‘Praying Wood’, Krištof Kintera’s new sculpture, unveiled on Štvanice Island
A new work by Czech artist Krištof Kintera has been unveiled on Prague’s Štvanice Island. Praying Wood, a large kneeling figure resembling driftwood, is actually cast in aluminium with a silver coating. The sculpture was created at the initiative of the Bohemian Heritage Fund in collaboration with the Prague City Gallery. Ruth Fraňková attended the unveiling and spoke with the artist about his latest work.
We are standing here in front of your freshly installed statue called Praying Wood. For those who haven’t had a chance to see it yet, could you describe it briefly?
“It looks like a primitive sculpture carved from a piece of wood, but it’s not really wood. It’s a well-cast model based on a sculpture that was originally made of wood. The cast itself is aluminium with a silver coating, so the material is quite unorthodox.
“I wanted to avoid bronze sculptures, or even the look of bronze, because bronze sculptures are everywhere. All these figurative sculptures are made out of bronze, and I wanted to move away from those historical associations.”
Looking at it from a distance, it really does look like a piece of wood. Can you tell us more about the process? How was it made and how complicated that process was?
“Every sculpture is difficult to make, and this one was no exception. It had to be divided into about 70 mould pieces, and it took more than a year to cast. I think it’s really well done in terms of detail. I collaborated with a sculptor from Slovakia, Laco Sabo, and he did a marvellous job with the casting.”
This isn’t your first sculpture. I’ve seen similar but smaller figures at one of your previous exhibitions. What’s the idea behind these praying figures?
“I started working on these smaller sculptures about twelve or thirteen years ago, and I enjoyed the primitivity of the process. I went to the forest and made figures out of sticks. I felt a bit like a six- or seven-year-old, making these ‘simple’ sculptures.
“But at the time, I was forty, which made it different, because I was putting together pieces of wood, knowing I was making a figure that obviously reminds us of a religious posture.”
You said you didn’t want to talk too much about the meaning, leaving space for imagination. But could you tell us a bit more about the symbolism of this particular piece?
“I can, but you’re right—I face this situation a lot. People like to know: ‘Aha, this is it, this is what he wanted to say.’ But I’m often surprised by how people interpret it. It’s about verticality, it’s about Christianity, but it’s also about primitivism.
“I don’t want to tie it to a particular religion, because, for instance, the small ones I made twelve years ago were also on their knees, but they were bowing, with their head on the floor. When I had an exhibition in the Rudolfinum, I turned them toward Mecca.
“So you can do many things with this simple statue. It’s just a matter of how you look at it, and I leave that up to the audience.”
Why is this statue here on Štvanice Island? How did the idea for this location come about?
“The placement of the sculpture is at least half the work. You can have a perfect sculpture, but if you put it in the wrong spot, it doesn’t work—so I take that very seriously. I like this spot because it has been rediscovered only recently.
“Five years ago, it was a kind of periphery in the middle of the city, but now, since the bridge between Holešovice and Karlín was built, the place has changed a lot. I think it fits here. I didn’t want to put it on a square full of tourists; I wanted to open up newly created spaces in my hometown.”
