It has always seemed to me, ever since I was a child, that people can be clearly divided into those who grew up in buildings and those who grew up in houses. I also realised that “building-people” could never fully understand “house-people” – and vice versa.
People in houses spent their time in yards, had brick tool sheds without façades, a second (often better) refrigerator in the garage stocked with alcohol in fancy glass bottles, juice, and ice cream. Their yards were often visited by strangers’ cats, sneaking in to steal food from their pets. The people living in buildings, on the other hand, knew the charms of playing in the shade of high concrete blocks. They also knew the ritual of ringing the intercom when the streetlights came on to beg their parents for just 10 more minutes outside in the gathering darkness. They understood what it was like to hear the lives of others echoing around them – sometimes dull and distant, sometimes as if they lived in the very next room.
Buildings are ecosystems, amplifying all the positive and negative aspects of human life. These dynamics are multiplied exponentially by the number of floors, apartments, communal spaces, and pigeons landing on the balconies. Their residents, joined together by chance in these vertical communities, become part of a complex interplay that makes the system (dys)functional. It is this intangible essence of communal living and the unique fabric of neighbourhoods that was the focus of Magic Carpets in Zagreb in 2024, united under the Street Karma project.
At the core of Street Karma was an exploration of specific parts of the city, using artistic tools and events to capture the spirit of a place – the unspoken understanding all residents feel but cannot always articulate. With this in mind, we turned our focus to our immediate surroundings: the two skyscrapers on Čazmanska Street. Skyscrapers 2 and 4, conceived in 1968 by architect Grozdan Knežević, stand as representative examples of modernist residential architecture in Zagreb. Situated in the wider city centre, these towers have always been more than just buildings – they have been homes and gathering places for famous artists, jazz musicians, opera singers, war journalists, academics, and a host of other eccentrics.
In uncovering the depths and dimensions of these skyscrapers, we used their vertical arteries – the elevators connecting the 17 floors of each building – as spaces to collect impressions and stories. These elevators gave voice to the two “sisters” of Čazmanska.
We heard tales of football derbies between the skyscrapers, sleepovers in elevators, first kisses, hangovers, births, and impromptu New Year’s Eve dinners in the corridors. We learned of two boys who projected photos of their parents onto the building across the way after discovering their parents’ divorce. The residents shared stories of elevators murmuring, screeching, screaming. Some said people were screaming; others said laughing. There were accounts of pigeons harassing tenants, tenants hunting pigeons, and even tenants rescuing pigeons. Lost dogs. Found dogs. One burnt kitten in the basement. One resident observed, “I thought how great the apartments look with all these glass surfaces reflecting the Zagreb skyline.”
Amidst this tapestry of moments, Street Karma branched into two parallel yet interconnected directions. One, created in collaboration with Yammat FM radio, delved into the historical, cultural, and personal stories of the skyscrapers. A community radio station was set up in the communal garage between the buildings for a four-day programme in July. The Yammat FM team broadcast a live four-hour show daily, featuring art historians, architects, and residents. Interactive pop-up events brought the community together: a table football tournament by Austrian artist Matthias Krinzinger titled Čazmanska Always Wins (and Loses), based on his earlier work Dinamo Always Wins (and Loses); an installation by Zagreb artist Vitar Drinković called Emoji Scanner; and creative workshops for the youngest residents. The intertwining of music, knowledge, and testimony created a rich narrative – the karma of the street. Months later, a taxi driver shared skyscraper stories he had heard on the radio, and a dentist recounted the broadcast to a patient in his chair.
The other direction led to the production of the lyrical film Giants by Romanian director Alina Manolache, proposed by the META Cultural Foundation. Created in collaboration with artist Sara Renar (a resident of Čazmanska 2), journalist Pavica Knezović Belan, and cinematographer Branimir Boban, the film portrayed the two skyscrapers as twin sisters – “mostly in the neighbourhood, at first glance completely identical” – reflecting on their history and inner lives through the experiences of their residents. Filmed over two weeks, the project captured intimate moments in the apartments, blending gentle, mechanical, and chaotic tones into a contemplative narrative.
While the film centred on the residents, it also told the story of collaboration – of navigating the challenges that arise when someone “other” enters a shared creative space. It explored the different visions collaborators bring, the careful pairing of ideas, and the satisfaction of finding harmony around a creative table. Above all, it was a story of the joy found in sharing everyday life with those whose company we value.
Curatorial text by Marija Kamber