When I realized I needed a large sculpture for the Jízda exhibition at Trutnov’s EPO1 to match the tall turbine hall ceilings, I didn’t panic. I knew exactly who to call. I reached out to Jakub Flejšar, explained the situation, and days later, we headed north from Prague to assess the location. Jakub, known for his brevity, silently measured the space with a spark of excitement, eventually saying, “This could work.” His silence fuels his focus on meaningful action.we headed north from Prague days later
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The next day, he sent me a sketch—a hand-drawn figure of a man who had just crossed the finish line, resting after an extraordinary effort. He must have completed a mountain stage or a time trial, pushing himself to the absolute limit. The figure was composed of interconnected wheels. It seemed as if blood coursed through it, while the composition also evoked a unique cycle of life. I couldn’t wait to see how Peloton—the name he gave the sculpture—would evolve.
“It will be red,” he clarified during our next discussion. “And there will be 300 wheels.” Height? “Four and a half meters.” Excellent. The taller, the better. And the length? “Ten meters.” Incredible… I was impressed. Jakub did not disappoint. He kept me updated on the timelines, pouring not only his talent but also his funds into the project. “I want to make it. I want to see it.”
In spring 2024, the sculpture was created in Chomutov, where Jakub typically brings his ideas to life. At Trutnov, the sculpture was hoisted into its precise position using a crane, assembled from five parts. It was quite the adventure—handling a two-ton sculpture was no easy feat, even with the skilled operator of the crane provided by Mr. Kasper, the owner of EPO1 and its adjacent metalworks. It was a far greater challenge than I had imagined. I even strained my back, the Achilles' heel of even the most seasoned cyclists. This kind of effort would have snapped Tadej Pogačar like a twig.
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Those who are afraid should not be on the track, nor in the gallery if you know what I mean.
When everything finally fell into place, we could admire the sculpture. It dominated the gallery, and we adjusted the rest of the installation accordingly. It became both a totem and a symbol of Jízda. For six months, it was the centerpiece of the exhibition, which ended on November 3. Its true existence, however, had just begun, as it was relocated to Horní Malá Úpa, where it was installed at the local ski resort. Peloton experienced its first snowfall and seemed to grow even more under the open sky. The oxygen-rich air suits it well. It watches over Sněžka, and anyone skiing or strolling by can admire it. Skiers will likely meet there, and some may even try to conquer it. The red sculpture, blue sky, and white snow—it’s a tricolor.
Jakub Flejšar was a natural choice for creating a large sculpture. The curator first met him in 2017 while preparing the Skol!!! exhibition on cross-country skiing for the Liberec Regional Gallery. There, Flejšar created an impressive 11-meter sculpture of a skier using iron segments, reflecting his talent and vision for meaningful, large-scale works that invite multiple interpretations. This monumental piece, displayed in a public space, was seen by countless people, showcasing the power of art in the public domain.
Jakub intrigued me because he wasn’t afraid of anything. Courage is a natural part of his character, after all: as a former national snowboardcross representative and later coach (he led Eva Samková to Olympic gold), he had to be fearless. Those who are afraid don’t belong on the track, or in the gallery, if you know what I mean. He was able to redefine a place and bring incredible energy to the exhibition. He confirmed this in 2022 during the Row Row Row exhibition, which I organized with the Sport in Art team and was focused on rowing. It took place during the Rowing World Championship in Račice, where a gallery was even created near the main stand of the National Olympic Water Sports Centre, making it visible during live TV broadcasts to dozens of countries. The gallery was crowned by a sculpture of a rower, woven from steel wires by Jakub Flejšar. When morning fog lingered over the area and the sculpture slowly emerged, it was a magical sight: as if the rower were parting the mist with his oars. Now, it parts the mist by the Vltava River, at the Slavia Prague Rowing Club.
You can read more of Petr Volf's insights from the world of art and sports HERE.
