By Petr Zavadil

For the Post

Walking around Prague, you may notice small and colorful unidentifiable objects on building ledges. They are part of the latest project by a well-known Czech street artist.

"People call them dragons, UFOs, ducks and all sorts of things, but they are objects in space called Pointíci [small points]," says Jan Kaláb, better known as "Point" in the street art community.

This is the second series of Pointíci. The statues are about 30 centimeters (1 foot) in diameter, made out of plaster put on an iron frame in crazy color combinations. The first series appeared two years ago — about 100 pieces similar to the present batch. Kaláb put the new series all around town, from Prague 1 to 10. However, their numbers have dramatically decreased.

"A lot of them were stolen soon after I installed them," says Kaláb. "Now, out of the 200 statues, only about 20 are left."

Officials of Prague 1, where a lot of the statues were installed, say they have no problem with Kaláb's artistic expression. "The district of Prague 1 did not record any reactions to the presence of these dragons," says Petr Burgr, deputy mayor for Prague 1. "If someone doesn't like the statue, they can just throw it into the garbage can."

Kaláb's inspiration came from a childhood experience. "When I was little, I remember shopping at Máj [now Tesco] department store at Národní třída when I saw a bright blue ball on the roof below," he recalls. "I wondered how it got there, and what its fate would be."

Kaláb thus created his Pointíci primarily as sort of a toy for kids walking down the street. He also wanted adults to stop and think about the statues' origin, purpose and fate, thus engaging in a game of sorts with the artist. While he feels he has succeeded in both his aims, Kaláb's game has a new twist, as he is now the one attempting to trace the fate of all his missing artifacts. Even though each Pointík has Kaláb's phone number and e-mail address on its tail, most people never bother contacting him to return his work.

"I know I use someone else's property, but I don't damage it, so why don't people give me back my work if they don't like it?" wonders Kaláb.

Unlike graffiti mongers, Kaláb doesn't run his project as a covert operation. He installed all the statues during broad daylight, traveling around Prague with a ladder and tube of glue, sticking the statues onto ledges with the help of friends.

Of all his installation spots, Kaláb's favorite is a Korunovační street crossing in Prague 7, where he can't seem to keep a Pointík — three have been stolen already. But his greatest pleasure, he says, is seeing children's reactions.

"There was this one 12-year-old kid who told me he and his friends like my statues and discuss them in school," says Kaláb proudly.

Although he doesn't necessarily feel the need to hide or stay anonymous, Kaláb feels that it's better not to show his face in the media. "Luckily I have no problems with the police," he says, knocking on the wood of the garden café table. "I feel it's better if people know the art instead of the artist's physiognomy."

And city officials seem to have no interest in identifying or pursuing Kaláb. "It's certainly a more acceptable form of attracting attention than damaging building facades," points out Burgr.

Kaláb doesn't have specific plans for future pieces, but says that when an idea comes to him, he gets to work on it immediately. So something new and provocative from his workshop is bound to appear on Prague streets in the future.