Hynek Tvrdý (*1972) belongs to those photographers for whom photography gradually became a way of looking around – and at times also a way of looking a little deeper into oneself.

He was introduced to photography in childhood by his father, and from then on it has accompanied him through most of his life as an important counterbalance to his profession as a programmer.

In 2020 he held his first solo exhibition at the X-Foto gallery in Prague and subsequently took part in several group exhibitions. He is currently preparing his first monographic photo book “PLACE” which he plans to self-publish in the first half of next year.

In 2025 he became an aspirant member of the Verum Photo collective.

Kevin V. Ton

Some things are so obvious and so omnipresent that we gradually stop noticing them. One of these is the fundamental importance of what we tend to call “ordinary life.” Even the expression itself—created by us—reinforces the feeling that it refers to something insignificant. After all, what could be essential, interesting, or profound about anything “ordinary”? And yet, without this everyday life, which forms the foundation of everything, there would be no great moments, no historical milestones, no turning points that determine the further course of history.

The photographs of Josef Husák, belonging to the tradition of subjective documentary, attempt to capture precisely this seemingly ordinary life—and its true extraordinariness. At first glance, some viewers might see them as “ordinary” street scenes. But they are far more than a simple documentary reflection of reality in the sense of “this is what it looked like then, and this is what we were like.” Something deeper lies behind them: the effort to reach the essence, to look beyond the visible. “I’ve always been drawn more to what is behind the scenes, behind the main action. From a photographic perspective, that is usually more interesting,” Husák says.

The author often works with subtle humour, visually surprising moments, and unusual contrasts—both between situations and between the objects and protagonists in the images. His photographs frequently feature multi-layered compositions: a single frame contains several seemingly unrelated events.

This is the author’s deliberate game with the viewer. We usually expect—and are conditioned to believe—that objects or people within the same frame must have a direct relation to one another. Otherwise, why would they appear together? But what if this assumption does not fully apply? The mind begins to search for relationships even where none are apparent, imagination is triggered, and viewers project their own interpretations into the image, creating new stories. “I aim for that—I’m glad when a photograph makes the viewer read into it,” says Josef Husák, who has the gift of noticing and capturing such moments.

Most of the photographs presented in this exhibition were taken between 1984 and 2025 on the streets of Prague, though a few also come from Paris, London, and Berlin. From the very beginning, Husák was drawn to the city and its visual poetry. “I am a native of Prague—born and raised on the Vltava river,” he explains, adding that the city and the street are his natural environment. “Of course, I like nature, but I feel more like a visitor there,” he says.

This is also why, as a member of the Vinohrady photo club, he was not attracted to landscape, still life, or nudes—but to documentary photography. It is therefore no surprise that in 1983 he was among the founding members of the photographic group City (Město), named by another lover of the city and its people, photographer František Dostál.

Many of the photographs from Husák’s personal work were taken during the years when he was already a professional corporate photographer, specialising in architecture, documentary, and reportage. He worked in this role for thirty years, yet he was always drawn back to the streets: after photographing for work, he would still photograph for himself.

“It’s my way of relaxing; it gives me fulfilment and a sense that I might not be entirely useless. And perhaps I’m creating something that could resonate with someone,” he says.

Tomáš Vocelka, journalist and photographer

Stanislav Kohout (*1993) belongs to the younger generation of photographers devoted exclusively to street photography. He perceives it as a dialogue between himself and the street, between light, people, and place – and at the same time as a dialogue with himself. His visual style is shaped through everyday observation of the streets. Photography is not his livelihood, yet – or perhaps precisely because of that – it has become his daily bread, his need, and his necessity.

As he himself says: “Get up in the morning, have breakfast, take the camera and head out into the streets to search for energy, emotions, and the authenticity of the street, the city, and its people. I know that when I am attentive, the street gives back. The search for and observation of stories has fascinated me since childhood.”

The series “Who am I? Where am I? I am here.” presents photographs from London, Prague, Tokyo, and Kyoto. Each city – just like the culture that shapes it – requires a slightly different approach, yet at its core it is always about searching in the street, and at the same time within oneself.

In 2024 he became an aspirant member of the photographic collective Verum Photo.

Kevin V. Ton

Dear Tereza!

Your ask to pen a few sentences for the occasion of your exhibition made me happy. I only hope the happiness will go both ways. You told me you’d welcome words which don’t reek of kunsthistorical and curatorial routine. As a painter, I can relate in a way. I’ve experienced, along with many of my colleagues, the words of deathly serious and universally lauded art theorists. All the academic jargon and language wouldn’t feel out of place in a catalogue or someone else’s exhibition, so many pontifications about form and substance… Since this wasn’t your wish, I’ll pen your ask differently.

Should I start with form or substance? But it’s form that’s the substance of your work – I mean the form given to a woman at the expense of one male rib. Well, I thought of Adam, but really, it’s about Eve, about the many Eves born without a surgical intervention before your lens, or “objektiv” as we’d say in Czech. In your case, perhaps we should say “subjektiv”; your images are so personal, distinctive, so original and so “Teresa-esque”. The hint of decadence being rousing but never vulgar. Your photographs are beautiful, Teresa! I think being unafraid of beauty is bold in today’s age. And bold you are!

Jiří Suchý once sang “you are the most beautiful landscape I know”. I think of these lyrics often when I see your photographs, in which you again found the most beautiful aspect of a woman lucky enough to be your model.

Thank you, Tereza, for seeing and being able to capture so many of the most beautiful landscapes I know.

Martin

Restoring old steam locomotives is a demanding hobby—full of rust, soot, fuel oil, and hard work.
In the Hradec Králové depot, Mr. Turek’s crew has been working since the 1990s. But their time is coming to an end. Once they finish their work on the last locomotive, the depot doors will close for good. The final story of the age of steam.

Petr Machan, author

(CV) Petr Machan (*1982) is a contemporary, thoroughly independent documentary and artistic photographer. He came to photography by a roundabout way—through poetry. For him, photography is both a passion and a daily livelihood. His poet’s soul, no longer seeking words, gradually found expression in his visual language.
For years, he shared his work through a street photography blog and has worked—and continues to work—on a range of thematic projects, whether independently or in collaboration with fellow members
of Verum Photo, a photography collective of which he has long been a member. Together, they published an extensive book of photographic essays.
At times, he passionately explores alternative techniques in the darkroom; at others, he returns to
the roots of analog photography. Then again, with just a small digital camera in hand, he roams
the landscape, recording his thoughts in an almost diary-like form.
The themes of his series evolve, but they never remain superficial—they invite the viewer to look more deeply, challenging them to reflect on how they themselves tell stories. In his photographic series Broken, he reveals the genuine emotions of today’s women from Central and Eastern Europe. In The Last Men of Steam, he follows the traces of a world that is slowly disappearing.

Kevin V. Ton

Martin Bouzek (*1977, Prague) is a documentary photographer and a member of the VERUM PHOTO association, belonging to the admirers of black-and-white photography.

His journey into photography began in high school when he received a reflex camera as a birthday gift. He initially focused on capturing his travels across Asia and, over time, started collaborating with Photo Life magazine. After a years-long hiatus from photography due to sports, he rediscovered his passion and realized that great images can be found simply by looking around—there is no need to seek out exotic destinations. Another vital aspect of his life is water. With his camera always at hand, he and his loyal friends go down wild and remote rivers.

Seakayak – Sea Wandering is a photo essay complemented by a text written by Petr “Snížák” Snížek, editor-in-chief of Pádler magazine:

Seakayaking?

A sleek, narrow boat with sharp bows rising high above the water. On the deck: a spare paddle, a waterproof bag, a handy water bottle, and other essentials. Below the kayak, crystal-clear blue water, revealing the seabed even several meters deep. Further out, the open sea turns into a deep, dark blue abyss. Sleeping under the stars on sandy beaches, cooking over an open fire…

A romantic idea, isn’t it? But what is seakayaking really like?

An hour of preparation—packing everything into waterproof bags and squeezing them into the storage compartments of the kayak. A 25-kilogram boat with an equally heavy load. Then, getting in and…

“Where are we headed, Bouzína?”

“I think toward those buildings in the distance.”

“Where that red lighthouse is?”

“Yeah, somewhere over there. I’d say about three kilometers. Maybe… Three and a half. Four. Maximally.”

Then, you set the kayak’s bow in the right direction and start paddling. And paddling. Chatting for a while with the person paddling next to you—while still paddling. After some time, you realize that the destination isn’t getting closer as quickly as you thought, and eventually, you’re just grateful to reach the first checkpoint. You get out, stretch your legs, and plan the next move.

Another checkpoint. And the cycle repeats. Paddling… and more paddling. In the evening, an Adventure Menu meal, a quick swim in the sea, and then off to sleep, with satisfaction.

And the next day? Well, you can probably guess how it goes. And yet—we absolutely love it. Why? Maybe because it can’t be described. It can only be experienced.

Kevin V. Ton’s black and white grayscale photography captures the essence of the existence of the element of humanity in the everyday life of a Prague street. The street is a place, a living organism, where countless random situations and spontaneous human interactions of all kinds take place. For Kevin, the fascination with the constant flow of people and their reactions in a microsecond community has become a lifelong photographic impulse to capture empathy, emotional bonds, or the degree of understanding of an individual or community across time and space. Throughout history, streets have been a natural space to express the ordinary state of being, but they are also a space that speaks of the triumphs and falls of individuals and society in general. For Kevin V. Ton, the street represents a fundamental photographic space for the depiction of scenes worth capturing. It is a space for self-awareness and retrospective reflection, perception, communication, and the creation of relationships that can trigger curiosity and creativity. Through black and white photography, Kevin eliminates external perceptions and concentrates on the pure state of affairs here and now. His images acquire universal validity, and what is more, for the historical context, he creates an unusually strong trace of the present. It is an interplay of aesthetics, but also the philosophical and sociological aspects of capturing human existence here and now.
It is precisely the street genre of photography that has played its key role in documenting social history and preserving cultural narratives of visual commentary on everyday life. Kevin V. Ton is one of the contemporary photographers who continues in street photography, regardless of current trends. Kevin necessarily works with unpredictability. Almost every day, he unobtrusively wanders the streets of Prague and presents a pure spectacle of contemporary life in Prague with the highest possible moral sensitivity. He gives an insight into diverse images of lived lives through the testimony of the street and quite often specifically touches people on the margins of society. Through his photographs, he tells the stories of people, social communities, often anonymous and unknown. He perceives his environment very well, in which he moves with his camera, and subconsciously feels and anticipates moments, emotions, energy and rhythm of the city that are worth capturing. He depicts the everydayness of busy city panoramas in comparison with quiet, subliminal introspective moments, revealing the complexity of human behavior and their possible reasons. A person is by nature a complex element, soaked in emotions, relationships, culture and personal experience. Authenticity dominates. The best street photographs tell stories without words. Such a photograph itself interprets the meanings conveyed also by the timing of the photograph, which can turn an ordinary scene into a timeless snapshot. Although street photography is increasingly on the edge of current photographic trends today, in its purest form it is still a functional means of expressing the human essence in its relative authenticity. In addition to the aesthetic level, it is primarily necessary to look at street photography from the perspective of ethical aspects. When capturing moments of strong visual stories, the photographer moves on very thin borders. With his instinct, he must sense the situation very well in direct proportion to the discretion of the subject. This concerns the ethics of the creator of the image himself in the form of the absence or minimization of interventions in the image, based on essential trust, but also the entire post-production process, how the image will be handled further. The open approach method plays a key role, when the photographer consciously minimizes his disruption of the given community by maintaining a certain distance and respecting the dignity of his photographed subjects. It seems that Kevin V. Ton is doing well with this discipline. He thereby shifts his artistic photographic element of humanity into the cultural and social context of a valuable document of human experience that we can trust. After all, street photography is still an extraordinary form of memory about the essence of our lives in its purest form. It is still a valid testimony to the charm of the uniqueness of everyday life, to the depth of perception and appreciation of the world in which we live.

The group exhibition Sister of a Sister of a Sister presents the work of fourteen women photographers who make up the first modern female Czech photoclub Sisters in Photography. As the name suggests, mutual support and motivation, cooperation and sharing of the creative process and experimentation is the principal bond between the group’s members. Their work is diverse, thematically rather disconnected. However, in themselves and in their shared purpose, the members bring mutual feminine solidarity into the art milieu of photography which tends to individualism and competition. They pick up the mostly male tradition of photoclubs, which goes back all the way to the beginning of the photographic medium, and following in the footsteps of foreign women photoclubs, they add in the feminist tradition of sisterhood. It is in this spirit and at their creative intersections that the collective wants to present itself in the future.

The fourteen photographers form a collective in which its members retain their autonomy in pursuing feminine as well as other subjects. Even though the former are present in their works somewhat as a matter of course, both the exhibition and the group are not putting themselves under the label of ‘female photography’, and so the feminist optics is only one of the many identities manifested by the club. Each author brings in her own experience, vision, and manner of working. Exploring the exhibition we thus pass through different worlds and perspectives as reflected by the opening text which lets the various characters and motifs from all the photographs speak and invites us to listen.