Following her win at this year’s 58th BITEF festival, Nora Čulić Matošić talks to the dramaturg and writer Jasna Jasna Žmak about her solo show this is my truth, tell me yours, hypocrisy, hyper-production and the value of awards.
Nora Čulić Matošić: First of all, congratulations on winning the Grand Prix award ‘Mira Trailović’! Have the impressions settled since that evening and how were the performances in Belgrade?
Jasna Jasna Žmak: Well, the impressions still haven’t settled in. It has actually been quite an intense period ever since I came home from BITEF. All I have been doing ever since is mostly giving out interviews and I’m pretty exhausted and fed up from all this media attention. Although, I also have to mention a quite peculiar case of ignorance of the award by the mainstream Croatian media outlets. In fact, the biggest newspapers and news channels haven’t even published the news about the award, let alone got in touch for an interview. I guess it has to do with the fact that my piece isn’t a big national production but in fact a small feminist independent production.
But, to come back to your question, the performances in Belgrade were great, the audience’s reactions were beautiful and I had a really nice time performing and hanging out with people at the festival. It was perhaps the two most rewarding performances I have had ever since I have started performing the piece, the first night that was especially a blast. Coming to Belgrade for BITEF, I didn’t even think about the awards so it was quite a crazy ride to come back home with the Grand Prix.
NČM: Kind of a redundant question, but I have to ask – how significant is this award for you and your play this is my truth, tell me yours? Especially in comparison to some other productions that are bigger, more expensive and with larger troupes.
JJŽ: The fact that such a small, independently produced performance, which on top of that is a solo, that has almost no scenography and its’ production and creative team is made up of like two and a half people (let’s mention them, while we are here: Romana Brajša, Špela Trošt, Ana Kreitmeyer, Anton Modrušan), won in such a “big name” competition, alongside huge productions, that have a lot of money invested in them and teams behind them like they are small movie sets – makes this victory even more important for me. I’m very happy because I feel like I haven’t won just for myself but also for everyone from the independent scene. As you know, the working conditions on the independent scene are precarious and very harsh so this award proves that even in these unfavourable conditions you can make something important and big.
NČM: Considering that shows that were awarded with the special award ‘Jovan Ćirilov’ are Sex Education II: Fight and Cadela Forca Trilogy Chapter I: The Bride and The Goodnight Cinderella, do you perhaps see a statement behind the jury’s choice?
JJŽ: Of course! I have no illusions that awards in general are super objective and a real measure of anyone’s worth. But what’s nice about this years’ awards at BITEF is that they signal a wider societal change. This year’s jury, that was made up from these specific people, mostly young women, made it possible for specific productions, also mostly made by young women, to take away these victories, these awards. All of the awarded pieces deal with women’s rights and women’s bodies, both of which are being minimized in various ways or even trying to be eradicated. Again, I think it’s a super important victory which is bigger than our individual productions because it opens up space for female gazes and voices, both in theater and in our society.
NČM: Speaking of statement, your play touches on various topics. In an interview for Telegram.hr before BITEF, you said you were sick of hypocrisy and silence in art. Could you elaborate what particular issues does that concern?
JJŽ: I feel that a lot of contemporary art is very declarative. It deals with some topics like emancipation, inclusion, equality, tolerance, and so on, but, at the same time, the working conditions behind these productions deny all these topics which they are supposed to promote and include. So, this kind of hypocrisy where, for example you have big feminists exploiting their assistants, being super bitchy and unsupportive, is something that really brings me a lot of discomfort and unhappiness. It’s not what I signed up for. I really feel that art then becomes just another place where we repeat the same problematic societal mechanisms that just reproduce the same state of things over and over again. And the problem is that art claims to be something else, you know, it claims to have a potential for change and emancipation but in the end it’s just a façade – and that’s quite discouraging for me.
NČM: In this is my truth, tell me yours you touch and discuss different topics, one of them being the treatment of artistic geniuses. This is something you have also written about in your book of essays Dirty Words. How does it come to this non-critical worshiping of an artist in your opinion?
JJŽ: I believe this worshiping of big authorities is something that dates way back from our contemporary society, it’s not something that happened yesterday. On the one hand, I understand that people need authorities, something bigger than them to rely on, to trust, to protect them, to look up to, but on the other, in our contemporary society which is all about image and presence, this admiration starts to be heavily blown out of proportion. So, I don’t have any illusions, I don’t think we could live in a world without authorities completely, I understand we need to have things to aspire to. But at the same time, I think we definitely need a new model for these authorities.
NČM: How do you stand on the idea of ‘separating’ the art from the artist whose personality we don’t like or they just aren’t nice people? Is there a way to solve this dilemma?
JJŽ: I solved this dilemma for myself a while ago: I don’t separate these two things and I think this separation is exactly where the problem lies. To use a worn-out metaphor, I think you should teach and live what you preach, you know. It doesn’t necessarily mean that I will ignore artists who have done some bad stuff but I will certainly not ignore this “bad” parts of their biographies, on the contrary, I will make these “bad” parts part of the conversation about their work, and it will definitely influence the way I view and discuss their work. The problem is that often this bad parts remain hidden and it’s much easier to know these “bad” parts in the local context then on an international scale. And I really feel my approach to the local artistic scene changed due to this, because I know these people too well (laughter). So, in a way, the international scene is much less contaminated for me, which in a way is also a relief, but on the other hand I think it would be wonderful if we as a society would approach these themes differently. Of course, the danger of cancel culture lurks behind every corner when talking about this, but again, I don’t think cancelling people is not the way, but contextualising things is.
NČM: You work at the Academy of Dramatic Arts in Zagreb at the Department of Dramaturgy as an assistant professor. Can you influence your students to un-learn these worshiping patterns and demystify the concept of artist’s greatness, if this question is even okay to ask? I ask because I personally sense that narcissistic culture is pretty strong right now, despite conversation happening discussing this issue.
JJŽ: I actually don’t feel there is a lot of public conversation about these issues. For sure, there is a lot of talk about sexual misconduct and exploitation, about power dynamics and discrimination. But I feel we aren’t really dismantling the artistic field as much as we could, we aren’t talking about artistic narcissism, self-exploitation, non-critical admiration and so on. And somehow these discussions always remain somewhere on the margins, the mainstream somehow always manages to avoid this topics, at least in Croatia. Although my work with students is mostly on developing their own artistic projects and helping them to cultivate their artistic thinking, I always try to make the questions of their responsibility as artists part of the conversation. I think it is important for them to think about what they are doing when they are doing art, especially when it involves other people, whether fictional or real.
NČM: You also hold psychodramatic psychotherapy workshops concerning different issues and topics like assertiveness in work environment or coming to terms with one’s own sexuality. Do you see your play as a product of sublimation, in a sense that with repetitive performing you have slowly managed to come to terms with issues you discuss in it and your tinnitus? Is it self-empowering for you to perform your piece?
JJŽ: To be honest, it was self-empowering to make it. Performing it is another story. On the one hand, it’s rewarding to feel recognition from the audience, to feel their support. On the other hand, it’s exhausting because I have played it almost forty times now and still have new performances scheduled for next year already. And this is a part of the I have never witnessed before. As a dramaturge, you work until the premiere and then you basically forget about the show. But as a performer, you continue to live with it. And when a performance has a long run, it’s very nice but it also becomes exhausting.
But, to get back to your question, this self-empowerment was a kind of prerequisite to do the piece in the first place, it required a lot of strength to be able to stand alone on the stage and say all of these things in a meaningful way that also has structure. When I started working on it, I wasn’t sure if I will be able to do it, so I decided to go into it with an open heart, I told myself: “Okay, maybe I’m not fit for doing this, maybe I will miserably fail, and that’s also okay, I will be a failed dramaturge and that’s okay.”
NČM: Is there a difference between Jasna and Jasna Jasna or is this that moment when a journalist and critic inscribes a deeper meaning where there really isn’t?
JJŽ: Now it’s mostly just a game. I like to play with words and so at some point I have decided to play with my name as well. This doubling of my name happened because of my book of short stories Moja ti (My you) so when this book came out, I was very insistent on using the double Jasna in all media appearances. Now I don’t care, I’m both.
NČM: What is your opinion on the current state and trends in Croatian theatre, particularly Zagreb’s theatre scene? How do you feel about hyperproduction – do you see it as an issue, a challenge or a blessing?
JJŽ: I definitely see it as a problem, but I don’t think the scene itself is to be blamed here, but the working conditions and the way the wider cultural system is set-up. There could be some really simple changes that could ease this pressure of hyperproduction. Of course, I know that nothing is simple when you’re changing such a huge infrastructure, but small steps would also be cool for a start. I really believe the cultural field could become more of a meaningful space for people to create where there wouldn’t be such a pressure to perform, perform, perform, produce, produce, produce. Of course, it has a lot to do with how we perceive to role of art in the wider society as well, and again, it takes a lot of effort and time to change this kind of things, but I believe it can be done, not tomorrow, not in ten years’ time maybe, but yes in the long run.
NČM: Besides touring and performing rerun of your play right now – do you have any other plans in the future? A new lecture performance perhaps? Will we see you on stage again as a performer?
JJŽ: I don’t think so, not for the next ten years (laughter). Pieces like these are quite specific and this piece needed a lot of time to be created and now I would like to take more time before venturing into something new. We’ll see, really, let’s give it ten years. I have some ideas of course, a lot of ideas actually, but since lately I didn’t have a lot of free time, I also enjoy the idea of having some of that as well.
Further reading: review of this is my truth, tell me yours
Nora Čulić Matošić (1998) is a student of Comparative Literature (MA) at the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences in Zagreb. She has written theatre criticism for the Croatian radio programme Theatralia and web portal Kulturpunkt.hr. Besides theatre, her interests are other forms of performing arts (particularly dance performances) and film.