Elder Grove
Bzí is the ideal village.
Bzí means to take a step further in the debate about today's villages. It has a solid foundation on which to build.
In Bzí, there lives an active community of industrious people. There is a renewed connection, bond, and community from which the village and architecture once arose.
Bzí associations, events, concerts, celebrations, masquerades. A group of enthusiastic thirty-somethings and all two hundred residents of the village in a carnival parade. Lots of fun, laughter, good food from good people. The pride of villagers in their place.
All village matters are discussed at one table by everyone who is interested in anything. The ideal of today's thinking about the village.

I asked what I can do here? Where can I move forward? How can I deepen, affirm, seal, enhance this state? I walked through the village and around, attended the annual meeting, and got to know many residents.
I thought about the history and origin of the village, read legends. In one of them, it is written that during the construction of today's stone church, lost church bells were found in the elder bushes behind the homestead - and also one morning.
Elder = bzí, elderberry, elder bushes, elder! Run! And I based my proposal on black elder. Sambucus nigra. I discovered that it has countless uses as a particularly medicinal herb.
Elder wine, elder juice, syrup, jam, wraps, flowers, tinctures, berries, elderflowers, Proto-Slavic elder flute, elder tea, from leaves and flowers. Nerves, pains, inflammations, bronchial issues, digestion, etc..
Tip your hat before chamomile, kneel before elder.

Between the village and the open countryside... On the slope above the Sokol Hall, we will plant Elder Grove with a small wooden temple - a herb dryer. The first floor hosts (and digs into the slope) an outdoor workshop for processing elder and occasional production of herbal and fruit products. A few tables, barrels, shelves, and a press for fruits. Above, elder is dried. In retractable frames. In the middle, the meadow continues, further, as if nothing. The only place without elder and elder bushes. And meadow festivals, summer seating, little theater, winter sliding...

On the village square stands Bezovna, an elder tea house, offering tea, wine, juice, and other local products. It stands on an original terrain stone wall that separates two levels, both in height and significance. An intense connection to the land, an unexpected additional layer. It contains a small studio. It can be cozy during pilgrimages. It is unpretentious and, apart from the bar area, completely open. A large church with "one cross corridor." Pilgrimage stalls.
Both buildings blend into the surroundings and serve the people, the herb dryer more for the residents, the elder tea house more outward and they have countless uses.

About the Village
Bzí, as we can guess from the name, is not just any village. It stands on a hill between hills and rocks, on the edge of the Bohemian Paradise, between Malá Skála and Železný Brod. Since ancient times, it has been a parish center of a large area, and there has long been a wooden church here. Interestingly, despite its importance, the mountain village was founded somewhat in concealment, away from surrounding paths and views. In the 16th century, a large stone church was built to accommodate believers from the entire area and to provide lodging for pilgrims.

Life in the harsh landscape was not easy, and mere cultivation of the land could not sustain people here. Various crafts developed, primarily jewelry.

Although the village has only about two hundred residents, its location, prominence, and integration into the landscape still make it an exceptional place, and the locals are rightly proud of it. It is still, in a certain sense, somewhere beneath the surface, the center or node of the surrounding landscape, even though no important roads pass through it. The aim of the project is to uncover and strengthen this sense.

Bzí has a strong center and sharp, pronounced edges. Surrounding a large part of the village, behind the homesteads, between barns, and between gardens and fields, rows of fruit trees have been planted. They form a kind of imaginary filter between the village and the open countryside.

The settlement structure is radial; from any place, it draws you to the square and to the church. The village is, although in the north, originally Czech. They supposedly arose when a group of people agreed and founded a new village around the square. German villages grew in the borderlands along the roads, with people moving into them gradually from various parts of the country and often not knowing each other. This moment of neighborliness and active relationships seems to have permanently impressed the structure of the community. I have not yet encountered any such socially interconnected community.

First of all, there are several associations in the village. The volunteer fire department with many activities for children, a theater association, an archery club, a beautification society, and Sokol. It was at Sokol that the whole new Bzí awakened fifteen years ago. A few years after the revolution, the city of Železný Brod wanted to convert the unused Sokol building into a warehouse for some Dutch company. The residents rallied, established Sokol, and reconstructed the building. Later, they succeeded in obtaining top-notch playground equipment from European funds, which stands right next to the Sokol Hall.

While an unknown visitor to the village is drawn to the square, the contemporary cultural and social life of the village primarily takes place in the Sokol Hall. Here, events and concerts are organized several times a year, attracting people from far and wide. Throughout the year, the entire village comes alive with traditional events like the masquerade parade, Bzí pilgrimage, garden celebration, Bzí gathering, and more...

Journey to Bzí
Once, I walked to Bzí for about half a day. I planned my route a bit circuitously to experience the surrounding landscape. I set off from Rakousy, but I took too long surrounded by the dragon cliffs at Malá Skála, and so I hurried up the hill to the village of Sněhov. On the way, I caught a bus because I started having doubts about the correctness of my route. However, it forgot my request to stop at Mukařov, so I ended up somewhere in Doksy. From there, I ran back to Mukařov, where I suddenly found myself at the spot where we parked a month ago during our studio trip to the villages. I walked along a muddy path into the fields, where a small, half-abandoned settlement of several log cabins unexpectedly emerged in the ravine before me. I continued through the forest and another field until I reached Huntířov. "On the hill beyond that clearing in the forest is Bzí." On the hill stood several linden trees, a bench, and a wayside cross. Fields, behind them rows of fruit trees and above them a large church with an octagonal tower. I arrived at the beautification society's annual meeting an hour late. "We gather for everything at the Sokol Hall." I walked around the unusually large Sokol Hall and entered. The passionate debate of the locals mixed with the screams of children reached the entrance. "Good evening." Thirty faces looked up at me, including mine, as I only then realized how out of place I looked here. Black, muddy, frozen, and with a large backpack on my back. They didn't ask me anything; they seated me at the head of the table opposite the mayor. I was served a pint of beer, a pile of pastries, and sausages with bread and mustard. Although I’m more of a vegetarian, nothing better could have happened to me at that moment. When I then responded that I had been on the road all day and that I primarily came here to eat and drink well, the last remnants of formality vanished from the atmosphere. Before I finished eating, the association resolved questions regarding the old-fashioned pilgrimage and the planned construction of a new alley. Then attention returned to me, and we discussed the village and everything possible. I received probing questions regarding the meaning or benefit of my work. We talked about history, celebrations, and the landscape. In the end, I had the opportunity to sit during the evening with several people who move the village event. They are from my parents' generation and lamented that they are somewhat weary after the last fifteen years. In the same breath, however, they added their plans for the summer - a summer art workshop for children, a garden celebration. They wished for me to design a small gazebo for outdoor events on the remaining municipal land next to the playground, where small refreshments could be prepared together and where one could linger during a foot volleyball match or Sunday lunch in the shade.