Let 3: Trouble In Travnik

So, the current state of the Croatian-Bosnian cultural flow seems to be as follows: one batch of a dozen showbusiness-folk singers (with a handful of reinforcements from Serbia) heads one way, and one controversial Rijekan art-rock group Let 3 heads the other.

Or possibly not: a Homeland War veterans' organisation has predictably enough condemned the Folk revija concert scheduled for 7 March in Zagreb (although with the 5,000 tickets rapidly selling out, the 'poor sales' excuse for a diplomatic cancellation isn't going to wash), and Let 3's 24 February concert in Travnik is under threat after the new director of the local Cultural Centre revoked their right to use the hall with not much more than two weeks' notice.

Emir Maličević was apparently concerned at the group's tendency to strip naked on stage and its effect on 'the proper cultural education of the young people who would attend the concert' - although Let 3's gimmick these days, in line with their most recent album Bombardiranje Srbije i Čačka (The Bombing of Serbia and Čačak) - is turbo-punk covers of newly-composed folk music performed in a variety of hyper-Balkan national costumes. (Which they intend as the highest possible degree of irony, and surely not as folk music for people who would never listen to folk music.)

After the ban was confirmed by Travnik council at the weekend, Željko Komšić - the Croat member of the Bosnian state presidency - has now intervened in defence of Let 3, arguing that Bosnia-Herzegovina's international reputation would be threatened by 'any kind of ban in the sphere of culture and the arts' and that 'I know Travnik has never been, nor will it be, a "dark vilayet [Ottoman province]" as some ill-intentioned people want to present it.'

The organisers of the Travnik concert, Alter Art, are collecting messages of support on their website (166 of them, at last count), including a response from the marketing and promotion manager of Let 3's label Dallas: according to Mario Grdošić, 'few people in the civilised world today do not understand creative and artistic freedom, and the basic principles of good pop provocation - and he adds that despite the title of the band's last album they have successfully sold out their concerts in Belgrade and other Serbian cities, plus an appearance at the 2006 Exit festival in Novi Sad.

Alter Art are currently vowing that the concert will go ahead - if not at the Cultural Centre then at another venue. And as for Folk revija? All systems seem to be 'go', despite opposition from Narodni radio's authentic-folk-music DJ Drago Rubalo, who complained to Jutarnji list:

'When was the last time you saw [tamburica singers] Kićo Slabinac or Vera Svoboda on HTV? Domestic television's music programming is too serious and viewers need musical education to follow it. We're dealig with high culture, and on the other hand countless Bosnian and Serbian TV stations, which are accessible 24 hours a day in Croatia as well, are playing turbofolk. People need a rest and
detachment from the grey reality of everyday life, and unfortunately they're finding it on Serbian TV stations.'

Even Less To Do With Belgrade

Estavisti wants a new post, and I have been back for a week, so here's a quick miscellany. One might have thought that Belgrade should have provided as many opportunities for a post as the Gazette's trip to Ljubljana last year did: and it did, but most of them were of the 'Arrange in ascending likelihood of a secret affair: Rebeka Dremelj, Željko Joksimović, Toše Proeski, and Anna Vissi' variety, and other Svet-type snippets.

Flamingosi, the Serbian Eurovision-representatives-who-weren't following the collapse of Evropesma, continue to be ubiquitous (a new B-side version of the song replaces its list of European capitals with cities in Serbia and Montenegro: 'Šabac, Kotor, Novi Sad / Podgorica, Beograd'), despite the fact that - political significance aside - Ludi letnji ples is what people who don't watch Eurovision think Eurovision is like.

That would be unlike the British chav anthem, the fake German country band, or the Finnish metal band in monster masks then, Catherine?

Point taken. So, continuing the Gazette's main theme for spring, the Severina/Let 3 Moja štikla video has been around for a while, in case you want to watch her chasing them around Zagreb with her štiklama. The Letovci had their own moment in the spotlight last weekend at the annual Porin award ceremony, winning two awards for the best rock album and the best video, and performing Ero s onoga svijeta wearing even higher-cut versions of Severina's Štikla dress. (Continuing their parody of showbusiness folk music and hypermasculinity, the song's their version of the final kolo from Jakov Gotovac's Dinaric opera which was also adapted by Marko Perković Thompson into the middle eight of his Geni kameni.)

Ivan Mikulić, meanwhile, attempted to outdo the lot of them by appearing on Melodije Mostara with fifty dancers in folkloric costumes to accompany him on Igraj, igraj, nemoj stat' (Dance, dance, don't stop). Večernji list comments that 'he did it in the style of Severina, using mainly elements of ethno-music and the rich choreography of numerous backing vocalists in national costumes.'

Some day soon, there'll be a point where even the Gazette is asking how much more ethno-choreography it can take...

Turbo Video

What feels like several hundred Moja štikla articles ago, one short-lived line of debate was comparing the song to the last album by Rijeka rock group Let 3, a relentless spoof of masculinity and turbofolk entitled Bombardiranje Srbije i Čačka (The bombing of Serbia and Čačak). The CD's cover art shows the band members dressed (and undressed) in folkloric costumes, not to mention their trademark moustaches.

Moustaches aside, does this remind you of anything? Severina obviously thinks so: according to Jutarnji list, she intends to feature them in the video for Moja štikla, where they will stand in for her ganga-singing backing vocalists from Lado.

This ought to be good fun, but judging by some of the comments on the article online, it may be a riskier collaboration for Let 3 than for Severina.

Talking of videos, the Bosnian portal 24sata.info (not to be confused with the Croatian tabloid) reports that the promotional video for the BiH Eurovision entry (Hari Mata Hari's Lejla) will be directed by Pjer Žalica, director of the 2003 film Gori vatra, and filmed in various locations around Mostar, including the famous bridge.

According to Sabina Bačvić-Zečević, a spokeswoman for Bosnian television:

'Given that 'Lejla' is a BH version of Romeo and Juliet, the video will carry strong BiH symbolism and will entirely follow this year's slogan "It's time for Bosnia-Herzegovina". As the director Pjer Žalica's synopsis promises, the video material will be ambient. Žalica is foregrounding the natural and cultural variety [šarolikost] of this country and, of course, the brilliant interpretation by the performer, Hajrudin-Hari Varešanović.'

Without a pre-selection scandal in the manner of Dora or Evropesma, one might have forgotten that Macedonia was even participating in Eurovision this year. In fact, Elena Risteska was chosen on the same day as Severina to represent her country in Athens, and her Ninanajna is (again, sticking to a theme) a satirical song about Shakira, Madonna and, yes, turbofolk, something like Alka Vuica's Profesionalka.

Now, what does one need to do to get her to add a line about Severina?