In visiting Belgrade for the first time I was inspired by a city which is depicted to be wrought with tragedy. Mediated history of Serbia is often reduced to fragments and time-lines dealing with either genocide or atrocity related to, for example, the bombing campaign of NATO. With little space in such media for the leaking of everyday experience one could be lead to believe that this is a morbid country. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth. In so many respects Belgrade is a soft and welcoming environment, both eloquent and nurturing.

A host of ours had much to say in lines of advice for us visitors:

1) When encountering hostile youth, understand that many are suffering an inferiority complex, as, through communist times, people were lead to believe the rest of the world despised Yugoslavia. (We came across no hostile youth).

2) Serbia is best experienced through its people, not its architecture or infrastructure.
(I was pretty shy of Balkan decadence and had, for the most part, my head pointed upwards, checking out the various forms of windows and blinds.)

In the windows and blinds I had found much pleasure. The individual personalising their variation of what was essentially a (or a set of) generic hole with the option of slats. How one would cover or open their windows, the extent to which decay had placed a signature on every crevice had for me become a parallel language describing an emotional history. -One perhaps much closer to an actual history than processed media.  

In attempt to deal with this language I had planned an intervention of façade in order to translate some of these forms, basically this set of silos to the upper-right of which I was to mount my own hand-made windows. In the end this was not possible as the bastards form city planning etc. had a bad relationship with those in the cultural programming for the city. On top of that it is pretty stupid to be drilling holes into a silo.




The actual project is a follows: project