How to identify a Jesuit from photographs
Today, we sit virtually beside the archivist to understand how one can identify a person in a photograph and restore a name to a face.
It is not uncommon for an archivist to have to attribute a name to an individual portrayed in a photograph, often relying on few or minimal clues to guide the investigation. Sometimes, these clues come from the source itself or from the archival collection in which the photograph is preserved.
Some time ago, during the reorganisation of a photographic series, the archivist came across an album unlike the others. Though it was initially described in the inventory, it later warranted greater attention and further investigation. Today’s instalment recounts the development of that research.
A Mysterious Album
Within the photographic series of the Veneto–Milanese Province lies a mysterious album—number 14. At first glance, its contents appear distinct from the other albums in the first part of the series.
The other albums contain photographs taken and collected by Jesuits from various communities in the Province: Lonigo, Gallarate, Padua, Reggio Emilia, Roncovero. These images portray Jesuits during different moments of daily life: apostolic work, study, and the brothers preparing meals. They also document significant events such as missionary days, missionaries’ departures, and the opening of a residence.
This particular album, however, appears to be a personal collection belonging to a Jesuit—a foreign Jesuit, judging by the captions accompanying the photographs, all written in the same handwriting. We do not know his identity, as the album does not bear a name, which is not unusual. After all, when as children we compiled an album of a school trip or a special event, did we inscribe our name on it? At most, the more meticulous among us might have noted dates or places in the captions.
It is not the first time we have encountered photographs seemingly unrelated to the producing institution or the funds in which they were found—such was the case with photographs taken in Ukraine. This time, however, the album clearly belonged to a specific individual, who appears in many of its photographs.
What the Source Tells Us
The captions, written in Polish—many with Italian translations—suggest that the Jesuit was likely Polish. It is plausible that the album’s owner himself wrote the captions, although this cannot be confirmed. The first photographs, taken on the day of his First Communion, depict his family: the captions identify his mother, a brother, a sister, many cousins, aunts and uncles.
As we leaf through the album, we encounter a Nazi-era stamp affixed to the photograph of a cousin. These may have been ID photographs removed from official documents and later added to the album.
Like any source, the album reveals much about its owner—or at least its compiler. Some information is already provided in the captions, such as the date of First Communion, 25 August 1929, and the date of entrance into the novitiate, which we deduce from a photograph taken “a few days before entering the Society of Jesus,” dated July 1936. We learn that one of the Jesuit’s brothers, “Mieciu,” was taken to Germany in 1942 for forced labour. The Jesuit himself was also imprisoned in a concentration camp. Several photographs taken in Dachau are preserved; one caption, describing the entrance building, reads:
The main entrance to the Dachau concentration camp, called “the gate of hell,” for it was an entry point with no exit. This photograph was taken after the liberation by the American army on 29 April 1945.
In one image, the Jesuit wears the concentration camp uniform of dark and light stripes. The caption states that the photograph was taken two years after he left the camp. Other photographs depict the so-called “Polish barrack” and that of the “Polish priests,” some dated as early as 3 May 1945—just days after the camp’s liberation on 29 April. The names of several Polish Jesuits imprisoned at Dachau are listed. These are, indeed, invaluable sources.
Life After the Second World War
The Jesuit later collected a series of postcards depicting the city of Rome, St Peter’s Basilica, the Colosseum, and Pope Pius XII. Unfortunately, they are firmly glued into the album, preventing any inspection of potential inscriptions on the reverse. This collection was not mere cultural interest in the Eternal City—this Jesuit had indeed lived in Rome. Other photographs show him with the dome of St Peter’s in the background or near the Monument to the Unknown Soldier in Piazza Venezia, accompanied by other fellow Jesuits. One is named: Fr Simone Silvani, a Jesuit of the Roman Province. These clues suggest that our Polish Jesuit lived in Rome for a time, likely between the post-war years and the 1950s, judging by clothing styles and hairstyles.
The album also includes postcards of Montecassino Abbey before and after its destruction, the Polish military cemetery, and the monument of the Fifth Polish Division in the same city. He appears to have had a connection to Abruzzo: the album includes a postcard from Campo di Giove, a paragraph from the Enciclopedia Italiana Treccani describing the Maiella, and photographs with confrères in the mountains and with a group of boys—likely boarding students—though captions do not specify. Nearby, an Abruzzese folk song is transcribed in dialect. Other postcards depict Valsaviore and landscapes of Cevo, where the Society of Jesus had a small residence, mainly used for summer camps and retreats. Four pressed edelweiss flowers are also preserved—perhaps collected by the Jesuit himself during excursions with students.
Tracing a Name
How, then, can we identify the album’s owner?
One possible method in such cases is to consult colleagues at the historical archives of the Province. Poland remains divided into two Jesuit provinces: Greater and Lesser Poland. However, it is difficult to identify a Jesuit solely from a photograph. An archivist, through years of biographical research, may grow familiar with numerous individuals and recognise them easily. Even our readers have become accustomed to the appearances of certain Jesuits frequently mentioned in this series, such as the brothers Giuseppe and Carlo Massaruti or Rocci. Our own archives, however, hold about ten thousand personal files—one for each Jesuit. Before reaching out to colleagues with a vague question like “Do you know who this Jesuit is?”, it is advisable to gather as much information as possible to help narrow the search. The more precise the data provided, the higher the likelihood of success—especially when the query comes from a fellow archivist.
Let us begin with the scant but valuable data the album provides. The Jesuit is shown as a child on the day of his First Communion in 1929, likely between 7 and 11 years of age, based on the age for receiving the sacrament and the appearance of the child. Even more useful is the caption accompanying a photograph taken shortly before entering the novitiate in July 1936. We know, therefore, that the Jesuit entered the Society of Jesus after July 1936. Unfortunately, it is difficult to ascertain his age at the time of entry: the photograph shows one boy around 15 and an older youth, with the caption mentioning “with brother and sister,” meaning the Jesuit could be either sibling.
We first checked how many Jesuits entered both Polish provinces in the summer of 1936. We cannot exclude either province, so both must be considered.
Our search in the Greater Poland Province from 15 July to the end of 1936 yielded 22 entries, 6 of whom as coadjutors. Among the scholastic novices, we excluded two who entered already ordained—too old to be the child in the 1929 photo. The Lesser Poland Province added 12 novices, totalling 34 individuals. Given our uncertainty about which brother in the photo became the Jesuit, we included those aged 15 to early twenties in 1936. We excluded one candidate aged 37 in 1936, too old to be 7–11 in 1929.
We were left with 33 individuals. To narrow the field, we cross-referenced this list with two life events: imprisonment in Germany (certainly in 1945, possibly earlier) and time spent in Rome after the war—exact dates unknown.
The album provides additional names: Polish Jesuits imprisoned at Dachau and photographed in the camp. Examining catalogues from that period is problematic: Greater Poland published none between 1940 and 1945; Lesser Poland issued a single catalogue for the entire war period. These sources confirm that many Polish Jesuits were prisoners in Germany, including at Dachau. Of the 42 Jesuits photographed in Dachau, 18 are listed in the Lesser Poland catalogue, but this does not advance our investigation significantly, as we cannot confirm whether our Jesuit appears in that photo.
To summarise: we are searching for a Polish man who received Communion in 1929, entered the novitiate between July and December 1936, was imprisoned at Dachau at least in 1945, lived in Rome post-war, and likely had ties to the Veneto–Milanese Province, as his album is housed in its archives and references Cevo.
Let us make a new attempt a few years later in time, and check how many and which Polish Jesuits are present in the Roman province, particularly in Rome in the chronological span from 1949 to 1959. There are many.
A Breakthrough in the Investigation
By cross-referencing this profile with Polish Jesuits present in the Roman Province—especially in Rome—from 1949 to 1959, we identified a single match: Fr Janicki Stanisław, born 10 October 1919, thus aged 10 at his First Communion in 1929; he entered the novitiate at Kalisz (Greater Poland Province) on 15 July 1936—shortly after the photograph with his siblings. He lived in Rome for decades until his death on 26 February 1994. In the personal file held by the Italian Province, there are no documents from his novitiate, as he was never officially transferred to the Roman or Italian Provinces. Therefore, his official papers remain in Poland. Unfortunately, no photographs are preserved in this file—something that would have helped confirm his identity. However, his personal data sheet notes that he arrived in Rome on 15 July 1945. The file contains only a few letters from superiors and the Provincial, but these confirm he lived at the Massimo residence and often accompanied students on trips—one to Vico di Fassa in the mountains. Further verification in the magazine Gesuiti della Provincia d’Italia provided definitive evidence: the obituary of Fr Janicki, published in issue no. 2 (1995), pages 61–62. Written by fellow Jesuit Fr Giuseppe Giannella, it recounts Janicki’s arrest by the Germans in Lublin on 23 November 1939, his internment in various camps, including Dachau, where he remained from 1940 until liberation on 29 April 1945. He then came to Rome in mid-July and undertook various apostolic works.
Fr Giannella also notes that Janicki never wished to speak of his experience in the concentration camps.
Restoring a Name to a Face
Having formed a hypothesis that strongly suggests the Jesuit’s identity, we contacted the historical archives of the Society of Jesus in Poland to seek confirmation. What we lacked was a youthful photograph of Fr Janicki to compare with the images in the album, although all other data matched.
We emailed Dr Katarzyna Trzcińska, the archivist of the Greater Poland Province in Warsaw. Her reply came within minutes.
While her archives do not contain a young photo of Janicki, they do include one of him as an adult—identical to the man portrayed in one of the album’s final photographs. He is: Fr Janicki Stanisław. The Jesuit’s identity has been restored. Dr Trzcińska added that few documents relating to Fr Janicki survive in their archives—particularly none from the wartime period.
The album thus preserves the only surviving testimony of the Jesuit during his imprisonment—a time about which he never spoke.
One question remains unanswered: how did Fr Janicki’s personal album end up in the photographic series of the Veneto–Milanese Province? It is hard to say. Perhaps he forgot it in Cevo or another residence in northern Italy during a school trip. Perhaps he carried it with him, adding photos over time. On the other hand, perhaps he gave it to a fellow Jesuit as a gift. It certainly served as a personal memorial—for family, fellow Jesuits, students, and for a dark chapter of his life, one he chose never to speak of but silently commemorated through these photographs.
Only the Jesuit himself could answer this question. Now that we have restored a name to his face, we can allow the mystery of the album’s final resting place to remain unresolved.
So here we come to the conclusion of today’s episode, one of many possible examples of how a Jesuit can be identified from his photos and the little information they often provide us with.
Maria Macchi
