I’ve got a real inner quarrel with those asses. My annoyance with politics peaked and it was impossible to not say anything. On the other hand I feel that I’ve reached the extreme limit. The sculpture reflects the time. But I like it when things exist as such and are timeless, completely pure. Although this spring a journalist from Los Angeles came to visit me and told me that when he climbed up to those butts and looked inside, everything was completely clear to him. He didn’t need to know any period context at all.

This connection seems perfectly significant to me. For this period, for this nation, for the political anti-culture. Ex-avant-garde artist Knížák, appointed director [of the National Gallery] by the political authorities, and the would-be popular Klaus, elected President with the help of the Bolsheviks, are feeding each other. Mutually smearing porridge and all kinds of secretions around their mouths. These sculptures are just my non-verbal expression, which I felt was pretty spot on.

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