Miloš Šejn

“It happened sometime around sixth or seventh grade. I somewhat got into the biology study room in our room and there I found an incredible thing. I know exactly what it is today – it is called Kněžourek’s Big Atlas of Birds. It is composed of two books which I actually found only much later. But the main part of this art piece are lithographic color printing tables of all European birds, including those species which only rarely fly to our country. I was so fascinated by it that I began creating my own atlas. I made some sort of duplicates of those tables, retaining the original dimensions. I would secretly let myself get locked in that study room during lessons, and draw small sketches of birds which I would then arrange together at home. They were virtually just pencil-written notes and since many birds have a very complicated systems of coloration, those are sketches in which various parts of the birds’ bodies include written descriptions on the specific color tones. At present, I see these as incredible things on the border of visual poetry.”

“First, I abolished the traditional idea of capturing landscapes by either using one’s memory or, being out in plein air, having a canvas on the stand and capturing whatever one sees in front of him. My fundamental gesture included abolishing the stand. The canvas lost its frame, it was put down on the ground and the depiction of the landscape became a sort of a map of my relationship to the place. It was about me being present there and somehow seizing the place. Moreover, I progressively realized the importance of me being there, of my body. That relationship between the body and the place. In some of my later works I then worked with the body on purpose and in some other works I worked on purpose with the place. And since at the turn of the 1980s and 1990s I adopted new media, I eventually reached an idea of something total which I call the transparent body.”

“Thanks to him I learned about a newspaper advert and a deadline for applications for the job which was about to be the next day. And he told me to do something about it. So I called the number at once. Immediately someone from the student strike committee picked it up and told me: ‘Ok, that’s fine, come tomorrow.’ In the evening I collected my entire portfolio. I was always keeping good track of my works so I had a large portfolio. When I arrived to Prague I walked towards the Academy of Fine Arts which I knew from very different contexts. I was just about to grab the handle from the main door but then it itself started opening. The door opened and Milan Grygar walked out of the building. I knew him because I prepared one of his exhibitions. He told me: ‘Art can’t be taught. I wish you best of luck.’”