A documentary film titled "The Last Yu Dokumenta" by author Jasmin Duraković will soon see the light of day. Jasmin Duraković is the director of the Bosnian Cultural Center in Sarajevo, a film director and producer, the first general director of Federal Television of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and a man who began his professional career as a journalist for the student newspaper Valter—the same paper where the now-famous writer Miljenko Jergović honed his journalistic and editorial career. Duraković immediately found himself in the whirlwind of a major scandal but was also the man named the best journalist in Bosnia and Herzegovina in 2000. At Kont, that cult Rijeka space seemingly predestined to connect rather than divide, we talk with Jasmin Duraković about his projects, the reasons he took up cameras and film stories, and the reasons he appeared in Rijeka. Because, connecting is a must.
– In life, you don’t choose the things that will happen to you. In the eighties, I was writing for a student newspaper and immediately fell into an affair. I was skilled at writing. Then those evil times came; we were all pushed into them. We were dealing with film and big politics at the same time; it was war, I was involved in the film archive of the Army of BiH, and I was developing as a film director, journalist, and editor. In all of that, one also learns some management business. I didn't want to be a producer, but I had to be a producer because I realized that if I wanted to shoot my film, I had to be my own producer. This led me to the status of general director of Federal Television BiH; I was at the helm for eight years, but I resigned because I wanted to pursue my own filmmaking. I have this nerve within me that drives me to work, to try, to create new value in art and culture. I can't say why it is so, but it is so, Jasmin Duraković began.
I didn't want to be a producer, but I had to be a producer because I realized that if I wanted to shoot my film, I had to be my own producer.
That nerve that drives the creation of new value in art and culture pushed Jasmin Duraković to tackle the "Yu Dokumenta" exhibition, held twice in Sarajevo. What was "Yu Dokumenta"?
– It was a major exhibition of modern and contemporary art held in Sarajevo; it took place twice, in 1987 and 1989. Namely, somewhere around 1984 or 1985, a team of artists led by Jusuf Hadžifejzović started a project, a small exhibition where they promoted new artistic practices and the Sarajevo art scene of those years and named it "Yu Dokumenta." In the end, their project turned into a large exhibition that all the most relevant artists of today consider the most significant in the territory of the former Yugoslavia. It is significant that this exhibition was happening in Sarajevo at that time, despite the fact that the dominant art centers of that era were Belgrade, Zagreb, and Ljubljana. Due to the breakup of Yugoslavia and everything that happened, "Yu Dokumenta" was pushed aside, and that was exactly my motive for starting work on a project like this. Perhaps sometimes we think about many things that those who should deal with them will actually do something. However, we live in quite wild transitional times—it is felt strongly in art as well—and many great stories have remained sidelined. If we don't make them ourselves, no one will. For me, this coincided with another thing: just before that, I made the feature film "Holiday of Emptiness," in which Jusuf Hadžifejzović also acts. In the film, we deal with the Sarajevo art scene; it’s a city crime story connecting some events around Charlama when they wanted to kick us out of Skenderija. We then staged a rebellion of young artists and forcibly returned to our gallery. Of course, our protest was announced, but during that protest, we removed the padlock they had put on the Skenderija doors, moved back in, and we are still inside. Behind all that was a barbaric idea; that space of Skenderija, as a historical cultural site for Sarajevo and beyond, is a target for the political-construction mafia that wants to turn it into a shopping center, a hotel…. This is a problem we have everywhere; it has no borders in the region—this neoliberalism is ruthless. That feature film deals with that as well.
We live in quite wild transitional times—it is felt strongly in art as well—and many great stories have remained sidelined. If we don't make them ourselves, no one will.
In other words, those two exhibitions, which in those times placed Sarajevo alongside the so-called cultural centers of power, are today completely marginalized in that very same Sarajevo?
– That is exactly right. I am a film director, so perhaps from that side I have a certain sensibility; on the other hand, and most importantly, I have been friends with Jusuf Hadžifejzović for many years. Together we have the Charlama gallery in Skenderija, and that gallery in a way represents a small continuity of those processes from the eighties, making it a continuity to the present day. Over time, I realized that nothing exists in Sarajevo about "Yu Dokumenta," and that was my motive to tell that film story. Especially because two of the three people who worked on the exhibition then—namely Jusuf Hadžifejzović and Aleksandar Saša Bukvić—are my friends. I didn't do the documentary as a classic television documentary, but rather as a film story in which the main protagonists are Jusuf and Saša. Through the two of them, we tell the story, which we filmed in Zagreb, Belgrade, and Ljubljana, and on all those trips they are there too as we try to find the fragments of that story. In Belgrade, there is a cult surrounding that exhibition; several galleries today inherit the artists who were in "Yu Dokumenta" at that time. Time has shown that the people who were at "Yu Dokumenta" were creating art history, not only for Sarajevo and Bosnia but also for Croatia, Slovenia, and Serbia. That was my motivation.
"Holiday of Emptiness" is, therefore, marked by your personal experiences. You are connected to "Yu Dokumenta" in a similar way; is everything you do permeated by or connected to your personal experiences?
– I recently worked on a film with a suggested theme, "The Last Frontier," which deals with the refugee issue. The film is decent, but I wasn't the most satisfied because I hadn't lived through any of it. My earlier films were that; for "Nafaka," I started writing the script during the war. It's a very personal film since I found myself in the siege of Sarajevo as a young man; the first working title of the film was "The American Dream Has Just Died." That's how we felt generationally. "Sevdah for Karim," for example, is also a very intimate story related to the people and things around me. Currently, I am also working on the project "The Ballad of Pišonja and Žuga"; it isn't directly connected to me, but it is connected to that whole story of the eighties—it’s a generational story about the scene I was part of, since I was a young journalist then, and about people I knew. I'm doing that with Sejo Sexon, who usually does the music for my films. That time in the eighties was, in a way, a golden age. And it's clear to us that it's not just a Sarajevo story; we constantly have inquiries from people across the entire former Yugoslavia about when "The Ballad of Pišonja and Žuga" will be finished.
Time has shown that the people who were at "Yu Dokumenta" were creating art history, not only for Sarajevo and Bosnia but also for Croatia, Slovenia, and Serbia. That was my motivation.
What is Bosnian film like today, and film in general? The impression is that a lull has set in, as if there is a lack of real themes?
– I agree. We have to look at it in the context of the entire situation. Bosnian cinematography has become burdened by the legacy of the nineties. We all felt the need to transfer a phase of our lives onto the cinema screen. However, today there is a festival terror on authors to deal with certain themes—themes of war, Srebrenica…. Saturation has occurred, and we are currently in a moment where filmmakers have to do other things. I tried to move away from those themes in "Holiday of Emptiness." Festival culture causes us a lot of damage. Personally, I am a supporter of auteur cinema—that is, that the author is recognized by how they tell a story and how they use film language. I think we don't have to flatter the audience at all costs, but the audience should not be underestimated either. I hope we will all emerge from that trapped mind in which we have lived for thirty years. The other day I watched a wonderful film by colleague Ahmed Imamović, "To Die Before Death," which is a completely new thematic approach. That film won't go to any festival because it doesn't fit into the festival scheme. But it is vital and important.
Your arrival in Rijeka is related to an interesting cultural project on the horizon, which would connect Sarajevo and Rijeka?
– The view from today's Sarajevo is interesting. I am deeply involved in the happenings on the Sarajevo scene; it is extremely important to me to create ties and contacts with what used to be called the alternative scene, and today is called the extra-institutional scene. I think that extra-institutional scene is extremely important; it is very often the driver of processes. In Sarajevo, there is a fine sentiment toward Rijeka; Rijeka is associated with urban culture, with great artists who are not Zagreb and are always a bit sidelined, and there are very strong ties among those people. Somehow it seemed logical to me to artistically connect Sarajevo and Rijeka and to try to make something new, to strengthen those cultural ties. The desire is to bring Rijeka artists to Sarajevo, show their works, and finally make a presentation of the Art kvart portal, because in this day and age, it is truly a rarity to launch such a media project dedicated only to culture. Naturally, after that, we would do the same thing in Rijeka with Sarajevo artists.
Rijeka is associated with urban culture, with great artists who are not Zagreb and are always a bit sidelined, and there are very strong ties among those people. Somehow it seemed logical to me to artistically connect Sarajevo and Rijeka and to try to make something new.
One of the links in this project is also Jusuf Hadžifejzović?
– Jusuf is one of the most important links in this project. Few people have a status in Rijeka like Jusuf Hadžifejzović does. He was the initiator of many things; I know many artists who say he helped them when they were shaping their ideas. Of course, our wish is for him to be involved in the project; it is also our wish that he be present when we present both of these films, the documentary and the feature, in Rijeka.
As the director of the Bosnian Cultural Center, you can surely say what the current state of culture in Bosnia and Herzegovina is—is it stagnating in one place, or is it developing, and in what direction?
– Sarajevo has lived through a harsh war and transition story. It is the capital of a state that is still unorganized, or dysfunctional in many elements, and that affects the scene. On the other hand, it is precisely that dysfunctionality of institutions—because there is no system of support for culture as is the case in Croatia—that leads to the scene facing many more problems. Yet, despite all that, Sarajevo today has an extremely interesting art scene. Some of the writers from Sarajevo are leading writers in the region; there are many contemporary artists; Sarajevo has a functional scene, and that is good. Everything is quite unorganized, but the art scene exists. Besides that, we also have this struggle with nationalism. I always say it’s easy for Croatia—it has only one nationalism; we have three. For a long time, we had that phase of a political-national complex; the ruling oligarchy focused on nation and religion, which is partially understandable due to the war and some other historical circumstances, but culture suffered there in a way. However, it seems to me that this thirty-year matrix has exhausted itself—not only because of the new government, made up of the left and the center, but because that matrix of nationalism and religion is descending lower, and culture might be more in the interest of the people.
I always say it’s easy for Croatia—it has only one nationalism; we have three. For a long time, we had that phase of a political-national complex...
So, this joint art project between Sarajevo and Rijeka will be part of those new cultural processes in Sarajevo, and in doing so, perhaps some part of the dormant Rijeka scene will wake up as well?
– That is exactly the biggest reason why I came to Rijeka, Jasmin Duraković will conclude.
