Zuzana Fuksová (*1983) is a performer, presenter, and writer who co-hosts the podcast Buchty on Radio Wave with Ivana Veselková. In its thematic series Buchty o umču, the duo regularly dives into the world of visual art. Privately, Fuksová collects art herself — though, as she puts it, "collecting" might be a bit of an overstatement. We talked about the joys of low-key art collecting, morbid dolls, and monkeys in aristocratic attire.
Your podcast Buchty with Ivana Veselková covers a wide range of topics — from guest interviews to literature in the Buchty čtou series to visual art in Buchty o umču. But you also collect art in your private life. How did you get into it?
I'd say "collecting art" is a bit of an overstatement in my case, because I immediately picture some industrialist with a private picture gallery. I just occasionally buy something from friends or pick up a little monkey figurine — I wouldn't really call it collecting. But we did grow up surrounded by art — my grandfather made sculptures and drew alongside his day job. And both my parents were hobby ceramicists throughout our childhood, so having figurines and pictures everywhere was perfectly normal.
This kind of modest, homegrown collecting — "pictures from friends" — tends to be underestimated, but that's exactly why it interests us, alongside the big-budget kind: because it comes from the heart. Modesty aside — do you feel that each purchase helps the community of artists around you, at least a little?
I feel like I'm mainly helping myself — I certainly don't do it out of charity. But in general, I like buying things locally, whether from artists or people offering services. That goes without saying.
Do you remember the first piece you bought? Why that one?
I remember it perfectly. When I was seventeen, I had my first summer job as a tour guide at a chateau, and with the money I saved I bought the head of an old doll at a junk shop. I'd been longing for it — it was so delightfully morbid.
And do you remember your first painting?
Oh yes! It was a Monkey by an artist my age — I bought it on an instalment plan after seeing it at an exhibition in my favourite café at the time.
Your father and siblings are all involved in art. What about your own creative pursuits?
Unfortunately, I'm not the least bit handy, so the results of my efforts never satisfied me. As a preschooler I was obsessed with designing dresses — I loved it — but then I completely lost interest. I have no artistic ambitions anymore, because I know I'd never be happy with how my ideas turned out in practice.
How do you choose a piece? What does it need to have for you to want to own it?
Well, it simply has to catch my eye. I don't treat it as an investment, so I don't have any rational criteria. And it also has to be affordable — I need to be able to actually pay for it, you know.
Is there anything you've got your eye on, in case budget were no object?
I'd love a collage by Jiří Kolář. Or an abstract painting by Daisy Mrázková — I adore her children's books, especially the drawings.
How do you discover new artists? Do you go to exhibitions, follow Instagram, or rely on recommendations from people around you?
I probably go to exhibitions about as often as anyone else. But if I own any pictures, they mostly come from artists among my friends and acquaintances. I also used to browse Aukro — the Czech online auction site — looking for linocuts or specific motifs.
Is art on Aukro still going strong? Have you ever come across a good painting there?
I've sort of lost interest in Aukro. But I did recently spot a lovely little monkey figurine in aristocratic clothing on there — though I had to forbid myself from buying it. Figurines collect dust.
Your mother is a doctor — a profession with a clearly measurable contribution to society. The rest of the family is in art. Do you ever sense a prejudice around you that art is somehow less essential than medicine?
Not at all. If anything, I think COVID showed us that art is pretty essential if we don't want to just eat, sleep, and defecate. Which is, of course, also an option.
And what specifically makes it enriching for you?
That's a tough question. I don't have some intellectual framework for it, but looking at beautiful things puts my mind at ease.
When an unexpected expense comes up — say the boiler breaks down — is a painting something you can quickly turn into cash? How do you see art in terms of liquidity?
Well, my boiler actually broke down recently. And since I consider heating and gas a priority, some art had to leave the house — reluctantly, I'll admit.
Priorities are priorities, of course. Though it must be reassuring, even if bittersweet, when artwork can serve as a safety net — a kind of overdraft facility.
Exactly. You can't eat a painting.
In your view, is visual art important for society? In what way?
I don't know about society at large, but it's certainly important for me. And I think for society too, actually. I consider applied art to be art as well — even people who never go to exhibitions appreciate a beautiful wine label or a gorgeous book cover. So I don't think you can say that the beauty of visual art and beautiful things is dispensable.
What do you think about state support for artists?
Again, I'm no expert on this. But I'd be glad if the state supported artists in a more systematic way — if there were an official status for artists and it weren't treated as some kind of after-work hobby. What I keep seeing is that most artists, unless they're the commercially successful tip of the iceberg, are forced to hold down a job that pays the bills and only then devote time to their work. I also see among people I know that this kind of moonlighting is only sustainable for so long, and even less so once family responsibilities kick in — so a lot of talented people end up abandoning their practice altogether.
The Artist Status Institute was introduced in the Czech Republic in July 2025, and we plan to explore it in more depth in a future interview with people it directly affects. It's hardly surprising that few people know about it — by the end of the summer, only about 150 artists out of a projected 1,400 had applied.
In Buchty o umču, you and art historian Marie Šťastná walk through various periods of art history. Has this show changed the way you look at what you buy?
It was a wonderful experience, but since we were discussing art that's way out of my price range, it certainly didn't influence what I buy. That said, I do pay more attention to the golden ratio in paintings now — if it's there, that is!
All hail the golden ratio! Thank you for the interview.