Chain by Zdeněk Manina


You are standing at the entrance of the iconic steel Golden Bridge (Zlatý most) in České Budějovice. The bridge, painted in deep steel blue, stretches ahead with its industrial arching supports forming a symmetrical tunnel-like perspective. Centred high above the cobblestone path, suspended from the topmost horizontal beam, are three human figures. All present completely nude, slightly larger than life-size men. Each figure is identical. Each is cast in a warm terracotta-colored laminate, smooth yet matte in surface. That evokes a sense of clay or earth, but with a more modern and synthetic texture. 

All limbs of men are elongated in expressive, balletic poses. Arms are stretched dramatically upwards as if grasping for the sky or clinging to currents of wind. 

All men are bold. Their faces show no emotion. So the men are a bit like shop mannequins. The bodies are slender with slightly defined muscles. The genitals, in a state of repose, have a size known more from antique sculptures than from nature.

The men’s hands are stretched upwards, with spread fingers. They are in a gesture of grasping or reaching for something.

The three sculptures are suspended from thin steel wires, giving the illusion of midair flight – levitating, soaring, or caught mid-fall depending on your perspective. They are hung so high that it is impossible to touch them. The sculptures are spaced evenly apart, about 4 meters long. When viewed from a distance, it is impossible to tell whether they are a representation of three figures or three freeze frames of the movement of one figure. 

The figures are flying through space—there is no up or down for them. They don’t know how the flight will end. They perceive each moment. They shape their bodies to better control their movement. They stay together. They sense that, as a formation, they are stronger and have a better chance. When united, all possibilities become possible. They haven’t given up. That, too, is freedom. Without one part, the chain breaks—and everything begins again. Or maybe—they are flying upward; the tilt of their bodies suggests it. They can end the flight at any moment. They are fully in control. In their world, guided by the logic of dreams, this is possible. We watch their freedom with admiration. The sculpture Chain (Řetěz) was created in 2009 as a commission for the city of Vitry-sur-Seine in the Greater Paris area, for the Lilac Festival (Fête des Lilas). The author began sketching the first drafts of this sculpture in the late 1990s, but he didn’t have the courage to bring it to life. He was afraid of the technical challenges, which he eventually resolved along the way. In France, the sculpture was named Partage („Sharing“). Chain is made of fiberglass. Inside each figure is a steel framework, through which the sculptures are bolted together at the hands and shins.

AA