Maja Knezović, Cim, Bosnia & Herzegovina
A Confirmation of Return
Author: Maja Knezović
In late 2018, when my partner and I relocated from Mostar to Zagreb, I firmly believed that I would never return. Many of my friends shared the same sentiment, and I suspect they remained steadfast in their decision. While it is not essential for this narrative to outline all the reasons that influenced my return, it is a fact that significant life choices are rarely entirely straightforward or effortless, and this one was no exception. Naturally, I pondered what it would be like to be back there without the company of my closest companions, who always made everything brighter and more bearable. I questioned whether I would ever regret my decision.
As I departed, it seemed to me that Mostar was enveloped in despair and defeat and that the present circumstances bore no resemblance to the past glory it once boasted. I bought into the pervasive media narrative of division in Mostar (administratively speaking, it is divided, and that is an undeniable truth), despite never personally experiencing it. However, at times, we stumble upon the confirmation or refutation of our assumptions in the most unexpected of places.
After a delightful and scorching summer filled with unforgettable moments of socializing, going on exciting excursions, bustling tourists, and vibrant events, the once lively streets have now transformed into desolate, almost hunting passageways during the night, as is often the case with Mediterranean cities. Although the thermometer may not have always reflected it, the unmistakable change was palpable in the air—summer was bidding farewell and autumn was stealthily creeping in.
Until recently, this particular time of year had been my least cherished, perhaps because I associated it with the conclusion of summer’s blissful and carefree days and the onset of new responsibilities. However, ever since I stepped out of the educational system, circumstances have taken a different turn, and in the year 2022, that very October would turn out to be the most significant period of the entire year.
In less than a month, something truly magical unfolded. While I don’t believe in fate, I firmly believe in the power of beautiful and significant creations that arise from the profound influence of collective knowledge, talent, relentless effort, and positive energy. And it was precisely the convergence of these elements that gave birth to a significant and high-quality performance in this city.
I hold a deep and intimate connection to the performance titled ‘A Night with Aleks’, presented by the Croatian National Theater in Mostar, as I bore witness to its entire creative process, although not as a member of the cast or the technical team, but as an observer and a dedicated supporter, particularly because the dramatic script was penned by my longtime partner.
The text and the performance center around the final days of the poet Aleksa Šantić, who, even in his lifetime, became an emblematic figure of Mostar, immortalizing the city throughout his poetic verses.
However, the text encompasses far more than a mere attempt to recreate those days. It eloquently captures the essence of the city, the distinctive Mostar mentality, the intricacies of familial and neighborly relationships, and the recognition of elements that have remained unchanged or have only slightly transformed over the course of decades.
Undoubtedly, this script and the performance stand as one of the most culturally significant events to unfold in this city, for they artfully reflect its spirit and essence.
Despite the initial plan to begin rehearsals and work on the play in the spring, the busy schedule of director Ivica Buljan and the constant postponement of the dates led to everything being rescheduled for October 2022. I believe the director arrived on October 3, and the premiere was set for October 27. In the world of theater, this is considered a relatively short amount of time to prepare for a play.
Both Marko and I felt a mixture of apprehension and skepticism about the final outcome, at times even growing frustrated. We were determined to ensure that the play received the adaptation it truly deserved. However, as soon as rehearsals commenced, a surge of energy and enthusiasm enveloped everyone involved in production. I found myself inexplicably drawn into the process, attending social gatherings at the theater almost every evening after rehearsals.
These gatherings provided a platform to discuss the work process, where Marko made adjustments to the script for the actors or wrote additional scenes for the actresses. However, above all, it was a wonderful opportunity to connect and socialize.
Throughout this period, I had the chance to become acquainted with the entire theater group, as well as the hardworking technical team who passionately work behind the scenes. Not only were they skilled and innovative, but they also possessed an infectious energy. If it hadn’t been for the play, I likely would never have encountered many of these fellow individuals. As I typically perceive a city based on its residents, Mostar has now become significantly more cherished and intimate to me than ever.
I refrained from closely observing the rehearsals, as I wanted to experience the play in its entirety at its culmination. In the technical room, Marko and I would patiently wait for the others to come from the rehearsal. The hallway reverberated with the voices and melodies of Šantić’s songs, masterfully composed by Mitja. The music subtly conveyed the wistfulness and melancholy of Šantić’s verses. One of those songs, “Hajdemo muzo” (“Let’s go, my muse”), became my constant companion during that time. Its melody would lull me to sleep at night and greet me in the morning. At some point, it seemed to have permanently occupied my thoughts, as songs often do.
The premiere took place on October 27, 2022, with the preview held the day before. I walked out of the performance with my knees and hands trembling, attempting to process everything I had just seen, heard, and even smelled. The performance was a whirlwind of emotions, with scenes transitioning abruptly from tenderly quiet to hysterically loud. Throughout the entire play, the actors remained in constant motion—singing, playing instruments, dancing, or engaging in dialogue—often all at once. I remain fascinated by their ability to rehearse and execute such a complex task in just twenty days. And that as well was one of the emotions I processed—an immeasurable sense of pride for each and every one of them for how masterfully they carried it all out.
Above all else, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude stemming from the realization that even in this city, often referred to as the ‘hopeless case city,’ there exist such remarkable and essential initiatives and elements, and that life and creation persist here despite constant assertions that everything is amiss. These elements and the people behind them contribute to the city’s improvement.
Upon my return, I sought confirmation that my decision to come back was worthwhile and meaningful. Most importantly, I longed for reassurance that a unified Mostar existed, one that embraced all of us who rejected the imposed categories and instead celebrated the city’s differences. It was this diversity that made Mostar truly special, despite relentless attempts to convince us otherwise.
How ironic that this took place within one of the politically “entangled” institutions. However, it is crucial to remember that theaters (“pozorišta” or “kazališta”, whichever synonym one prefers to use) are not political in nature but rather belong to us, the citizens. The same principle should apply to all public institutions as well.