With their mock-up of prefabricated tower blocks currently on display at a Bulgarian gallery, two twentysomething artists are inviting the Bulgarian public to "come home" and reflect on their country's socialist past and democratic future. Titled Slavic Tales, the exhibit by Anna Ivanova and Kalina Ivanova -- who share a last name but are not related -- is being shown at the Toplotsentrala Regional Center for Contemporary Art in Sofia until May 17.
Sausage, brandy, and dark bread wait on the coffee table. In the kitchen, there are slices of pickles and cheese. A round box is filled with sewing materials instead of biscuits, and a pack of chocolate cigars serves as a pencil holder on the children's desk. Slippers are piled up in the hallway, a TV sits quietly, and crystal glasses are carefully tucked away in the sectional, waiting for a special occasion.
Many people in Bulgaria would probably recognize their own homes in this description, which is the goal of the artists behind the Slavic Tales project. The name alludes to popular social media pages that make fun of the Slavic way of life. However, in this instance, the intention is to offer a romanticized view and raise questions about Bulgarian identity.
Anna and Kalina make models of the communist-era prefabricated tower blocks and apartments in it, recreating even the smallest details of Bulgarian everyday life.
During communism, prefabricated tower blocks were considered the height of architectural and technological progress. Nearly identical two- and three-bedroom apartments included amenities like central heating, private bathrooms, and elevators. The prefabricated buildings were mass produced throughout the Soviet Union and Eastern Bloc.
While there are obvious signs of socialism around the miniature home, many of the objects document the change and the introduction of Western culture to Bulgaria. The two artists aim to encourage people to consider how the recent past has affected their lives today.
Missing Graffiti
Anna and Kalina, who both grew up in Bulgaria, met and became friends while attending college in the small English town of Falmouth. They shared a fascination with the legacy of socialism and a longing for their homeland.
In their walks among Falmouth's strictly uniform neighborhoods, the two friends began to feel the absence of the Bulgarian tower blocks that would often have colorful laundry waving over the terraces and the small human footprints that enliven the space.
"I missed seeing how some seventh-grader with graffiti expressed his love for some Maria on the facade of her block," Kalina tells RFE/RL. "I never thought I would miss something like that, but in England I realized how much it meant to me."
"We found a big difference in how we felt about Bulgaria after we left it," Anna adds.
This prompted the two women to ask themselves why Bulgarians have a negative attitude toward their own culture, and what that means. As they describe it, where does "this desire to go somewhere better, to look for what is not Bulgaria" come from?
According to Anna and Kalina, the answers are rooted in the recent past, especially in the lives of people born after the democratic changes that took place in the 1990s and 2000s.
"We were raised by parents who grew up in socialism," says Anna. Kalina adds that many of them have never answered the most important questions related to trauma and memory.
"That's why with the project Slavic Tales, we want to say to people: 'Let's talk about the transition. What's going on there? Are we still in it?'" says Kalina.
"We want to give a more concrete vision that a person can look at and say, 'Yeah, this is the way I grew up. I know this tower block, and I know this apartment. This is my Bulgaria," says Anna.
Tower Block 1989
At the University of Falmouth, Anna and Kalina both studied drawing and illustration, so it was natural for them to look at these topics from an artistic point of view.
Both worked on theses related to the recent past and the architectural appearance of Eastern Europe. They also sought to incorporate their own memories as "children of the transition" from socialism to capitalism, and ultimately decided to make a model of a tower block as a university project.
In addition to creating a detailed replica of a typical panel block, Anna and Kalina brought it to life with fictional characters. One family lives in each of the 10 apartments, and each has its own story.
"We are from different cities, but when we were coming up with the characters we came to the conclusion that people everywhere are the same," says Kalina. "Through these characters, it is much easier to have conversations and imagine scenarios. What would Kolyo take out on his terrace? What would Svetla buy from the store?"
These tales are woven into the layout of each terrace by Anna and Kalina. For instance, the Bulgarian flag draped over the railing reveals the political patriotism of the taxi driver Botyo, who enjoys cognac on his balcony.
"I think that many of our neighbors would also recognize themselves in this block, even though it represents Bulgarian reality," says Kalina. "Whether you're from Serbia, Romania, or North Macedonia, you'll recognize yourself as we recognize each other. Only art can do that."
Who Lives In Apartment 2007?
The exterior of one tower block was not enough for the two artists. Soon they started to construct a second model, this time of one of the apartments in the block.
"We needed more space for the expression of our culture; we wanted to delve deeper and go into the history of the period and our characters," says Anna, adding that a home is "the most unfiltered image of a person."
The women's perception of 2007 as the culmination of the change brought on by Bulgaria's EU membership inspired the name of the flat. They drew design inspiration from their grandmothers' apartments for the interior.
Through objects that fill the apartment, socialism and democracy collide. Traces of the past intertwine with modern artifacts from the West: a new three-panel painting - or triptych - from Paris ends up above the old piano, and a poster of the rock group Paramore adorns the socialist wardrobe.
A new triptych from Paris ends up above the old piano (center).
"With this mixing of timelines and spaces, we want to emphasize the fact that the past is a big part of us and is the foundation on which we work and develop," says Anna.
According to Anna and Kalina, there is a conflict in the lives of people of this generation.
"You live in a world that has nothing to do with the world that you are shown as beautiful, important, and cultured," says Anna. "There is culture in the West, but ours is just Bulgarianness."
According to her, this explains the feeling of inadequacy among people in Bulgaria: "This is a trauma that must be put under the microscope and thought of critically so that we do not fall into dissonance."
A similar traumatic legacy is seen in the other two characters in the apartment: Anne-Marie's parents, who represent two archetypal reactions to the transition from socialism to democracy. While the mother, Tanya, is disappointed with life in Bulgaria and uses it as an excuse for her unhappiness, the father, Kolyo, "represents this traditional Bulgarian that is resistant to any political regimes."
'This Is The Real Bulgaria'
In their exhibition at the Toplotsentrala Regional Centre for Contemporary Art the Bulgarian public is invited to "come home."
"The human footprint that remains in the terraces and apartments makes you feel at home," says Anna.
In addition to providing solace, the artists seek to raise important questions related to people's experience of the recent past and the traumas buried within it. What took place during socialism? Is the changeover complete? What have Bulgarians discovered as a result of all these processes?
To build their concepts, Anna and Kalina also refer to academic research on these issues. They were most impressed by the ideas of the culturologist Alexander Kyosev about the "self-colonization" of Bulgaria, as well as the work Balkans, Balkanism by Maria Todorova.
"These theories explain why we are presented on the world stage the way we are," says Anna. "In most cases, we are mentioned as something bad in the outside world. And we consume its media and start to perceive ourselves in the same way."
In order to change their attitudes, society needs to be informed, the artists maintain.
"We should be able to collect sources from different places, think critically, and ask questions," Kalina says, adding that it is normal for people to dislike parts of modern Bulgarian culture. "It's just that for years we've been used to focusing only on the negative sides, and so we forget about the good. We don't want to invite this into our home."
"And this is the important thing: This is the real Bulgaria," says Anna. "Those things we can smile about and say, 'We all know that.'"