Místa snivců / Lenka Falušiová & Miloš Šejn
Kostel sv. Mikuláše a sv. Anny, Telce
28.09.2025 - 28.10.2025
Places of Dreamers
There are places that seem to hold a secret power over us—places that enchant, that draw us in. They are places of depth, where one may discover oneself, yet just as easily become lost. Often, these are realms governed by the elements: water, fire, earth, and air—sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in triads. They are sites that stir the imagination, that invite reverie, where one perceives the living web of connection between all things. Dreamers are those with the sensitivity to recognize such places, to enter into their depths. And though each of us carries within a fragment of the dreamer, and though almost any place may become a place of reverie, it seems that certain sites are, by their very nature, destined for it.
Some artists belong to this lineage of dreamers, drawn to particular places and elements, as the French philosopher Gaston Bachelard once so piercingly described. Lenka Falušiová is such a dreamer of the forest, which has remained for her a primal source of inspiration, encoded since childhood in the Jeseníky mountains. For her, the forest is an image of the living, breathing world—one in which human, animal, and plant exist side by side, on the same plane. The tree, that ancient cosmological symbol, rises again and again in her works. “Trees are the guardians of the forest,” she says. Yet Lenka is not a Bachelardian dreamer of any one of the four elements; she is, rather, a dreamer of light. If Bachelard turned to the verses of great poets to reveal the imagination of the elements, Lenka’s works may serve as a path toward the phenomenology of light itself.
Miloš Šejn, by contrast, is a dreamer of the earth. His place of initiation is Zebín, a volcanic hill near Jičín, where he has lived since youth. Zebín shaped his first painterly gestures and guided his further artistic journey toward ever more direct forms of contact with chosen sites—whether in the form of imprints of terrain, the gathering and testing of natural pigments, or performative acts of intervention. And although over the decades Miloš has engaged with other elements—water among them—it seems to me that his imagination feeds most deeply on the forces of the earth. Thus, as I linger over his works, the word chthonic comes insistently to mind. From the Greek chthōn, earth, it names what belongs to the soil, the subterranean, the underworld.
The work Delimitation of Space with Fire (1982) brings together two archetypal images of humankind’s earliest imaginings: fire and the cave. Here, fire recalls not only our primeval intimacy with flame but also the cataclysmic history of the earth itself, bound to volcanic upheaval. Šejn’s cave is a chamber of reverie, opening into the depths of human history as well as into the deep time of the earth.
Jaroslav Anděl