I went last night out in Sarajevo.
I visited the Karabit café. This café is the newest place in which you could find cultural elite of the capital. It is rather small, white colored, café with warm atmosphere. The music is discrete, beautiful and definitely nothing that you'll hear on MTV and Viva pop music channels. On the second end of the café is large room that is functioning as a place for exhibitions and performances. On the wall was projection of an artistic movie.
Usually I am fond of the modern art, but this time, something was missing in this multimedia presentation.
I didn't like it at all. It was empty and non-creative I have to say. The beamer was set to repeat projection over and over. People, dressed as chic as the same top social class in Paris or New York, were happy, smiling, chatting and drinking. In the elegant glasses was usually Zilavka or Blatina, the famous wines, totally unknown abroad, from southern part of the country. I registered two American girls near my table. Young Bosnian artist was talking to them. They were listening him very careful and his accent was definitely US and not British.
Interestingly but there is no doors or walls, on the other side of the café, which would separate Karabit café from the small but unique Sarajevo's library (and publisher) company Buybook.
I went to the shelves. Books were predominantly about art and were in English exclusively.
On the left was that book, which immediately caught my eyes. On the cover was large, double page sized, photography of the crowded beach.
I started to wonder; beach was full of energy and beautiful bodies. I could sense movements an action that were frozen for forever on the photo. My curiosity started to rise. I opened the book; it was collection of fashionable photos. Young, beautiful faces and bodies started to stare into my eyes.
Something was very disturbing and full of eroticism on these pictures and despite that fact I couldn’t stop to stare on them.
The chaos, the lust, the fashion and superb aesthetic were expressed on very fine way on all pages of the book.
I wanted to say something, I felt lost and anxious, I opened my mouths, whether to scream or to ask someone, and then I saw title:
Any objections?
Mario Testino