In his photographs the Czech artist renders a whole universe of female figures. He captures women strolling through the city, sunbathing by the swimming pool, chatting with neighbours, or going shopping. Other women are photographed from the TV screen. Sometimes they are unaware of the observer, sometimes unopposed, sometimes angry. Their ankles, faces and torsos dominate the composition. In a nearly obsessive manner he takes close to one hundred photographs a day, equipped with archaically looking instruments that turn out to be self-made cameras. Build from scraps, such as metal plates, crown caps, rubber bands, cardboard, scotch tape, and plexi glass, his awkward yet masterful cameras display an ingenious inventiveness.
Often Miroslav Tichý applies intricate pencil drawings onto the surface of his photographs and frames them with sensitively designed passepartouts, thus enhancing their profound poetry. Due to the yearlong storage in his run-down house, a melancholic veil of stains has layered itself upon the photographs. Miroslav Tichý works inhere an enigmatic and translucent atmosphere.