Julia Bailey on honouring Galerie Rudolfinum’s legacy while delivering a fresh approach
British art historian, curator and writer Julia Bailey has been the head of Prague’s Galerie Rudolfinum for two and a half years. Last month saw the publication of her book Painting Paranoia: Cold War Art and Anti-Communism. When we spoke at our studios, the conversation took in everything from her institution not having a permanent collection to the fact it shares the grand Rudolfinum with the Czech Philharmonic.
Julia Bailey on honouring Galerie Rudolfinum’s legacy while delivering a fresh approach
British art historian, curator and writer Julia Bailey has been the head of Prague’s Galerie Rudolfinum for two and a half years. Last month saw the publication of her book Painting Paranoia: Cold War Art and Anti-Communism. When we spoke at our studios, the conversation took in everything from her institution not having a permanent collection to the fact it shares the grand Rudolfinum with the Czech Philharmonic.
You've been living in Prague since 2018. What brought you here in the first place?
“I have several answers to that question. The very short version is Brexit, because I wanted to move to the EU; I felt like the walls were closing, so I started looking around for options.
“And then this job came up at the National Gallery Prague. At the time, they were interested in expanding the international side of their workforce. So I was sort of the guinea pig for this idea.
“So yes, I moved across, not speaking the language and not knowing anyone, actually. And here I am still, almost eight years later.”
I was reading also that you got a gift of a copy of Milan Kundera’s novel The Book of Laughter and Forgetting and that had some kind of influence on the direction you took in your career.
“Yes, absolutely. I didn't really think of him as Czech. I wasn't aware that much of the Czech Republic at that time. But I was aware of my own Russian and Polish heritage, through my grandmother.
“I hope I'm honouring the legacy of the first 30 years of the ‘rebooted’ gallery and also bringing a fresh approach.”
“So I read this book. I actually then went on to read his entire back catalogue, because I really liked his style of writing. And then I started thinking more about dissident literature.
“Through that, I started thinking more about dissident artistic practices throughout Central and Eastern Europe, which eventually got me into my PhD topic.
“Through that, I started working in that field – and that is what brought me to Prague.
“So, in a very kind of roundabout way, it all started with that book.”
In early 2024 you took over as head of Galerie Rudolfinum. How have you found it so far?
“A lot of hard work, but it's been wonderful.
“I have a brilliant team there. I'm very grateful to them. They welcomed me and they've worked very closely with me on sort of reinvigorating the place.
“I must say it was in a great state under the previous director [Petr Nedoma], who'd been there, as the founding director, for 30 years. And after that time, it needed a bit of a refresh.
“So I've been working with my colleagues on that. And I hope I'm honouring the legacy of the first 30 years of the ‘rebooted’ gallery and also bringing a fresh approach.
“I'm trying to make sure that we're fully engaged with art world conversations, more globally. But also representing local talking points as well.
“I’m trying to ensure that Prague is fully internationally connected and that we present opportunities for artists here to actually get out into the world as well, and connect with people outside.”
Is it the case that visitor numbers have increased since you took over?
“Yes, that's true. Last year, we had a 50-percent increase in our visitor numbers. It was the second most visited year in the gallery's history.
“We've had a series of exhibitions that seem to have really inspired people, connecting with various generations – both younger generations and older visitors, who seem to be coming back as well.
“So I'm very happy for that. And I hope we can continue to inspire them.”
And was there any particular exhibition that was a big hit?
“I'd say last year, in my mind, the big hit was Poetics of Encryption. It was an exhibition that started in Berlin, then went to Copenhagen and we were the third and final venue. And according to the curator and a number of the artists, it was the best version of the show.
“Most of our funding comes from the Ministry of Culture, but I want to diversify and make us more independent.”
“It was looking at the dark side of the internet and how we deal with the fact that we're locked into this technology and also locked out of it, in terms of our lack of understanding of how it actually functions.
“The whole project was very cool: the curator and the artists are kind of connected in terms of meme culture, in terms of talking points.
“I think that kind of made a statement. I chose that as my first group exhibition. In fact, I already knew the curator, so I reached out to him the moment I got the job and said, Can we bring that show to Prague?
“Because before it opened I'd heard that it was going to be big.”
Will you often take exhibitions that have been elsewhere? Or are touring exhibitions seen as a bit less prestigious?
“No, I think they’re not seen as less prestigious.
“It's wonderful if that can happen; it's usually to do with timing, to do with cost.
“For instance, the next show we have coming up is a joint exhibition between Tanya Lukin Linknater and Duane Linknater, who are two First Nations artists based in Canada [the show opened on September 30 under the title Crested/mâcistan: Tanya Lukin Linklater and Duane Linklater].
“That was a project that was sort of initiated at Secession in Vienna. I was speaking to the team there, found out the show was being developed and then jumped in to bring it eventually to Prague.”
What's the model of Galerie Rudolfinum? Is it the case you have some state grants, but most of your funding comes from sponsors, and then entry is free?
“Sadly not, no. Most of our funding comes from the Ministry of Culture, which we're grateful for. But I want to diversify and make us more independent. I think that would be good for the ministry and for us.
“It's been quite hard to generate that private support; there's not really so much tradition of that here.
“So we're majority supported by the Ministry of Culture right now, but I'm making strong efforts to try and change that.”
A lot of arts institutions in this country have seen their budgets cut by the current arts minister. How are you guys looking in that regard?
“Currently, it's been OK. Our budgets have been maintained for this year.
“There was always a gallery [at the Rudolfinum], from 1885.”
“We have the benefit of being part of the Czech Philharmonic, at least administratively. We operate entirely separately financially and in terms of our programme, but administratively we operate under the Czech Philharmonic because we share the same building.
“As such, they represent us in that regard and in conversations with the Ministry. It's great, I think, to kind of have that connection.”
And they're a kind of big beast in Czech culture
“Yes. So I think that that helps the gallery as well.
To digress for one second – and I didn't know this before I prepared for this interview – there was also a gallery there in the early days of Rudolfinum.
“Yes. Earlier I spoke about the gallery being rebooted, because people now sometimes think of Galerie Rudolfinum as only having existed for about 30, 35 years.”
That's what I thought.
“There was always a gallery there.
“The Rudolfinum was developed as, and actually opened specifically as, a temple of culture.
“It was always meant to be about more than just music. It was always meant to be kind of a centre for the nation, for the arts of the nation.
“Permanent collections are a bit of a money pit, to be honest.”
“So there was always a gallery there, from 1885.
“It was showing various things at that time. It showed decorative arts. It was actually the kind of birthplace of what went on to be the Museum of Decorative Arts.
“It was at the birthplace of the collection that went on to eventually become the National Gallery. But it also showed contemporary artists and contemporary international artists even then.
“You had artists like Picasso, Egon Schiele, Matisse, Kokoschka – when they were in their twenties and thirties, they showed at Galerie Rudolfinum.
“So when people ask why we’re doing exhibitions of international contemporary art in 2026, I say that’s what we were doing 140 years ago.”
You have experience of working at a lot of major institutions, such as the Tate Modern, Royal Academy of Arts, both in London, and the Smithsonian in the US. They have permanent collections. Galerie Rudolfinum doesn't. What are the advantages and disadvantages of having a permanent collection?
“I miss working on a permanent collection.
“It's wonderful having a permanent collection, to actually be able to care for it, to work with it, to have it as sort of a guiding force for what you do and what you show, for what artists you show and what topics you talk about.
“So that's a bit sad. But in terms of actual flexibility, functionality, it's way easier to operate without a permanent collection.
“Permanent collections are a bit of a money pit, to be honest.
“It's not just about having these nice objects. You have to store them. You have to conserve them. You have to have many, many people managing them, ensuring that these works – which will deteriorate if they're not looked after properly – stay in their same state. And that's often fighting against nature.
“So it's very demanding having a permanent collection.
“Some of the problems you see at, say, the National Gallery are to do with the fact so much money is absorbed into maintaining a very big permanent collection there.”
You already mentioned the Czech Philharmonic. You studied music and you play piano. How is it having them as direct neighbours in the place where you work?
“I think it’s a fantastic advantage for me that I studied music in my undergraduate degree, because I can really understand what people are talking about.
“I end up in a lot of meetings where people are talking about repertoire, talking about particular instruments and particular conductors or performers.
“I understand those conversations. I don't need to be looking things up. This is a language I speak, so that really helps.
“Almost every exhibition we do engages with the history of the space, engages with the history of the [Rudolfinum].”
“I find it very inspiring to be in that musical environment. I've put a piano in my office now so that I can play.
“But it's digital and I have headphones, because actually my office is directly above the main piano practice room. Often in the afternoons, particularly, I have virtuosi practicing.
“And I thought if I'm just there hammering away on my piano upstairs, they might think the standards of the Czech Philharmonic have gone down somewhat.”
Also, what a place to work. I'm always happy coming here to Czech Radio, which I think is a grand place. But where you work is one of the most magnificent buildings in Prague – the one-time home of the Czechoslovak parliament.
“Yes, it's a fantastic building. And certainly in the gallery, the building is really, really our raison d'etre.
“Almost every exhibition we do engages with the history of the space, engages with the history of the building.
“There's always a conversation, you know, because the building is so intricate. Inside there's so much decoration, architectural sculpture but also painted decoration. And you can't just dismiss that – you really have to be in some sort of dialogue with it as a curator or as an artist.
“That's helped to direct the artists that we work with and the projects we work with.
“For instance, the exhibition with the Linklaters really talks about water. That's a theme that runs throughout the exhibition.
“And the gallery is on the water, the direction of the gallery is dictated by the flow of the river, which is something you don't think about; where the objects are actually placed within the space is always related to the water, because that's the angle of the gallery.”
“So that that is something very beautiful about the space as well.”
You have a new book out: Painting Paranoia: Cold War Art and Anti-Communism. You cover a lot of ground in it, but there's one thing that particularly interested me. You write about the movement of US social realism, which was around the time of the Depression and the New Deal. How does US social realism compare to Soviet socialist realism?
“I was very much taking pains in the book to make sure that I differentiated these two art movements, because they sound rather similar.
“Essentially, social realism predated socialist realism.
“The latter concept in the Soviet Union took a lot of the imagery of social realism, but then it kind of politicised it.
“Social realism was the concept that artist should represent the people and their daily lives and struggles.
“This was something that was really quite an international concept at that time, so you have Russian social realism at the end of Imperial Russia.
“And you have it in the US as well, starting in the early 20th century.
“One of my primary focuses in the book is how social realism in the US navigated the fact of Soviet Russia going down the line of socialist realism – trying to take that art form and represent it as something politicised and something that represented the Soviet project.
“Some artists in the US remain tied to this idea, and wanted to continue to represent the lives and the struggles of the people.
“But that whole idea came to be seen as something communist, so potentially subversive and dangerous.”
And Soviet socialist realism was presenting an idealised image, maybe of the future – brighter tomorrows and so on. But American social realism was presenting social problems, I guess?
“Absolutely. As you see again and again in the history of the Soviet Union, they took something that was a maybe pure and beautiful idea and just made it really distorted and controlling and hurtful.
“So this idea of social realism came to become not actually showing how life was but showing how it could be – if one signed up to this idealised world.”
If we all work together.
“Exactly. So it wasn't a present – it was an imagined future.
“It was a form of advertising, essentially. It was saying, You can achieve this wonderful world, if you do everything we say.
“Whereas social realism, which continued to exist in the US, was actually talking about the lives of people.
“So they would represent, after the Second World War, veterans and how they weren't being cared for and what their lives looked like after the war.”
Do you like socialist realism? It definitely holds a fascination for a lot of people I know.
“It's fascinating, yes. I wouldn't say I like it necessarily, but I do find it very interesting.
“When you think about liking art, what do you actually mean by that anyway?
“I'm naturally attracted to things with bold colours, for instance. So in that respect, socialist realism is not really my cup of tea.
“But I am very interested in how it's seeking to do something. It's very clever in how it's made, which is very interesting. It's also technically brilliant.
“That's something you see again and again – that on the US side during the Cold War period they were very concerned about the fact that Soviet art was so technically advanced in terms of using these traditional techniques of painting, particularly.
“While the Americans were going down that road, they were also going down the route of supporting gestural painting, abstract painting.
“And it was harder to argue to the uninitiated that this was something that was technically quite demanding.”
Getting back to Galerie Rudolfinum, what are the factors that influence your decisions on future exhibitions? Basically, how do you decide what to book?
“I have quite a simple model. Right now we're doing three months on, one month off.
“It takes a month to change, and I want to do at least three exhibitions a year.
“And because of certain timings like Christmas and some holidays, that's the timetable we have.
“So we can do three exhibitions opening each year.
“I do one group exhibition, which is something that is some talking point in the world. And the curator we choose for that takes a research-based approach; they think deeply about it and select a really interesting group of artists.
“We bring together Czech artists and international artists, so that there's this meeting of the two.
“And then there's two solo exhibitions – solo or joint exhibitions – one of which I try to ensure is someone from the Central Eastern European region, to provide a platform for them, and one of which is someone from elsewhere, basically, from out in the world.
“Like I say, I often choose someone who engages with the building in some way.
“It’s always important to me that, whatever they're doing, people within the Czech Republic can understand that and can also come into the exhibition and feel like, Oh, I have something to say here. I already understand this. There's something they're talking about that is relevant to me.
“Last year we had an exhibition with Ivan Argote, a Colombian artist who's talking from a post-colonial perspective about the public space, who's represented in that public space and what histories are represented in that public space.
“I think that's something that particularly people from Prague can absolutely understand.
“Because when you go to any of the squares or the parks, there are histories embedded in the sculptures there – and there are still a lot of arguments about statues of people who were part of the communist system, for instance.
“In the next exhibition that we've got coming up, by First Nations artists from Canada, they're talking about how their language was taken away from them under colonialism.
“That's something that also happened to the Czech people. The Czech language was taken over under Germanisation and then had to be sort of reclaimed.
“With the exhibition we're actually working with Preciosa, the bead company. They’re donating some glass rods used in the bead-making process, because beads were something that were actually taken from the Czech lands and used by the First Nations peoples in the Americas to make their objects
“So we're talking about trade through creativity as well.”
And how far into the future do you plan exhibitions?
“I've jumped us two years ahead, so we're planning for 2028 and starting to think about 2029.”
The previous head of the gallery was there for an incredible 30 years, a feat that’s unlikely to be replicated. But how far do you look into the future yourself?
“Probably about two years ahead as well.
“It’s quite funny that Petr [Nedoma] started his role at the exact same age that I started.
“So that makes me wonder whether history will repeat itself, but I can't see it happening.
“Also I think it's good for the institution as well to have a refresh after a certain amount of years.”
Painting Paranoia: Cold War Art and Anti-Communism by Julia Bailey is out now on the University of Illinois Press imprint.
