Boško and Admira
- Kaja Petrovič
- Dramaturgy: Nik Žnidaršič
- Set design and video: Dorian Šilec Petek
- Costume design: Nina Čehovin
- Music and sound: Gašper Lovrec
- Lighting design: Andrej Hajdinjak
- Language consultant: Mateja Dermelj
- Graffiti: Dorijan Šiško
- Stage manager: Urša Červ
The starting point of the project is a wartime photo of a dead couple, embraced, on the Vrbanja bridge. The muslim Admira and the orthodox Boško Brkič tried to escape the occupied Sarajevo in 1993, but were shot by an unknown sniper mere metres before the border. The author of the photo, the American photographer Mark H. Milstein and the journalist Kurt Schork named the couple “Romeo and Juliet of Sarajevo” and – despite the protests of both their families – turned the tragic death of two young people from opposing sides into a sensationalist story of a young couple in love, caught in the bloody dissolution of Yugoslavia.
When analysing the photo, the creators will question war photography and their own attitude to it. And war photography, torn between glorifying wartime violence and being an essential reminder of the horrors of war, is actually in a similar position than the production will find itself. What is an ethically responsible and reasonable position of an artist in relation to the documentary materials? What right do we have to use theatre space to talk about the pain of others that we ourselves cannot understand? Isn’t the question of sensitivity and ethics often simply an excuse for social inactivity? And above all: how do we avert the next war?
The actors frequently step beyond the stage, exiting through the front doors and even leaving the venue of Pošta (formerly Nova Pošta of Mladinsko Theatre), effectively expanding the performance space. This directorial choice is particularly interesting: when the actors disappear from our sight, we are left to rely solely on the camera projecting what unfolds beyond the wall. But can we truly trust it? Or are we naively deceived? This spatial expansion is especially powerful in a scene where Keser and Bezjak lie on the ground outside (beyond the visible stage) in the position of Boško and Admira’s bodies, and the camera projects this image onto the screen. Just a few moments later, they step onto the stage, even though the external image is still visible. And for a moment, the audience is in shock, realizing that they have just been deceived. [...] The performance feels highly dynamic. It is composed of numerous short scenes, which, due to the fast-paced rhythm, the audience struggles to fully process. At times, it can even give the audience the impression that too much is happening on stage. [...] Nevertheless, the thematic and poetic-aesthetic aspects of the performance remain very strong – especially the ending.
Marko Turk, Boštjan Videmšek