Franz Kafka Monument, 2003

large monument, bronze, Old Town

How the Franz Kafka Monument Was Created

In 2000, at the initiative of the F. K. Society, led at the time by director Ms. Marta Železná, a competition was announced for the design of the F. K. monument.

Eight prominent Czech sculptors were invited. The competition conditions required a figurative solution, as well as appropriate durability and resistance of the work. The location for the statue was chosen based on the recommendation of experts from Prague City Hall at the intersection of Dušní and Vězeňská streets, between the Spanish Synagogue and the Church of the Holy Spirit in Prague’s first district. The place itself is very symbolic, because in addition to the Kafkas living at Dušní Street No. 27, the border between the Prague districts of Old Town and Josefov runs exactly under the statue, and moreover, the statue finds itself in the spiritual zone of three religions – between a synagogue, a Catholic church, and a Protestant church. Kafka spent practically his entire short life in this pensive and romantic part of old Prague.

The competition was won by sculptor and painter Jaroslav Róna, born in 1957, a graduate of the glass art studio at the Prague Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design, with a design for a sculpture consisting of two bodies. Upon closer inspection, we find that the lower massive figure is only an empty men’s suit (i.e., jacket and trousers), carrying the figure of Franz Kafka himself on its shoulders (like a child). One of his hands rests freely on his thigh, while the other hand, bent at a right angle to the body, points its index finger straight ahead in the direction of “travel”. According to the sculptor’s interpretation, the monument’s design was inspired by Kafka’s significant novella Description of a Struggle. The sculptor approached this “split” solution in connection with the spiritual dichotomy that the writer himself reveals in his texts. In the text of the novella, one character (K) at a certain moment jumps onto the shoulders of his previously dominant companion and rides him like a horse through the landscape, which he invents as he rides and sometimes modifies during the journey. Because a significant part of the novella Description of a Struggle takes place on the Vltava embankment, Róna used the terrain break near the monument to place a copy of the embankment railing and cyclopean masonry to evoke the atmosphere of the text. (In collaboration with the studio of architect David Vávra). The sculptor’s intention was to evoke the menacing and absurdly humorous poetics of Kafka’s works. The statue has many interpretations, which could be in constant motion along with time. (At least according to the wish of sculptor J. Róna).

The monument is made of bronze, measures 375 cm in height, and weighs 800 kg. From the winning design to casting and installation, the entire project took two years and eight months.

The statue was financed by the Franz Kafka Society from sources provided mainly by the TV Nova Foundation Fund and the Prague City Hall. The entire project – including the competition, awards, casting direction, architectural project direction, construction modifications, and fees – cost four million crowns.

Speech delivered on the occasion of the unveiling of the Franz Kafka Monument, December 4, 2003, at 4:30 PM

Dear friends!

During my work on this statue, I often asked myself by what strange twist of fate it is I who has the incredible honor of creating a monument for this amazing, brilliant man. His work combined unnamable existential horror, bizarre absurd humor, and the ability to predict a dreadful future. Throughout the long period since Kafka’s death, the atmosphere in this country, or rather in this territory, was not favorable to a writer of his type and origin. Those artists who actually spent part of their lives in penal camps or trials and would certainly have been able to create a powerful and telling work dedicated to the writer’s memory were paradoxically not allowed to do so for these very reasons. My generation is not the generation of penal camps or trials. Rather, I would say, of the gray area under the castle. We were not intoxicated in our youth by the vision of a better world, nor were we destined to fight for anything. We did not know the true past, we did not believe in the future. We lived by cruel, self-ironic mockery of the present! Perhaps that is why we have Kafka somewhere deep inside us, often without even realizing it.

Somewhere there I see the faint outline of an answer to the question I pose at the beginning. However, I am not naive, and I do not think that we are the ones who have best understood Kafka. I suspect that the writer’s prophetic image of the world is like a huge ice floe, most of which is hidden beneath the surface, and we perceive it only flatly from one angle. Every turn of the floe, or conversely, our movement, can give rise to a different, distinct form of horrific reality that is currently hidden from our eyes. Often it cannot be defended against; it suddenly emerges from the depths and floods our entire horizon until it appears as the only visible and invincible dark force. However, we must always believe that somewhere beneath it lies a person who, by clearly naming it, will help, at least slightly, in its always unfortunately only temporary fall. And Kafka was unequivocally such a person. Perhaps this monument will be the very barometer whose existence will determine the character of society. We must not forget the fact that any society other than a democratic one would never agree to its creation.

Jaroslav Róna in Prague, November 19, 2003