Goran Bregović: a Polish View

Goran Bregović was in the area recently with a concert titled Three Letters from Sarajevo.   I could not make it, quelle dommage, but I alerted all my Slavic friends to go if they can.  I have been a Bregović fan since seeing the Queen Margo movie many years ago on VHS and being startled by the opening bars of the soundtrack: "Ju te san se zajubija....", a traditional   Dalmatian song.  Rushing through the credits, I learned that the movie music was arranged by one Goran Bregović. Later, I got a CD from a Polish friend featuring Bregović in concert with Polish musician Kayah and heard that he was immensely popular in Poland. Wow! It so happened that another Polish friend of mine actually made it to the concert and here is his account.

Three Letters from Sarajevo, review by Wojciech Zorniak

I had never seen Goran Bregovic live on stage before this Saturday. I overslept his biggest Polish hit "Sleep baby, sleep," recorded with Polish singer Kayah, I did not hear his duets with another Polish singer Krzysztof Krawczyk. I had heard a few of his pieces on YouTube. But, I knew that Brego, as he is known in Poland, was big because my friend was his Polish manager, wrote a book about him and as a result of this association he was able to buy himself a villa in the posh part of Warsaw.

Therefore, when I learned that Goran would appear in the Strathmore Music Center, which is within the distance of a Kalashnikov shot from my home, I would not miss the chance to see him. After all, man does not live by McCartney alone. Strathmore Hall, in suburban Maryland, juts outside Washington DC, was filled to the brim. From the conversations I overheard, I gathered that the audience was mainly the immigrant population from former Yugoslavia. Serbian and Croatian dominated. Not that I could capture the linguistic nuances, but I could tell that much.

I was hoping to eat čevapčići at the bar and wash them down with slivovitz, but no such luck. I paid ten bucks for a lousy plastic cup of mediocre wine from Chile. I sat next to my Balkan brothers who spoke the language so similar to mine, but still hard to understand. I felt at home, but a stranger all the same. An interesting feeling!

Finally, Goran walked on the stage in a white suit (as always), with a guitar and computer, immediately followed by three violinists, two bulky Bulgarian ladies in folk costumes, a brass band, a guy with a large drum and a male choir. And it started. Like a thunderbolt from the clear sky, like a volcano eruption, like an avalanche in the Alps, like the end of the world. I hit the back of my chair as if I were taking off in a space rocket. Ethnic music crucible dazed. The drummer hit the drum, the Bulgarian ladies climaxed in mezzo-soprano, the trumpets thundered straight from Jericho, and I, with horror, noticed that my legs began to shake dangerously, as if they wanted to dance. Strathmore is absolutely not fit for wild dancing. So I resorted to jumping up and down.

On the stage, it was getting more and more lively. "Three Letters from Sarajevo" is the title of the new Bregovic album and the program in Strathmore. The artist combined the music of three religious groups here, hence the three violinists. Three melancholic and romantic violin spacers gave us a chance to take a breath and recuperate. And then full throttle again. The walls were trembling, as did the candelabra, and the floors vibrated. The audience went crazy. People around me were on cloud nine, possibly ten. I had the feeling that in the heat of the sound battle some toothless Baba Yaga jumped into my bed. And Marshall Tito was looking down on us from above, smiling benevolently.

***

Another, non-Slavic, friend posted this on Facebook, also raving about the concert at the Strathmore.

https://www.facebook.com/betsysmithplatt/videos/10214760739946966/

Poster for the Bregovic Chicago concert

Back in Zagreb, I would have been hard pressed to identify Bregović as a member of the then popular Bosnian rock band Bijelo Dugme.  Even though many of us snubbed the band in favor of British and American groups, some of its hit songs, rooted firmly in the Balkan tradition, tugged at our heartstrings:  "It's like this, my dear, when a Bosnian loves you"  (Tako ti je mala moja kad ljubi Bosanac), "Speed on my horses"  (Požurite konji moji) .... They were too close to home for those of us striving to get away from the local culture. Sometimes one needs to see things from far away to understand their value. 

When the band fell apart, Bregović did not.  He left former Yugoslavia for the west and greater glory, based on his Sarajevo memories, poking fun at those of us who had rejected all things made at home.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fJP1seQFtY

Good for you, Brego!