After exploring some art exhibits, people feel bitter and the feeling lingers. This is not simple observation but the sudden awareness that what you are looking at relates to the paradoxical inability to fulfil oneself in one’s own culture, despite the fact that this phenomenon lives cozily and develops in another culture, bearing fruit if not for decades, then for at least many years.
An exhibit at Kyiv’s spacious art gallery Misto N [N City] is titled simply Czech Press Photography 2000 and the small black-and-white poster with the legend draws one’s attention with its documentary and creative quality. I remember all those World Press Photo exhibits during perestroika and their exciting effect of portraying a big-time life style somewhere out there beyond the Berlin Wall, with totally different dimensions where every moment had great importance, which we could glimpse looking at those unbelievably huge, clear, and dynamic picture. During the years of independence, having watched countless TV reports, bought armfuls of glossy magazines and tourist guides, and added landscapes from former socialist and Western countries to our family collections, we should have stopped wondering at the photographer’s mastery, taste, and firm resolve to hunt down the truth. I watched a documentary recently with scenes of people being executed by firing squads somewhere in Asia; for me, the most horrifying thing was a pretty young woman clicking her camera in a businesslike manner, showing no emotion except concern over finding a vantage point. The image still burns in my mind. And this passes for creativity.
Fortunately, there are no such shocking revelations in the Czech exhibits, although some of the photos are realistic without reservations, at times showing extreme situations. The topic of Reportage, Joseph Strougal’s photo Miss Striptease of the Town of Grdli showing a fashionably dressed blonde carefully holding a nude brown-haired girl who seems about to either faint or burst out crying. And the caption is good: “Winning isn’t easy, not even in this context...” Slavs, confronted by dramatic occurrences, inherently tend to cushion the impact. Czech culture retains some of the humor of its immortal Good Soldier Schweik. This exhibit was no exception. For example, the subject Politics includes a series of pictures called People We Talk About by photographer Alan Pagor. “So who are we? Yes, we’re white lions...” where the world’s most famous politicians being presented the Czech award, Order of the Eagle, look so very homely, like good neighbors, because there is no human emotion concealed by the mask of official pomp. And vice versa, the topic Science and Technology where you expect large-scale work, even with a touch of futurology, and see instead Borzovy Corny’s color photo A Big Eagle Owl with a Broken Wing, Town of Duba, Ceska Lipa. A doctor on his knee by the eagle owl, showing the bird an X-ray and examining it at the same time; the bird looks as intelligent and interested as the man.
A special charm is added to the exposition by music accompaniment: Jaromir Nahavica’s slow tunes from the album, The Strange Century, with their irony, nostalgia, melancholy, and trust. Time and again you hear mam ti rad, meaning I love you, but Ukrainian perception says it is addressed not to one’s sweetheart, but to the past century. And from that love, as strange as the past century, we have moments immortalized in photos.
Why feel bitter? Because the press release says the exposition, made up of works winning a contest, sixth running, organized by the Czech Photo Foundation, Journalists Union of the Czech Republic, and Prague Administration, involving very prestigious partners and sponsors, has been displayed in almost every country with Czech consular offices or diplomatic missions. In other words, Czech art photographers know about this contest and that they have a real chance to display even works that never found their way into newspapers or magazines; that their works will be examined by an international jury, meaning pecuniary awards, special prizes, and prestigious titles. In addition, they are sure that their works will be consistently promoted elsewhere in the world. This is a simple yet refined method of supporting one’s own culture. And what about Ukraine? What method can we use here to show our talent? Where is Ukrainian Press Photo? That is what makes one feel bitter.
