Why are we so drawn to Miroslav Tichý's photographs ? What is it that fascinates us, that keeps us from averting our eyes, but then pursues us, haunts us in our dreams ? What is this muffled oppression that emanates from them ? Why do they give rise to an unrivaled enthusiasm, a pleasure, a wonderment ?
Why are we so drawn to Miroslav Tichý's photographs ? What is it that fascinates us, that keeps us from averting our eyes, but then pursues us, haunts us in our dreams ? What is this muffled oppression that emanates from them ? Why do they give rise to an unrivaled enthusiasm, a pleasure, a wonderment ?