If covid has put your travel ambitions on ice, then swap your weekend in Paris for a prowl of Mokotowska…
28.08.2023
If covid has put your travel ambitions on ice, then swap your weekend in Paris for a prowl of Mokotowska…
Back in those golden years of the inter-bellum, Warsaw famously became known as ‘the Paris of the East’. We all know what happened next, but while much of the city center found itself flattened courtesy of the Wehrmacht, Mokotowska survived and today offers one of the best existing examples of the capital’s pre-war vibe. Distinguished by its tall, teetering tenements and designer boutiques, it offers a cosmopolitan slice of glamor that’s impossible to resist – even more so than on those misty winter days when its warming shopfronts glow in the grainy January air.
Also known as that bit of Mokotowska no-one really visits, the street’s bottom south-westerly corner does a fine job of surmising the jarring contrasts to be found around modern Warsaw. Marking the very beginning of the street, the 60-meter Zebra Tower feels rare for the city: a contemporary skyscraper that does little to offend or attract the attention. Likened by some critics to “a dancing woman in a flowing dress”, it’s a curvy, discreet wonder that stands against the skyline as if it were an outsized sculpture.
But if the Zebra is representative of Warsaw’s contemporary and consumerist face, then consider it counter-balanced by the building opposite at Mokotowska 4/6. Once the Engineering School Hipolit Wawelberg and Stanisław Rotwand, it was at this address that scouts involved in Poland’s wartime resistance destroyed several lists naming those that risked deportation. Destroyed towards the tail-end of the conflict, it was rebuilt after in typically bumptious Socialist Realist style. Subsequently revived to house the Trade Union of Ceramics Construction Workers and Related Professions, today relics of the Communist era survive by way of the two monuments that sit above the entrance. Sculpted by Alina Szapocznikow, and depicting two chisel-jawed proles holding hefty books, these statues are a blast to the past, not to mention one of the earliest examples of the artist’s work. Passing from cancer in 1973, Szapocznikow has since been posthumously recognized as one of the nation’s greatest ever artists.
Walking towards Zbawiciela you pass the scaffold-clad rump of the Church of the Holiest Savior. Though easily identified by its soaring twin towers, it took years for these to be rebuilt following the war – with this area falling inside the socialist showcase MDM district, it was thought that the towers would detract from the Utopian ideals presented by this reborn district. Indeed, only after Socialist Realism died a death did work commence on raising them again.
All things considered, the church’s role in Warsaw’s story has not been immodest. During the war services were held here for Jews in hiding, while in 1946 a funeral was held for unknown victims of the Warsaw Uprising – over five tons of ashes were blessed before being transported for burial inside 117 coffins. In more recent times, the church also played a prominent role in the rainbow saga. Ah, yes, the rainbow…
For the benefit of newcomers, Zbawiciela’s glory years came a decade ago when even the New York Times chose to pen a story about the area’s hipster revolution. The cradle of this was Zbawiciela, and at its center stood a rainbow composed of 22,300 artificial. Peaking at a height of nine-meters, it infuriated the traditionalists for both its LGBT connotations and its proximity to the church. Branded a national perversion by some, it fell victim to arsonists seven times, most infamously when it was torched by rampaging nationalists during the 2013 Independence Day riots. Finally, it was dismantled for good in 2015.
Still, remnants of Zbawiciela’s headiest of days survive in the form of the late night classic Plan B bar. Next door, meanwhile, Charlotte – founded in 2011 – can rightly claim to be one of the most revolutionary food and drink venues in modern times. Joining bread with wine over a communal table, this simple act changed the very way Warsaw socialized. Still referred to as Plac Hipstera by some misty-eyed nostalgists (for a while that title even appeared on Google Maps), Pl. Zbawiciela continues to play an important role in the city’s evening identity.
Looming over Zbawiciela, the immense dimensions of the tenement at Mokotowska 12 can’t be ignored. Completed in 1910, the 38-meter tall building was briefly the tallest residential structure in Warsaw, and widely celebrated for its luxury – among its frills, there were elevators, laundry services, ensuite bathrooms and even a top-floor solarium under a glazed glass dome.
It was this latter feature that appealed to Aleksander Herz, a socialist bank manager that returned to Warsaw after a stint in Russian exile to found the Sfinks film studio in 1913. Though this date is disputed by some, the impact of Herz is not open to debate. Revolutionizing Polish cinema, it was he also that discovered Pola Negri. Then known as Apolonia Chalupec, she would later successfully conquer America and become the first European to be contracted by Hollywood. Becoming one of the most popular actresses in the world, she would later delight the gossip columns with torrid affairs with names such as Chaplin and Valentino. And to think, for her it all started here at Mokotowska 12.
Often bathed in darkness, the section between Zbawiciela and Koszykowa has a habit of being overlooked by those that walk Mokotowska. But not so fast! Appearing like a diamond in the rough, the Cukrowników Palace at No. 25 is a dazzle of mock Rococo. Reputedly rebuilt to its current form around about 1912, this courtyard palace was once occupied by a sugar firm whose board added crazy little flourishes such as rooftop cupids and gallivanting bunnies. Later seconded by the Gestapo, it was their tenancy that ultimately saved it from destruction while much of Warsaw burned. Still looking glorious, nowadays its home to the Adam Mickiewicz Institute.
And how’s this one for trivia nerds: in 1914, one of the earliest recorded fatal car accidents in Warsaw occurred right outside Mokotowska 33. Careering around at an absolutely lunatic speed of 50 kilometers per hour, the driver, a 51-year-old teacher and children’s author, skidded out-of-control and was killed on the spot.
To all intents and purposes, it’s on this stretch that Mokotowska heats up to feature little boutiques and fancy-looking florists. And take note all budding members of the paparazzi: speaking a few years back to the French supplement Madame Figaro, catwalk queen Anja Rubik revealed that the planet’s best pastries were to be found at Słodki Słony (Mokotowska 48).
Facing opposite, on the other side of a former underground public toilet, don’t miss Skwer Batalionu AK Ruczaj. Filling a triangular space where Mokotowska and Piękna intersect, this small plot was once filled with tenements. Gutted during Uprising, such was the ferocity of the fighting that two informal ceasefires were arranged to clear the dead bodies. After the war, in a rare triumph for socialist planning, it was decided to turn the area into a memorial park, though even so it faced a new battle in 2011 when plans were mooted to build a skyscraper on this space. Thankfully, common sense prevailed.
As your tour of Mokotowska winds towards its conclusion, cross Wilcza keeping an ear out for odd, creepy noises: home to one of Warsaw’s most long-running hauntings, residents have complained of flowers withering, women cackling and floors bleeding ever since a banker was murdered on the first floor in 1915. Others, meanwhile, have reportedly sighted a baleful German officer wandering around.
Alternatively, immerse yourself in culture by dipping into the pocket-sized Bęc Zmiana, an independent bookstore specializing in artsy books and Warsaw-related ephemera. After, poke your nose into the courtyard of No. 65, first passing the bearded gnomes that stand guard at the courtyard’s gateway (they’re there to protect against horse carriage wheels in those days before Uber). Gritty and grimy, its in ensuing yard that you’ll get a sense of Mokotowska before it rained money. An intriguing glimpse into the way things once were, note also the elaborate courtyard shrine – during Nazi occupation, shrines such as this served as meeting points and al fresco chapels.
