Behind Karel Hubáček

He Called Us “Little Dudes”

Mirko Baum

I personally met architect Karel Hubáček in 1969 when I, along with several spiritually compatible graduates from Prague's technical university, followed his call for cooperation in his Liberec studio, which soon became the birthplace of the now legendary Školka. The Školka emerged in a time scarred by the tanks of the Warsaw Pact armies, during the “temporary placement of allied troops”, during passive resistance and its gradual transition into mental marasmus and depressive lethargy. Hubáček responded to this destructive climate in a highly constructive manner, with a vital offensive that was completely unique at the time. In this period of conceptual vacuum, Hubáček created in Liberec an atmosphere of optimism, vibrant energy, and an avant-garde outlook towards the future, an atmosphere that starkly contrasted the generally prevailing grave silence following August 1968. Hubáček's Školka, akin to the apple tree that Martin Luther intended to plant on the eve of the world's end, was for many years a kind of island of optimism and a rock resisting the incoming tide of “normalization”.
Hubáček was an outstanding pedagogue, so the Školka was not only a spiritual refuge and utopian commune but also our true studio. The then-current Anglo-Saxon technological architecture, which some of us familiarized ourselves with during a brief opening of borders, was experienced in Liberec in a form that matched foreign trends entirely. Hubáček’s generosity revealed to us new scales and unexpected possibilities at a time when almost nothing was possible. At the time of our arrival in Liberec, the television tower on Ještěd had just been completed, followed by the realization of an antenna extension, a balancing water tower in Prague, as well as unbuilt projects for the Radoom telecommunication system, a tower for meteorological radar, and a cable car station with accommodation and a restaurant at Sněžka.
Valuable experiences also included the construction of department stores in Liberec and Prague, which for many of us was our first encounter with traditional construction craftsmanship, albeit not without that act so typical of Hubáček, which balanced between reality and utopian vision. It was precisely this position, which has always been, is, and will be a necessary prerequisite for good architecture, that Hubáček mastered with virtuoso ease. With the same virtuosity, he also mastered the ability to pass on his life experience and artistic opinion to others, as evidenced by the fact that almost everyone who has passed through his school is now either a successful architect, collaborator in top architectural offices, or a teacher at universities. This fact can also be inserted into the long list of Hubáček’s achievements.
I think it makes no sense to enumerate here the several dozen projects, of which a good dozen reached realization. Their common denominator is, in almost all cases, construction certainty and structural courage, often completely filling the space defined by political, economic, and technological possibilities.
The best illustration of this understanding of architecture is undoubtedly the television tower on Ještěd. Even if Hubáček’s oeuvre had ended here, I would write these lines with the same conviction. This building is not only Hubáček’s top work but also a significant piece of architecture, operating at the edges of the technological possibilities of its time. This quality is shared by this building with the vault of the Roman Pantheon, the Gothic cathedrals, the top engineering works of the 19th century, and only a few contemporary buildings. The beautiful symbiosis of architectural form with the structural logic of the rotational hyperboloid is one of those just as simple as it is beautiful obviousnesses, where it never occurs to us that it could be any other way. It is the beauty of the logical connection of form, construction, and function, a beauty that is inherent to natural laws and mathematical sciences, a beauty that Augustine referred to as “the ornament of truth”.
Hubáček never took the path of least resistance. It was precisely resistance and obstacles that were always a source of inspiration and the driving force of his creativity. As avant-garde as his view on architecture and construction technology was, he was equally (in the best sense of the word) conservative in his opinion on professional honor: “Our profession is a creative craft and a voluntary burden. Like every true craft, it is only lent to us. It elevates us when we serve it and when we defend it. Above all, within ourselves. Respect for the craft leads to humility. The reward for humility is inner strength and freedom. Thus, we can resist the golden glimmer of its bottom more easily. Strong in our own freedom, we can influence the shape of the place entrusted to us and choose the manner of its fulfillment.” There is nothing to be added to these words, which testify to the certainty, strength, and purity of Hubáček's character.
Karel Hubáček, the grand seigneur of Czech architecture, passed away on November 23, 2011. He called us “little dudes”. We will miss him.

The Path of Karel Hubáček

Martin Rajniš

I stood in the right corner of the crematorium. Largo from Dvořák's New World Symphony played (the same one I had played at my father’s funeral). Tears were streaming down my face as I remembered Hubáček. No one in this country, except for my parents, gave me as much as he did. How could that happen? To me, an arrogant, egocentric only child who hated everyone who had power over him. That a guy he knows is his guru would enter his life, despite being the boss? Even more – “the boss man”!! There are few moments when you feel fate touching you. But I felt that with Hubáček, I experienced it often. There are only a few people who influence history, and Karel (my friend) was one of them.
What distinguished him above all was the courage with which he escaped from a concentration camp at the end of the war. He reported himself to the Gestapo to remind them that a group of totally mobilized Czechs had the right to go home and that they expected the Reich to keep its word. He achieved that!!! He told me this in 1988 when we were returning through the night from Honza Žemlička back to Czech. He was the one who broke the ice during the worst normalization. In his wake, our little boats full of plans and wild dreams sailed. Who among the champions of Czech architecture lets young guys work on projects that are directed at him personally? No one! Only Karel. He threw us into the arena during the Máj competition with the words: “Here are your violins, put the bow on and play!” Prager made sure to sign his competing design. How joyfully we won over it.
The moments of life's ideas are brief. He said that the idea for Ještěd was born in a minute. Thus, the most amazing volcano in the world emerged. Even when it disintegrates over time, its trace will remain indelible for ages.
Long ago, I came to him and said: “Mr. Boss, I don’t know how to proceed.” He smiled... “Hey, each of us walks through a swamp and doesn’t see the way, but there surely is a path under the surface – made of little planks. You have to be careful and patient, and you’ll feel it. Otherwise, you’ll build a dumb house!”
So we know what holds in the Czech swamp – the invisible path of Karel Hubáček! We have to find it. Otherwise, we do not deserve him.

P.S.
I still feel we should organize something like a joint remembrance of Karel! There are certainly many others who would benefit from it to overcome their sorrow!

Karel Hubáček

Emil Přikryl

changed the pattern
of what an architect looks like
what his office is like
what a house looks like
he carried light
provided faith even in this crazy world
defended freedom
guaranteed and was accountable
was the best architect in the Czech Republic
an example, a teacher
to him we owe our accounts
today and forever