Self-Historicization and Solidarity: Zdenka Badovinac on Art and Post-Yugoslav History
In this interview, curator and writer Zdenka Badovinac reflects on her experiences leading Moderna Galerija in Ljubljana during the turbulent years following the collapse of Yugoslavia. She discusses navigating the cultural upheavals of post-socialist transitions, fostering international artistic dialogue, and preserving avant-garde legacies in a region marked by war and shifting ideologies. Badovinac explores the challenges of confronting historical erasure and rethinking the role of museums as platforms for solidarity, history, and critical engagement.
Tentative Transmits: You started your career as a curator and museum director during a turbulent time in former Yugoslavia. Can you share how your early experiences shaped your approach to art and cultural practices?
Zdenka Badovinac: I began working at Moderna Galerija in the late 1980s, during the final years of socialism. It was a transformative time––the last decade of Yugoslavia and a vibrant period for civil society in Ljubljana, Slovenia. The 1980s were a golden era for youth culture, brimming with alternative movements like Neue Slovenische Kunst and other innovative artist groups. As a student, I was deeply immersed in this scene. By 1992, I became the acting director of Moderna Galerija, and in 1993, its director. This transition occurred after the dissolution of Yugoslavia, accompanied by war and the collapse of socialism.
These historical events profoundly shaped my curatorial and directorial approach. After Slovenia gained independence in 1991, we were building everything from scratch, including cultural policies. This offered immense learning opportunities, especially from artist groups and collectives like IRWIN and Neue Slovenische Kunst, who had already gained international recognition in the 1980s. As a museum director, I aimed to integrate an artistic and creative perspective into my work. While administrative tasks like securing funding were essential, the core of my vision remained rooted in fostering a dynamic and artistic framework.
Tentative Transmits: How did the shift from socialism to post-socialism affect and influence your practice?
Zdenka Badovinac: One of the first things I must highlight is my collaboration with Igor Zabel at Moderna Galerija. We worked closely together until his unfortunate passing in 2005. In the early days, nearly everything we faced was a challenge—working internationally, responding to the war, and understanding and building an international context. To foster international dialogue, I organized exhibitions that initially focused on Slovenian artists and later combined them with international, primarily Western, artists.
During the ongoing war in the Balkans, in 1995, I worked with artists from Ljubljana to engage directly with the situation in Bosnia and Herzegovina. We traveled to Sarajevo to ask the people there what kind of gesture would be meaningful. It was a deeply challenging experience. With no hotels, we stayed with families, creating a powerful sense of solidarity amidst the tragedy. It was formative for all of us.
From that experience, we initiated the idea of creating a collection for a future contemporary art museum in Sarajevo. By chance, I met Enver Hadžiomerspahić, who already initiated a similar project, Ars Aevi. He invited us to contribute our initiative to the broader effort. Over the years, this resulted in the formation of a significant collection. However, Sarajevo still lacks a physical museum space for it.
The idea behind this collection was to bring cultural and economic value to a city under siege. We invited renowned artists such as Anish Kapoor, Marina Abramović and Richard Deacon to contribute their work, alongside Slovenian artists like the IRWIN group. Fourteen artists donated works through Moderna Galerija, and other museums and international initiatives followed suit, adding to the collection. It became a major cultural asset.
In 1996, we organized a symposium titled Living with Genocide, which addressed the genocide in Srebrenica, and asked why the art world had failed to adequately respond to the ongoing war in Europe. This remains a pressing question, as many seem to forget that Europe faced war just decades ago. The tragedy lies in how war often becomes invisible even while its effects linger. In Bosnia, for example, the conflict continues to shape lives. There are limited opportunities for education and culture, with museums in Sarajevo unable to function due to the lack of a cultural ministry or central body for cultural governance.
The 1990s brought heightened sensitivity to the war and societal shifts. These changes fundamentally redefined my understanding of internationality. In the 1980s, as a young curator, I sought to engage with Western art and create dialogue with the global art scene. After the war, my colleagues and I at Moderna Galerija shifted focus, redefining internationality as a dialogue among neighboring countries with shared histories and urgencies.
In 1998, I curated Body and the East, the first Eastern European collection, which defined this regional context. In 2000, I initiated Artists 2000+, an Eastern European collection developed with advisors like Victor Misiano, Igor Zabel, and Harald Szeemann. Szeemann helped us bridge East and West, acquiring works by Western artists such as Jenny Holzer and Lawrence Weiner, whose contributions reflected the Bosnian war’s tragedies. These efforts emphasized creating dialogue between regions rather than adopting a universal perspective.
In the 2000s, my work centered on developing the vision for a new kind of museum. Initially, the goal was to build a collection; the next step was to conceptualize a museum as a tool to support local contexts and enable local artists to engage in equal international exchanges. Exhibitions like Interrupted Histories (2006) reflected this vision, highlighting the role of artist-archivists in constructing and questioning histories.
Through projects like Body and the East, I realized that postwar avant-garde art was often better preserved by artists themselves than by institutions. Museums in Eastern Europe largely failed to collect or reflect avant-garde works, leaving artists to self-historicize. This process—artists creating their own archives and narratives—became central to my curatorial work. For example, I worked with artists like Lia Perjovschi and Art Pool, whose archives were featured in Body and the East. It was through these experiences that I coined the term “self-historicization,” highlighting the necessity for artists to contextualize their work in the absence of institutional support.
Tentative Transmits: What lessons from the Yugoslav and post-Yugoslav context still remain relevant today?
Zdenka Badovinac: Many of us from former Yugoslavia have learned from socialist history. As a student in the 1980s, I critiqued socialism, especially the transformation of Partisans into some sort of "red bourgeoisie”. However, the rise of nationalism and right-wing politics in the 1990s triggered cultural wars, pitting socialist legacies against efforts to demonize them. Yugoslav socialism was not authoritarian in the same way as regimes in the Soviet bloc. While there were elements of totalitarianism, Yugoslavia's context was more nuanced. These cultural wars persist, influencing young people’s perceptions of history and identity. This polarization coexists with broader global processes, including technological advancements and globalization. Recognizing how these histories intersect with current dynamics is crucial.
Tentative Transmits: Many leaders today seek to erase socialist legacies in favor of nationalist or right-wing agendas. How can we advocate for socialism and solidarity?
Zdenka Badovinac: Advocacy is challenging, especially given the crisis of leftist politics, which has lost its sharpness and visionary appeal due to repeated failures. However, grassroots initiatives and micro-politics offer hope for fostering a better society.
The pandemic highlighted the need for robust social systems, such as healthcare and education, which functioned effectively under socialism. In contrast, privatized systems struggled to manage the crisis. Unfortunately, many people in former Yugoslavia have disregarded these histories, despite their successes.
As Boris Buden suggests, socialism today exists primarily in cultural translation. Intellectuals and artists, rather than politicians, are the ones preserving and reflecting on its legacy.︎
This interview was conducted in Havana, November 2024, in relation to the public program of the exhibition Transitions, curated by Tijana Mišković & Liatna Rodríguez.
