There are encounters that stage your life at a brand new, previously unknown direction. So it was in 1986 when I was faced with all the images of Zoran Music in the Museo Correr in Venice: for the first time I saw the terrible visions of the string"Non siamo gli ultimi", the painted mountains of corpses, where the artist at one mourning work of this dead concentration camp comrades in the Dachau concentration camp.
As a young person he was deported there, arrested in Venice, and afterwards interning at the Trieste immersion camp Risiera di San Saba, suddenly pulled from a promising artistic career. This was a matter of fate that Music fell into the hands of his pursuers directly in the front of the portal of Palazzo Balbi-Valier, where he would live much after with his congenial wife Ida Barbarigo.
In Venice he married Ida Cadorin, heiress to some legendary dynasty of painters who would call himself"Barbarigo", Paris became his next home alongside Venice, the karst and Dalmatian scene reminded him of the Mediterranean beliefs of his childhood. Anybody who slows down the karst through Trieste now , off the highway, can still meet themthe semi-wild horses galloping on the dry ground, the"Cavallini". They run through the region like a mosaic of white stone splinters, looking at Zoran Music using a sort of thoughtful humor and painting them in their joyful lack of background.
Too often, of course, the picture changes before his eyes. Subsequently the white rubble reminds him of the white skulls of the deceased from Dachau and the horses remind him of an abysmal sense of freedom, a freedom he knows is constantly threatened. Since what happened once will need to be repeated again and again.
There's no optimism in music for history, the experience remains irrefutable. I've had closer contact with Zoran Music since 1988. I remember the many hours we spent in his Parisian studio along with fabulous home in Venice, the tales from his biography which summed up the Central European tragedies of the 20th century. Inside his domain he always pretended to be autonomous, self-critically he occasionally rejected impressive sheets and sketches, you needed to persuade him not to ruin anything.
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Zoran Music.