Contemporary Croatian Theatre: An Urgency Without Illusion

Being in Zagreb — a beautiful city layered with history and carrying a specific, almost quiet cultural intensity — was already a frame for what followed. It is a city that does not impose itself, but rather invites attention. And perhaps the showcase echoed exactly that: a theatre that insists on presence.

The Croatian Theatre Showcase, organised by the ITI Croatian Centre, presented a selection of works that are not afraid of discomfort. What connects them is not style, but urgency — a need to speak, even when language seems insufficient.

On the first day, there were two performances scheduled at the same time, and inevitably, a choice had to be made between MY BRILLIANT FRIEND (Croatian National Theatre) and SON, MOTHER AND FATHER SIT AT THE TABLE IN SILENCE (Zagreb Youth Theatre). That impossibility of seeing everything already creates a kind of anticipation — a desire to return and to see as much as possible.

We chose SON, MOTHER AND FATHER SIT AT THE TABLE IN SILENCE by Ivor Martinić, directed by Aleksandar Švabić, which examines intimate family relationships with both complexity and darkly comic tension. Set against the backdrop of an imagined ecological or nuclear catastrophe, the play follows a family with three children and poses a brutal ethical question: in a situation of limited survival space, which of their children would the parents choose to save? In doing so, it exposes the erosion of traditional family values and turns the domestic unit into a site of moral collapse, where silence becomes more powerful than language. And perhaps the central question remains: what can we even say when truth is placed on the table? Faced with the external threat of catastrophe and the necessity to choose, the real catastrophe ultimately unfolds within the family itself. The scenography further intensifies this feeling — an intimate domestic kitchen, once meant to gather a family, now weighed down by its own emptiness, in which they never once actually come together. What remains is only the memory of that possibility.

MATIJA (Arterarij), based on the novel by Drago Hedl, adapted and directed by Patrik Lazić, a deeply intimate work dealing with suicide and parental responsibility. The performance investigates guilt — the question of whether the parents could have prevented the catastrophe, and the constant return backwards in time, as if to confirm that there is nothing they could have done. Its scenography operates as a spatialised memory: at first glance it resembles a children’s playground, yet at the same time evokes the symbolic dust of cremation. Boxes filled with memories construct a fragile archive of a life interrupted. The acting is deeply intimate, precise, and stripped of excess, drawing the spectator into a position of quiet complicity — as if we are witnessing, or even co-creating, the memory of the child.

One of my personal highlights was ACID / KISELINA by Tena Štivičić, directed by Antanas Obcarskas (Zagreb Youth Theatre co-production with the Lithuanian National Drama Theatre from Vilnius) — a work of exceptional directorial clarity and outstanding acting precision. The dramaturgy is sharp and sustained until the very end, maintaining tension without losing subtlety. Its minimalist scenography and carefully composed musical environment never overwhelm the performance but rather serve it. Set within the space of artistic production itself, the play cuts into both private and public spheres and exposes power relations within artistic collectives, addressing issues that remain insufficiently discussed in contemporary theatre practice, yet are painfully present in broader social reality. Perhaps this theme feels particularly close to me, given the forms of “violence” I have personally encountered from people close to positions of power over the past year, particularly as a woman director and manager (a small digression and a reminder that nobody is alone in this).

KAMOV, EARTHQUAKE (based on texts by Janko Polić Kamov, conceived and directed by Dario Harjaček, De facto theatre company & &TD Theatre) is a complex, philosophical concert-performance exploring the coexistence of life and death, destruction and creation, sleep and wakefulness, intoxication and sobriety. It expands into a more sensory, almost ritualistic territory. It does not offer a narrative in a conventional sense, but rather a state — oscillating between creation and destruction, consciousness and intoxication. The performance does not attempt to explain anything. It reacts. It vibrates. It resists closure.

THE SAFE HOUSE by Anica Tomić and Jelena Kovačić (Gavella Drama Theatre) addresses domestic violence, but what is perhaps more unsettling is its focus on institutional failure. Violence here is not an exception — it is a structure that is maintained through distrust, bureaucracy, and silence. The performance exposes how systems that are meant to protect often reproduce the conditions of harm. It is difficult to watch not because of what it shows, but because of what it confirms.

Due to unforeseen commitments, I missed BURIED WONDERS and had to return to Sofia. However, I had previously seen THIS IS MY TRUTH, TELL ME YOURS by Jasna Žmak at the Sarajevo showcase (you can read my article about it here), and I am pleased to note that it is now included in the programme of our Festival of Authorial Theatre in Sofia, which will be held for the 7th time at the end of November this year. Still, as I have already mentioned, my curiosity about the Croatian theatre scene has only just begun to grow, and I will definitely return.

What remains after the showcase is not a single aesthetic impression, but a constellation of approaches. There is a strong presence of socially and politically engaged theatre, but without a single dominant form. Instead, there is a plurality of languages — intimate, conceptual, musical, and an aesthetic of documentary sensitivity.

Perhaps most importantly, there is a visible and consistent presence of domestic authors — playwrights and literary voices that are not only included, but central. This suggests not just a curatorial choice, but a long-term cultural strategy: one that invests in local voices, trusts them, and allows them to shape the discourse. This is further evidenced by initiatives such as the book promotion Contemporary Croatian Drama in Slovakian / Contemporary Slovak Drama in Croatian, a reciprocal publishing collaboration between the two countries, presenting contemporary plays translated and exchanged between languages. In that sense, the showcase does not only present theatre — it reveals a system that sustains it.