Ah, the strong, clean lines of Social Realism! Memento Park, just outside Budapest, houses a collection of Socialist/ Communist statuary that formerly decorated the city in a solution to the problem of what to do with these markers of the Soviet past. Rather than destroy them or leave them where they were, some of the statues of Lenin (my personal favorite) and other heroes of the Soviet satellite state, were gathered here. Photos below, and my own ‘tribute’ to Lenin in video form here.
“Take them, please!” is part of the message from the above cartoon, part of a larger series seen at ArtMarket Budapest (sorry, I’m not sure whose work it is). And the relationship to the the Soviet-era tin cans that passed (and pass) for transportation is an ambivalent one of fondness and frustration. Perhaps that’s why they keep being thrown up, whole and entire, as contemporary sculptural pieces.
Simon Starling, Flaga, installation shot at the New Museum
These aren’t John Chamberlain’s crushed car part sculptures. Rather they preserve and put the entirety of the Socialist-era cars, known for their poor design, safety, and performance, on view in a way that seems to present then as beloved cultural objects as much as anything else. Czech artist David Černý had some fun with it with his sculpture ‘Quo vadis.’
David Czerny, Quo Vadis
Perhaps this Trabant, a car driven here in Hungary but also in the Czech Republic, runs better on legs.
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves as a Fountain 1
I was lucky to catch the retrospective of Karel Nepraš at DOX Center for Contemporary Art on one of its last days. Considered an overdue examination of an important figure in Czech sculpture, the curators place Nepraš as an artist whose work contributed to the resurgence of visual cultures in the 1960s and who influenced Czech sculpture today. His artwork existed alongside and responded to the political changes of the past decades, often responding with absurdity to the perceived inconsistencies and oddities of life. Machines that look like people could so easily be kitschy or sentimental, but Nepraš’s dark humor prevents that.
Rodina (Family), in a characteristic and vibrant shade of red.
It is precisely because his sculpture of machine parts, kitchen utensils, and other common objects are dark and disjointed creatures that I felt they inspired great affection. Clunkily, endearingly humane, his sculptures root in his early years as a cartoonist became clear in this exhibition. The exhibition continues up, floor after floor, culminating in the more complex works like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves as a Fountain 1 (at top of page).
Check out the fantastic virtual tour of the exhibition for the (almost) full experience!
