Grain elevators are fascinating objects for me. Structures of the grain elevators form the visual dominant of numerous Czech and Slovak settlements. They visually play similar role as the medieval castles played in the past. They are, therefore, an archetype of the human intervention to the landscape. Almost every person can recollect some of his or her „own silo“ located around their hometown. Still their function and interior fittings are encircled by mystery. Sometimes I consider their surrounding as much important as the silo itself. These „ordinary landscapes” tell the story about our time by recording unspectacular details – deferred material, cars, typography, etc.
The most interesting fact on the grain elevators is that we do not actually see them. Nothing in the world is as invisible as the grain elevators. These monuments have undoubtedly been built to be looked at and perhaps even to attract attention. But at the same time they are impregnated with some surface distracting the attention. Every day we pass by or drive by car around them. They serve us as a compass or scale of distance. We perceive them as a tree, as part of a common street scene and if one day they were not in place, we would be confused and stop immediately. But till that moment we never look at them and admire them. This phenomena can undoubtedly be explained. Everything permanent lapses its effectiveness. Everything that forms the walls of our lives, as the backdrop of our consciousness, loses the ability to play a role in this consciousness. Unpleasant noise after several hours we no longer hear. The paintings we hang on the wall are sucked in those walls in a few days. The books read in half, which we insert among other gorgeous volumes in the library, will never be finished.