators were able to convince artists from Poland, the U.S., Lithuania, and Mexico to visit the city and paint ten murals in Zaspa.

According to some, Bondarczyk’s mural was actually meant as a subtle homage to Lech Wałęsa’s kiss with his wife Danuta, a moment famously caught on camera by the photographer Chris Niedenthal in 1980.
With many of the murals referencing the city’s history, it came as no surprise to find that two years later another was added featuring the faces of Pope John Paul II and Lech Wałęsa. Arousing plenty of controversy at the time, its detractors viewed the comic book depiction of the pope as verging on the blasphemous.

Covering a broad range of themes and topics, one mural by the Italian artist Ozmo, was painted to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Poland’s first rock concert which had been held in 1959 in Gdańsk’s Rudy Kot club.

As one expects in Poland, patriotic outbursts are not uncommon either and the smorgasbord of murals include a striking tribute to the doomed defenders of the Westerplatte Peninsula. One more is a respectful nod to the 303 Squadron, a Polish fighter unit that fought with great distinction in the Battle of Britain.

Again we see Wałęsa, this time adorning the side of his old apartment. Painted as if pixelated, the style was chosen to reference the often indistinct road that led to Poland’s freedom.

In this regard, few murals charm more than ‘the caretaker’. On an otherwise gray and soulless wall, a small figure of a janitor can be seen sweeping the ground. Eulogizing the everyday heroes that make the world tick, the mural feels like a discreetly hidden Easter egg - its discovery delights.

Doing more than just sprinkle color on the estate, the murals have lent Zaspa a unique personality and sense of being - a purpose and a place in this booming city.
