In a space of joint
performance, the collaboration between poet Ana Dević and
musician Lada Furlan Zaborac intertwines speech and sound,
poetry and music. Two equal voices and positions create a space
of mutual dialogue.
We encounter Medea in the streets of the afterworld as an
end-times figure with many faces. She is a stranger wandering
the city streets, a marginalised woman, am enchantress and a
healer, stepping out of retirement to work precariously and
seeing what we miss.
The end of the world doesn’t happen suddenly; rather, it becomes
a permanent state in which personal disasters meet the world
crises. Testing the boundary of what can(not) be said, here we
observe Medea as an archetype of the female experience: aging,
invisibility, all those quiet and big personal losses – love,
body and one’s place in a world falling apart.
Moving her away from the image of an avengeress, Spying on Medea
observes her as a figure of survival: from an unspeakable mother
Medea becomes a sister of the apocalypse we keep encountering.
Where her story is already proclaimed finished, she continues to
speak.
And then
Medea and I meet briefly
in the Dubravica bakery
while I'm ordering
a buckwheat salad.
She's wearing glasses
struggling to find the code
since she's new to the job
Is she working in retirement?
I say
take it easy
Easy doesn’t cut it in capitalism
says Medea.
Ana Dević: Uhodeći Medeju, 2026.
Translation: Marina Veverec
Thank you: Sonja Pregrad, Marko Gutić Mižimakov, Tea Kantoci,
Dora Brkarić, Romana Ilić, Urania, Zagreb, Jelena Miholjević,
Monika Herceg, Nikolina Maletić, Marina Veverec, Gradska
galerija Striegl/Holandska kuća, Sisak, Sanja Merćep
In a space of joint
performance, the collaboration between poet Ana Dević and
musician Lada Furlan Zaborac intertwines speech and sound,
poetry and music. Two equal voices and positions create a space
of mutual dialogue.
We encounter Medea in the streets of the afterworld as an
end-times figure with many faces. She is a stranger wandering
the city streets, a marginalised woman, am enchantress and a
healer, stepping out of retirement to work precariously and
seeing what we miss.
The end of the world doesn’t happen suddenly; rather, it becomes
a permanent state in which personal disasters meet the world
crises. Testing the boundary of what can(not) be said, here we
observe Medea as an archetype of the female experience: aging,
invisibility, all those quiet and big personal losses – love,
body and one’s place in a world falling apart.
Moving her away from the image of an avengeress, Spying on Medea
observes her as a figure of survival: from an unspeakable mother
Medea becomes a sister of the apocalypse we keep encountering.
Where her story is already proclaimed finished, she continues to
speak.
And then
Medea and I meet briefly
in the Dubravica bakery
while I'm ordering
a buckwheat salad.
She's wearing glasses
struggling to find the code
since she's new to the job
Is she working in retirement?
I say
take it easy
Easy doesn’t cut it in capitalism
says Medea.
Ana Dević: Uhodeći Medeju, 2026.
Translation: Marina Veverec
Thank you: Sonja Pregrad, Marko Gutić Mižimakov, Tea Kantoci,
Dora Brkarić, Romana Ilić, Urania, Zagreb, Jelena Miholjević,
Monika Herceg, Nikolina Maletić, Marina Veverec, Gradska
galerija Striegl/Holandska kuća, Sisak, Sanja Merćep
