Showing posts with label Bosnia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bosnia. Show all posts

2011-10-06

Amira: Or Dreaming the Balkans

Autumn, falling leaves, and time to listen to new music:

 

The new album of Amira Medunjanin features the tradition of Bosnian romantic songs in modern arrangements. Her angelic voice creeps immediately under your skin, leaving you with a pleasant shiver of melancholy and sweet emotions.
"Sevdah" is not only the most prominent song tradition in Bosnia, but also a certain attidude towards life, read an excellent  description of Muhsin Rizvić, Literary Historian:
“The meaning of the word sevdah in the Turkish language denotes amorous yearning and ecstasy of love, and has its origin in the Arabic expression “säwdâ”, which encompasses and specifies the term “black gall”. Namely, ancient Arabic and Greek doctors believed that the black gall, as one of the four basic substances in the human body, affects our emotional life and provokes a melancholic and irritable mood. There from derives the expression in the Greek language “melancholy” with a figurative meaning of the direct projection of its basic meaning: melan hôlos – black gall. Since it is love itself that causes the same mood, in the Turkish language these terms were brought into a close link with the semantic identity, accomplishing a  conceptual result of a dual projection of the basic meaning. Linking these two meanings has opened the process of a poetic transfer of symbolic and emotional qualities from one term to another. This resulted in the birth of a new term related to specific lyrical and psychological features.
In our society, the feeling of love expressed by the word “sevdah”, retaining the basic tone of its emotional commitment has got a melancholic notion of the Slavic-Bogomilian transience of space and time. In essence, our sevdah is both, the passionate and painful longing for love, as well as the melancholic and sweet one, the feeling when you are incapable of enduring the pain caused by love, and the pain transforms into the ecstasy of the intoxication of love that compares to the slow process of dying. Pain, because love cannot be fulfilled at that time, sometimes because space and time act as a wall and obstacle to it, sometimes because there are obstacles of individual, social, familial, traditional or simply emotional and psychological nature. Sevdah expresses itself as torture by others and oneself, and the pleasure of whipping deriving from the identification with the yearning and masochistic experience of love despite the awareness of its futility.” (credits here)

2010-11-27

Tuzla - and a Tale of Memory

I didn't go there on purpose. It was a few hour's stop on a long bus ride in 2006. Walking around I noticed construction works all over the place, activities like in a beehive. My head and stomach still numb from a hilarious wedding I looked for a place to sit down. A newly opened fast-food restaurant with young couples holding hands was not exactly the place I was looking for, so I stopped in a simple inn.

When I had nearly finished my coffee the party at the next table invited me friendly to come over, asking where I was from. “Weimar!” exclaimed the gentleman, who seemed to be the most talkative of them. “We adore your culture. Franz List! Brentano! Der Lindenbaum!” and started humming a romantic folk-song. “We are friends here”, he went on pointing to the other men. “He is a doctor, this is the pharmacist. I am a violinist. We have always been friends. This one is Croatian. Most of us are Bosniaks. But we do not have problems.” He must have noticed my puzzled look and went on: “And the woman in the kitchen is a Serb. We speak the same language, we are all the same.”

These words reverberated in my head as I was walking to the bus station. International money had rebuild the city after the destruction. The victims did not express any anger. But I feel guilty. My nation is an offender. In the place where I live the brightest light of culture is intertwined with the utmost darkness. My Bosnian host reminded me of the light. But I cannot forget.



LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin