I hide, you hide, he hides, she hides, we hide, you hide, they hide… In the corner, beneath the table, inside a wardrobe, under a tree, in a hole, beneath a blanket, among the clouds… What is a hiding place? Is it a safe space that protects us from every danger? Or is it a dangerous space that cannot protect us from ourselves? My initial search led me to a tree - more specifically, to the spruce tree we had at home. We used to run beneath it, keep our toys there, and spend hours underneath its branches because it was enormous. Yet there were also strange, even unsettling moments that we did not want anyone to witness. As a result, what had once seemed like a “safe” space became an unpredictable place where we could test one another. A person in hiding carries many emotions, but what fascinated me most was the sense of fragility, instability, and invisibility. It was as though the human body gradually became an object - a porcelain vase resting on a table, perfectly blending into the living room. In the natural environment, however, this very fragility becomes a disadvantage, making discovery all the more likely. I was inspired by Czech folk motifs found on porcelain vases, translating them into fragments of the human body - feet and heads - in the paintings Wanted and The Potential Death of a Leccinum. With each painting I sought to preserve the uncanny atmosphere of the outdoor environment.
