In 1978 Robakowski moved into a new flat in a newly-built highrise in the center of Łódź. That’s when he began filming the people and events he could see from his kitchen window. Part of the project that Robakowski called My Very Own Cinema, the film spans 20 years and is at once a humble recording and a monumental work – a splendid and individual work in the great-narrative vein, with an invisible, omniscient narrator in the manner of a classic 19th-century novel. “My Very Own Cinema is what I work on when nothing is working out.” (3) This unpretentious, seemingly simple work is filled with multiple layers of subtly wrought meanings. The naturalness of the apparently objective documentation of outside events proceeding at their own pace conceals a dense tangle of conventions, from which, paradoxically, a synthesis of authenticity emerges.