Marina ÄŒabrajec U gradu sv. vida in the city of st. vitus
Izdavač: Facultas, Rijeka Za izdavača: Marina Biti Urednik: Lea Lazzarich Likovna oprema: Vjekoslav Vojo Radoičić Grafička priprema i tisak: Karizma, Omišalj Naklada: 100 primjeraka ISBN: 978-953-56701-0-0 CIP zapis dostupan u računalnom katalogu Sveučilišne knjižnice Rijeka pod brojem 120914024 Cjelovita multimedijalna publikacija Vidove orgulje se sastoji od: 1) četverodijelne autorske serigrafije Voje Radoičića Vidove orgulje; 2) dvojezične knjižne publikacije Marine Čabrajec U Gradu Sv. Vida / In the City of St. Vitus na hrvatskom i engleskom jeziku te s Pogovorom Nataše Šegote Lah; 3) glazbenog CD-a Nek' plamte grafiti i 4) kaširane ukrasne kutije – likovno rješenje Voje Radoičića.
CD: Tekstovi: Marina Čabrajec, Glazba i aranžmani; Aleksandar Valenčić Glazbena urednica: Diana Grgurić Sadržaj i izvoĎači: Prolog Rade Šerbedžija Nek' plamte grafiti Alen Liverić i Grupa 4' 3'' Preni se, svijete Boris Štok Da mi je biti tvoja gitara Boris Štok i Vanessa Mišić Epilog Rade Šerbedžija
Rijeka, svibanj 2011.
Marina ÄŒabrajec
u gradu svetoga vida in the city of st. vitus Bajkovita glazbeno-scenska parafraza legende o Svetome Vidu, zaĹĄtitniku grada Rijeke A miraculous musical tale paraphrasing the legend of St. Vitus, the patron of the City of Rijeka
FLUMEN SANCTI VITI MMXI
Facultas
u gradu svetoga vida Ova će nam glazbena naracija o Vidu – mladiću s gitarom, i o Artemiji – djevojci koja je voljela glazbu, prizvati legendu o riječkome svecu, zaštitniku umjetnika – glumaca, komičara, plesača, ali i ljudi oboljelih čula i oboljele duše – slijepaca, epileptičara, žrtava udara munje i groma, i svih drugih nesretnika. Iako naš junak ne stradava smrću u vrelome ulju poput svojega drevnoga imenjaka, i njegova priča prerasta u legendu.
I.
SCENA
Nek' plamte grafiti ~ Preni se, svijete ~ Svijet ne voli čuda
VIDOVA DRUŽINA: Mi oremo nebo! Mi smo u slici – Mi, marginalci i kreativci, pjevači, svirači, umjetnici… luĎaci, čudaci i svi drugi krivci…. Pred očima bliješte nam ţivi grafiti: poludjele zvijezde – meteoriti…. Nebo se ori, otima se a slike i riječi se pale i gase Mi plutamo nebom! Mi smo u bajci – Mi vilenjaci i čarobnjaci, osamljenici, alternativci… luĎaci, čudaci
i svi drugi krivci…. Mi palimo zvijezde, sve nebo svira! Od vatre grafita svod drhti, vibrira a meteoriti sumanuto jezde…
Zvijezde, zvijezde, posvuda zvijezde….
VID: Ugljene oči zjenice mrene osjećam ćutim da svi ste kraj mene Osjeti putuju valovi kreću kao da umirem al' umrijeti neću Najednom: prolom i biva mi jasnije glazba se otima ječi sve glasnije Sve luĎe, sve sretnije sve srebrenije šarenije, sjajnije sve šizofrenije Uz fanfare bubnjeve udaraljke trube penjem se uvis
uz nebeske stube Ja grlim nebo prepuno krijesa… Preni se, svijete – doţivi čudesa!
VIDOVA DRUŽINA: Što reći za jednog genijalca kad svijet ga smatra za – izvanzemaljca? Svijet ne voli čuda, jer čuda su – luda… U čuda se uzdamo samo mi – krivci Vidova druţina: alternativci – Mi s Vidom pjevamo dok zvijezde gore i pjevaju s nama, i zovu nas gore… u noći praska i vatrometa zamiru, umiru nepravde svijeta….
II.
SCENA
Iza kristalnih rešetaka (duet – I. dio)~ Da mi je biti tvoja gitara (duet – II. dio)~ Artemijo, izbjegni razočaranja ~U čuda se uzdamo samo mi, krivci
ARTEMIJA: Iza kristalnih rešetaka provedoh godine čekanja, mraka, bunila, tuge, tjeskobe straha… Sve, sve sam imala – osim slobode! Iz svilenog svijeta, iz tjeskobne sobe oteh se stezi svojih čuvara – k'o pero laka, na krilima pjesme! Dozva me, Vide – tvoja gitara…
VID: Zar došla si, cvijete, prikupljat patnje? Čega si ţeljna? Zar moje tlapnje? Mnoge su prednosti tvog svilenog svijeta i očinske pratnje – makar ti smeta… Vrati se tamo….
ARTEMIJA: Primi me, Vide! Tu ţelim biti, iz tvojega dlana –
piti slobodu … tu čistu i bistru, najbistriju vodu… Ţeljna sam pjesme, i tvojega ţara, te pjesme što zvjezdane svjetove stvara! Ah, da mi je biti tvoja gitara!
VID: Slasne riječi o dodiru, vodi, o pjesmi što liječi… Uz muku, ipak, odbit te moram –
ARTEMIJA: Razmisli, stani, Primi mi ruku .. Osjeti kako mi treperi tijelo… Dotakni usnama hladno mi čelo, zagrij me, stegni, ţice mi diraj, za mene pjevaj, na meni – sviraj! Osjećam, slutim snagu tvog ţara… Ah, da mi je biti tvoja gitara!
VID: Ti si se otrgla od svojih čuvara, A k meni te dozvala – baš moja gitara… Kako ne uzet gitaru u ruke? …. zaboravit muke i prstima, njeţno, prebirat ţice, milovat' tijelo, ljubit ti lice…. Ja budan sanjam…. Ah, sulude ţelje! ZaluĎena stanja! Artemijo, bjeţi od razočaranja..!
VIDOVA DRUŽINA: Artemijo, izbjegni razočaranja, vrati se kući, okani se sanja... Ne išti čuda, Ne budi luda! U čuda se uzdamo samo mi, krivci Vidova druţina: alternativci – LuĎaci, čudaci, Osobenjaci Ne i princeze….
III.
SCENA
To su hijene i vukodlaci ~ Ne želim se vratit u svilenu sobu ~ Vide, nudim ti život u dvorcu ~ Cvijeće ne niče iz epruveta ~ Pa ti glumiš sveca!
di CLEZIANO: NaĎoh te, kćeri, na čudnome mjestu Iz svilenog svijeta pobjegla si – odabrala cestu Tu, oko tebe sve neki luĎaci – prosjaci, čudaci i lutalice! To nije društvo dostojno princeze. To su hijene i vukodlaci!
ARTEMIJA: Ne ţelim se vratit u svilenu sobu, u svijet samoće i laţnoga sjaja… Ţeljna sam dodira susreta, glazbe, ljudske topline i zagrljaja… Zar ne znaš, oče, da bijah u grobu? Ovdje sam – ţiva…!
di CLEZIANO: Na ovom te mjestu ostavit ne mogu. Artemijo, neću! No sve, sve bih dao za tvoju sreću… Zato tvom Vidu, tom tvom čudotvorcu, upućujem poziv: Vide, nudim ti ţivot u dvorcu! Dobit ćeš nova odijela, kravate poslovnu karticu i svog šofera aktovku, laptop ured od stakla – sve privilegije menadţera ProĎi kroz vrata uspješnoga svijeta – primam te, Vide, za svojega zeta! Artemija moja neka procvjeta!
VID: ZaluĎeni čovječe, shvati zašto Artemija pati! Ţeliš joj sreću, ţeliš da cvjeta…. Pa cvijeće ne niče iz epruveta! Odijelo, kravata ured od stakla: ţivot nam nudiš gori od pakla! Artemiju ljubim,
al' prezirem silu Ne ţelim šofera, ni ured, ni vilu… Ne ţelim ulogu tamničara – tvoja mi ponuda ne odgovara!
VID (uz podršku svoje družine) : ZaluĎeni čovječe, pokušaj shvatiti da sreću ne moţeš novcem platiti!
di CLEZIANO: Zar tako, bijedni stvore? Odjednom glumiš sveca? Zar pao si s Marsa Il' moţda s Mjeseca? Odbijaš moj dar jer ţeliš još i veći i još propovijedaš o nekakvoj – sreći? Kad udare pendreci, kada stegnu okovi milost ćete traţiti, ti i tvoji lopovi – Ne, ne! Ne postoje sveci! Barem ne u Rijeci! Pendreci, pendreci, amo pendreci!!!
IV.
SCENA
(Još jedna) nevera s Kvarnera ~ Čarolija trena ~ Tri završetka i epilog ~ Svi pobornici rušenja zida
(GLASOVI RAZNI) … i htjedoše Vida privesti, mučki di Clezianovi opasni dečki… … kad u tom se času oglasi nevera! Od groma, di Cleziano zaljulja se – u čudo prirode zapanjen gleda .. u more što kipti, razlijeva se! Di Cleziano crven od muke viče nek' Vidu pritegnu ruke! Al' jugo sve glasnije, sve bučnije bjesni…
***
Di Cleziano – gnjevan, sve gnjevniji – nareĎuje momcima da budu revniji! Momci ga ne čuju, jer s vjetrom se bore; pod pritiskom stenju – šiba ih more. Jedan uz drugog stisnuli se da ih ne proguta pijavica Pod bljeskom munje, k'o usred dana,
vide se njihova panična lica Jadnici, cvile, za milost mole!
*** a nebo se kida i s morem spaja – nevera s Kvarnera tutnji put beskraja raspukle grane iskidane strijele vitlaju,lete kao da prijete kovitlac munja, vjetra i granja: od crnog ka crnjem nižu se stanja
***
Najednom,tajac… Čarolija trena! Oluja – k'o rukom je odnesena! …a srebrni komet, u čudesnom luku, iscrtava nebo Svjetluca, bljeska, Sve je bliţe… Sve oči su uprte u komet što stiţe!
More se ljeska…
****
Mjesec iznova pokazuje lice. Vid gleda Artemiju netremice. Artemija prilazi, privija se.
***
I priča tu prestaje. Kraj joj se ne zna….
***
Po jednima: njih dvoje se pridruţi valu otploviše nekud, na novu obalu… Po drugima: izgore sa sjajem kometa i iskreći nestanu s ovoga svijeta Po trećima: dotaknuvši posrebrenu vodu uvis se vinu u svemirskom brodu
*** Di Cleziana su pronašli mokrog, u mulju (mrmljao je nešto o vrelome ulju) Ni traga ni glasa od opasnih momaka … Razbjeţaše se pod zaštitom mraka A Vidova druţina i dalje – tu je! I dalje pjeva, i dalje snuje uz gitare, udaraljke, bubnjeve, trube….
***
Svi kreativci i osobenjaci, svi umjetnici i slobodnjaci svi čarobnjaci i alternativci svi sveci, čudaci i svi drugi krivci – svi pobornici rušenja zida – ţivi su, dišu! I dalje sviraju i dalje stvaraju stihove pišu! sanjaju, pjevaju maštaju, slave svi pobornici rušenja zida – žive u gradu Svetoga Vida!
in the city of st. vitus This musical narrative about Vitus – a young guitar-player – and Artemia, a girl who loved music, is going to recall the legend about the patron saint of Rijeka, the guardian of artists – actors, comedians, dancers, but also those of wounded senses and souls – the blind, the epileptic, victims of thunder and lightning... and all other sufferers... Although our hero’s destiny will not be to die in a pot of boiling oil like St. Vitus, his story, too, has the charm of a legend.
SCENE I Graffiti, transformed into shadow and light ~ Come on, my friends ~ We prefer our madness VITUS’ PARTY: The stars invite us to heavenly parties... We may be mad or perhaps we are artists; Singers, musicians, fighters and martyrs – Strange creatures, untamed, Who can always be shamed. The sky is our canvas, our heavenly screen... We fill it with brightness, we paint the unseen We dance with the stars and we glow in the night Graffiti – transformed into shadow and light We travel the skies – we live in a song... ... In a world of magicians, fairies and gnomes – In a see-through structure which we call our home, Made of starlight and lace –
In a place without walls We light up the skies and we sing aloud We’re the sparkling graffiti; we’re the shimmering clouds – The silvery echo Can never expire .... The stars are ablaze, the skies are on fire.....
VITUS:
No eyes. No vision, No shape. Just essence. The darkness is thick And burdened with presence Anxiety. Tension... I await Intervention: I’m hurled all around In a chamber of sound. Voices... Sensations... Reverberation... First I wane then I thrive; I’m both dead and alive... I marvel, In awe. I submit; I don’t fight... At the gateway of sight – I discover... delight... Then comes The music
And a sea of emotion! I am gliding, I’m circling; No body – sheer motion... I'm embracing the stars in their flaming glory... Come on, my friends – Relive my story!
VITUS’ PARTY: We live at the edge We’re a strange population They call us aliens Well, that’s segregation... We think it is awful That wonders are – unlawful! We admit we’re guilty Of living in a song Since miracles are banned, They’re right and we are wrong But still, we carry on... We connect, we bond We sing! We play! We share... We smoulder and we flare... We challenge Injustice; We defy Unfairness..... Perhaps we are crazy... .. .But we prefer our madness...
SCENE II. A crystal prison (duet – part I. )~ Let me be your guitar (duet – part II. )~ My dream’s a disgrace ~ Miracles to martyrs
ARTEMIA: A crystal prison... A fairy-tale world. Lustrous and silky. Yet scary. Remote. I lived there In sadness, Anguish And fear.... I was a princess, but I wasn’t free! I escaped from my prison, I shook off the gloom... I ran away From my silky-smooth room I was summoned by music – I followed my star! Sing for me, Vitus ! Play your guitar....
VITUS: I live in a ghetto, in a frightening world... Some say I have courage, But I’m not all that bold... Why reject the comforts Of your silky-smooth room And your father’s protection? You’ll miss all that soon!
Return to your castle.... ARTEMIA: I don’t mean to defy; I just don’t want to die... In my crystal tower, The living was sour.... ... So I made a decision To follow my vision... Don’t shut your door! Just leave it ajar.... Say ‘yes’! Let me stay! Let me be your guitar!
VITUS: Let me ponder on this.... Like you, I am dreaming... To have you beside me excites me and tempts me... But I said the truth. I warned you.... Please stop me!
ARTEMIA: I do not want to stop you, I’m needy of touch... Feel my pulse, My emotions soaring! Your music’s inside me; A locked-in desire!
To generate melody, Just reach for the wire! Release the notes, Play me, embrace me... I’ll be your instrument and you’ll be my star.... Sing for me, Vitus! Let me be your guitar....
VITUS: You escaped from the bars You fooled all your guards And came to a universe Of notes and guitars How could I resist the charm of my guitar? I want to caress it, gently embrace it And play with the strings... ... And stroke its body, And kiss... your face.... I’m awake, yet I dream... But my dream’s a disgrace! I’m crazy, it seems! Artemia, run! Save yourself from frustration!
VITUS' PARTY: Artemia, You’re in for dire aggravation! Beware of the dangers of imagination! Don’t squander your life pursuing wonders!
Forget about miracles; leave them to martyrs! You don’t need to suffer the brutal injustice: This exile is meant for outlawed artists... You are a princess!
SCENE III. What's so divine about this gutter? ~ I'll stay forever in this dreamland of sounds ~ Give in to luxuries ~ You really don't understand ~ You pretend to be saintly!
di CLEZIANO: A strange place this is For a daughter of mine... Tell me, Artemia, What’s so divine about this gutter? You had it all in our elegant mansion! You were protected, not held in detention! You don’t belong here. You need to come back! My beautiful daughter, think of your rank!
ARTEMIJA: I'll stay forever in this dreamland of sounds.... Don’t ask me to leave! I would wither and grieve.... I came here to be free To enjoy to be me – To give and to share; To love and to care! I never felt part Of your so-called elite! I just wanted to breathe!
di CLEZIANO: Staying here forever??? What a wild suggestion! That's out of the question! But to make you happy, I'll find a solution…. So let me lay out A magnificent plan Which no-one could resist: I’ll make your Vitus a very rich man! Let go, and enjoy the fate’s lucky twist! Give in to luxuries, have a whole new life – He, as your husband And you, as his wife! Buy a new house, A shiny new car, And – since it matters – A brand new guitar! The doors will fly open for my son in law! Music is business – our assets will grow! I'll make Vitus a star! And my daughter will thrive!
VITUS: You call that a plan? You crazy man! You really don’t understand! Her life and my life – that’s not a mere show! Your money can’t buy us a true inner glow!
You want us as puppets Hanging on strings: You do not see us As real human beings! The only true stars Are those in the skies... The notion to be one Is foolish, unwise.... I love Artemia, But love must be free. Love is like music: Let it live, let it be...
VITUS AND HIS PARTY: You call that a plan? You crazy man! You really don’t understand!
di CLEZIANO: You miserable creature! You pretend to be saintly! Did you hear what I said? What is wrong with your head? I can see through your intent To use my daughter's discontent To obtain – a larger gain…. It will all be in vain! You're in for a surprise! I will call in my guys To give you a free lesson: A few bruises, a few cries…
Your city may be dainty, but it's hardly saintly! Come over, lads, make him plead for mercy!
SCENE IV. A storm in the Bay of Kvarner ~ A magic moment ~ Three endings and an epilogue ~ The walls are collapsing
(VOICES) The lads came over to act upon order But they weren’t ready to confront a border… All of a sudden A storm blocks their way! Under the thunder, Di Cleziano stumbles; He tries to yell out, he howls and rumbles Observing the skies In total dismay! Get to him! Hit him! – He yells through the wind – Struggling to be heard, To break through the shield But the storm is increasing, It’s waging a war…
*** Come on, you cowards! – He yells at his guards. Do as I say! – He shrieks, threatens, cries. But the lads can’t hear him; They fight with the wind, They are scourged by the weather And blocked by the sea The waves are rising, flooding the shore. Lads are losing strength, they can take no more When the lightning strikes, it lights up each face
Panicking, begging… to their master’s disgrace! They are pleading for mercy, Yet, to no avail... *** The sky rages on – It blends with the sea: The Bay of Kvarner Is as dark as can be.... Broken branches Torn off the trees Fly through the air And seem all too near! A current of waves, Arrows and thunder.... The bay is fuming, the nature raves....
*** Then, out of the blue – the storm departs…. A moment of magic: Starry drops, everywhere! Blissfully peaceful... A silvery comet Soars to announce The end to the torment.... It excels and it shines: Will it descend? This celestial journey – Where does it end?
In the shimmering sea?
****
Once again, The night is clear, almost bright: Vitus and Artemia are showered by light! She leans against him. And Vitus smiles….
*** The rest of the story Remains unconfirmed ----
***
Endings are many: Some claim to have seen a silvery wave – It embraced the two youngsters, and they floated away…. Others maintain: Artemia and Vitus were drawn in by the light; They live on, and they shine amongst comets and stars… There are those who are certain: A spaceship descended, lighter than lace And it disappeared with the lovers into outer space….
***
Di Cleziano was found, wet, in muddy soil
(Mumbling something about boiling oil) The rough lads disappeared, leaving no trace - unlikely to return Having lost their face Vitus' party, however, still meets Under that very same moon: They sing and they dream, they play their guitars, They sometimes use drums, Clarinets, bassoons….
***
All the creative People, called artists – Be they rockers, Jazzers or swingers, Be they painters, Comedians, dancers Hip-hoppers, rappers, Opera singers – Demand their freedom! (Some say they’re crazy; others call them righteous) They may not be faultless, But their art makes them virtuous! They light up the sky! Hear their call To break through the wall, To be free, and to fly! Hear them sing! Feel alive! All the chains dissolve,
When their song fills the city: The walls are collapsing In Flumen Sancti Viti!
Sveti Vid. Vid, sin rimskoga plemića Hilabija, roĎen je na Siciliji. Zbog smrti je svoje majke odrastao u kući skromnih kršćana, Kresencije i Modesta, prigrlivši kršćanstvo te odbivši sve privilegije svojega društvenog ranga, pa i ruku Dioklecijanove kćeri Artemije, koju je izliječio od duševne boljke. U mlaĎahnoj je dobi od svega sedamnaest godina dočekao smrt u kotlu vrele smole po naredbi cara Dioklecijana, ostavivši iza sebe trag brojnih čudesnih izlječenja. Sveti Vid, zaštitnik glumaca, komičara, plesača i epileptičara, štiti sve svoje poklonike od udara munje i groma, ali i od ţivotinjskih napada i prekomjernog spavanja. Legenda o Vidu povezuje Rijeku s Europom, s obzirom na to da je ovaj svetac čuven kao zaštitnik grada na Rječini, ali i mnogih drugih europskih gradova, od Praga u Češkoj, preko brojnih talijanskih lokacija pa sve do Wischotena u Nizozemskoj i St. Vitha u Belgiji.
Saint Vitus. Vitus, son of a Roman nobleman, Hilas, was born in Sicily. His mother died at childbirth, so he was raised by a couple of modest Christians, Crescentia and Modestus. He adopted Christian values and renounced all privileges of his noble rank, even the hand of Diocletian's daughter Artemia after he cured her from a sickness of soul. He was only seventeen when Emperor Diocletian condemned him to die in a pot of boiling oil, and he left behind a trail of numerous miraculous cures. Known as the guardian of actors, comedians, dancers and epileptics, he also protects his followers from The dangers caused by thunder and lightning, animal attacks and oversleeping. The legend of St. Vitus connects the City of Rijeka with Europe, seeing that this saint is also known as the patron of numerous other cities such as Prague in Bohemia, across numerous locations in Italy towards the north of Europe, such as Wischoten in the Netherlands and St. Vith in Belgium.
The stars invite us to heavenly parties… Or: how to see Vitus in the 21st century?
Let's begin with an overview: Images were initially exposed to visual observation, and watching was an experience of sight and mind. Later on, they became events, and watching was transformed into bodily experience. Finally, we are at a stage in which images have gone virtual and watching takes place beyond sight itself. The patron of all the 'creatures untamed' rejects social privileges and becomes a symbol of rebellion and search. The spatial frame is beyond the concept of traditional captivity, a form of life in wilderness, free of social hierarchies and uncommitted to the dictate of cogito. The wall comes down, announcing the reversal of order. Before the remnants of such a virtual wall (legend, myth, fairy-tale) an image appears in the sky to be reflected in the culture of laughter. The result is a miraculous musical tale paraphrasing the legend of St. Vitus. It bonds the old meanings with the new interpretations, transgressing the boundary between words, music and images. The temptation to read images by the use of images themselves has a long history. The space of eikon thus becomes an endless one. The new interpretation of St. Vitus takes place in an urban setting, yet moves to the sky above where the graffiti are inscribed. Actors, singers, painters, madmen, rebels and artists… they all belong to that same reflection. The patronship of Vitus is therefore read visually, the text itself becoming a picture as well. Music, play, dancing and language are being made part of the Vitus' party which steps on the stage as a phenomenon best described as synaesthesia, yet beyond traditional definitions of the term. This hyper-iconological event is also a subversion of oblivion, i.e. a new domain of experience, one that has opened up with the 21st century. It takes readiness to step in, since conventional rules do not help much when we find ourselves in a see-through structure which we call our home…
Nataša Šegota Lah