---
title: "Following David Černý’s Trail – A Journey to Prague’s Darker Side | Satori Cities"
url: "https://satoricities.com/en/blog/following-david-cerny-trail-prague/"
language: "en"
type: "blog-post"
slug: "david-cerny-3"
source_slug: "david-cerny-3"
source_language: "pl"
category: "Art & Culture"
---

# Following David Černý’s Trail – A Journey to Prague’s Darker Side

> An adventure-reportage through Prague, where every David Černý sculpture is a clue, a provocation, and a joke. The Kafka Head, the Hanging Freud, Lucerna, Žižkov, and the unconventional Prague in the footsteps of the most audacious Czech artist.

- Published: August 18, 2025
- Reading time: 23 min read

Following David Černý – The City That Laughs in the Face of Legend One night, Prague whispered to me: "I am more than towers and beer. Want to see my darker soul? Come with me." And it’s hard to refuse a city that, after dusk, looks as if it might change the rules at every corner. By day, Prague is orderly. Charles Bridge leads where it should. Saints stand calmly on their pedestals. Hradčany guard the panorama. The Astronomical Clock measures time. The townhouses do what townhouses have done for the last century or two: they stand and let themselves be photographed. But there is a second Prague. You just have to stop looking straight ahead. Then you realize Freud is hanging overhead. Saint Wenceslas sits on a dead horse. Two naked men pee into the Czech Republic. Faceless children crawl up the TV tower. A bus does push ups. A Trabant grows legs. And Franz Kafka falls apart into dozens of metal fragments every few moments, only to reassemble as if nothing had happened. This is how a walk in the footsteps of David Černý in Prague begins. It’s not a typical sightseeing tour. It’s more like an urban game. Each sculpture is the next clue. Each one says: don’t trust first impressions. For years, Černý has been doing something to Prague that traditional monuments particularly dislike. He strips it of its gravity. And then checks what remains. 1. The Head That Changes Perspective Head of Franz Kafka / K. – Quadrio, 2014 Wikipedia: Head of Franz Kafka I start in the city center. It’s important. Because nothing foreshadows metaphysics here. No dark alley. No Gothic crypt. No old Jewish cemetery. There is a modern shopping complex, Quadrio , traffic, shops, glass, advertisements, and people rushing about their business. And right in the middle of all this stands Kafka. Huge. Shiny. Metallic. The Head of Franz Kafka in Prague is over ten meters high, weighs tens of tons, and consists of 42 independently rotating stainless steel layers .[^1] At first, you see a face. A nose. Lips. A forehead. The writer’s familiar features. And then everything starts to shift. One layer turns left. Another turns right. The lips drop below the nose. The forehead no longer fits the rest of the skull. For a moment, Kafka doesn’t look like a human. He is a machine. A stack of metal discs. A mechanism that has lost the instruction manual for its own face. And then everything returns. Kafka gazes at the passersby again. As if to say: “Don’t worry. Nothing happened.” Except that everything happened. Why Kafka? It’s hard to find a better patron for such a mechanism. Kafka wrote about humans trying to function in a world whose rules they don’t understand. About systems larger than the individual. About bureaucracy. About identity. About reality that seems normal at first glance, but turns out to be a nightmare moments later. With Černý, even Kafka’s face cannot maintain stability. It falls apart. Reassembles. Changes. The artist also points to the contemporary political context and Kafka’s special place in the Czech imagination with this work.[^1] When does the Kafka Head rotate? This is one of the most frequently asked questions by tourists. Various schedules for the mechanism’s operation can be found online, but since the way it is activated can change for technical or organizational reasons, it’s best to check the current schedule on site. The most important thing is this: don’t just take a photo of the stationary head and walk away. Wait. The meaning of the work begins when Kafka stops being Kafka. And perhaps that is exactly why the moving Head of Kafka in Prague has become one of the city’s most recognizable contemporary attractions. It is not a monument to the writer. It is a monument to instability. And in Prague, that makes a difference. 2. Freud, Who Can’t Decide Man Hanging Out – Husova, 1996/1997 The Guardian Insight From Kafka, we move on. The city calms down. The townhouses return to their places. The cobblestones behave decently. Restaurants set out tables. Tourists look at their phones. It seems Černý has given us a moment of peace. He hasn’t. You just have to look up. A man hangs over the street. One hand grips a metal structure. The other hangs loosely by his side. His legs dangle over the void. From below, for a moment, you really think: someone is about to fall. Only later do you learn that it is Sigmund Freud . The Hanging Freud in Prague – why is he hanging? The work Man Hanging Out , often referred to in Czech as Viselec , was created by Černý in 1996. It has been hanging over Husova Street in Prague since 1997.[^2] And here begins something more interesting than a simple provocation. Černý created the sculpture at the end of the 20th century. Everyone was wondering what the new century would bring. The Internet. Technology. Globalization. New politics. New society. And what would become of the old type of intellectual. The artist chose Freud as a symbol of the intellectual world of the 19th and 20th centuries—a man who tried to describe what lies hidden within the human psyche.[^2] And then he hung him over the street. Without ground. Without a pedestal. Without safety. Freud doesn’t fall. But he doesn’t stand, either. He is in between. A Man Between Fear and Decision You can read this sculpture very simply. Each of us hangs, sometimes. Between a job we dislike and the fear of leaving. Between a relationship and loneliness. Between what we know and what we desire. Between: “I can still endure” and: “I’m letting go.” Freud just shows it a bit more literally. And that is why the Hanging Freud in Prague works so well. You don’t need to know psychoanalysis. You just need to have once not known what to do next. Which is basically everyone. A Sculpture Mistaken for a Real Person The installation traveled the world, and its realistic appearance often triggered alarms. People saw a silhouette high above the ground and reported a man in danger to the authorities. This is one of the best proofs that Černý won. Because for a few seconds, the sculpture stops being art. It becomes an event. Only later does the brain regain control. 3. The Necrology of Saint Wenceslas Kůň (Wenceslas on a Dead Horse) – Lucerna Passage, 1999 CN Traveler on Kun We enter the Lucerna Passage . This is one of those places where Prague itself looks like a film set. An elegant passage. Historic interiors. Light. Stairs. Cafés. And then you look up. Saint Wenceslas is still sitting on the horse. Except the horse is dead. And someone has hung it upside down. Its tongue hangs from its muzzle. Its legs stick limp in the air. And the patron saint of the Czechs sits on its belly with the dignity of someone who has clearly decided it’s best to behave as if absolutely nothing has happened. Lucerna and the Czech National Symbol Upside Down A few hundred meters away, on Wenceslas Square, stands a monumental statue of the saint. There, everything works according to the rules. The horse stands. The rider looks straight ahead. The nation has a hero. History has a direction. The monument has verticality. Here, Černý takes all that code and turns it 180 degrees. Literally. His Saint Wenceslas / Kůň was created in 1999 and has been located in the Lucerna Palace ever since.[^3] The artist himself described the meaning of the sculpture exceptionally directly: the national horse is dead, everything is upside down, but people still behave as if the situation is completely normal.[^3] It’s not a subtle metaphor. But sometimes subtlety is overrated. The State Moves On. Only the Horse Is Dead. And this is where the joke becomes dangerous. Because you can apply it to any reality. Has the institution stopped working? We move on. Is the system crumbling? We move on. Is the horse dead? We’ll sit on its belly. As long as it looks official. That is why David Černý’s horse in Lucerna is something more than a tourist curiosity. It is a very Czech form of political philosophy. Without a manifesto. Without a banner. Without a speech. A dead horse is enough. 4. Politics Writes in Water — Live Piss / Streams – Kafka Museum, 2004 Wikipedia: Piss (Černý) Lesser Town. Baroque. Palaces. A few steps from Charles Bridge. One of those parts of Prague where you start to suspect the city was created solely so tourists could take good photos. And then we enter the courtyard of the Franz Kafka Museum . Two naked men stand there. Facing each other. Peeing. Into the Czech Republic. Not metaphorically. The fountain tank is shaped like the Czech Republic. And that is why the work known as Piss , officially Streams , is one of the most characteristic examples of Černý’s humor. It’s Not Just Two Guys Peeing on a Map It’s easiest to stop at the first level. Politicians pee on the Czech Republic. Funny. Provocative. Photo. Instagram. We move on. But the mechanism is more interesting. The sculpture from 2004 uses electronics and a system to control the figures’ movements. The streams can perform movements resembling writing text, and the installation was originally designed to also respond to messages sent via telephone.[^4] So the figures don’t just pee. They write on the state . And then the innocent joke gains a second layer. The State as a Surface for Writing Politics does exactly the same thing. The next government comes and writes its own version of the country. Then the next one comes. The previous writing disappears. A new one appears. Sometimes only a wet trail remains. Černý also pointed to Czech linguistic associations with urination as an image of dominating or “outsmarting” another person.[^4] Add to that art history. Manneken Pis. Duchamp. Fountain. Physiology turned into a work of art. In Prague, everything meets in a pool shaped like the Czech Republic. And suddenly a question arises: which is more absurd, the sculpture? Or the politics it tries to comment on? 5. Faceless Children – Tech Horror Babies (Žižkov Tower) – installation on the tower since 2000/2001, new versions 2019 Wikipedia: Babies (Černý) Now we leave the strict center. Because Prague in the footsteps of David Černý doesn’t end in the Old Town. We head to Žižkov. And even from afar, we see the TV tower. It looks a bit like a rocket. A bit like a structure from a Soviet sci fi movie. A bit like something that landed in the middle of the city by mistake. And then we notice the children. Gigantic babies climbing the structure. Up. Down. As if the tower were a giant toy. Miminka – Sweet Only from Afar The first reaction is often sympathetic. Children. How funny. Then you look at their faces. And the fun ends. Because there is essentially no face. Instead of eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there is a deformed mark resembling a mechanical stamp, a code, or a technological interface. The human is deprived of the most basic sign of individuality. The face. And that is why David Černý’s Miminka are simultaneously comic and unsettling. It is a characteristic mechanism of the artist: first attract. Then scare slightly. The installation on Žižkov Tower began functioning in the early 21st century and became a permanent element of the panorama. In 2019, the figures were replaced with new, more durable versions.[^5] Žižkov – Prague Worth Searching Beyond the Square The trip to the tower itself is part of the story. Žižkov doesn’t look like Old Town Square. And that’s good. It’s more everyday. Rougher. Full of pubs, townhouses, steep streets, and history that doesn’t necessarily fit into the standard folder “Prague on the Weekend.” That is why if you are interested in unconventional Prague or alternative Prague , Žižkov should appear on the map regardless of Černý. The Miminka are just a very large pretext. 6. The Hybrid That Watches Trifot – Czech Photo Centre, 2016 Atlas Obscura: Trifot We go even further. To Nové Butovice. There are fewer tourists here. The space is more contemporary. And suddenly, in front of the Czech Photo Centre, stands something that looks like a camera after a very bad dream. Or a very good one. Depends on the camera. Trifot is about 12 meters high and is a giant hybrid of a tripod, cameras, lenses, and a mechanical creature. It doesn’t look like it’s meant to stand still. It looks like it’s about to move. The Camera Grew Legs Photography has always been linked to one simple setup. A human looks. The camera records. The object is observed. Černý reverses the relationship. Trifot is larger than a human. Its lenses resemble eyes. Electronics allow the installation to react to its surroundings, and the image of passersby can appear on nearby screens.[^6] You come to take a photo of the art. And the art starts watching you. In the 21st century, it’s hard to find a more natural theme. City cameras. Phones. Social media. Monitoring. Algorithms. Location. Facial recognition. Humans photograph the world all day long and are simultaneously photographed themselves. “Who is actually taking the photo?” You look at Trifot. Trifot looks at you. You pull out your phone. You take a photo. At that moment, the situation becomes almost comic. A device photographs a device that pretends to be a living device watching a human. Černý could practically add nothing else. Technology wrote the rest of the joke itself. 7. Brown Nosers – A Leap into Political Intimacy Brown Nosers – Futura Gallery, 2003 CN Traveler: Brownnosers There are moments when, trying to write elegantly about contemporary art, you have to give up. This is one of them. Before us are two huge lower halves of human bodies. No heads. No faces. No dignity. But with a ladder. To see the work, you have to climb up. And stick your head into a giant anus. Yes. There is no more academic way to describe it. You Climb the Ladder. And There’s No Turning Back. This is an important part of the work. You don’t stand before the sculpture as you would in a museum. You have to perform a gesture. Climb. Approach. Stick your head where upbringing usually suggests not to put it. Inside, a video image activates. We see two figures. One is Václav Klaus, the other Milan Knížák. They feed each other something resembling mush, accompanied by Queen music. Černý himself spoke of Brown Nosers as a very direct reaction to the contemporary political and cultural situation in the Czech Republic.[^7] There is no great mystery here. The term brown noser in English means a sycophant. A person who will do anything to curry favor with power. Černý took the metaphor literally. Very literally. Why Brown Nosers Works Even Without Knowledge of Czech Politics The most interesting thing, however, is that you don’t need to know who the depicted people were. Černý himself recalled that a foreign journalist saw the installation without knowing the full local context and immediately understood the meaning.[^7] Because the mechanism of sycophancy is universal. Names change. Parties change. Systems change. But someone always climbs the ladder. And someone always tries to get close enough to power. Černý just shows the direction a bit more literally than we are used to. 8. The Trabant That Moved Away from the Asphalt Quo Vadis – German Embassy, 1990 CN Traveler on Quo Vadis The Trabant is not a car naturally associated with freedom. In Central Europe, it became a symbol of a completely different world. Plastic bodywork. Simple construction. East Germany. Queues. Restrictions. The everyday life of real socialism. Then came 1989. Hundreds of East German residents began crossing into West German embassies, including the one in Prague. Cars were left around the Prague facility. Trabants. Wartburgs. People left behind not just vehicles. They left behind their entire lives. Černý Gives the Trabant Legs In 1990, David Černý created Quo Vadis . The Trabant was given four human legs. And suddenly, the car no longer needed a road. It could walk away. The official history of the work directly links it to the refugee crisis around the West German embassy in Prague in 1989. A bronze cast of the work is currently located in the garden of the German embassy.[^8] Where Are You Going? Quo vadis? In Latin: Where are you going? In 1990, this question concerned practically everyone. Where are the Germans going? Where is Czechoslovakia going? Where is Eastern Europe going? What will come after communism? No one knew the answer. Perhaps that is why the Trabant doesn’t drive. It walks. Like a person who abandoned their car because the journey was more important. In this work, Černý does something he repeats many times later. He starts with a joke. The Trabant has legs. Funny. And then history opens up. And it’s no longer funny. 9. Tank Torso – History Without a Head Tank Torso / tradition of Černý’s “tank” works – vicinity of Náměstí Kinských Pragueviews on Černý works To understand the tank in Černý’s work, we need to go back even further. To 1991. A Soviet tank monument stood in Prague then. It was meant to remind people of the city’s liberation by the Red Army. It was a military monument. Heavy. Serious. Untouchable. Černý did something very simple. He painted it pink. In an instant, the symbol of military power turned into something absurd. The artist was detained, but the incident sparked a huge debate and became one of the events that brought him recognition.[^9] The Tank Stopped Scaring It is an incredibly effective gesture. Černý doesn’t destroy the machine. He doesn’t blow it up. He doesn’t dismantle it. He changes the color. The tank is still a tank. It has a barrel. Armor. Tracks. But the pink color strips it of some of its monumental dread. History is “de mystified.” Later works by the artist related to tank fragments return to this motif. On Náměstí Kinských is a work known as A Hundred Grams of Tank — a fragment of an authentic T 34, which Černý wanted to reuse as a comment on the history of the monument and the memory of the Soviet presence.[^10] In other works, the motif of Tank Torso also appears. That is why it’s better to think of them not as a single solitary sculpture, but as an entire language of Černý’s. What Remains of a Monument to Power? First, the monument says: we are the victors. Then the system changes. The monument becomes a problem. Then someone paints it pink. Then fragments remain. And then the question arises: is a piece of tank still a symbol of power? Or just a museum relic? Černý loves this moment. The moment when a symbol loses its confidence. 10. London Booster – A Bus Doing Push Ups London Booster – Chodov, 2012 Wikipedia: London Booster At the end of this journey, we get something that sounds like a joke invented after a few beers. A red London bus. Doing push ups. And it’s really hard to write that sentence in a more serious way. London Booster was created in 2012 in connection with the Olympic Games in London. Černý took the characteristic British double decker and attached huge mechanical arms. Hydraulics lift the bus. Lower it. Lift. Lower. The vehicle works out. Sport or Punishment? Černý himself explained that the idea came from associating push ups less with sport and more with punishment: misbehaved? Fifty push ups. The sculpture was equipped with hydraulic mechanics, electronics, and LED screens.[^11] It is absurdity in its purest form. The bus was not created for exercise. It should carry people. Meanwhile, its function is reversed. From transport to athlete. From utility machine to organism. Černý and the Culture of the Big Spectacle You can stop at the joke. The bus does push ups. End of story. But the Olympic Games are, after all, a huge spectacle. Sport. Money. National representation. Media. Advertising. Politics. Millions of people watching bodies perform things they probably never will themselves. And next to it stands a red bus and works out. A bit silly. A bit heroic. A bit like the entire culture of big sporting spectacles. Today, London Booster is located in Chodov and remains one of Černý’s most characteristic kinetic works.[^11] Epilogue – When We Want to Laugh, Though Our Hearts Tremble At the end of the walk, you start to understand that Černý is actually always doing one thing. He takes something we know. And shifts it a few centimeters. Kafka has a face. But the face falls apart. Freud is a man. But he has no ground beneath his feet. Wenceslas is a national hero. But the horse beneath him is dead. The fountain is a fountain. But it pees on the state. The child is a child. But has no face. The camera is a camera. But it watches you. The Trabant is a car. But it walks. The tank is a symbol of military power. But you can paint it pink. The bus is a bus. But it does push ups. All of Černý’s work repeats one sentence: things don’t have to mean what we were told they mean. And perhaps that is why he fits Prague so well. Because the history of this city has repeatedly proven that things can suddenly change meaning. An empire can vanish. A state can arise. A state can be occupied. A system can fall. A monument to a hero can become a monument to an occupier. A tank can change color. A street can change its name. A border can disappear. Power that seemed eternal can, one morning, cease to exist. Prague has learned a certain caution toward big words. And that is why, instead of answering with pathos, it very often answers with humor. Dark. Dry. Absurd. The humor of a person who has seen so many versions of history that they look at each subsequent one with a slight smile. Unconventional Prague – You Don’t Have to See Everything on the First Day I wouldn’t try to drive around all these sculptures in two hours. That’s not the point. Černý is a good pretext to see the different cities hidden within one Prague. The Center with the Head of Kafka. Old Town with Freud. Lucerna with Saint Wenceslas. Lesser Town with the Peeing Men and the history of the Trabant. Žižkov with the Miminka. Nové Butovice with Trifot. Smíchov and its contemporary art. Chodov with the athlete bus. This is a completely different map than the classic: Charles Bridge → Square → Castle → beer. And that is exactly why it’s worth walking this path sometimes. If you are in Prague for the first time and want to understand the basics of the city first, see Prague in a Nutshell . If you are more interested in unconventional Prague , the 20th century, and architecture that doesn’t try to please everyone, also check out the walk Brutalism – Letná . And if, after a whole day of strange sculptures, you still crave a darker city, there is Prague in the Shadow of Legends – Ghosts of the Old Town . All current routes can be found on – Prague tours with a Polish guide . Because sometimes the best way to explore Prague is not to seek the most beautiful places. But the strangest ones. And when you start looking for them, you’ll discover something else. In Prague, absurdity doesn’t ruin history. It often helps you understand it. Notes [^1]: David Černý, K. / Kafka Head – official description of the kinetic sculpture at Quadrio: over 10 meters high, 42 rotating stainless steel panels, electronics, and 21 drive modules: David Černý – K.. [^2]: David Černý, Man Hanging Out – official description of the 1996 work and the artist’s commentary on Freud, the end of the 20th century, and the future role of the intellectual: David Černý – Man Hanging Out. [^3]: David Černý, Saint Wenceslas – official description of the 1999 work located in the Lucerna Palace and the author’s quote about the “dead” national horse and the state turned upside down: David Černý – Saint Wenceslas. [^4]: David Černý, Streams – official description of the interactive fountain from 2004, the electronic system, and the concept of “writing” with a water stream, along with the context of the Czech wordplay. [^5]: David Černý, Babies – official documentation of the Miminka cycle and the installation on the Žižkov tower: David Černý – works. [^6]: David Černý, Trifot – official documentation of the 12 meter installation from 2016 using cameras, electronics, and an image system: David Černý – works. [^7]: David Černý, Brown nosers – official description of the 2003 installation, its political context, and the figures of Milan Knížák and Václav Klaus: David Černý – Brown nosers. [^8]: David Černý, Quo Vadis (Trabant) – official history of the 1990 work, events around the West German embassy in Prague in 1989, and the bronze cast located in the embassy garden: David Černý – Quo Vadis. [^9]: David Černý, artist biography – information about painting the Soviet tank pink in 1991 and the artist’s brief detention: David Černý – About. [^10]: David Černý, A Hundred Grams of Tank – fragment of an authentic T 34 tank and the history of the attempt to reuse the pink tank motif on Náměstí Kinských: David Černý – A Hundred Grams of Tank. [^11]: David Černý, London Booster – official description of the kinetic bus from 2012, the hydraulic mechanism, and the inspiration of push ups as a form of athletic effort and punishment: David Černý – London Booster.

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