by Nadia Gerazouni//
Museum of Broken Relationships >> Zagreb, Croatia
Remember the box you hide under your bed or at the back of the closet with all those mementos from your past relationships? A ticket from the concert where you met him, the receipt of your first dinner, the t-shirt he gave you to sleep in when you first stayed over at his apartment, his business card with his number scribbled on… the list is endless and can potentially include anything from the most disgusting filthy thing to the most expensive diamond ring.
This is what the Museum of Broken Relationships brings together, a collection of love stories, of failed love stories. Of course every story has its symbol, which is no other than these mementos which might mean nothing to us, but to its owners they meant the world. At least for the duration of the affair. And do we have news for you. You can make your own contribution to the museum by emailing them an image of the object along with a short description of what it symbolizes. What a better way to get over a break-up. And here dear reader may I ask you to consider what your ex lovers could have contributed to your (dis)honour. And a small advice: next time you dumb someone think twice for any evidence you might have left behind…
The Tristan Bates Theater in London’s Covent Garden presents The museum of Broken Relationships from August 15th – September 4th 2011.
Have a glimpse at our favorite exhibits at the museum:
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- A honey bunny. 1999-2003. Zagreb, Croatia. The bunny was supposed to travel the world but never got farther than Iran. This is not photoshoping, but a real photo of this bunny in a desert near Tehran.
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- A stuffed lobster. 3 years and 3 months. Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzergovina. He was Chinese. He was beautiful. We met as students in America. One summer, while I was in Sarajevo and he was in Singapore, he sent me a stuffed lobster. He was thinking of me. How are lobsters and love connected? Nevertheless, I shared the bed with it. The lobster, I mean. And later with the man who gave it to me.
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- Fake Breasts. 3 years. Belgrade, Serbia. So, after three years together, my husband brought fake, sculpted female breasts which were, of course, larger than mine and that was the time of our biggest relationship crisis. He made me wear them during sex because they turned him on. I was disappointed and because of those sculpted, fake breasts I left him for good.
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- A wisp of hair. Less than two months. Skopje, Macedonia. Well… A relationship very short, but mentally so tough and “crazy” that it brought me to a moment of complete madness… And I cut my hair and I lived without it for a long time and no one loved me… And I was happy.
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- A key bottle opener. 23 January 1988 – 30 June 1998. Ljublijana, Slovenia. You talked to me of love, gave me small gifts every day; this is just one of them. The key to the heart. You turned my head you just did not want to sleep with me. I realized how much you loved me only after you died of AIDS.
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- An Ex Axe. 1995. Berlin, Germany. She was the first woman that I let move in with me. All my friends thought I needed to learn to let people in more. A few months after she moved in, I was offered to travel to the US. She could not come along. At the airport we said goodbye in tears, and she was assuring me she could not survive three weeks without me. I returned after three weeks, and she said: “I fell in love with someone else. I have known her for just 4 days, but I know that she can give me everything that you cannot.” I was banal and asked about her plans regarding our life together. The next day she still had no answer, so I kicked her out. She immediately went on holiday with her new girlfriend while her furniture stayed with me. Not knowing what to do with my anger, I finally bought this axe at Karstadt to blow off steam and to give her at least a small feeling of loss – which she obviously did not have after our break-up. In the 14 days of her holiday, every day I axed one piece of her furniture. I kept the remains there, as an expression of my inner condition. The more her room filled with chopped furniture acquiring the look of my soul, the better I felt. Two weeks after she left, she came back for the furniture. It was neatly arranged into small heaps and fragments of wood. She took that trash and left my apartment for good. The axe was promoted to a therapy instrument.
Would YOU consider being a part of this? Would you like your own relationship relics to be exhibited in the Museum? Email us your thoughts at itsonlyfnrbutilikeit@gmail.com and the best story will be featured in the blog and awarded accordingly with a surprise gift from Frock n’ Roll.
CREDITS: Text: Nadia// Photography: Nadia// Exhibition: Broken Relationships
