Jano Pavlík was part of the group of photographers who later became known as the Slovak New Wave. His suicide in 1988, at the age of 25 while still a student at FAMU, left his work in the margins for many years. A retrospective at two separate venues, Galerie Ceské pojistovny and the Josef Sudek Atelier, brings to light this artist's most important body of work, the long-running series "Ernest and Alica" (1982–1987), as well as a group of photo collages he made in the final year of his life.

It is thanks to Rado Prekop, one of his classmates at FAMU, that such an extensive exhibition of Pavlík's work is possible. In the period following his death, Prekop rescued Pavlík's photographs, photo collages, poems, audio recordings, notes and other miscellany from plastic garbage bags and banana boxes. Up to now his work has appeared mainly in group shows alongside that of other Slovak New Wave photographers, a loose grouping that includes Tono Stano, Peter Zupník, Vasil Stanko and Miro Svolík.

In some ways, Pavlík plunged further into experimentation than most in his circle. Like others, he worked with staged photography, fictional story lines and alteration of film negatives and prints. He often inscribed text on his final prints and also made small incursions with colored felt-tip pens. He used them to highlight a detail, such as a belt buckle or wristwatch, or to "touch up" technical imperfections, such as scratches or dust on the negative, further magnifying the image's flaws.

When he made an enlargement he deemed suitable for exhibition, he created a photogram with a cut-glass chandelier ornament, which he placed on photographic paper while he exposed it, and he also drew a small star and moon at the lower-right margin. With these gestures he turned each photograph into a one-of-a-kind image instead of a potential multiple; the images became unrepeatable, even for himself.

His interest in devising different personae and his exploration of the self is exemplified by the rather existential "Ernest and Alica" series. The photos loosely plot out the story line of a man and a woman, perhaps more of an archetypal Dante and Beatrice than Adam and Eve. There is a strong temptation to view Ernest as the artist's alter ego, while Alica is a helicopter — Pavlík's term for women, according to his sister, Monika Pavlíková-Byrne. They drop down into view as if from the sky, unattainable objects of desire.

In the photos Alica is almost always partially if not completely disrobed — she is not a figure of action but rather an object to be gazed upon. In a photo titled Alica Finally Visits Ernest, a man's hand in front of the camera lens obscures the face but not the body of the naked woman standing before him.

Pavlík chose a string of different models to portray the pair. There is a lithe, dark-haired Ernest frantically flapping his arms in Ernest Tries to Escape Again, Though It's Useless; a balding, jowly Ernest in Ernest Visiting Chicago; and an Ernest with dark skin and an afro being painted with white pigment in Ernest Longs to Be Another Ernest. There are several Ernests with their heads cropped out of the photo, and the themes of longing to escape and (self-) punishment appear throughout the series. This is quite in keeping with the political hopelessness and apathy of the time.

A psychological reading of Pavlík's work is almost demanded by the titles of the photos. Ernest Would Like to See a Lot reflects the universal desire of the artist to possess the gift of perception, while Ernest Will Never See Anything Because He's a Fool and Ernest Would Rather Hide (and Be Quiet) hint at self-loathing and perhaps societal despair. A long exposure in Ernest on a Home-Made Electric Chair (As Punishment for Wanting to See Too Much) allows Ernest's head to completely disappear in a blur of motion.

Some of the photos from "Ernest and Alica" crop up again in Pavlík's photo collages from 1987, which differ greatly in mood from the more accomplished photo series. There is a manic, almost destructive energy at work as he pummels the photos with felt-tip pens and scribbles notes (to the viewer? to himself?) not only in the margins but across the photo itself.