I suspect Karel was sent into the outer world on a special mission whose signification is known just to him, if to anyone. Civilized communication usually goes on as a dialogue between two souls and artists mostly conform to the rules and only occasionally go to the extremes.

Karel shorted that settled „circuit“ by a close connection of the soul and material. Connection so close that the material becomes the soul and vice versa. The world as an art material and the art itself he considers as a heap of unused possibilities, a crude material. He obviously does not intend to create neat final products. That also goes for social responsibility which he – as an artist, does not care about as well, which I find releasing. There are no visually effective symptoms of social maladies if I do not take into account situations when Karel Kunc manifestly exerts to make them appear. But he never acts as a therapist, neither the one who diagnoses nor the one who is going to cure. His strategic methods combine collector’s gluttony with asceticism bordering with self-flagellation. On the one hand he cumulates everything he sees and he never (I repeat: never!) throws anything away and at the same time he willingly torments himself with an exhausting physical labour or possibly draconian rules.

His entire work is actually kind of a peephole between here and there and for the viewer it is almost impossible to shove a finger through. On the other side there is no kindred spirit waiting, the one from elsewhere is perfectly indifferent and haughty. Through such hole, the eternity appears as something which is going to be here for ever, at least as a cycle of appearing and disappearing so it does not matter which side you look from.

Michaela Ivaniškinová





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