Exhibitions

IVAN PINKAVA. Symploké / συμπλοκή

With artistic commentary by: Robert Bielik, Julie Hayward, and Frenzi Rigling

Oct 23, 2026

Galerie Václava Špály, Praha, 23. 10. — 6. 12. 2026

Foreign words, which generally discourage the general public from reading artistic and scholarly texts, should not be a tool for pseudo-intellectual posturing, but rather an indispensable aid for describing phenomena that transcend everyday life. Art is precisely such a phenomenon in our lives, and therefore a basic vocabulary alone is not sufficient to explain what is taking place, for example, in Ivan Pinkava’s photographs. Unless certain terms—such as those from the poststructuralist lexicon—are used and repeated ad nauseam merely as a fashionable affectation, the search for the right expression to describe complex relationships within an artistic composition can lead us on an adventurous journey through time and space—a journey of intellectual discovery. Ivan Pinkava’s photography exhibition also invites us on such a journey, for in our effort to penetrate beyond the surface layer of his human bodies, accumulated materials, or atypical piles of objects, we transcend the categories of simple descriptions of beauty.

In Plato’s late dialogue *The Sophist*, we encounter the concept of interweaving (symploké), which has been unjustly neglected in art theory. The philosophical term symploké (“σύν” [syn-]—prefix: “with,” “together,” or “in unison” / “πλέκω” [plekó]—verb: “to knit,” “to entwine,” or “to weave”) can be used to describe the mutual connection, for example, between objective reality and subjective perception. At the core of this word lies the encounter between the unreal and the knowable, but also the encounter between an abstract idea and its materialized form. These confrontations constitute the very substance of every work of art. Ancient philosophy employed a textile metaphor to emphasize the benefits of combining seemingly disparate elements into a meaningful whole. Art often presents us with the difficult task of uncovering the code of internal connections within a tangle of external incompatibilities. However, it would be a mistake to assume that every work of art possesses such a disposition, just as it would be naïve to assume that every painting or sculpture necessarily seeks to express the complex aspects of human existence. Artists weave from the diverse threads of individual inspiration, yet the resulting fabric may also reveal their disparity. It is therefore all the more rare to discover a work whose power lies in how the artist has managed to weave an internally cohesive fabric from various strands of thought.

Ivan Pinkava’s photographs are aesthetically captivating, yet their form is not merely a self-serving exercise in construction and composition, nor is it a superficial conveyance of predictable content. Using an artistic language that he has refined over the years, Ivan Pinkava creates visual texts with a recognizable artistic signature; yet it is only between the imaginary lines—on a sort of intertextual level—that one can discover those rare connections, that is, the interweaving of surprising realities. The iconography of his works may tempt one to seek superficial analogies in art history and to attempt a simplistic deciphering of the message conveyed by the nude figure; yet the fact remains that behind the stylized poses of the photographed figures and the still lifes with their layered surfaces of various materials and textures lies a tension that is almost physically palpable. In dramatic lighting, bodies are staged just as much as mundane textile fragments, gathered fabrics, synthetic foams, chairs, furniture, plants, or tarps, boards, planks, and beams. Anonymous spaces of a liminal nature serve as the setting for a static moment of interweaving the concrete with the supernatural. It is fascinating how the polarity between the form of objects and the content of ideas is visualized in Ivan Pinkava’s photographs. The result is never merely a trivial object—a simple shot of a roll of foam or a spread-out carpet. Beyond the materiality of each of Ivan’s objective constructions lies a poetic dimension of being.

It is striking how Pinkava manipulates the human anatomy and, conversely, how he composes lifeless matter. In his extensive series of nudes—which are, in principle, portraits of subjects—we find, on the contrary, the essence of inanimate objectivity. It would be incorrect to claim that the male bodies in Ivan’s photographs are emptied forms, instrumentalized to passively fulfill random, static scenarios. Rather, it is a mythical transformation of the human being into other states of sensually perceived existence. To describe this phenomenon, we will draw on additional concepts such as cosmomorphism and anthropomorphism. For when the degree of human transformation reaches a level of almost soulless objectivity, we speak of cosmomorphism—that is, a situation in which a torso or limb becomes a compositional tool, a material serving a specific purpose. In the opposite process, Pinkava is able, through his photographs, to breathe character into ordinary objects—that Benjaminian aura of individual authenticity. In such cases, we speak of anthropomorphization—the humanization of inanimate objects. Each of these transformative phenomena in Pinkava’s work creates different prerequisites for understanding the resulting interweaving—the point at which a cohesive image emerges from disparate elements. To clarify the paths to understanding the meanings of these photographs, we will use a navigational system guided by the coordinates of three distinct artistic interventions by Robert Bielik, Julie Hayward, and Frenzy Rigling. In three distinct chapters, external elements corresponding to Pinkava’s photographs are situated, each within a different qualitative parameter and based on a different philosophical concept. The chapter Proskynésis / προσκύνησις explores the tension between the human figure and the ritualization of a historically significant gesture. The chapter Diafora / διαφορά examines the transformation of the body toward a cosmomorphic structure, and the chapter Paronymos / παρώνυμος reveals how Pinkava imprints a state of being onto non-human substances. If, after touring the three floors—and thus the three chapters—of the Špála Gallery, the interweaving—symploké—of the diverse elements in Pinkava’s works into a cohesive, meaning-rich picture becomes somewhat clearer, then the goal of this exhibition will have been achieved.

https://www.galerievaclavaspaly.cz/en/exhibition/symploke-sumplokh-1

Proskynésis / προσκύνησις

Art Commentary: Robert Bielik

Perhaps no culture or historical political entity is as closely associated with the concept of the image as the Byzantine Empire. In the Eastern Roman Empire, an extensive philosophical and theological system was built around the concept of the icon, which formed the backdrop for political events, social unrest, and even served as a defining element of allegiance to that monarchical system. Many debates and conflicts revolved around the concept of proskynesis / προσκύνησις, a term denoting a ceremonial expression of reverence. The simple gesture of kneeling encompasses a whole range of meanings—from religious prayer to a gesture of humility, to punishment and humiliation; from an expression of weakness to a sign of fatigue and submission; from meditation to awe at a sublime experience; from a romantic confession to an act of physical submission, from preparation for an attack to surrender to fate. Kneeling reflects a difference in value within a hierarchy as well as a showy pose that draws attention. Kneeling can be a preliminary step toward taking a step forward, but also the penultimate stage before lying down. The texts of the Neoplatonic philosophers agree that proskynesis is part of the ritual of venerating an image, but only if it does not cross the fine line between an expression of respect and idolatrous worship (λατρεία [latreia]). These concepts have not lost their significance even today, at a time when a single gesture can be interpreted in both relative and controversial ways, and when our society does not know whom to humbly honor, and instead produces new, dubious idols.

II. Diafora / διαφορά

Art Commentary: Julie Hayward

“Similarity” is apparently not a word that anyone would pause over because they don’t know its meaning, and yet it is a concept that is more problematic in philosophy than almost any other. For if we attempt to define clear rules for determining a general similarity between several mutually independent entities, we encounter an obstacle in the form of the vagueness of the basic quantitative criteria and qualitative parameters. The theory of signs (semiotics) therefore favors the concept of analogy, whose fundamental function is not to describe the points that are comparable between two different objects, but rather to identify their mutual differences. Diaphora / διαφορά denotes the essence of these differences, which makes it possible to specify other related properties that define the same kind. We can model inorganic, geometric shapes and position them in ways that evoke the human figure, but this does not alter the nature of their objective essence. Here, art has the ability to create images through analogies even in situations where we would otherwise find no similarities. Art materializes our ideas of animated objects and, conversely, deconstructs and subsequently reconfigures the human figure as if it were a building block.

III. Paronymos / παρώνυμος

Art Commentary: Frenzi Rigling

Aristotle uses the term paronymos / παρώνυμος in his theory of categories to refer to the derivation of names from other words. Photographs, paintings, and other works of art bestow a new identity—new names—on objects to which we would otherwise pay no attention. Through contextualization within a work of art, we endow textiles, old mattresses, boards, tiles, and other impersonal objects with unlikely, even subjective, characteristics. By composing them into aesthetic wholes and emphasizing their texture and color properties, even the most mundane materials come to life. However, artistic intervention in everyday materials and their surprising arrangement in new contexts do not merely give rise to anthropomorphic codes—that is, non-human shapes reminiscent of the human figure—but—as in the case of Pinkava’s photographs—above all, to unusual atmospheres. How ephemeral, fragile, fleeting, warm, even radiant, curtains, foam boards, and found and recycled pieces of clothing can appear—all it takes is to perceive them in a different light and in a different situation. In abstract compositions, the revelation of a human trace is the central motif, because it is precisely this that fills the anonymous scene with life.