Cekaonica: Belgrade’s not-so-secret bar
Belgrade guide books often mention “secret bars.” In reality, they’re born more out of need than secret. Owners flaunt zoning regulations/papework and create bars in abandoned hospitals, basements, or empty apartment buildings. Some of these, like the Federal Association of Travelers, are exactly what you picture: they’re found through an unmarked door in the basement of an apartment building, and make you feel like you crashed a very civilized cocktail party. Others are tiny, loud apartment-sized spots. Some are actually in apartments, with very angry-or tolerant-neighbors.
They’re definitely bars, but not not exactly secret; many have websites or are commonly shared through word-of-mouth. Still, most people have a favorite “secret” bar, and I’m no exception.
My favorite not-so-secret bar? Čekaonica.
Čekaonica is located at the top of the BIGZ building, a half-abandoned printing plant that was built in the mid-1930s. BIGZ building is just off a highway in an area that’s part industrial, part late-night clubs, and part Senjak mansions. Typically Belgrade, really.
There’s no sign, so visitors simply walk in the building, past a sometimes-present security guard, and turn right down a dark hallway to find the freight elevator. There’s graffiti everywhere, and enough random noise and sounds that make you realize the building isn’t abandoned–but that the residents may not there legally. And if that’s not enough to make you feel a bit secretive, wait until you get into the elevator.
The freight elevator is my second-favorite thing about Čekaonica. It’s not for the timid, because it lacks interior doors, and it’s not for the uninitiated, because it’s operated by pushing the knob button on the bottom AND the floor button you want. Like a secret code, if you will. And nothing impressed my cohorts (Serbian and American) like showing them a crazy building, a scary elevator, and a secret code.
Until they saw the view.
This is my favorite thing about Čekaonica. It’s one of Belgrade’s few (only?) rooftop bars. From here, you can see the glory of the fortress, the brutalist architecture of Novi Beograd, or the seediness of the train yard. It’s the perfect spot to watch the sunset with a glass of wine and listen to live jazz. Because that’s right readers, it gets even better: Čekaonica is a jazz club.
The bar, I’m told, got its name (“waiting room”) because there’s a recording studio and jam space in the lower levels of BIGZ. Musicians would hang out on the roof while waiting for their turn to play, an enterprising person decided to put a bar up there, and Čekaonica was officially (unofficially?) in business. While this place isn’t so secret anymore, it manages to feel low-key. That is, until the new “secret” club next door starts blasting the bass at 1am.
Čekaonica is open from 10am-2am, and is located at the top of the BIGZ building. I don’t have the address, but ask for the BIGZ building and any taxi driver should take you there. You can find the bar’s Facebook page HERE.
30 Posts in 30 Days
30 posts in 30 days–completed! Now I have free time to stare at blobs of paint on walls, like this guy:
This mural is on one of my favorite Belgrade walks: Kneza Mihailova to Kalemegan Fortress.
I’ll keep up the blog (pinky swear), but not every day. I’m shooting for a Monday-Wednesday-Friday post schedule. Thank you to all the readers and commenters who kept me going, and for introducing me to your blogs for inspiration. Happy Friday to all, and super happy Friday to my fellow NaBloPoMo participants.
Yarn Bombing: this IS your grandma’s graffiti
I normally post about “traditional” graffiti using stencils or spray paint, but I thought I’d highlight a wacky form of the genre: yarn bombing. All over the world, people knit around potholes, bicycles, even trees to make an artistic statement. This tree sleeve is from Dupont Circle in Washington, DC, courtesy of the DC blog Prince of Petworth:
D.C. is no stranger to yarn-bombing. Bicycles and buildings have also fallen victim to the yarn bomb:
Image source: http://tinyurl.com/bhcs8fz
Image from Washington Post
I’m not sure how I feel about it. One one hand, it’s a fun, harmless form of expression (unless that’s your bike). On the other, this seems more silly and crafty than artistic. And I can just imagine all the Serbian grandmothers out there, shaking their heads and imagining all the papuce they could knit with this yarn.
Still, I have to admit, it makes me smile–especially when I think of some grandma planning to pull off a yarn bomb in the dead of night.
I guess Banksy put it best: “Some people become cops because they want to make the world a better place. Some people become vandals because they want to make the world a better looking place.”
A universal word?
I tried to find another word for graffiti but came up short. Could this be a universal word, like shampoo, google and coca cola? Is there some nomadic tribe wandering around, complaining about little dobogoogoo’s graffiti tags?
I guess Madonna was right: life IS a mystery. So feast on the only graffiti I liked in Paris, wandering around the Marais.
American graffiti
In the spirit of U.S. election day, here’s a DC graffiti mural depicting people rising up against political oppression. Hopefully it won’t have to come to that after tonight…
For DC readers, this is right by the New York Ave animal shelter–sorry I didn’t write the street down. Hope the phone pic does it justice.
Graffiti in Belgrade-and Beyond
Belgrade is known for its graffiti, which can be both good and bad. Bad because much of it is uninspiring (or worse, gang-related) and good because you can see original art, political commentary, or just something to make you smile. Most of the graffiti artists are Serbian, but I recently came across a mural by a Polish artist whose murals are in museums and on walls all over the world. Mariusz Waras’ mural is off of Kneza Milosa by the Canadian Embassy:
The mural is part of a 2009 Belgrade Arts Festival project. Waras, whose project or perhaps alter-ego is called M-City, has done similar work in Poland, Spain, Germany and Ireland. Not bad company for Serbia. Here’s a closer look at the mural:
You can see the artists’ other works here.
I found a little information on Belgrade street art at the excellent Vandalog blog, but I’d love to find a blog solely dedicated to Belgrade’s Banksys. Since I haven’t found one, I might have to console myself with a copy of Street Art Love, a photo essay of Belgrade’s more notable graffiti.
If you have any interest in Belgrade or graffiti art, it’s worth picking up a copy at Belgrade’s Supermarket store or on Amazon.com. I guarantee it will be one of the more interesting coffee table books you own.
Lennon vs. Lenin: The “Peace Wall” of Prague
Regular readers know I can’t resist a good spot of graffiti, much less an entire, city-sanctioned scrawl wall. Welcome to the Lennon Wall in Lesser Town, Prague.
Shortly after John Lennon’s death in 1980, an honorary tombstone was painted on a church wall in Lesser Town, Prague. This was no simple act of vandalism; both rock music and Lennon’s messages of peace were deemed subversive by communist authorities and carried penalties of jail (or worse).
Though the initial messages were quickly whitewashed, more graffiti appeared. Over the next decade anti-communist slogans, murals, and other messages became commonplace despite videocameras and security guards along the wall. The cycle of graffiti and whitewashing continued until the 1989 revolution. Years later the wall is still a pilgrimage site for vandals, though the graffiti runs more to self-help quotes than political dissidence.
These days the wall has lost its subversive edge and is more popular with tourists than anarchists. Church authorities have removed the “original” Lennon tombstone and repaired the wall for easier painting. I’ve also read that church authorities will whitewash over messages they deem to be inappropriate. If true, it’s an unfortunate infringement on the free speech the wall is meant to represent.
I couldn’t resist a shot at making my own mark on the wall, so after borrowing a marker from a backpacker, I hastily scribbled this:
Later, I realized that I had committed the worst kind of rookie mistake–coming to a graffiti wall unprepared. After some thought, and a desperate search for thick markers, I came to the wall with the next best thing: a blog logo and sidewalk chalk procured at the nearest convenient store.
It’s not exactly a political slogan, but it will have to do.
Prague visitors can visit/contribute to the wall at Velkopřevorské náměstí (Grand Priory Square), Malá Strana/Lesser Town, just off a footbridge by Kampa Park.
Saturday Morning Cartoons
Okay, so it’s not exactly a cartoon, but I liked this collage that “Limbic” posted of Belgrade’s street art/graffiti.
Visitors and friends often ask if graffiti is a “thing’ in Belgrade, and I suppose it is. Aside from New York in the 1980s, I don’t recall living in or visiting a place that had so much scrawl on the walls. A lot of it is juvenile or uninventive tagging, but there’s enough political commentary and random stencils to keep it interesting. Like this one by Kalemegdan. Isn’t this Hercule Poirot? Why on earth did someone take the time and risk for this?
Perhaps that’s the whole point of graffiti in general: to get someone to stop, look at a wall they’d never notice otherwise, and ask questions. If that’s true, it’s better than any Saturday morning cartoon I can think of.
Artistic license from New York to Novi Sad
Oh, Novi Sad. Critiquing street graffiti AND citing one of my favorite artists? I heart you.
Basquiat was a NYC graffiti artist who eventually broke into the high art world, becoming friends with Andy Warhol and briefly dating a little-known musician named Madonna. His art continued to be influenced by graffiti until his fatal overdose at the age of 28.
It seems that someone in Novi Sad saw a little too much similarity between the work on this wall and the work of Basquiat. It seems more like inspiration than copying to me,
but it does remind me of Picasso’s quote that “good artists copy, great artists steal.” Here’s hoping for (more) great art–and artists–stemming from the lowly spray can.
Flashback Friday: Bucharest’s old-school graffiti
I was pleased (and jealous) to see that Bucharest had a subway system, so I walked to the nearest stop to explore the city. As the train pulled into the station, I saw this:
Now, I know that I should be disappointed that the train was covered in graffiti, but regular readers will know I wasn’t. In fact, I was thrilled. I haven’t seen graffiti like this since I was a kid. And on a subway, no less! It reminded me of my childhood. I practiced those bubble letters for hours, people.
Other trains on the same line (yellow) had similar “artwork.”
The other train lines had newer subway cars without a speck of graffiti. This was nice, but a little boring. I was always eager to catch the next yellow line train to see how the cars were going to be painted. As I waited on the platforms I tried recalling scenes from Breakin‘. Wasn’t Kelly ridiculous? How did Ozone manage to keep that hat on while breakdancing? He was like the black Indiana Jones. Amazing.
Didn’t the graffiti kid die running from the cops and stepping on the third rail? Or was that the movie Beat Street? Maybe this excitement over spray- painted trains is why people say it’s difficult to raise a kid in NYC. But the yellow line made my day. Happy Friday, everyone!
“Prohibition has made nothing but trouble.”
So said Al Capone, whose story and likeness grace a wall in Stari Grad. Of course, prohibition made nothing but money for Al Capone. His suggling, bootleg liquor and prostitution rings made an estimated $62 million by 1929. That kind of money buys a lot of hats.
Today, Belgrade is facing its own version of prohibition. Belgraded.com notes that local government will ban the sale of alcohol from 10pm to 6am. Restaurants, cafes and clubs are exempted.
Ok, so it’s not exactly prohibition. But it does seem excessive. People here (and not just young ‘uns) routinely start their evenings at 9 or 10pm. Why preclude people from buying alcohol then? Of course, restaurants and cafes will still be able to serve alcohol-at a 50% markup. But if you want to pick up some alcohol before that slava you’re going to…good luck.
Many people think that this law will kickstart a black market for late-night liquor, and I agree. Capone said, “I am like any other man. All I do is supply a demand.” Belgrade already has an infrastructure for illegal DVDs, cigarettes, and who knows what else. I’m sure some enterprising people will be happy to expand to Jelen and Ballentines. Though really, what is UP with the love for Ballentines here?
Perhaps Belgrade’s “enterprising class” will be deterred by strict enforcement. (hmmm.) Or maybe they’ll realize that crime doesn’t always pay. The people who died in the St. Valentine’s Day massacre, said to be the work of Mr. Capone, were lured by the idea of buying cheap bootleg liquor. Al Capone was eventually jailed for tax evasion, and his complications from syphilis (NOT the way to go, folks) became so bad that he was released from jail and died in his Palm Beach mansion.
So maybe bootlegging won’t pay. But someone will try to find out.
Sittin’ on the Dock of the Danube in Zemun
We were fortunate to have good weather when my šurnjaja zaova
(sister in law) was in town, so we took her to Zemun. Zemun is technically within Belgrade’s city limits, but its history and location across the Danube has a very different feel than downtown Belgrade.
That’s because the municipality of Zemun spent much of its history as under Austrian-Hungarian rule rather than Ottoman rule. From 1717-1918, Zemun was an important border city, and, if this article is correct, a point for smugglers, spies and rebels passing into Belgrade. The city regained a nefarious reputation in the 1990s, when the Zemun clan of the Serbian mafia rose to power. But not to worry, tourists and RHOB family: the city is a safe and popular destination for foreigners, Beogradjani, and Zemunci alike.
Zemun is also distinctive for its diverse population. By the mid-1700s, Zemun had become a melting pot of religion and ethnicity, and many Germans settled into the area. Here’s a postcard of Zemun that calls Trg Magistarski “Haupt Platz.”
Image source: http://zemun.deviantart.com/
And here’s a more recent photo:
Image source: http://e-zemun.rs
Zemun shared municipal services with Belgrade in the 1930s, but it appears to have been officially incoporated into the White City after WWII. Fortunately, Zemun’s riverside walk, 1700s buildings, and slower pace of life were left relatively untouched.
Only in Zemun. Beogradjani would have driven right over this anchor.
There have been a few new additions, though. I’m pretty sure this isn’t historic graffiti, and the barges ferrying Mercedes along the river look pretty new. There is a lot to see in the heart of Zemun, but we decided to simply take in the sights from a riverside restaurant, sitting on the dock of the Danube, wasting time…
Happy Earth Day!
Here’s eco-consious graffiti by the Branko bridge for earth day.
I’m not sure when this mural went up, but I wonder if it was in 2010. That year, trees along Kralja Aleksander were removed. Officials claimed the trees were blighted, but others believe the decision was hasty, ill-informed, or underhanded. That same year, the Rolling Stones planted four trees behind their stage.
Trees made headlines recently, when cherry tree seeds were distributed at a Thanks to Japan event. Unfortunately, some headlines also mentioned the melee over the free seeds.
I guess Beogradjani are serious about their trees. And why wouldn’t they be? Trees provide shade, produce oxygen and keep soil healthy. Read about the top ten reasons to plant (and keep) trees here.
Is Belgrade graffiti surprising? You Bet Your Life.
Belgrade graffiti features many famous faces, but this one took me by surprise. Groucho Marx? The person who did this was probably born after 1980. Groucho Marx died in 1977. But I must say, Mr. Marx still makes me smile.
Graffiti and Cartoon
Personally, I like the idea of graffiti murals in children’s parks. “Good” graffiti is essentially cartoons for adults-bright, whimsical, and anthropomorphic-so why not share it with the little ones? This mural is in a park by Slavija Square.
Tagging along in Belgrade
On the heels of “The Australian” travel article about Belgrade, the New Zealand Herald published a similar one, titled Serbia: Tagging along to history. It’s a bit of a false lead; the article briefly describes political slogans around town, but not images. To rectify this, I’m posting one of the more predominant political stencils in town.
I’ve seen this stenciled throughout Belgrade. What I like best is that people have started “improving” the images with mustaches, shoes, or pink zombie-looking eyes. Oddly, no one has given him a wig. Or added his beloved tigers to the scene. Yet.
As for the article, it’s a bit lackluster. It’s as though the author was “tagging” along with bored friends while carrying an old Lonely Planet. But I’m glad to see/read about more people visiting Belgrade.
Belgrade’s Banksys
For those of you who don’t read my twitter feed, you may have missed this link to the Economist Blog discussing Belgrade Street art:
http://www.economist.com/node/21014687.
Most of the photos are good, but I couldn’t resist putting up one of my personal favorites that I found in Dorcol. I like to call it “Footless and fancy-free.”
Graffiti removal seems non-existent here, so I hope we can get more murals like this, rather than expressions of love or favorite bands. “Volim te Milica” and “Red Hot Chili Peppers” scrawled on a wall just doesn’t do it for me.
Screcan Bozic, part dva
Mural of St. Sava's Cathedral, one of the largest Orthodox Cathedrals in the World
It’s Serbian Orthodox Christmas today. The Orthodox religion follows the Julian Calendar, not the Gregorian, so we can celebrate another Christmas and two New Years’ Eve celebrations. Do Serbians know how to have a good time, or what?
But two Christmases doesn’t mean two days of gift frenzy. As I understand it, Orthodox Christmas is more religious than retail-ish. Instead, people give gifts on New Years’ Eve or on certain Sundays leading up to Christmas.
On January 13th we’ll celebrate Orthodox/Julian Calendar New Year, or Mali Bozic, when people might give gifts, and will definitely celebrate 2011 all over again. So technically, I haven’t broken any resolutions because the new year hasn’t quite begun. Genius.
What does Orthodox Christmas mean for RHOB? It means that nothing is open and the streets are practically empty. And we get to hear kids and their parents lighting fireworks all night long. We’re not lighting fireworks, but I think we’ll fire up A Christmas Story and see if the local Chinese restaurant is open. Fa ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra ra….
“People say graffiti is ugly, irresponsible and childish… but that’s only if it’s done properly.”
I'll watch your car for you, no problem
Real Housewife of Belgrade 