Interview with the Production Designer Romke Faber of ‘When F***ing Spring is in the Air’

How did you create the visual world of ‘When F***ing Spring is in the Air‘ to enhance the themes of abandonment and identity?

The concept of “Euro-orphans” deeply resonated with me, especially since I had a two-year-old son at the time. It made me aware of the freedoms and privileges we have in the Netherlands. Kasia’s search for her parents, who abandoned her, was the starting point for the design. I began by gathering images and creating symbolic sketches that embodied the story’s themes. These served as a foundation for my communication with Danyael. 

We visually emphasized Kasia’s sense of abandonment by placing her in locations where she appeared small compared to her overwhelming surroundings. This sense of isolation was also reflected in the contrast between Kasia’s modest room at her Babcia’s house and the wealth-filled room of her sister. The quest for identity is not only portrayed through Kasia but is also evident in every character, making it a shared experience for the makers and the audience. 

Capitalism brings with it materialism, which often contributes to a sense of identity. We played with this concept, showing that Kasia has, in fact, very little—just the clothes she wears and her Babcia’s house. The world of the film was designed to either starkly contrast with or complement Kasia’s emotional state. For example, Kasia celebrates Polish traditions in a small blue van with her sister, but when she confronts her father in Amsterdam, she rebels against everything he represents. The design works to strengthen Kasia’s personal journey, both in grand locations and small details like a photo album.

What specific challenges did designing sets for a film set in three different countries present?

From the beginning, it was clear that this film was a passion project for Danyael, very personal to him. However, the budget constraints meant that we had to be resourceful with the existing locations. My usual approach to production design involves significant adjustments to achieve the strongest visual storytelling, but this time, I had to work within the limitations.

The challenge was finding the most suitable locations in Poland, Germany, and the Netherlands while maintaining a cohesive visual narrative. This involved multiple trips to Poland and Germany, examining numerous locations. Since the story is closely tied to Danyael’s personal history in Gdynia, his input was invaluable in ensuring the locations matched his vision.

The narrative motivation for the design of different sets became clear in these discussions. We wanted Kasia to live with her Babcia in a very simple environment, visually supporting the hopelessness of their existence. This was contrasted with the luxurious home of Kasia’s mother in Hamburg, where her sister lives in wealth, and then with her father’s place in Amsterdam, which represented an even higher level of luxury—a posh house, expensive car, etc.

How did you use the environment of Gdynia, Poland, to reflect Kasia’s inner conflicts and journey?

For me, the design process involves two key elements: discussions with the director and thorough research. Given Danyael’s history in Gdynia, I had several conversations with him and spent time in the city to understand the version of it we were creating. Online research also played a role in identifying specific areas that would externalize Kasia’s inner journey.

I tried to look for elements in locations such as architecture, size, materials, textures, and the placement of locations in relation to their surroundings. These elements externalize a character’s inner journey. In my collaboration with Danyael, we often discussed these elements without explicitly naming them, but we both understood why a particular location would work for the story.

Gdynia, a port city with a vast harbor area, provided the perfect backdrop for Kasia’s continuous movement and inner turmoil. She lives in a neighborhood where buildings are being demolished around her, symbolizing the destruction of the past and the encroachment of capitalism over communism.

How did the production design contribute to creating a modern yet melancholic atmosphere?

The design balanced modernity and melancholy, reflecting the clash between capitalism and communism. Capitalism represents individualism, while communism represents the collective. Kasia is part of a family that has fallen apart without her knowing. The contrast between her longing for a warm, traditional family and the reality of her fragmented, modern family is central to the design.

We constantly sought locations that, when connected in the film, would support this concept. The inner conflict that lives within Kasia—her desire for a warm family, father, mother, tradition, and security, versus the confrontation with a totally modern, fragmented family—is reflected in these locations. The mother is remarried, with another daughter and twins. The father lives with his boyfriend in a luxury home in the Netherlands. The echo of traditional Catholic Poland, seen in Babcia’s home, contrasts with the disastrous consequences for Kasia’s father, and consequently, for Kasia herself.

The choice of locations was crucial, as we had limited opportunities to make adjustments. The right locations, combined with minimal but impactful design changes, created a visual language that supported Kasia’s journey.

What was your approach to designing the spaces that reflect the different stages of Kasia’s journey and development?

Kasia’s eyes gradually open to new realities through what she discovers on her journey from Poland to Germany, to the Netherlands, and back again. The design plays with exaggeration and subtlety. Sometimes, you want to be clear, like in the opening of the film, where you follow Kasia walking through parts of the city that clearly show the world she inhabits—a small person against a large, harsh world. Other times, there’s a delicate scene between her and her boyfriend, which is very sweet, soft, and subtle. Balancing these extremes was key to how we approached the locations and their design.

A house in Hamburg, where Kasia first rings the bell thinking she’ll find her mother and then storms inside, carries a certain coldness and anonymity. That’s exactly what was needed at that moment. The scene where Kasia argues with her sister on the return journey on a highway bridge at night, with traffic rushing past, captures both the intimacy of the moment and the vastness of the objective world around them. Everything is moving fast… but they are standing still.

How did you collaborate with the costume designer to ensure that the costumes and sets were aligned?

Unfortunately, Lare and I didn’t have as much contact as I would have liked due to practical constraints, including the pandemic. She was working from Poland early on, and we both had our hands full with our respective tasks. Ideally, we would have collaborated more closely, but the circumstances made it challenging.

What elements of the design do you consider most crucial to the storytelling?

The core goal is to create a believable world where the actors can move naturally. Locations, props, color, texture, and light all play a role in achieving this. It’s about the “why” behind everything seen on screen, combined with an intuitive sense of what feels right. The world we create together needs to feel right, both for us as creators and for the audience. Research is a significant part of the process, both practical and conceptual, and it informs the design choices we make.

How did Polish culture and history influence your design process for this film?

Working with the Polish art department was inspiring. The professionalism and experience they brought significantly enhanced the visual strength of the Polish segments of the film. Danyael’s knowledge of Polish culture, combined with our research, provided a unique perspective on the design.

Visiting Gdynia with Danyael for location scouting helped me understand the design’s direction. Being on the ground, among the old communist-era buildings and hearing stories from Polish colleagues, all contributed to the approach we took for the film’s design.