Perhaps it can be compared to the ripening of Sicilian oranges: experiences ripen in music not just once, but two, three,… countless times. And that is why it is possible that melancholic music, written by an experience of loss or impossible desire, eventually tastes so sweet.
We are in Pazin, a small town in the middle of the Croatian peninsula of Istria. A group of local musicians is playing songs from the region but also from far beyond. Some contradictions linger in the air, but nearby, violins and an accordion, wind and fire, thoughts take their course: who are we, where and when…?
A very hot summer evening in Slovenia. A courtyard of a hostel in Ljubljana. There are three musicians. At the very back, 4 security guards stand around, hanging out uninterested and talking a tiny bit too loud. What exactly there is to secure is not entirely clear. But is it ever?
All the good consists of 3. Right through the traffic-free center of Ljubljana, the Ljubljanica flows. The bustling, tourist part on one side, the calmer historic center on the other side of the river. In the center of that center is a beautiful square. Named after France Prešeren a well known romantic poet. To connect his square with the other bank, one built three bridges at just 10 meters apart. Three! Why three? What is the story of these bridges?