VŠUP awarded honorary doctorates to Šimotová and Kaplický

Like every academic institution, the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design in Prague is authorized to confer honorary doctorates. By awarding the title of "honorary doctor", we want to draw attention to the role that our university has played and continues to play in the creation and consolidation of cultural values in Czech and European society. This distinction is awarded annually to one or two personalities who have significantly contributed to the quality of cultural life in the Czech and European contexts through their lifelong work. The decisive factor in selecting these artistic personalities is their connection with the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design in Prague, whether as alumni, educators, or external collaborators. In this sense, the selection of personalities is limited to the time period from the founding of our university at the end of the nineteenth century to the present day.
This year, Mrs. academic painter Adriena Šimotová and Mr. academic architect Jan Kaplický were nominated for the honorary doctorate and approved by the Artistic Council of the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design in Prague; both are alumni of the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design in Prague.
Adriena Šimotová is recognized for her artistic work not only in the Czech Republic but also internationally, and she is one of the most prominent Czech artists of the 20th century. Jan Kaplický gained fame for his unique creative approach, which under the name "future systems" in architecture seeks to synthesize organic and constructive elements. Jan Kaplický ranks among the world’s leading contemporary architects.
Alongside Professor Stanislav Libeňský and Professor Josef Svoboda, Mrs. academic painter Adriena Šimotová and Mr. academic architect Jan Kaplický are the only personalities to have received this highest academic award from the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design in Prague after 1989.

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LAUDATIO
Prof. Ing. arch. Eva Magdalena Jiřičná

Jan Kaplický was born in Prague in April 1937. It is certainly no coincidence that both of his parents, who were artists, carefully nurtured the talent of their gifted son from the very beginning; unfortunately, they did not live to see his later successes. Even in his earliest steps, the future artist demonstrated a natural ability to hold both a toy and a pencil in his left hand, and despite the diligent efforts of a multitude of expert teachers, doctors, and many prominent specialists, he was never able to be re-taught from left-handedness to right-handedness. However, he miraculously learned to use both hands without any issues. To the astonishment of those around him, who had usually never encountered anything similar, Jan is capable, in crisis situations, of drawing simultaneously with two pencils using both hands at the same time. Perhaps you will agree with me in the subsequent parts of my profile of Jan Kaplický that this special "phenomenon" has likely contributed to the incredible amount of work Jan Kaplický has created in his life and which he will undoubtedly surpass.
This small anecdote can perhaps also serve as an introduction to the characterization of Jan Kaplický's work, which never conforms to expectations, and whose every professional manifestation is not only something new, something that no one expected or could imagine but also something that occasionally shocks and potentially irritates those who are reluctant to change their views or beliefs.
In 1956, Jan Kaplický was accepted to study architecture at the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design, which he graduated from in 1962. During his studies at VŠUP, Jan not only successfully mastered his architectural curriculum but also engaged in a variety of other artistic activities: his fashion designs for beautiful students and friends are well known, especially from his minimalist period—the designs of women's swimsuits—bikinis. As part of his already mentioned industriousness, Jan Kaplický was at the same time a diligent student and in his spare time a member of Pavel Bobek’s choir. His friends surely remember how he successfully hummed or sang in Bobek’s renowned choir in the evenings.
After graduating from the art school, Jan, like his contemporaries, spent two years in military service, where he skillfully and, as usual, carefully avoided everything related to military education, primarily discipline, respect for superiors, and submission to higher authorities.
It should be noted that Kaplický's interest in architecture was always deep and serious: I can even confirm that to the sound of Bobek's singing and the gramophone transmission of Buddy Holly's music at a New Year's party in the summer residence of his friend Ernest in 1961, I led a very concentrated and deeply intellectual discussion with the honored guest about... architecture!
After a brief period of building his practice in Czechoslovakia and the arrival of Russian tanks, Jan Kaplický moved to London, where the next 40 years of his professional life took place. In 1968, London was an incredible dream and reality for a Czech emigrant. On one hand, it brought freedom, of which a poor immigrant from a country behind the Iron Curtain had no inkling; on the other hand, the emigrant faced skepticism towards "suspicious individuals" and struggled to find employment. It was a time of frequent visits to émigré institutions, police stations, and endless queues primarily for the purpose of extending residence permits, and miserable salaries...
However, Kaplický never cared about the salary level but rather the quality of the office for which he worked. After a brief period at a firm where architects were employed to trace the drawings of their superiors, Kaplický began working at the studio of Denys Lasdun (the author of the National Theatre in London, one of the most important buildings of this period). He then moved on to the studio of Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano, Spence and Webster, Louis de Soissons Architects, and Norman Foster. In all these offices, although he was completely unknown, he gained admiration on one hand, while on the other hand, he sometimes stirred tension with his extraordinary perspective on things and his talent. While it can be said that Kaplický sought experience and became familiar with the working methodology in the "new world," his contribution to the work of these very well-established offices is visible, and his strong creative personality remains distinctly recognizable in the projects in which he participated during his time at these architectural studios. Alongside his daily work in the aforementioned studios, Kaplický worked at home on his own projects, participated in competitions, and his strong visualizations were very often published, exhibited, and became well recognized in the rich repertoire of the 1970s. Outside his personal competitions and projects, Kaplický glued plastic models of airplanes—his collection, always carefully guarded against anything harmful—the influence of cleaners, women, time, and dust, and even the inquisitive activity of his son Pepíček, who was allowed everything in the world except for the insensitive touch of his father's little airplanes, has undoubtedly reached a record size. Through this activity, Kaplický became intimately acquainted with technical projects, and this understanding later opened the way for him to detailed elaboration of his designs. London in the 60s and 70s was dominated by the first domestic post-war generation that took the helm and began to create a new world, which, like with every young generation, meant dismantling old values, replacing established rules with new ones, and new imagination. The landing of man on the surface of the Moon confirmed that everything is possible and that the future is within reach. In both fashion and art, music, and architecture, everything new was given a green light; the more shocking and unusual the shape or project, the greater the hope for success. Kaplický became an integral part of this generation, gaining contacts with the global architectural scene often through his collaborators and astounding his friends and the public with his distinctive work and projects, which were accepted for the summer exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts, at the Design Center, in Artnet, and other institutions. During his brief involvement in the Brighton Marina project, he met his future collaborator David Nixon; together they won their first competition and in 1979 founded the firm Future Systems.
The next 10 years saw a growing popularity of Kaplický’s name through a plethora of published works, exhibitions, and lectures. Although Kaplický worked in Norman Foster's office until 1984, during these 10 years, Future Systems exhibited in Los Angeles, the Centre Pompidou in Paris, the Museum of Architecture in Frankfurt, in San Diego, the Royal Institute of British Architects in London, ICA in London, the Biennale in Nagoya, Japan, and elsewhere.
During the 70s and 80s, the young London generation grew, becoming sufficiently experienced to take responsibility for projects suitable for realization, and the dreams that remained only fantasies in the 60s and early 70s began to be constructed and to influence societal views on architecture, art, and life in general. The Centre Pompidou was built, which subsequently became a center of French cultural life, although its authors were English and Italian. In London, Richard Rogers built the Lloyds Insurance Company building, Norman Foster constructed an administrative building in Ipswich, and James Stirling realized a colorful fiberglass building for the Olivetti Training Centre after his glass library in Leicester. After the economic crisis, a period of economic boom followed, new materials came onto the scene, and the collaboration between structural engineers and architects created a new face of architecture. David Nixon moved to America, and Amanda Levete became a partner in Future Systems in 1989. Although Jan Kaplický’s name had been known for a long time, the 90s and the beginning of the new millennium witnessed an extraordinary explosion in all areas of Kaplický’s work. With the arrival of larger projects, his office expanded alongside the growing interest in new projects. Future Systems participated in international competitions, such as the competition for the New Acropolis Museum in Athens, La Grande Bibliotheque and Musee de Quai Branly in Paris, and the new building of the Natural History Museum in London. They realized projects like the Hauer-King House, a private house in Wales, a floating pedestrian bridge in Docklands, the Selfridges department store in Birmingham, and the Maserati museum in Modena.
Between 1989 and the present, Jan Kaplický has participated in around eighty exhibitions at the Royal Academy in London, numerous Biennales in Venice, Triennials in Milan, China, Japan, Hong Kong, Los Angeles, San Diego, and elsewhere. He has lectured in over 25 countries and participated in working symposiums with students at various universities. Countless articles have been published about Jan Kaplický, and 13 books on him have been published, the latest being the monograph Future Systems written by Deyan Sudjic. In the Czech Republic, Kaplický's works were published in Zlatý Řez and Revue Labyrint. Future Systems has received a total of 31 awards, of which I can name a few, including the British Construction Industry Award, Bovis Royal Academy Award, Civic Trust awards, World Architecture Award, Designer of The Year Award, Outstanding Retail Experience Award, and many others. In 1999, Future Systems won the award for the best building of the year, named the Stirling Prize in honor of the famous British architect James Stirling, for its Media Centre at the Lord's Cricket Ground in London.
Although Jan Kaplický’s name and works are known practically all over the world, his activity in the Czech Republic was, until recently, limited to a few lectures and unrealized projects. Recently, his winning proposal in the competition for the National Library in Prague has become the center of attention, admiration, embarrassment, and also hateful criticism. I cannot help but draw a comparison with the celebration that took place in this space of Prague Crossroads a few weeks ago on the occasion of the award of the Dagmar and Václav Havel Prize to Stanislav Grof for his experimental work in psychology and the effects of drugs on the human subconscious. His outstanding and contemporary controversial impact likely met with a similar reaction from the global public as Kaplický’s library. I will never forget the beautiful introduction by Václav Havel, who with his characteristic humor described which groups of the public unusual individuals like Grof (and also Jan Kaplický) must avoid. They are both fanatics, who see things distorted and are unable to adapt their perception to anything other than what they themselves have created, and others—I dare not change the author's words, but in my clumsy translation it meant something like narrow-minded people.
What else to add to the profile of Jan Kaplický’s personality—perhaps that he is a person to whom, like many others, an extraordinary talent was bestowed. Unlike many others, however, Kaplický developed this talent regardless of success or failure. Despite all the difficulties he had to overcome in life, he never gave up hope that his work would one day receive recognition. His absolute concentration on his own artistic activity is exemplary, and his indomitable spirit and industriousness are hard to explain in words. For those who do not know him: Kaplický has an extraordinary vision of the world around him and is simultaneously capable of a genius interpretation of his ideas. He also has a sense of extraordinary yet realistic detail.
Jan Kaplický's creativity knows no bounds. His work is poetic even though it stems from technology and his extensive knowledge of all kinds. His vision is presented in free forms—so-called "plastic architecture," which Kaplický explains through his understanding of nature, where "straight lines" do not exist either. This way of expression gives him freedom of thought and creation.
Kaplický’s work is characterized not only by its shape but also by the ability to see the future in relation to the environment and life in general, but at the same time by the courage to work (unlike many of his professional colleagues) with color. His world of inspiration draws from all aspects of life, from architects and architecture to artists and art, fashion, airplanes, cars, ships, space discoveries, everyday life objects like utensils or glasses for water, and to nature, which among other things created the beauty of the female body. Like Oscar Wilde, Kaplický resists everything except temptation… His extraordinary sense of beauty, whether embodied in a beautiful woman or a glass of good brandy, is evident throughout his work. His vision belongs to the younger generation, and thus he often faces criticism from the older generation or even from the younger but rigid one.
In his book Confessions, Kaplický confesses that he still loves women, fennel, good wine, and brandy. He dreams of new friendships, an intimate dinner in Paris, realizing a project for a new museum, a house by the sea, and a garden. His dream has already been partly fulfilled; the rest will undoubtedly follow. In one sentence, Jan Kaplický’s work is characterized by spirit, beauty, free form, and color.
His mother, the beautiful Mrs. Kaplická, once confided in me how her son sent her a postcard during his long stay abroad with the following hieroglyph: OK JK. I now turn to Jan with his own words: IT's OK, JK!

Magnificence, esteemed Rector, we ask you to consent to the conferral of the highest academic title doctor honoris causa.

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LAUDATIO
Prof. PhDr. Josef Hlaváček

Perhaps we may be forgiven if in the introduction to this honor we refer to another honor, namely the honor that Milan Kundera paid to Denis Diderot. In the last scene of his play Jacob and His Master, both heroes argue about where and how to go. Ultimately, they decide to go forward, but do not know where this forward is. Jacob eventually reveals to his "little master," as he calls him, the old trick of humanity that is, that forward is everywhere. The master then, relieved, commands: "Forward".
In a similar situation were the sixties of the last century. Rationalist concepts led to dead ends of concentration camps, gulags, and endless wars, and new ones were sought. Art was similarly affected: after all, it was the art of this society and also had to look for new ways to arrange the plane of the image and relief. In this process, art truly took all directions, and it had an unusually high number of creators, among whom women were prominently represented. Among the most prominent were, which is an honor for this high institution, precisely the graduates of the Academy of Art, Architecture and Design: Věra Janoušková, Eva Kmentová, and Adriena Šimotová. Each of them, as we know today, contributed an original facet to the mosaic of Czech second avant-garde, and today we want to pay tribute to the contribution of our Mrs. Adriena Šimotová.
Her entry onto the scene of the sixties was not, however, dramatic; she herself sees her lyrical temperas and gouaches from that period as expressions of simple sensory enchantment. They were masterpieces, original works that appreciated the years of apprenticeship in the protectorate at the State Graphic School.
What we associate with the exhalation of her name, though, appears in the nervous lines of drawings from the early seventies. The trembling lines full of tension and suggesting submerged depths on the surface are not only an echo of one of the most fateful wounds that accompany her life and work, but also a forewarning of the creations that would later be categorized under the aegis of great drawing. It is precisely these drawings breaking the surface of the white paper that highlighted its very quality and laid out the path which Mrs. Adriena's technical and, above all, spiritual innovation would follow.
We all remember it, we all recall it. The paper was moistened so it could be wrinkled in a suggestion of drapery—an unforgettable homage to antiquity. It began to layer, revealing new meanings through flipping and unfolding. It was tormented, torn, and perforated to express various spiritual turns and situations. One could walk through it, it became a gateway. It was possible to press against it; it became a chronicler of body and history (let's recall the stay in the monastery in Hostinné); frottages and decals were further emphasized by powdered color pigment. In the end, the paper completely abandoned the surface to become a sculpture, as in the group Reading.
What was happening with paper and Mrs. Adriena? Just as Czech writer Milan Kundera wrote his most significant works in French, Adriena Šimotová animated the Francophile environment in which she grew up with such a Czech expression that was so deeply internalized and spiritualized that we cannot help but recall the Platonic conception of souls, each of which has its tessera hospitalis, a fragment of a tile or coin, that seeks its counterpart.
Each of Mrs. Adriena’s works is such a tessera, which seeks us and invites us to spiritual and magical harmony.
That is why today we elevate the work of our Mrs. Adriena and ask Magnificence, esteemed Rector, to consent to the conferral of the highest academic title.