The photographs by Katarína Brunclíková present an original vision of a blue-green world, which is full of chilling beauty and soaked with anxiety. Human beings move in it as though they were dreaming, as though they were shrouded in a dreamy mist of the world through the looking-glass. They are lonely, and living on their own, they live a life of mechanical entities in their strangely odd space they have made themselves. True to the spirit of the place where they were taken, these photographs echo the Golem and Franz Kafka, and what the genius loci does is a mere change of the background scenery with the passing of time. Today, the stage prefers a partition of elegant curves reflecting new substances. But let’s not be misled. The roots of this place remain hidden somewhere deep and invisible, unveiling themselves only to the sensitive observer.
What they reveal is absolutely overwhelming. They make us become witnesses to the essence of ourselves, to the question of who we are, where we are going and what has happened to us.
And what is the photographer’s approach to this world? She does not impose anything, she holds no lectures, she instils no morals. She only describes this world through sensitive lenses of her camera. And then, at one particular moment, she presses the release, steps aside and presents us with a second that, in the meanwhile, has become eternity.