/day for night/
In 2004, the Velryba Gallery in Prague hosted an exhibition of two young artists, Filip Láb (b. 1976) and Bára Mrázková (b. 1978), entitled Americká noc (Day for Night). The artists jointly presented a series of eight large- format photographs (180 x 137cm and 115 x 89cm), accompanied by a relatively short, but quite witty and incisive video loop. As the artists themselves elucidated in a text introducing the presentation, they chose as their starting point the aesthetic of the 1980s. In some aspects, this is certainly not a ”rosy“ period, but it must be said that it is not entirely uninspiring, either. The artists' presentation of such artefacts was of decent quality, undoubtedly enhanced by their installation on the bare brick walls of the gallery, which seemed to underline their almost minimalist severity. The title of the exhibition itself, then, will not be unfamiliar to the initiated (”day for night“, or ”American night“ - in the literal translation from the Czech, is a cinematic approach in which night scenes are shot during the day), and rather aptly captures the melan- choly, and at times even tragic, message of the works on exhibit.This is especially true for the photographs, where the theme of emotional dislocation, fear and insecurity is felt most acutely. The images capture spaces long forsaken by human society, deprived both of life and their original beauty. If we attempt to decipher them, sooner or later it inevitably dawns on us that the suffering portrayed has been experienced not only by the landscape thus violated, but also by us - the people who have allowed such atrocity to take place. I would not go so far as to say that this was the primary intention of the authors, but such questions seem to me crucial for an understanding their work. Almost every photograph exhibited here thrusts these facts in your face. Overcast, grey scenes with the megalomaniac constructions of hangars, dilapidated and still smouldering ruins of once-inhabited buildings, now mere torsos standing as memorials to the locations of bygone everyday joys and concerns - all of this triggers a dark, bordering on morbid, game between good and evil, being and unbeing, hope and frustration. It is impossible not to play along, its outcome, however, will always depend solely on our own sense of responsibility and moral integrity, on the individual attitude of each of us. The figures captured in some of the /day for night/ 1102 photographs also address us and make a similar appeal. We see them either only as tiny components of the whole, a finishing touch to the frozen scene, and feel that it is them (or us) who become observers and at the same time critics of the situations presented here. In the thankless role of a viewer, however, we have no chance to ultimately establish what relation we want to take to this entirety, whether a critical stance, or merely a passive one, or even worse, one of total resignation. We gain little assistance from the other photographs that allow us to glimpse the faces of some figures, even if often just fleetingly and indirectly. The faces do not reflect hope, optimism, joy, or rage, but rather anxiety, fear and disappointment; that is to say, features characteristic of any kind of totalitarian society anywhere in the world. All the more appreciation is due to the artists who reawaken these sensations again in those of us who lived through this morass, and for whom the 1980s are as dark and abject as they are presented in the photographs of Filip Láb and Bára Mrázková twenty years later.
An interesting counterpoint to the photographs is the already men- tioned video installation Grauzone/Eisbär (length: 3 minutes 21 seconds) created in collaboration with the director Bořek Hořínek. The glittering trappings of a disco night enable us, just like long ago, to forget - if for a few brief moments - all that is negative. Undiscriminating, and with an inexhaustible energy, it brings to all of us at least an illusory, momentary catharsis. Yet the veneer is all too recognizable, and lurking behind it is nothing but emptiness, albiet wrapped in a sumptuous and glamorous veil.
If we wish to recognize the deeper message of any work of art, we must not limit ourselves to the contemplation of its formal aspects, but must also take into consideration its historical, political and social implications. Only then are we in a position to really understand the theme at hand. The Day for Night project managed to deal with all of these implications, and for that reason does not end only as a presen- tation of the artists' personal view or aesthetic sensibility, but as a statement of universal validity.