Jáchym Kliment
Ebb&Flow
Ebb&Flow, 2009, video

When a year ago Jáchym Kliment left for Central America to install his exhibition, composed of video 8 and his Kartografie (Cartography) works, black and white photographs taken mainly in central Europe during the previous several years, and Mistral, black and white and colour photographs taken in southern France, those who follow his work were curious as to how the local atmosphere and light conditions would reflect on his new photographs. Simply put, whether the existing model of seeing, based on the tradition of Czech fine arts – particularly surreal and Dadaist poetry and Czech imaginative photography and would prevail, or whether the experience of the journey and “otherness” would be strong enough to bring a new type of work.

In the end both occurred. Playfulness and subtle irony decreased, while the ability to catch the unique atmosphere and specificity of the photographed place remained. The colours intensified; perhaps colour – various scales of green in particular became more prominent. Some time ago I wrote that Kliment’s photographs are timeless – this can again be said; the current works are about a particular critical moment; the calm before the storm, the last long inhalation before something that is going to change the course of the world.



 Untitled
Untitled, 2008–2009, colour and b&w ink prints

In his photographs, Kliment skilfully disturbs the illusion of space; some create the impression of a snapshot of flat pictures, others evoke dimensions absent in the original reality. They are magical, settling beneath the skin and compelling the viewer to return to them. Perhaps they have retained some of the aura of the original space, perhaps, as the American Indians believed, photography is capable of stealing part of the soul.

Supplementing Kliment’s photography is the video Ebb&Flow (Ocean), recorded on a classic 8mm film camera. The feathered silhouettes of people set against the background of a changing sea are a volatile record of the existence of infinity.

– Helena Musilová

Back