When writing and taking photos I often think about how every portrayal is subjective and filtered by personal experience, and how pointless it is to take recommendations from others. The chaos that is Belgrade makes me feel this ever so strongly, while I’m taking in its many facets and moods. We enter it from Zemun, rather attractive with its old, crumbling apartment houses. Then we proceed to New Belgrade, which is a tad ugly, a more expansive version of Warsaw’s Ursynów — another bleak district of blocks of flats. The next afternoon, in a rainy aura, we making our way through the downtown and when crossing the bridge over Sava, on our right a hypnotizing sight unfolds: shrouded in grey, miles-long, with protruding high-rises, a communist-era Zion from The Matrix. A few days later we’re back to ‘sight-see’: we meander the central districts gazing at their retro elegance and walk up and down steep streets that bring to mind images of San Francisco. There are renovated monasteries and a fortress, and all this is surrounded by and intermingles with the ordinary gray patchwork of a city speckled with gaudy advertisements. A thought keeps bouncing round my head — to finally go through with the idea of counterposing two contrasting perspectives of the same place. I’m intent on this while wandering about and shooting pictures. Yet while preparing the post I quickly realize my personal filter had won out. My Belgrade is retro, and that’s how I’m going to show it.
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