Битеф

12

SAMO JOŠ NEŠTO ZA KRAJ

'lstorija kamen tuca Od miljajoj jetra puca Nokti joj se plave. Ovaj svet je prepun strave! Ovaj svet je rep bez glave! Ovaj svet je san bez jave!

Mesec dana posle Bregzita, u jeku terorističkih napada koji nasumično potresaju evropsku iluziju o bezbednosti, dok nam žičane ograde niču u dvorištima, odvajajući nas od onih koje smatramo manje vrednim, kao i od onih koji nas smatraju manje vrednim, sprema se još jedan Bitef. Jubilarni. Beli bik na djim leđima se vozimo već hiljadama godina, opet je počeo da se trese poput mehaničkog rodeo-bika, čiji je motor sa brzim kočenjem očigledno trokirao, zbacujud sa svojih leda sve vise iscrpljenih jahača, od kojih su neki, momentalno pregaženi njegovim moćnim i teškim kopitima, završili vožnju na obalama Lampeduze, na ostrvu Utoja, ispred minhenskog tržnog centra ili na par stotina kilometara od Beograda, Ostali jahad se i dalje truckaju, radujući se što su još tu - u pokretu, što i dalje mogu da gledaju radanje novog dana, verujući da će, nekim čudom, biti bolji od prethodnog i da će vožnja, možda, postati mirnija.

Istorija vodom teče, Od strujanja krv je peče, Suze joj se dave! Ovaj svet je prepun strave! Ovaj svet je rep bez glave! Ovaj svet je san bez jave!

Mi dakle, spremamo Bitef, koji je, u svojoj poluvekovnoj istoriji koju ove godine slavimo, i dalje u sedlu, I dalje gleda svet i pokušava da ga stvarno vidi - onoliko koliko je to moguće sa pozicije jahača u sumrak civiiizacije. Ali treba reći da je to veoma iskusan jahač koji je video i zapamtio SFRJ, Hladni rat, Nil Armstronga na Mesecu, samoupravni socijalizam, Jugoslovenske ratove, hiperinflaciju, embargo, tranziciju, liberalni kapitalizam, post-tranziciju, post-istoriju, post-post istoriju, i sada gleda ovo, što mnogi još nazivaju i ovim-što-nam-se-dešava. Ko će maglu i obiake umesiti u kolač? - pitali su kreatori kultne predstave Pupilija Ferkeverk pre nekoliko decenija. Ja se danas pitam: Ko će da pojede kolač? Ovo je posiednji tekst koji pišem za katalog festivala kao selektorka Bitefa, iako ću, nadam se, još neko vreme ostati u sedlu kao gradanka Evrope - možda sam naivna, ne znam. U proteklih deset godina, i ja sam puno toga videla. Nešto od toga bih i da zaboravim, ali vise je onoga što želim zauvek da zapamtim. Programirajući Bitef zajedno sa Jovanom Čirilovim a potom i samostalno, nastojala sam da razmišljam izvan realnih vremenskih i geografskih koordinata - što je zaista bila retka privilegija.

JUST A FEW GOODBYE WORDS

1 History crushes the stone, As it lets out a blissful groan Its nails are bluishly palled. This world is pure dread! This world is a tail with no head! This world is a dream with no way ahead!

A month after Brexit, at the height of terrorist attacks shattering the European illusion of safety here and there, while barbed wire fences sprout in our yards separating us from those we consider less worthy, and those who consider us less worthy, another Bitef is on its way. Jubilee! The white bull, on whose back we have been riding for thousands of years, has begun shaking once again like the mechanical rodeo bull whose engine with fast breaks has obviously crushed and who throws off his back an ever-larger number of exhausted riders, some of whom, trampled by his powerful and heavy fiooves in a blink of an eye, have ended their ride on the coasts of Lampedusa, on the island of Utoya, in front of a Munich shopping mall or a few hundred kilometres away from Belgrade. Other riders are still jolting, happy that they are still there - in motion, that they can still watch the birth of a new day and believing that, by some miracle, they will do better that their predecessors and that the ride will, perhaps, slow down.

History flows through water, Currents make its blood go bitter Its tears drown on dry land! This world is pure dread! This world is a tail with no head! This world is a dream with no way ahead!

And so, we are preparing Bitef which is still, after its half a century long history we are celebrating this year, in the saddle. It still watches the world and tries to really see it - as much as it is possible - from the position of a rider at the twilight of the civilisation. Nonetheless, it needs to be said that it is a very seasoned rider who has seen and remembers SPRY, the Cold War, Neil Armstrong on the Moon, self-management socialism, the Yugoslav wars, hyper-inflation, embargo, transition, liberal capitalism, post-transition, post-history, post-post-history and now watches this that many also call this-that-is-happening-to-us. Who will make a cake out of fog and clouds? - asked the authors of cult production Puppilia Ferkeverk a few decades ago. Today, I wonder: Who will eat the cake? This is the last text I am writing for the festival catalogue as a Bitef curator although, or so I hope, I will still keep in the saddle