Artwork of the month:
Andrea Kalinová — from the series Architecture of Care

A set of five photographs from Andrea Kalinová’s extensive series was acquired by the Nitra Gallery through purchase in 2025. This acquisition serves several defined long-term professional objectives of the institution. It supports and expands the gallery’s youngest collection—Photography and Other Media—while simultaneously complementing and balancing it in terms of gender representation. The photographs are part of a wide-ranging project titled Architecture of Care, which includes images from Slovak spa towns (Bojnice, Trenčianske Teplice, Rajecké Teplice). Architecture of Care(2013–2018) was a project that also resulted in a book publication of the same title (Architektúra starostlivosti, Archimera, 2019, in collaboration with Martin Zaiček), which maps the spa architecture of the second half of the 20th century. The title Architecture of Care refers to the state-managed system of preventive balneology established after World War II, which has since been transformed into commercial treatment for various ailments. The photographs Kalinová captured in these spa environments should not be viewed primarily as documentary photography; rather, they can be perceived as traces of visual memory and, at the same time, as a tool for activism and the preservation of endangered spa architecture and heritage sites.

“Slovakia is rich in mineral water resources, thanks to which many towns were transformed into spa zones and numerous spa buildings were constructed. Although the development of spa towns began as early as the 19th century, the greatest attention was paid to this area during the socialist era. The title Architecture of Care refers to the phenomenon of balneology in the territory of present-day Slovakia after the Second World War, but also to the period’s perception of the body, regeneration, and the associated way of life. The Czechoslovak state invested significant financial resources into this field, leading to the creation of specialised institutions focused on the specifics of spa treatment, as well as spa urban planning and architecture. This resulted in unique forms with sophisticated spatial arrangements that reflected the needs of spa visitors.” — A. Kalinová

Spas have always been at the centre of governmental interest; some paid the price with their eventual demise, while others continue to exist today. Currently, the most significant spas in Slovakia are located in: Brusno, Číž, Dudince, Kováčová, Sklené Teplice, Sliač, Štós, Bardejov, Horný Smokovec, Lučivná, Nový Smokovec, Štrbské Pleso, Tatranská kotlina, Tatranské Matliare, Vyšné Ružbachy, Bojnice, Nimnica, Trenčianske Teplice, Piešťany, Smrdáky, Liptovský Ján, Korytnica, Lúčky, Rajecké Teplice, Turčianske Teplice, and Malé Bielice. Defunct spas include, for example, Vyhne or Želiezovce. The state officially grants the licenses required to operate these facilities. Today, more than ten thousand beds have been created for spa guests across various locations in Slovakia.

“To understand what our spas look like today, one must return at least to the mid-1960s. Although the trend of central spa management began as far back as the Austro-Hungarian Empire and continued during the first Czechoslovak Republic—when many spas were state-owned or held by joint-stock companies with state participation—the majority of investments were directed towards the Czech lands, with only a few locations in Slovakia. The largest investments in Slovak balneology did not occur until the socialist era after 1966. In 1948, the communists first nationalised all spas, categorised them by importance, established central governing institutions, and after that, things moved like a conveyor belt. Literally. The biggest problem for Slovak spas was the low standard and the lack of beds—their capacity. The mandate was therefore simple: to bring Slovak spas into a new era and at least to the level of the Czech ones. ‘The task of designing spa houses was assigned to Zdravoprojekt, led by architect Viktor Uhliarik, but most of the work was done by a team of young architects. Initially, it is evident that their buildings possessed a certain concept and architectural reasoning, including the context of global developments; however, architecture gradually fell under the sway of a technocratic approach.” — M. Zaiček

Two photographs from Rajecké Teplice appear staged, as if they were taken not in Slovakia, but somewhere in the Mediterranean. They resemble props from an opulent film with a touch of borrowed Sorrentino-esque aesthetics. The figure of an older man dressed in a bathrobe, pointing toward a spot we can only guess at from the frame, stands at the edge of a hot thermal pool like a statue. He appears to be a human pillar continuing a (pseudo)ancient colonnade topped by divine figures with golden trumpets—with a healthy dose of sarcasm, ‘ancient elements are an original and prominent architectural feature of the Rajecká Valley region.’ On the other hand, it must be emphasised that spa architecture has always been unique in its own way; it could never be as rigid as a hospital, nor as free as a hotel, but had to be distinctive in its status and significance. The scene is completed by the head of a spa maiden/lady emerging from the pool and a chair serving as a (not-so) perfect backdrop for spa care. So, this is no Italy, but ‘entrepreneurial neoclassicism’ in northwestern Slovakia, captured live.

Another photograph from Rajecké Teplice serves as a pendant, dominated by an older woman submerged to her shoulders in the pool—a spa-goer with a facial expression that could be interpreted as deep self-immersion… this stands in contrast to the face of another ‘accidental’ (post-pseudo) ancient female statue, positioned in the centre of a ‘spa mini-rondo-pantheon’ (an angelic castle ///// Castle of the Holy Ange). The blue bottom of the pool filled with water and the rising steam evoke a sense of sadness, yet also of catharsis. The architecture of the Rajecké Teplice spa after 1996 is dominated by the so-called ‘Aphrodite style,’ which is partially captured in these photographs. Simply delightful.”

Another spa ‘duo’ consists of photographs from Trenčianske Teplice. One of them captures a pool sign featuring the logo of the former Slovakoterma—the directorate of the Czechoslovak State Spas and Springs, which significantly shaped and managed the development of the spa industry in Slovakia in the past. This enterprise ensured unified promotion of the spas, especially abroad, and redistributed investments among individual resorts. Spa houses were often identified by this collective name, yet each town retained its own iconic symbol. This photograph serves as a memento—a photographic monument to the times when spa visits were massively popular, thanks in part to trade union recreations (ROH), and simultaneously as a reminder of high-quality graphic ‘corporate’ identity.

The second photograph from Trenčianske Teplice records the indoor pool of the Hotel Krym, where a mosaic by Dezider Castiglione dominates one of the interior walls. The photograph highlights an important aspect of the spa atmosphere – the connection between healthcare and healing water, specific architecture, and monumental artistic commissions in both the interiors and exteriors of the spas.

The final photograph is from the spa in Bojnice. It depicts a pond with water lilies, into which a now-only female torso, likely made of concrete, appears to be diving. Since then, the original concrete statue of a diving swimmer photographed by Andrea Kalinová has been replaced by a bronze cast (2017). While the original statue was created by an unknown artist, the bronze cast of the restored original was executed by J. Borko.In addition to expanding the collection, these photographs bring into the fold the work of one of the most prominent photographers, filmmakers, and activists of the middle generation in Slovakia.