"The Marriage of Figaro" - direction, set and costumes: Kirill Serebrennikov (2026)

Last night I left the opera house a little bit perplexed and confused. (And relieved that is over) How is it possible that the magnificent and intoxicating music can at the same time be completely sabotaged by annoying staging and over-the-top direction? This is how both me and a friend felt as we left the building - and to be honest, the running time of three and a half hours was simply too much, the last 30 minutes was a pure agony. We had such a nice time not so long ago with "Semele" by Handel that this time we were absolutely sure that we will enjoy "The Marriage of Figaro". I mean, its Mozart, you can'y go wrong with him, its one lovely aria after another, right? Wrong. 

OK, let's mention some positive things first.

The music itself is beautiful and no one can take this away. No matter what ridiculous staging or costumes you throw at the audience, the magic of Mozart is indestructible and would work anytime, under any circumstances. I was actually surprised a few times when the voices of two female leads (Susanna and Countess) joined in the most beautiful harmony - and this happened just for a few seconds, just a few lines of lyrics - really dream-like and I would have never appreciated this on record, but hearing it live was thrilling. Most of the performers were excellent - specially earlier mentioned ladies, Björn Bürger as Count Almaviva and I loved the excellent bass singer Anthony Robin Schneider in a small supporting role. Strangely enough, I did not care much for the title role of Figaro (whom I found annoying) and much much more space was given to his girlfriend, a servant Susanna (Emily Pogorelc) so much in fact that the piece could easily be called "The Marriage of Susanna" instead. So, the performers and music were ok but ....

STAGING. 

I knew that Amsterdam's opera house loves to play around with a new modern productions and most of the time learned to accept it; even grew to enjoy it, since this is a classy stage and the magic of music is usually enough to convince me. This time the staging, direction and costumes were work by a certain Russian director Kirill Serebrennikov and I have to remember this name in order to avoid anything he does in the future. He sought some far stretched social criticism in the Mozart's delightful comedy - making it thrice pretentious, like this is some call for revolution and pseudo-philosophy. ("Capitalism kills love" was written on a wall at some point) He divided the stage in some sort of upstairs/downstairs Downtown Abbey world where upper floor is reserved for aristocrats and lower for the servants - but everything is happening upstairs, so what exactly was the point of downstairs, except for cramming it with washing machines and all sorts of ugly scenery (to explain this is servant's area) AND stage was constantly full of silent, non-singing actors moving around aimlessly and confusingly. We just had to assume they were servants. Costumes were modern day and ugly: instead of revealing social status of the characters, they were mostly ill-fitting and clumsy, particularly the annoying title character Figaro who was played by some overweight person running around in tight jeans and was irritating to look at. The director also decided to "refresh" Mozart's original libretto and divided the role of Cherubino into two different people for no apparent reason: so we had a deaf/mute Cherubino (male, mostly pantomime and more or less in a state of permanent nudity) and Cherubina (female singer interpreting his sign language). This Cherubino is here really just to show off his buttocks and at one point he even jumps out of the balcony - stripping naked first. Oh well. The worst of all was another mute character invented by this director, some sort of silent personal secretary of Count Almaviva - it was a completely irritating pantomime character constantly mugging, grinning, making faces and jumping around - if this was supposed to be funny, well it wasn't and I was even a bit angry with the way this particular director assumes the audience will lap it up, as everybody here is so infantile that we will laugh at this. Towards the end the whole concept of staging otherwise beautiful piece of music became so chaotic that I gave up trying to figure it out why are people suddenly walking around with peaces of mirrors, who is this person killing everybody with a knife and why the victims later all got up and sang again like nothing happened. Was it just imagination? Servant's revenge in a dream? 

I always suspected that for all its supposed free lifestyle, Amsterdam is actually a city of well-oiled bourgeoisie and not so progressive after all - it shows last night when at the end everybody gave standing ovation to this mess, I assume because audience is simply starving for operas by famous composers. There is no Mozart, Verdi or any popular composer on the repertoire, as opera house nowadays prefers either modern works or someone from inner Mongolia. But for me and my friend it was a very long performance indeed and we just couldn't wait to get out and shake off the bad taste. Apparently we are not the only ones feeling this way because this article explains everything I wrote much better: 

https://www.opusklassiek.nl/opera_operette/dno_mozart_figaro_corti.htm

We both agreed that previous opera we had witnessed ("Semele") was far more coherent and enjoyable than this chaotic mess. 

 

Patricia Highsmith, Oscar Wilde and Henrik Ibsen - Audiobooks

In order to boost my Goodreads 2024 reading challenge, I decided to listen some audio books - its not really a task, since I regularly listen some podcasts on my way to work and back, in fact it was actually a pleasure. These three turned out to be completely different and I enjoyed all of them. In fact, one somehow lead to another.

I knew who was Patricia Highsmith but so far never read anything by her concretely - she was forever on my "to read" list. So now I decided to listen her famous debut "Strangers on a Train". Even though I remember the Hitchcock movie and it vaguely reminded me on recently read "The Postman Always Rings Twice", it was still a gripping story and I have resisted to peek at the end, I honestly had no idea where is the story going. This was so good that I decided to go on and listen another audio book.

"The Importance of Being Earnest" was just a delight. I forgot most about it so it was like approaching it for the first time - the recording I listened was done with John Gielgud and Edith Evans - I must admit that it made me laugh out loud on my way to work and I was just super excited with it, it was one of the funniest and wittiest things I have ever heard. Some quotes I still remember:

" I don’t play accurately—any one can play accurately—but I play with wonderful expression."

“I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.”

“All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.”

“To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”

“I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being good all the time. That would be hypocrisy.”

“Never met such a Gorgon . . . I don't really know what a Gorgon is like, but I am quite sure that Lady Bracknell is one. In any case, she is a monster, without being a myth, which is rather unfair.”

"If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life."

This was so good that I continued with Henrik Ibsen and his classic play "A Doll's House" might be the best of them all - the story about middle-class family where superficiality and social status were more important than personal opinions and lives of Nora and her husband was actually genuinely interesting and I listened with greatest pleasure. the patronising husband was annoying as hell, but to some extent so was a Nora herself until she woke up from this lobotomised dream and realised it was all but a nightmare. I found it excellent and might continue with Ibsen and audio books.

"House of Troy" in International Theater Amsterdam

My previous experience in DeLaMar Theatre with badly staged "Murder on the Orient Express" was so upsetting that I started to doubt do I even like live stage plays at all - to correct this, I found something that appealed to me and tried to see it & perhaps new experience will erase the bad taste in my mouth. From what I read online, this play was inspired by ancient Greek play "Trojan Women" by Euripides and that was a good sign - at least this will not be the same audience that was going on "Mamma Mia" in DeLaMar Theatre. So I was ready to try something else. 

First I watched 1971. movie filmed in Spain with all-star international cast that included Katharine Hepburn, Vanessa Redgrave and Geneviève Bujold - I quite enjoyed it, even though I don't care much for Hepburn and was delighted with great Greek actress Irene Papas as Helen of Troy, I thought she was magnificent and had a true presence. The movie gave me some idea what to expect in the theatre, obviously it is happening after fall of Troy and each of these famous characters represents part of the myth - we can also see them as any female victims of any war, it is quite a timeless piece. 

This time I went with a friend who insisted on having a dinner with dessert & wine before the theatre so we enjoyed our dinner and rolled into a theatre ready to explode (perhaps some self-discipline might be welcome next time around). Even though I had full belly, I was surprisingly awake and alert, because it turned out it was completely in Dutch (I was expecting some subtitles somewhere, after all this is International Theater - luckily I was able to follow it fairly well - it might be that this kept me focused. I enjoyed it very much and thought it was excellent!

First - it was cleverly staged and directed. You don't just bring ancient play in a famous theatre stage and make it another moth-eaten piece: director Mateusz Staniak has everybody in modern clothes and there are just a few props that works perfectly well. To the right are few chairs, these are thrones where main characters sit. To the left is some water with paper ships that represent Greek ships invading Troy - at some point, Cassandra (who nobody listens to) will pour some red liquid into it and make the sea full of blood. In the middle is a pile of ash - these are ashes of everybody who died in the war and during the stage it gets scattered around, a very clever way of explaining the huge number of deaths without actually showing anything. Best of all, there is a large sign that explains when the story unfolds and it is not a linear, start-to-finish play but cleverly it goes from the end to the start, playing with time and showing "5 days before the fall", "2 days before the fall", etc - some scenes are extremely short, other much longer. It is all about how the characters perceived the war and what could have been done to prevent it. Each step back in time, as a flashback, is indicated by a flash of darkness accompanied by heavy electronic music.

As expected, female roles are excellent - for me, the best was Elsie de Brauw as Queen Hecuba - when Greeks suddenly retreat and leave a strange wooden horse behind, it is Hecuba almost giddy with relief, who insist to open the city gates and bring the horse inside, break the gates if you must. She ends wearing black coat and scarf, while carrying the urn with the ashes of her son Hector. There is also a strong-headed Cassandra (Laura De Geest) with her unruly teenaged sister Polyxena (Mona Lahousse) who is tired of everybody always talking about the war. A pregnant Andromache (Nadia Amin) is widow of Hector and after the fall will be just another slave. There are also two young actors playing Paris and his brother Polydoros, neither of them fascinating as female characters as mother hen Hecuba basically pushed them around. The interesting aspect of the story was someone that everybody was talking about but the characters was nowhere to be seen - Helen of Troy, the reason for the war itself - eventually Hecuba admits that she never even existed and that Helen was just a story. I left the theatre giddy with excitement and impressions. 

"Murder on the Orient Express" in DeLaMar Theatre

It seemed like a good idea - the poster was instantly identifiable and we both agreed it might be cool to actually get out of the house and do what real people do, visit a theatre. The fact that it was all in Dutch did not scare me, I thought at this point my command of Dutch should be sufficient and in fact we both excitedly waited Saturday as a day when we will treat ourselves.

Instead, we found ourselves squeezed in a packed auditorium and surrounded by fairly provincial audience who did not even bothered to dress up just a little differently from their casual shopping in a supermarket. I knew Dutch can be very casual but this was just annoying, it takes away from the whole experience. We felt like we are the only ones who actually made an effort. My friend disliked the minimalistic stage but I didn't mind, having just a few props (moved around by actors themselves) worked for me and it forced the production to be more creative. Unfortunately, the director obviously insisted on some sort of forced comedy so Agatha Christie's famous whodunit was presented as a over-indulgent salon comedy where everything was exaggerated to the point of almost parody. Everybody (starting from Remko Vrijdag as Hercule Poirot ) over-acted very badly in order to get some laugh from the audience but we were not amused. These things can not be forced. And it suddenly reminded me on a few occasions when I visited local theatre, just to notice how everything was over-baked for my taste.

It might be a cultural difference. I always found a stage acting a bit too much to take (even in my own country, it was insufferable) and preferred a natural, relaxed, non-acting style much more than what I perceive Kabuki style that projects to the balcony. Perhaps this naturalistic style works very well for the camera but theatre has its own rules and most of the time I think its exaggerated. I can accept it in music performance but it kills my enjoyment of the theatre. All this clowning done to appeal to the totally non-demanding audiences, its not for me. We just couldn't wait to return home. 

The Rocky Horror Show

Out of the blue, I got invitation for the theatre - someone got sick, so my friends thought I might enjoy this particular show. It turned out to be a Dutch version of "The Rocky Horror Show" but I was so thrilled to be in live performance again that I would have gladly go on Swahili version. The doors were open only for the people with official proof of Corona vaccination and mine luckily was working for that particular day, since it was exactly two weeks from my second vaccination - I have actually vaccinated exactly for these kinds of situations, this was the logic behind my thinking, I didn't want to be excluded from anything that the rest of humanity can do. If this allows me to travel, to mingle and to check in theatres and cinemas, I'm fine with that.

I noticed already that people waiting in the line were extremely colourful - many of them came wearing all sorts of costumes (nurses, hot pants with net stockings, etc) and were obviously great fans of the show. I only vaguely remembered the 1975. movie with a very young Susan Sarandon and could name a song or two, but that was it. What mattered more to me was the fact that finally, after such a long time I am inside the theatre and watching live performance again - friends told me this is normally home for the very serious stage plays, but tonight it was out-and-out camp musical with fanatical cult following. 

To say that everybody was in a good mood would have been an understatement - people felt the importance of the situation, that we are all finally allowed to mingle mask-less inside the crowded, sold out theatre. The sensation was not exactly pleasant because it has been a long time since I was in such a crowd and it felt almost a little too crowded to me, almost as I forgot how it is to be in a room full of people, where every single seat was taken.

 

The show was fine - it was all in Dutch but they sang roughly half of the songs in English and naturally nothing made any sense to me because the plot is so ridiculous that later I had to go online to read what exactly happened and who was that killed with a chainsaw. There was a huge energy in the beginning, where each character had a solo spot and audience was going wild, repeating themselves exactly what they saw on stage (apparently they all came prepared and had all the gadgets with them) - I felt that curiously the energy dropped a bit towards the end of the show, like it was impossible to keep such a high level of frenzy all the time. Or maybe it was just the story itself that was turning darker and less celebratory. No matter, I was thrilled to be part of it, except that in such situations I am more a observer than participant - I never was someone who talks or sings or whoops during the performances - but maybe next time I would be better prepared and would put the newspaper on top of my head in exact right moment, who knows? 

"Tri zime (Three winters) by Tena Štivičić

The ticket for this celebrated theatre play was part of my Christmas present and thank to a generous friend I started this year with a very interesting performance and something that is actually homegrown. Authoress Tena Štivičić and me share the same hometown and horoscope sign, however apparently she successfully studied dramaturgy and got her plays performed internationally - this particular play won New York's Susan Smith Blackburn award and was originally staged in London's Royal National Theatre so the audiences interest was definitely great and there was a lots of excited buzz around Croatian National Theatre last night.

"Three winters" happens in the same house in three different decades - 1945, 1990 and 2011 - and follows its inhabitants as they struggled with adopting to huge changes around them. Young couple in 1945 are partisans with a baby who somehow got the keys for the empty house from the government, as the previous (politically compromised) owners emigrated to Argentina and they feel intimidated with huge, luxurious space. The family in 1990 refuses to accept the facts about possibility of civil war and upcoming fall of Yugoslavia, even though ex-patriots who live and work in foreign countries know this for a long time (this is interesting to note as it really happened and we - who were right in the middle of it all - could hardly believe as possibility). Just as independent Croatia finally gets open door to EU in 2011 the very same family now faces moral dilemma as well-heeled new groom forcefully removes all the other neighbours in order to officially buy the whole house. Across the decades and generations there is also a very strong (and eccentric) presence of house real owner's daughter Karolina who was somehow left to live in here and who represents previous bourgeois society.

It was very interesting story and audience responded with laughter all the way trough as we could recognise ourselves in all of this - sometimes it wasn't pleasant because it felt like someone brought mirror perhaps just a little too close to our noses (we all know character like obnoxious, bragging Švabo) but in reality yes, this is how Croatian families talk, argue and laugh around the kitchen table. I am still not 100% sure about all that continuous cursing & swearing but my friends claim this is how people talk informally (I might be little too old fashioned, expecting theatre to be temple of art) - I simply don't find swearing neither funny nor entertaining but people around me roared with laughter so good for them. Occasionally I wondered am I going deaf as I couldn't hear half of it (and our seats were fairly close to the stage) specially when actors were not facing the audience. However, the biggest thrill was actress Nina Violić as Karolina who in my opinion absolutely stole the show - everybody had good lines but she relished hers, she wallowed in hers like in some beautiful silky satin sheets and I felt as I could hug her. There was also a surprisingly strong turn by completely supporting character (forcefully evicted neighbour) played by Mislav Čavajda who basically has only one scene but he is unforgettable in it, I found this a sign of really great acting when in such ensemble play one supporting actor stands out so memorably. As a strong-willed, scheming young bride Luca Anić also had a great moment in the spotlight, although the character repels me. It was a very solid cast enjoying surprisingly strong script, though some of the names I found maybe just a little bit overrated. Violić, Čavajda and Anić were excellent.

A night in the theatre: "Gospođa ministarka" (Mrs.Minister) by Branislav Nušić

I absolutely couldn’t miss the visit from Serbian theatre with play “Mrs.Minister”, one of the oldest and classic comedy works by wonderful Branislav Nušić, the play that has been 100% sure hit ever since it first arrived in 1929 - this is really a rare thing, theatre phenomenon that could always be re-interpreted and re-constructed to reflect human ignorance, stupidity and greed although it was actually written in some other times. I guess its longevity just proves that its a real masterpiece.

The main character here is Mrs. Živka Popović (played by Lidija Stevanović) - typical small-minded matron, busy with gossip, neighbours and her sewing machine, whose husband (never even shown in the play) might suddenly became a minister by some twists and turns of political upheavals. Surrounded by hangers-on, this newly crowned Mrs.Minister is immediately obsessed with all sorts of plots and plans how to overshadow her predecessors and impress the neighbourhood, while the whole household is instantly placed in turmoil and confusion. What follows is the genius of comedy and the fireworks display of provincial greed, ignorance and stupidity - Mrs.Minister parades around with a new golden tooth, gets herself a gigolo who will give her lessons in bon ton (she has to learn how to smoke, play bridge and definitely needs a lover because every elegant, sophisticated lady has one) and everybody around her has to improve since she will go places. There is a whole list of delicious supporting roles that circle around her like vultures, expecting favours now when she is minister’s wife - they will all disappear quickly the moment when minister resign, embarrassed by scandals created by his wife but even at finale, Mrs.Minister is not giving up, she faces the audience and promises she will be back! 

Its an excellent role and I bet every actress dream to play such unforgettable character as Mrs.Minister - her mad determination to show herself as classy lady is hilarious and audience loves her, we laugh with her as much as at her. I have seen several different casts on now-classic TV shows and it was a great joy to see the play finally live in theatre, specially as we had a rare opportunity to see Serbian actors performing it during a tour. It was “Boško Buha” theatre from Novi Sad - in old days of Yugoslavia it was very common that theatre groups tour the whole country up and down, but since we had civil war I guess things got scaled down to local performances and now, two decades after the end of the war, cultural exchange between two countries started again, to the delight of the audience who bought all the tickets to see this classic Serbian comedy play performed by Serbian actors. I have naturally heard some Croatian actors murmuring how they did it differently and faster but resisted to get involved in an argument with them, let them think whatever they want, this is Serbian play and these wonderful actors know best how to bring these characters to life. Loved, loved, loved it! 

p.s.

It seems that when the play was still new, critics attacked the playwright that this is all too local and provincial, but I disagree - even though its all about certain social group placed in its time, I bet that with the right translation this could be a huge smash everywhere.

"Exercises in Style" by Raymond Queneau

This was such a lovely evening in theatre, at once a pleasure of seeing a living, breathing monument of Croatian theatre (this play is continuously showing for already 48 years and its officially in Guiness World Record as longest ever theatre play) and a joy of sharing this with my dear friends, something that because of my constant travels is extremely rare occasion. 

"Exercises in Style" (Stilske vježbe in Croatian) has only two actors on a very simple stage - they both explain a very banal, everyday story in a variety of styles that are mind-boggling in virtuosity and its all done in a conversational style so it never gets boring, in fact we were all spellbound and constantly laughing and enjoying these, well, exercises in style. Same story was told as a monologue of a politician, mathematician, retired old man, spoiled city prima donna or a man-hating frustrated lady and it just went on like this for one hour until we were all in stitches. Sure, the original play by Queneau was probably slightly changed and adapted for our audiences because names of local streets and locations were used. Two actors who constantly play this from 1970 are Pero Kvrgić and Lela Margitić, both institutions of Croatian theatre. Younger of the two (Lela Margitić, 75) commanded more attention and occasionally corrected her 89 year old partner who was wonderful but we were simultaneously admiring his energy and wondering is he acting senile or is perhaps already there. The play lasted only an hour and that was just enough to shower them with warm applause and exit happy and satisfied. Again, what stays the most with me is the feeling of having a wonderful evening together with friends, something to remember and cherish most of all.

"Eugene Onegin" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

One of the very first things I did when I arrived back in my hometown was to check what's on in theatre, exhibitions, museums and concerts - after 6 months of sailing I was starving for something, anything cultural that I could feed my soul with, something to remember. The big disappointment was that tickets for Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro" were sold out so I had to go for second option, Tchaikovsky which now in retrospective seems a bit absurd because Tchaikovsky actually came to be far more moving experience than pretty, bubbly and comical Mozart (whom I love dearly) could ever have been.

                                         

With dear friends in tow, I went on trough cold and foggy Zagreb towards beautiful, baroque building of Croatian National Theatre where audience was full of Russian visitors - we could clearly hear Russian language everywhere, it was obviously big deal for them. This particular theatre is a serious business, to my knowledge the only place in town that carefully focuses on opera and ballet (unfortunately, I would love to have opera playing everywhere) and the interior is also quite impressive, a full-blown baroque majestic extravaganza that reeks of Austro-Hungarian sophistication, long gone days of bourgeoisie and the place definitely have a special energy, you can almost feel it everywhere. I must admit that from the whole Tchaikovsky repertoire it is his operas that I am truly not so familiar with - loved and often played his ballet music - so I was bit apprehensive about the experience, thinking that this might just fly above my head and I won't recognise anything but luckily I was wrong.

                                       

As soon as overture started I closed my eyes and let myself get swept away in beautiful, gorgeous music that felt like some kind of soothing massage. When I opened my eyes, the curtain has already lifted and the stage was breathtaking - what a beautiful, beautiful, imaginative scenery! And how strange that everything that I always disliked about Amsterdam's opera (ultra modern scenery that clashed with the music) was just perfectly right here, in my own hometown - or perhaps my own idea of how opera should be staged is simply old-fashioned magic, with historical costumes and all shebang. Actually the scenery was modern but it was done with such imagination and style that it looked stunning, simple and with few changes it worked just right trough the whole opera - it was truly magnificent to watch, not to mention that music was divine. We struggled a little bit with looking at the stage and reading subtitles simultaneously (of course, it was in Russian) but at certain point one just get accustomed to it (or like in my case, you just say, to hell with it and simply listen Russian language). Where in my childhood I remember operatic stars always being old, fat and looking nothing like romantic heroes at all, this cast was a joy to see as well - in fact, Onegin was actually ass hole of the play and the best music & characterisation was reserved for other roles, specially Tatyana (excellent, wonderful Valentina Fijačko whose letter scene was virtuosic) and Lensky (Stjepan Franetović whose "Kuda,kuda" aria was a highlight of the evening and we all just wallowed in pity for him) but of course main character (played by impressive Ljubomir Puškarić) was brilliant, its just that right now I can't really recall any music sung by him because he was such unlikable role. 

Contrary to my expectations, the whole evening was magical and we loved every minute of it. Why on earth the opera is called "Onegin" and not "Lensky" or "Tatyana" I have no idea because they were the true heroes of opera, but than again I don't remember Pushkin original so well so perhaps composer simply had to follow he poet's idea. I am listening bits and pieces of this opera for days now (with 35 operas in my collection, I still don't have complete "Onegin" so far) and still floating in the clouds from this beautiful experience. Unfortunately it seems there are no other operas on repertoire anytime soon (at least nothing classical that would appeal to me, just some modern pieces) otherwise I would, given chance, visit opera every week. 

A Gentle Tribute to Arsen Dedić

Just as I was slowly getting ready to pack away and leave my (frankly my dear) exhausting job, colleagues were asking me (with a just a little bit of envy) what will be the first thing I will do upon my arrival home. And I surely surprised them by saying that the very first thing will be to check what's happening around town, because although I am surrounded with luxury gifts, what really matters to me is a food for soul & heart & the brain, nothing material. This is quite unusual and it just shows how my perception of the world is different from people around me, who mostly can't see further than new pair of shoes, new watch, clothes, handbag and such - I guess we all treat ourselves with what makes us happy, one way or the other, so what matters to me are not material trinkets (because they are, after all, just material trinkets that will end up as another burden) but pleasure I get from seeing and hearing something that would inspire me and I might remember it and keep it in my heart long afterwards. So my answer was, I will treat myself with something that I really crave for and I had to deprive myself from, sailing from one part of the world to another, I will find some exhibitions, theatre, concerts and such to really enjoy my vacation and have something comforting because as much as we need material food, we also need food for thoughts, it has to be some balance. My work colleagues were slightly surprised but they probably expected this from someone who never drinks with them in a crew bar and spends his nights reading books - only Chinese colleague said something about her town having nothing as cultural repertoire, which surprised me, perhaps she simply wasn't looking properly into it.

So the very first thing I did upon my arrival was to excitedly check what's going on in my hometown and faced with Mozart opera in a National Theatre (no tickets unfortunately) and depressing Russian play (that goes on for 3 hours) what popped out at me was the best possible choice - evening in a small theatre, a tribute to my beloved songwriter/poet/singer, late Arsen Dedić who passed away last year and I cried bitter tears in some Napoli pizzeria when I  found out about it. Tickets were quickly reserved, friends informed and we all went there trough the rainy mid-week evening, expecting ourselves to be the only people in the audience, because evening of poetry and music probably does not appeal to everyone. 

To our biggest surprise, the wind & rain & cold evening did not stop the small theatre to be almost completely full - the word of mouth combined with gentle  affection certain generation of middle-aged, urban and culture-loving audience feels for Arsen of their youth was the best possible recommendation and we hardly had place to sit. After all, he was our national treasure, the man who not only sung and composed some really beloved music but also published   collections of poetry and in fact, was one of the people who established this very theatre we were visiting that evening. Earlier this year there was already a concert tribute from his wife & son, so this evening the performers were his old friend, singer Ksenija Erker and a guitarist. The idea was to create a small, heartfelt little happening, like something one would expect in a living room, with just Erker gently reminiscing about Arsen and her guitarist providing music accompaniment - the interest for these concerts was so huge that eventually the theatre decided to move them in to a larger stage and if I understood correctly these concerts are constantly sold out. 

Very simple stage nicely lighted up, welcomed guitarist who started the evening playing a famous theme for TV series "U registraturi" that we all knew and loved, Arsen composed this decades ago and it set the tone for the whole evening, with tears welling in my eyes immediately as I knew we will all wallow in nostalgia from now on. Why is it so that we only cherish our heroes once they leave us and always assume they will be here forever? Erker than joined the guitarist on a stage, she is in her 60s now and naturally looks & sounds completely different than in her 1970s heydays but whatever the years have taken away, the sparkling charm replaced it all because she truly is a extremely lovable and likable person - for this evening she decided to combine her favourite music composed by Arsen with sweetly nostalgic anecdotes about him and their lifelong friendship. Completely aware that some other, more celebrated or bigger names will eventually say their evaluations of Arsen's huge body of work, Erker said her intention was to give gentle, small tribute to a man who she  personally knew as a good friend trough the years and who was not only responsible for her start in music (she started singing in a children's choir on his 1960s recordings and as young hopeful singer was singing backing vocals on his records long before he composed her very first hit) but whose songs followed, inspired and comforted her trough the years. To prove this, she sang (among other things) Arsen's song "Otkako te ne volim" (Since I don't love you) hinting at her recent divorce and without explanations we all understood her. What surprised me most of all is how effective and strong the whole evening was - at moments it was pure magic, affectionate connection between audience and performer - even though there were no usual concert traps of choreography, lighting and special effects that we expect from live performances, in fact they mostly appear just a routine while this was purely heartfelt and beautiful evening, definitively the best choice I could have make. I recognised every single song Erker sang and laughed at little stories she shared about Arsen and their friendship (he might have been a curmudgeon but was always charmed by her) and best of all, was aware this is a wonderful moment right now and I know it and enjoy it very much. Very rarely I have experienced such moments and they are most treasured, relaxed and happiest moments of my life.