urban narrative: croatia and slovenia

the perpetual narrative of urban movement was particularly strong this trip through croatia: starting from Zagreb, Split and Zadar in Croatia, and ending in Ljubljana, capital of Slovenia. reconstruction, conservation, redevelopment, gentrification - all present in the intimate spaces of the smaller Croatian cities and towns, some of which grew out of their old fortress walls, moving back inside during periods of conflict and instability.

in particular, Split's Diocletian's Palace proved to be a unassuming but vastly organic structure. although the Dalmatian capital quickly grew outwards from the palace walls, ensuing conflicts forced the city's inhabitants to claim sections within the old walls as their own, building houses that often used the original wall as their rear walls. following the establishment of the Republic of Croatia and the advent of tourism as a key industry, a large part of the original residents have now moved out of the old town, leaving the uneven stone walls to holiday apartments, cafés and art galleries.

conversely, today in Zadar the old city is being regenerated - locals who previously preferred to live outside the centre are creeping back into the refurbished buildings.

red peristil

wandering around on our last day in Split, Croatia, we chanced on the Neranka Gallery, run by a charmingly genial painter and graphic artist, Pavo Majic. more importantly, he was one of the generation of artists who lived in Soviet-era Croatia, captivated by the perceived cultural vibrance and edge of the capitalist West.

he introduced to us to the work of Pave Dulčić and others who performed a piece of intervention art on Split's symbol, the Peristil of Diocletian's Palace, in 1968. the group painted the stone courtyard of the Peristil a red colour in the early morning, standing in stark contrast to the weathered granite of the Palace, as a reaction to Croatia's position within communist Yugoslavia. Dulčić later was arrested, prosecuted and committed suicide. today the stones are their original colour.



having come into contact with Soviet Constructivism in Rodchenko and Popova at the Tate Modern, i was struck by how this emotive and defiant piece stood at the other end of the scale from the mechanical art advocated by the Constructivists. at the same time one is aware that today as we look back on these works their social contexts have fallen away: they have been made less intense, transformed from symbols of social change into relics of a recent past.

more on Pavo Majic and the Neranka Gallery later...