How it all began
In 2018, I visited the exhibition Toward a Concrete Utopia: Architecture in Yugoslavia, 1948–1980 at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. It absolutely blew my mind! Discovering what had been built in this country during the Cold War was fascinating. From that moment, I began thinking about doing a project there. But it wasn’t until 2024 that the inspiration came true, when I finally shot Memory and Hope.
The World War II memorials in the former Yugoslavia exist thanks to the vision of Josip Broz Tito, president from 1953 to 1980. He wanted to create a distinctive style of commemoration, different from the rigid socialist realism of the Soviet Union. This gave architects and sculptors in Yugoslavia the chance to design a legacy of memorials that were not only monumental, but also abstract, symbolic, and poetic.
Slobodište (Freedom) Memorial Complex — Kruševac, Serbia (1965)
Designed by architect Bogdan Bogdanović, this memorial complex commemorates the hundreds of Partisan soldiers and civilians executed in the city between 1941 and 1944 during the German occupation.
On the day I filmed, with the temperature reaching 38°C, I spent several hours alone at the site, accompanied only by birds, bees, and butterflies. In their presence, I felt the flow of transcendence from life to death, as if the valley’s winged creatures echoed the spirit of the monument’s sculpted forms.
" I feel freedom, sunny summer landscapes stay calm and quiet below my spread wings and open eyes.
Death is a transcendental voyage".
Hrib Svobode (Freedom Hill) Memorial — Ilirska Bistrica, Slovenia (1965)
Designed by sculptor Janez Lenassi and architect Živa Baraga-Moškon, this memorial is dedicated to the fighters of the 4th Yugoslav Army who liberated this area from the Germans during World War II, and honors the partisans from the overseas brigades who fought in foreign lands.
What fascinated me here was the way its creators integrated curved shapes within a cubic structure. While the forms allude to the underground caves of this region, they also evoked for me a dimension of time and space that extends beyond the rough materials and textured surfaces.
"I hear deep silent echoes: past, present and future beating at the same time. Death is endless peace".
Popina Memorial Park — Popina, Serbia (1981)
Designed by architect Bogdan Bogdanović, this memorial marks the site of the first full frontal confrontation between Partisan forces and the occupying German army.
Its imposing geometric sculptures rise atop a hill, surrounded by trees whose leaves rustle vigorously in the wind. At times I felt peace, at other moments fear — a feeling that dissolved with the gentle touch of a butterfly.
I travel across portals of light and shadows. The wind whispers ancient memories and sings songs of joy. Death is transmutation".
Flower Monument — Jasenovac, Croatia (1966)
Designed by Bogdan Bogdanović, this memorial stands on the site of a former forced labor and extermination camp. It honors the hundreds of thousands of Serbian victims executed by the extremist Independent State of Croatia (NDH) and administered by the fascist Ustaše regime, supported by the Nazis.
Under the intense summer heat, the desolation I felt here was immense. Yet it was a gift to witness a woman praying — meditating in silence, unaware of my presence. Through her, I understood the meaning of the entire place.