The Museum of Broken Relationships
Of course, we never ended up going to Croatia. And I forgot all about this intriguing museum until I went to Book Expo this year. There I ended up with not one, but two, books in which the museum is featured.
The first is a book of essays entitled Make It Scream, Make It Burn by Leslie Jamison. I was taking a gander at the table of contents when I spied a chapter called "Museum of Broken Hearts." A bell went off in the back of my brain as I flipped to it.
The first paragraph pulled me right in:
"The Museum of Broken Relationships is a collection of ordinary objects hung on walls, tucked under glass, backlit on pedestals...A toilet paper dispenser. A positive pregnancy stick. A positive drug test. A weathered axe...All donated, each accompanied by a story: In the 14 days of her holiday, every day I axed one piece of her furniture."
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Museum was founded by a couple who had broken up and couldn't figure out how to split up their belongings. Founder Olinka Vistica said, "The feeling of loss...represented the only thing left for us to share."
The first installation appeared in a shipping container outside an art festival in Zagreb. The no-longer-a-couple's proposal was accepted just two weeks before the festival opened, and the pair scrambled to get submissions to fill the space. It turns out it wasn't difficult. Lots of people had stories of heartbreak -- some recent, some distant -- that they wanted to share. From that installation, the Museum was launched.
In preparation of her visit to the Museum, Jamison asked her own friends what they would contribute to the collection. The answers ranged from a single human hair to the sheet music from Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto #3. It didn't take much thought on my part for me to select a possession of my own that I would contribute if the Museum--or Jamison--came knocking at my door.
It's hard to imagine a trip to the Museum wouldn't leave you feeling a bit melancholy, but that wasn't Jamison's experience. Instead, she says, "There was a democratic vibe to the place. Its premise implied that anyone's story was worth telling, and worth listening to. The people who donated objects weren't distinct, in any meaningful sense, from the ones who were observing them." Heartbreak is a human condition.
And then there's The Museum of Lost Love by Gary Barker. In the novel, Goran and Katia, a couple from the U.S., visit the Museum. Goran fled Bosnia with his mother during the Serbian Bosnian War. He was just a kid at the time, and he fell a bit in love with Nikoleta, a girl he met at the transit camp. Imagine their surprise when Goran and Katia come upon a contribution by Nikoleta to the Museum that talks about that fleeting time with Goran in the camp.
The other storyline involves Tyler, a police officer who's an Afghanistan vet. Off-duty, he lives in an apartment complex that serves as a shelter for abused women. He is there to help if trouble rears its ugly head. And, like Goran, Tyler, is confronted with a surprise when his ex drops a four year old son he knew nothing about on his doorstep and takes off.
Their stories spool out from there and, truthfully, I didn't find them totally compelling. But that's okay, because writing is just a sideline for author Gary Barker.
Barker is an international human rights activist of the highest order. In 1997, he founded Promundo, a non-profit organization dedicated to "promoting gender justice and preventing violence by engaging men and boys in partnership with women and girls." Promundo was first established in Brazil and today works with local NGOs in more than 40 countries. And it's not only small organizations operating in distant corners of the world. Promundo counts the United Nations, the World Bank and the World Health Organization among the entities that have joined in their initiatives. Click here to read more about Promundo and its programs.
With that background in mind, I understood more about Barker's male characters in The Museum of Lost Love. Both Goran and Tyler have lived through violence and continue to struggle with its impact on their lives.
And then there's the choice of the cover image for the book.The photograph is from Diana Bejarano's series entitled "My White Dress." The series was inspired by the Brides' March against Violence, an annual event that takes place in New York City for victims of domestic violence. And, yes, some of the participants wear wedding dresses as they march. To see more of Bejarano's powerful photos, click here. And to read about the Brides' March, click here.
Finally, click here to learn more about the Museum -- and its offshoots. There's a permanent affiliate in Los Angeles and shorter term exhibits around the world. I'll be sure to report back if I make my way to one of these heartbreaking venues.