Nearly fifty years ago, improvising a melody to Lorca's verses, I composed my first song. Over time, I grew bolder and dared to replace the great poet's words with my own youthfully clumsy lyrics. I called it "ZELENCI". Years later, Srdjan and I began our midnight serenades at Sponza, merging the opening bars with the toll of Maro and Baro.
Had I wanted praise, I could have asked a friend to write a few kind words. But that would be like trying to sell you something, so — none of that.
I have been singing and writing about the City for half a century, and painting it for the last 35 years. I feel the need to say a word or two about the source, because this is about all of us. The City, a dowry of beauty set in stone. Stone embraced by stone — the city walls that guard the bud like thorns on a rosebush branch. A place from which even the sun is reluctant to depart, let alone the people who press against its walls, keeping company with the sparrows, deciphering the language of stone, the whisper of the sea in the port, and the echo of silence from Peline. The City, where a person is alone or together with the whole community. As they please, as they choose. And the stone remembers — it recognises those who return, and with a gentlemanly gesture returns their kindness.
I will ask for just a bit more of your patience, because I need to thank some dear people. My friend Alek and the first band "SABLASTI", Mario Polzer and VIG "LIBERTAS", VIG "DUGA" and the group "SIGMA".
Ljubo Majstorovic, a dear soul, a true musician who brought many of my songs to life with his artistic mastery. I am grateful to him for "PRIPOVJESTI IZ GRADA" (Tales from the City), for his invaluable help in recording the final seven songs, and for a friendship I have cherished all these years.
Frano Matusic, with whom I recorded the album "SANJALICA" (The Dreamer) and performed countless shows, always accompanied by the reliable support of his unerring guitar.
And my dear Srdjan. From the very first day, we were bound by friendship and a love of music. We performed at many festivals and on many stages, but Sponza has always been and remains our favourite place. Before the time comes to put down our guitars, my wish is — and I know we will — to perform one more midnight serenade at Sponza.
My artistic expression began somewhere around the age of six or seven. Since my mother painted, there was plenty of art literature at home. Leonardo's horse studies captivated me for years. I believe I drew hundreds of horses: rearing, galloping, standing still.
My painting tools were pencils, chalk, and an old box of watercolours that had already been used — a gift from the gentleman Kosta Strainic. My canvases were all my school notebooks (squared, lined, and my favourite — the blank ones). For large-scale works, I used the concrete surfaces of the streets: Posat, Srednji Kono and Vicina ulica. There you could see horses at their natural size.
I should mention that in the third grade of primary school I won a national prize for drawing (I no longer remember which one, but I think it was third place). And so it continued until the third year of high school. At seventeen, I signed my first professional contract as a singer in the band Sablasti, and my artistic career was put on hold.
On this occasion, I would like to thank my first teachers: Leonardo, Van Gogh, and my mother.
During the period of obsession with tresette (the oldest card game, described across seven pages of the Italian encyclopedia), we would practise concentration, memory and precise reaction for seven hours a day through cups, clubs and swords. That is how we came to understand the character of our opponents and the reactions of our teammates. Of course, we played for drinks, not for money.
And so, after many years of card obsession, one day instead of heading to Pile, I went to the department store and bought painting supplies. I vowed to paint a hundred scenes of the City. That plan turned into the execution of several thousand paintings, and I continue painting to this day.
