REVIVE: Yugoslavia Town : Music Revives Town in Yugoslavia

By LEE ADAIR LAWRENCE

Aug. 23, 1987 12 AM PT

<i> Lawrence is an American living in Yugoslavia</i>

GROZNJAN, Yugoslavia — Music has been known to restore the weary, uplift the downtrodden and even cure the temporarily maladjusted. But revive a town? It seems that music can do that, too.

Were it not for music, time and neglect would have killed this medieval town in northwestern Yugoslavia. Instead, painters who discovered the charms of its winding streets and quiet courtyards established ateliers. A few years later, young musicians from all over the world revived the town’s soul.

Thanks to their efforts, Groznjan’s population is growing steadily as are the numbers of visitors who, every summer, discover its charms.

Surrounded by stone ramparts dating to the 15th and 16th centuries, Groznjan sits atop a hill in the center of Yugoslavia’s Istrian Peninsula. Around it the lush countryside unfolds in a succession of green valleys and low hills. At irregular intervals, rocky patches rip through this thick blanket of vegetation.

Flora has competed with stone on this peninsula since the beginning of civilization, millenia before Groznjan made its appearance in historical records as a medieval, fortified settlement in 1103. Since then the town has changed hands several times: Charlemagne’s vassals until the 14th Century, Venice, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Napoleonic France and Italy. At the end of World War II it became a part of Tito’s Yugoslavia.

Cobblestone Streets

Groznjan’s main gate bears the Venetian seal and a few of the houses along Groznjan’s narrow, cobblestone streets survive from the 13th and 14th centuries. Mostly, however, Groznjan’s architecture bridges the 15th and 18th centuries.

To the right of the main entrance stands a purely Renaissance loggia below what used to be the town granary. The baroque Church of Saints Mary, Vitus and Modestus presides over the town’s main square. The artwork inside the church traces a similar progression, from Renaissance choir stalls to a late Baroque altar in marble.

“Groznjan shared the fate of many Istrian towns, which were abandoned after the Second World War,” says Vladimir Ukraincik, director of the Institute for the Protection of Monuments in the Yugoslav Republic of Croatia. In the early 1950s many of Istria’s Italian families chose to emigrate, their cultural and linguistic ties to Italy proving stronger than their attachment to the land.

More young people left for tourist centers along the Dalmatian coast or north to Austria and Germany, where their labor commanded higher prices. By the early ‘60s Groznjan counted only 10 older hangers-on, and about 80% of its buildings stood abandoned.

“It became a question of either surrendering this town to oblivion,” Ukraincik says, “or doing something to reverse the trend.”

An Artists’ Town

Painters and sculptors took the initiative by having Groznjan officially recognized as an artists’ town in 1965. In practical terms, this meant state funding for the restoration and conversion of old houses into studios and galleries. As a result, a handful of artists made Groznjan their summer workplace.

But more was needed to bring life back to the town’s all too quiet streets. The International Federation of the Jeunesses Musicales happened to be looking for an “oasis of silence,” as former member Carlos Rego put it.

“We wanted to create a sort of musical research center, a place where federation leaders of different countries could work together,” recalled the former secretary general of the federation, Adelain Donet.

Through UNESCO, Yugoslavia offered Groznjan. “It was ideal: It had beauty, peace and a mix of cultures--Venetian, Italian, Austrian, Slavic.” In June, 1969, at a meeting in Budapest, Groznjan became an official federation project.

The next summer young musicians and aficionados from all over the world lugged sleeping bags and instruments up the dirt road to Groznjan. In consultation with restoration experts they replaced caved-in roofs, cleaned out debris, replastered facades and ushered centuries-old houses into the 20th Century by installing electricity and plumbing.

At day’s end, plumbers and plasterers unwrapped their musical instruments and gathered under the loggia’s graceful arches or in the main square. From this romantic vantage point they filled the evening air with the sounds of chamber music, jam sessions, solos. A hearty handful would often greet the dawn with varied melodies.

Musicians Tarry

Now music echoes in Groznjan’s winding street all summer long, day or night. Between the end of June and the beginning of September more than 700 young musicians tarry a while in Groznjan to take part in courses and workshops.

These are baroque music for cellists, classes in sitar for guitarists, master classes in organ, flute, harpsichord, violin, piano. Sounds as varied as jazz, electronic music and Istrian folk tunes spill through open windows into the stone-lined streets.

Alexandra Wagner, who took over the organization of the camp in 1986, has broadened the program.

“This year,” she says, “we are going to put on a musical which was written by Norwegian, Swedish, Danish and Yugoslav musicians.” Wagner has also overseen the incorporation of music-related activities: modern and African dance, workshops on the promotional aspects of cultural events, puppet theater, and yoga for the artists’ peace of mind.

“At first the inhabitants were a little leery of all this activity,” says Ukraincik, who has been coming to Groznjan regularly for 15 years. “But now they wish the program would last year round.”

Be it a jazz evening led by Yugoslav artist Bosko Petrovic, who regularly performs in festivals in the United States, or the Swedish mixed choir 34 Kor, the older residents crowd around to listen. In the noisy milling that follows every good performance, their comments uttered in an Italian patois mingle with the erudite pronouncements of young artists and older professors.

Younger couples from the surrounding areas bring their children, and some have elected to move to Groznjan. Within easy commuting distance to factories, Groznjan offers clean living, entertainment, cultural exposure and summer employment opportunities.

Potters and ceramists, painters, sculptors and graphic artists have opened ateliers and galleries within the medieval ramparts.

In summer, tour buses climb the paved road up the hill. The musicians and residents directed the development of tourism to preserve Groznjan’s special atmosphere. “For a while,” Ukraincik said, “tourists would come to have dinner in the open area beside the main square. There was even a disco, but all this proved too disruptive.”

The restaurant still exists and continues to serve its specialty, mushrooms grown, the story goes, in a tunnel where Benito Mussolini, former dictator of Italy, had train tracks ripped out and sent to Ethiopia. But the disco has disappeared, giving way to a concert/rehearsal hall.

Waking Up

With nearly 50% of its buildings renovated, an artist’s association with about 60 names on its roster and a permanent population of about 10 families, Groznjan is certainly waking up. “We continue to dream,” admits Donet from his office in Brussels. “But we must be realistic. The town has been saved; now comes phase two, its maintenance.”

The young musicians who make room in their summer plans for a course in Groznjan, as well as visitors who drive inland from the Dalmatian coast to attend a performance, all share Donet’s dreams for Groznjan. Like the officials of the international federation, they pursue their vision with love and dedication.

“There have been other restoration projects throughout Istria,” Ukraincik says. “But Groznjan, thanks to the impetus of the music camp, is by far the most developed.”

As one-time federation member and Groznjan aficionado Carlos Rega put it: “When you group musicians in one place and let them loose, they’ll do what they love most--they’ll make music.” In the process they have helped to create a center for the arts and revive a dying town.

For further information, contact the Yugoslavia National Tourist Office, 630 Fifth Ave., Suite 280, New York 10111, or phone (212) 757-2801.