It feels good to be back. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind, a relentless tide of deadlines and demands in my ‘real’ job within cybersecurity, which, while necessary, left precious little room for the quiet contemplation that photography and this site demand. I won’t lie, I hated that feeling of being adrift from the viewfinder, from the very essence of Viewfinder Chronicles. But, after a much needed break spent reconnecting with home, coaxing life into the garden, tidying spaces, and generally just being, I feel re-centred, ready to dive back into the images that spark conversation.

As I ease back into the rhythm of writing, I’m reflecting on a book that truly captivated me during my recent respite: Václav Jirásek’s “Cars.” Now, I’ll admit, I’m no car person. My relationship with cars is purely functional, they get me from A to B, comfortably and safely. I appreciate a smooth drive and a bit of aesthetic appeal, but beyond ensuring it suits the family, seven-seaters were our domain for nearly a decade with three kids, now a slightly less capacious SUV with the eldest off carving his own path, the colour is usually my wife’s choice, and storage is king. Yet, this book, far from being a dry documentation of vehicles, is something altogether different, something rather profound.

From the moment I picked it up, “Cars” announced itself as a unique entity. Its design is simply gorgeous, unlike any photobook I’ve encountered. It’s not one solid tome, but rather a collection of sixteen individual booklets, nestled together in a beautiful package. This segmented approach is brilliant, each “book” within the book inviting a focused immersion into a specific facet of Jirásek’s vision. The first of these, as you draw it out, provides a crucial introduction, offering Václav’s own words on his philosophical approach to these abandoned vehicles, accompanied by maps that root the images in their surprising geographical context. This personal insight into his process, his ‘instinct’ for finding these peculiar situations, truly sets the stage. Each subsequent section then opens with its own brief, evocative text, deepening the narrative and guiding the viewer’s gaze.

There’s an undeniable beauty that permeates this entire project, a melancholic poetry in imagining the sheer span of time each car has endured in its improbable resting place. What stories could they tell? What lives unfolded within their now skeletal frames? How did they weather the sun, the rain, the snow, through countless seasons? Jirásek doesn’t just photograph, he invites us to witness, to wonder, and to project our own narratives onto these silent sentinels.

The sheer volume of work — over 900 deserted cars collected over a decade from Greek islands, Mexico, Central Bohemia, and beyond — speaks to an obsession, a painterly eye for composition, and a unique sensitivity to the human footprint on the landscape. These aren’t just rusting hulks; they become reflections of human activity: creativity, care, irresponsibility, cruelty, faith, and the utterly inconceivable.

Romantics

The “Romantics” section, fittingly, sets a tone of wistful contemplation. My favourite image from this series is a shot taken from a gentle distance: a rusted blue flatbed truck, almost swallowed by the verdant embrace of trees, bushes, and tall grass. It immediately sparks those fundamental questions: how did it even get there? Was it a breakdown, a deliberate abandonment, or something more enigmatic? The mystery is part of its charm, hinting at a life abruptly halted, leaving behind only the ghost of its former purpose.

Florists

“Florists” offers a truly captivating spectacle, where the raw power of nature asserts its dominance. Here, cars become living planters, their frames consumed by the relentless growth of bushes, trees, and wild flora. This section profoundly amplifies that sense of time’s relentless march, the slow, quiet reclamation of human constructs by the natural world. My preferred image here is a breathtaking capture of a blue, rusted van, almost completely engulfed by a riot of leaves and branches, as if it’s deliberately trying to hide itself, a secret keeper within the green embrace.

Installations

In “Installations,” Jirásek presents cars not just as objects, but as unwitting participants in impromptu, often surreal, art pieces. They are found intertwined with, resting upon, or surrounded by objects utterly unrelated to their original function. My top pick from this series is, surprisingly, another blue rusted car, this time pressed against a building, its frame repurposed, holding up the very roof of the structure with strategically placed branches. It has ceased to be merely a vehicle; it has become an integral part of the building itself, a silent, weighty support.

Christo

The “Christo” section introduces an unexpected human element, showcasing cars that have been intentionally wrapped, presumably by their owners. The peeling, tattered covers, revealing glimpses of rust beneath, add another layer of decay and neglect, but also a strange, almost sculptural quality. My favourite, and yes, it’s blue again – a car draped in a blue cover, nestled beside a stack of chopped wood at the base of a truly stunning green mountain hill, dotted with subtle dirt paths and hints of a winding road. In my mind’s eye, I want to believe this car is still in pristine condition beneath its protective shroud, though the relentless heat of such a landscape would likely argue otherwise.

Woodies

“Woodies” naturally explores the interplay of cars and wood, in all its forms. My chosen image from this fascinating category isn’t strictly a car at all, but rather the cut-off roof of a vehicle, repurposed as a makeshift shelter for long sticks, presumably protecting them from the elements. It rests atop a stack of blocks, a testament to ingenuity and the unending human need to adapt and reuse.

Animals

The “Animals” section brings a touch of poignant life to the ruins, featuring cars with creatures nestled within or beside them. My most loved image here is an orangey-gold Peugeot, rusted and forgotten, yet offering a fleeting moment of warmth with a tiny white cat peering out from its interior. It’s a quiet, tender observation amidst the decay, hinting at the new life that can emerge from abandonment.

Off-Road

“Off-Road” documents cars simply abandoned at the wayside, left to the whims of Mother Nature and the elements. My favourite image from this set captures a van, its original colour long lost to rust, now a uniform brown-orange, perched precariously at the very edge of a massive drop. It immediately sparks speculation: did it simply break down here, or was there a desperate attempt to drive back up that steep embankment, ending in irreversible failure and subsequent abandonment? The story is left to the viewer’s imagination.

Acrobats

The “Acrobats” section showcases cars in astonishing, gravity-defying positions – on their heads, their sides, contorted in ways that defy their original purpose. My standout image features two white cars, or perhaps one and a half, as the second is merely the front half, standing upright and facing the sky like a strange monument. Both are heavily rusted, surrounded by the vibrant resilience of trees and wildflowers, a powerful juxtaposition of human creation and natural reclamation.

Prop-Ups

“Prop-Ups” documents cars elevated on makeshift supports – stones, wood – often stripped of their wheels. My top choice from this series is a truly beautiful image, captured at night. A white car, stark against a similar pale background, is propped up at the front on stone blocks, its missing wheels adding to its vulnerability. The moody tone and lighting of the photograph are simply captivating, transforming a scene of neglect into something artful.

Stalkers

“Stalkers” delves into cars caught in a strange, almost metaphysical pause, as if frozen mid-moment after something unexpected and unsettling has occurred. My favourite here is another moody masterpiece: a car within an abandoned building, perhaps a double garage, bathed in the soft glow of what could be either sunrise or sunset. The car appears to be almost peeking around a corner, an unsettling, almost sentient presence in the fading light.

Rituals

“Rituals” presents a stark and brutal reality: the aftermath of burning cars. My selected image from this section is a harrowing close-up, seemingly taken at night. The car has clearly endured an inferno of unimaginable heat, its entire frame bleached white from the intensity of the blaze. It’s a visceral, almost ghostly testament to destruction.

Stones

“Stones” features cars adorned with, or perhaps assaulted by, rocks. My favourite captures a red car, relatively new in its abandonment given the minimal rust, but heavily dented and sitting forlornly at the bottom of a hill. The smashed windscreen, with a single rock resting on the roof, creates a powerful visual narrative. I can’t help but imagine that rock as a triumphant trophy, having served its purpose in shattering the glass.

Shots

The “Shots” section details vehicles bearing the indelible marks of gunfire and bullet holes. My chosen image from this sobering collection is the windscreen of what appears to be a flatbed truck. Despite the bullet impacts, the glass stands defiant, a testament to enduring strength, while flowers and bushes continue to grow around it, highlighting nature’s quiet indifference to human violence.

Decay

“Decay” showcases cars in truly advanced states of disintegration. My preferred image here is of what I believe was once a truck, now in such a profound state of decay that its original form is barely discernible. What makes it so compelling is the presence of a single, almost untouched seat, a ghost of its former function, amidst the surrounding ruin. It’s a poignant juxtaposition of entropy and endurance.

Sinking

“Sinking” captures vehicles in the final stages of their demise, slowly being reabsorbed by the earth, turning to dust, and becoming one with the very ground beneath them. My favourite from this section is a van, utterly consumed by an orangey-brown rust, its entire back half appearing to be quite literally sinking into the ground, a slow, inevitable surrender to the earth.

Noir

“Noir” presents wrecks bathed in the dramatic, high-contrast light of night photography, often with a flash, imbuing them with an almost cinematic quality. My chosen image here features a car almost coyly hidden behind a perfectly framing cluster of trees. The lighting is exquisite, highlighting the textures of leaves and the subtle hues within the shadows, creating a scene that feels plucked from a brooding film.

Torsos

Finally, “Torsos” strips cars down to their bare essentials, featuring highly fragmented and oddly positioned remnants. My preferred image from this collection is of what was undoubtedly a car at one point, now completely flattened into the ground, its original form unrecognisable. It possesses an unexpected, almost abstract beauty, looking for all the world like a piece of pop art, ready to be displayed in a modern gallery.

Václav Jirásek’s “Cars” is far more than a collection of photographs of derelict vehicles. It’s a meditative, often haunting, exploration of time, nature’s invincibility, human impact, and the stories that linger in forgotten objects. It’s a beautifully curated journey that makes you look deeper, wonder more, and appreciate the strange beauty found in the quiet decay around us.

Regards

Alex