More in ‘Kazimierz’

In the early 1920s, Polish photographer Witold Chrominski took a panoramic shot of Szeroka Street, the central artery that leads into the main square of Krakow’s Jewish quarter, the Kazimierz. In the photo, the square is packed shoulder to shoulder with Jews, men in hats and long wool coats, women wrapped in shawls lugging stuffed shopping bags. It is a scene that bursts with life: you can hear the hum of conversations, the shuffling of weary feet, the shouts of vendors. Today, that same square bursts with a different kind of life and is mostly visited by tourists who’ve come to see the place that was once full of all of those Jews. It is a vibrant place these days, to be sure, but when you stand in the middle of it and think of that photograph, the square’s enduring emptiness is stunning.

It is late night in Kazimierz, the Jewish Quarter, and we have just lined up outside of a club for an hour and a half to gain access to a smoke-filled basement for the midnight show. The crowd is boisterous and heaving, surging forward to get closer to front. Behavior typical if a pop ...