For years, Miroslav Tichý (born in 1926 in Netcice, Moravia) shot thousands of photographs of women in his small hometown with his hand-made cameras, hidden from the view not only of his subjects, but also of the police, who were keeping a close eye on the eccentric artist thought to be critical of the system. He thus created countless portraits, full body shots and details of shapely women's legs. Tichý waited patiently until the unknowing models coincidentally assumed classical poses in community pools, on the street or on the television screen. The lenses of his cameras, constructed out of cardboard tubes and metal cans, and the primitive developing process lend the photos a haziness, perhaps even a certain sfumato, which appears classical and reminiscent of the old masters. The photographs, all of which are unique, have a certain object character, since they are frequently over-painted to stress particular details or, as the artist says, "retouched". They carry traces of their inadequate storage in Tichý's simple, poorly heated lodgings, which he periodically shared with rats. Hand-made mounts, the artist's fingerprints, the imprint of a fly that got caught in the developing bath, and scratches from the finishing process all underscore the painterly quality of these fascinating photographs.