Hlava 1915

Editor: We’re looking at “Hlava,” or “Head,” an oil painting done in 1915 by Josef Capek. I find the simple shapes so striking – almost unsettling. The colors are muted but the face is somehow so present. What do you see in this piece? Curator: Ah, yes, Capek! He was truly plugged into the pulse of his time, wasn't he? You know, the shapes remind me of ancient idols, those silent guardians staring out from forgotten temples. But then there's this incredible modernity to it all – that sharp cubist breakdown. Almost as if the very idea of "self" is being dissected, explored under a microscope. Does it make you think about how we construct our identities today? Editor: I guess it does, yeah. It feels almost…clinical, but still with a sense of humanity in those downturned features. Like a geometry assignment expressing deep sorrow. Curator: Exactly! That push and pull is Capek's brilliance. He captures this early 20th-century anxiety about industrialization and the individual. The head is present but simplified, maybe hinting at dehumanization but perhaps at some essence distilled too. It asks a question without words – who are we beneath the surface? Editor: It’s interesting that you see anxiety. I mostly felt just simple…sadness? Like it’s given up. Curator: Oh, that sadness is definitely there! I wonder, perhaps anxiety and sadness walk hand-in-hand in the era. The sense of losing your bearings, all those rapid changes. And look at the use of color. Somber, almost melancholic, mirroring perhaps that very human feeling of being lost. Editor: Well, now I'm definitely feeling the anxiety too! Curator: Isn’t that the beauty of art? Each eye finds something unique, like a little hidden world reflected back.