The Streams sculpture (2004), also known as the Peeing or the Pissing Sculpture, is one of Prague’s most intriguing and unconventional public artworks. It is located in the courtyard of the Kafka Museum near the Vltava River and Charles Bridge. The two bronze sculptures are two metres in height and depict naked men urinating into a shallow pool, which is designed to resemble the shape of the Czech Republic. In the past it was also possible to send a text message and the figures would write out your words, but that feature has been disabled as there were frequent malfunctions.
As with other sculptures by David Černý, it is up to the viewer to decide what they mean. In an interview published in the Los Angeles Times, the author suggested that the sculpture could be interpreted as a typical dialogue between two politicians, in which one is trying to outsmart the other one, literally to piss farther to “gain more ground”. Those Czechs who experienced “the wild 1990s” in the country after the Velvet Revolution can easily imagine some cheeky politicians who became owners of companies and stripped them of their assets, for example, or did not always use honest methods to outsmart their competitors, or the state.
However, in one of his catalogues, David Černý uncovers another possible layer of meaning, which is simply to mock the uncivilized habit of urinating in public; something that still keeps happening in this country and other countries of the former Soviet block, perhaps more than elsewhere. In the more civilized world, they only have fountains with boys urinating water, here in the Czech Republic you might occasionally see a (drunk) man urinating next to a dustbin or a tree; hence grown-up men part of the sculpture. Perhaps not just to relieve their bladders, but also a sign of aggression, or marking their territories (mocking masculinity). In this case, given the size of the Czech Republic, the territory to urinate into is pretty small, and perhaps the country not strong enough to rise up to those who take advantage of it. Therefore the sculpture may also mock Czech national identity, or some of its forms. Regardless of how visitors interpret this artwork, it may stimulate them to engage in a broader discussion about freedom of expression (including nudity) and the role of art in society.
David Černý is a renowned Czech artist best known for his thought-provoking and often controversial sculptures. Born in Prague in 1967, Černý has made a significant impact on the contemporary art scene both in the Czech Republic and internationally. His works frequently challenge societal norms, political subjects, and historical narratives, making him a major figure in modern art. Following his studies at the Academy of Art, Architecture, and Design in Prague (UMPRUM), he quickly established a reputation as a daring artist willing to challenge stereotypes and question authority through art.
He gained further international recognition after creating his sculpture called “Entropa” for the Czech Republic’s presidency of the European Union (2009; now located at the Techmania Science Centre in Pilsen). It challenges stereotypes about European countries and encourages both humorous and critical interpretations. David Černý is an innovative artist who has a way of keeping himself consistently visible, and succeeds in installing new sculptures throughout the country without relying on European or state funds. You can explore his works at various locations, including his gallery called Musoleum (near Praha-Smíchov train station), and occasional temporary exhibitions.
The following are David Černý‘s other best-known sculptures in the centre of Prague:
Franz Kafka’s Head, 2014 (Quadrio, Narodni Avenue)
Saint Wenceslas, 1999 (Lucerna, Vodičkova Street).
Spitfire Butterflies, 2024 (Máj, Narodni Avenue). It is composed of two butterflies in constant motion, perhaps to symbolise the delicate balance between war (planes) and peace (fragile butterflies). An ingenious concept, given that the name of the shopping centre was Máj long before the two spring butterflies landed on it, and Prague was liberated by the Soviet Army in May 1945, which is a month in the spring. In addition, the planes might remind us of the free WW2 Anthropoid Operation Crypt a few blocks away, many of whose participants had undergone training in Britain in the RAF. Both butterflies are particularly impressive at night, when they are beautifully illuminated. This makes it an ideal location for a night-time stroll from the butterflies towards the Dancing House, whis also glows in the dark.
Man Hanging Out, 1996 (Husova St near the Old Town Square). Perhaps Sigmund Freud, perhaps an intellectual pondering about the state of this world and our future, juggling the pros and cons of his life and our civilization. Perhaps too much out of this world, like many intellectuals. Surprisingly lifelike at a distance, so some people have sincerely interpreted it as a person in danger, or perhaps about to commit suicide, which is certainly a Freudian topic.
Věra, 2024. (Originally exhibited in Paris during the Olympics, this moving sculpture is now situated behind Tyrš House in Kampa.) It pays a tribute to the Czech gymnast Věra Čáslavská, the renowned multiple Olympic medalist who courageously stood up against the Soviet Occupation in 1968.
Lilith, 2022 (Karlín, tram stop Invalidovna). A This sculpture is a twenty-four-metre steel sculpture of a strong woman holding up a block of flats. It could be interpreted as a tribute to the strength of women, who support humankind, men and children.
Babies, 2001. The first set of babies are ten plastic sculptures of babies climbing up the Žižkov TV Tower. The second set consists of three metal babies crawling near the Kampa Museum, a museum of modern art. Finally, there has been one metal baby near Atrium Žižkov since 2020. They all have something like a code instead of a face, which gives them a somewhat eerie and futuristic appearance. According to the author, they are meant to symbolise the pros and cons of technological advances and their impact on people.
Despite the possible interpretations of David Černý’s art above, no interpretation of any of his sculptures is necessarily the right one, as he himself acknowledged. We invite you to formulate your own interpretation.
