Photographs show portraits of one hundred years old Czechs. Nowadays, there are over 1200. In fifty years their number will reach 14,000. How these people see their life after such a period? The majority of those I approached agree that with advancing age life is faster; until, at last, the life will pass in a moment. Time is shrinking, as are the faces of the elders. I wondered what changes and what remains on a human face and in a human mind in such a long time, and in such a short while in relative terms. I wondered how much loneliness of the old age weighs, and what memories stay in 100-year-old mind.

This set of comparative photos (of archive portraits from the family album and contemporary portraits from the present time) explores the similarities and the differences in appearance and in physiognomy. The characteristics of personality change throughout life but it seems as if individual nature remains rooted in the abyss of time.

The pairs of photographs are accompanied by brief facts from the people's physical and psychic world.

 Marie Fejfarová, (manželka kardiologa Zdeňka Fejfara), *1912  
 On the left her personal history was burnt; on the right 101 years old

Former occupation
sports instructor at the Strahov stadium 
Current place of residence: long-term care home in Prague district of Bubeneč 
Current hobbies: reading English and French literature, translating names of things into foreign languages 
Family Relationship: childless
Unforgettable Memory: hiding away in a coal cellar - first from Nazis in 1939, then from the Russians in 1945; travelling the world with her husband (little paths in gardens in Japan, hustle and bustle of Hong Kong, poor dinner in a slum in Africa as opposed to stately reception hosted by the Spanish royal couple, variety of cultures 
Wishes to fall asleep and never wake up again  


Note:


Until the age of 101 she was living in a villa she and her husband owned in Hanspaulka, a luxury residential quarter of Prague. One day she decided to leave. She burnt all material memories of her life (letters, diaries, photographs) and with just a bathrobe and a toothbrush she knocked at the door of the long-term care home in Bubeneč. She left the villa with furniture, books, clothes and everything else to her “friends” who in turn were supposed to look after her in the long-term care home. They came just once and brought her a cake; they have never shown up again; they live in her villa.

If you give something to somebody, you must not expect to receive anything in return. And when you receive something, you cannot count on taking it with you to the grave….”