Soon after sculpting my Stuttering Philosopher, I made this head, nearly twice life-size. Being in my early twenties, I was not too familiar with cynicism, but I knew enough not to merely make this man a sneering cynic who attempts to undermine everyone's enthusiasm by being sour and envious. I attempted to show that this man, with the face like a tree twisted by the blow of night winds and a remnant smack of bitterness, might possibly know both sides of the dilemma. The expression is like a bruise caused by never slackening adversities; calamities which never look back to see if their victims remained crawling on all fours or resignedly awaited the coming of their last breath.

This is the only sculpture that Poland ever bought from me. The bronze cast is presently in the Bytom Museum. However, the original plaster sculpture for the casting was stolen from the Katowice government building where my works were stored by the Ministry of Art and Culture.

A comment should be made here about the basic difference between sculpture and painting. While the painter has many elements with which to convey his message to the canvas, like a darkly tainted moment of gloom, or the brightly joyous mood of Youth, the entire prism of emotional shadings, and tremendous distances by means of perspective, the sculptor is limited only to the three-dimensional form. While the painter may use various brush-strokes that belong to effectiveness, even suspend some strokes in the air, the sculptor must keep his form neat and sequently joined with surrounding forms in mathematically logical continuity. Under no circumstance can he use painters tricks, effects and appetizers, for that would outright... disqualify him as a sculptor. He, compared to the painters freedom of any means of expressing thought, adheres to the same enforced condition as the gestures of the mute.

But, there is justice for the sculptor which compensates him for his professional limits. While the painting has its mood petrified forever, and can be reproduced faithfully in only one phase of presentability, the sculpture, though monochromatic, can be photographed in a million different ways, from a million directions all around. It can also be photographed and seen in different lighting creating millions of effects. The change in direction or color of light completely alters sculpture, while the greatest masterpiece in painting can be photographed only once. Thus while the painter has the whole gamut of tricks to work with, the sculptor has one additional element, which is time. His masterpiece, even centuries from now, can be seen in still another light and then another multiplication of directions. Look at the adjacent photographs of the same sculpture, and note that you have two distinctly different sculptures. In fact, it would be possible to erect an entire museum dedicated to a million differently lighted photographs of the winged Victory of Samotrace and behold 2,000,000 victories.

This element of multiplicity of sculpture has not been commented upon before. Therefore, I am the first to bestow upon the sculptors the new, honorific title of the professional who constantly multiplies his works, even after his death.