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30 06 2026

Review of the 2025/26 Theatre Season

As we slowly pack away the sets, costumes and props, we are not simply packing away a theatre season, but memories, applause, the joy of creation and all the moments that marked the past ten months.

The 2025/26 theatre season opened with the 6th Festival of Drama and Theatre of the Balkan Cultural Space, “Theatre at the Crossroads,” which brought together some of the most significant productions and artists from the region.

In November, the musical “The Sky Is Too Small for Everyone” premiered, followed in December by the production “Balloon” on the Small Stage, while January was marked by the premiere of “Dangerous Liaisons.”

In April, “My Family’s Role in the World Revolution” was performed, while June brought the premiere of “Mom’s House,” bringing another successful theatre season to a close.

The audience had the opportunity to see more than 180 repeat performances and various programmes on the stage of the National Theatre in Niš, while our theatre also performed on numerous stages both in Serbia and abroad.

Each of these productions brought a new story, a new emotion and a new encounter with the audience. Behind every premiere are months of work, countless rehearsals, the creation of costumes and props, as well as the dedication of everyone whose efforts helped raise the curtain.

As it now temporarily falls for the audience, we look back with gratitude at everything we created together, while looking ahead to the new season with great excitement.

Throughout the summer, intensive preparations will be underway for the seventh “Theatre at the Crossroads” festival. At the same time, rehearsals are planned for the production “Sofka,” directed by Irfan Mensur.

A special, jubilee season lies ahead, in which the National Theatre in Niš will celebrate 140 years of existence.

We will begin the new season with the premiere of “Sofka” on October 5.

At the same time, the production will mark the opening of the festival, which will take place this year from October 5 to 11.

Thank you to all our artists, collaborators, employees and, above all, to you, our dear audience. Thank you for being with us, for sharing every applause, laugh, silence and emotion with us.

See you in the new, jubilee, 140th theatre season!

14 02 2025

The High Price of Human Freedom

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The High Price of Human Freedom

Review

At one point in George Gordon Byron’s Don Juan, he says: “Be hypocritical, be careful, do not be what you have seen, but always what you see.” This raises a very important question: Who does Don Juan see around him, and how does he see himself in an environment where hypocrisy is the only measure by which social presence is judged?

Molière’s Don Juan carries a unique paradigm that remains not only in interpretations of his work, but also as a dramatic coordinate for contemporary dramatic inspirations based on that model. Vasil Vasilev’s directorial vision opens up completely different currents in Molière’s dramaturgy: his interpretation of a person’s social free-mindedness, an aspect that, at first glance, Molière explores more extensively in Tartuffe and The Misanthrope. However, Vasilev’s thoughtful directorial approach draws out the deepest semantic considerations. His Don Juan is tired, emotionally withdrawn, a former lover deeply obsessed with his memories, an emotional vessel sinking alarmingly into the sea of hypocrisy against which Molière warns us throughout his works.

Vasilev adopts a simple and clear mise-en-scène in order to open up a dilemma for us: how free have we been in our emotional constellation, and where are the secret transitions of promiscuity that ultimately lead us to the meaning of life? Vasilev is deeply focused on the precise form of the characters, which in his concept sound extraordinarily alive, but at the same time they are part of a theatrical fugue in which self-awareness carries a tragic mark.

Watching this production, one gets the impression that Don Juan has a confessional quality, yet his and the director’s transparency lead us to believe that Don Juan also possesses these traits: elegiac, distrustful, sad and self-critical. With this concept, Vasil Vasilev creates a production that captivates with its originality, significance and highly pronounced dynamism.

Don Juan, portrayed by Dejan Lilić, is, one might say, a Don Juan we have never seen before. Dejan Lilić, as a great acting talent, introduces a very delicate, subtle distance into his precise interpretation, a self-irony that makes him a Don Juan we might encounter in the twenty-first century: disappointed, dissonant, epically sad.

Moving along the fine lines of the director’s concept, Lilić speaks, feels and ultimately plays Don Juan as Molière probably wanted to write him—or perhaps did write him—and whom the director and actor have managed to read in precisely that way. Developing his character with great skill and plunging into every vertical dimension of his characteristics, Dejan Lilić reveals a palette of sensitivity that we can recognize within ourselves.

On the other hand, that aforementioned distance conveys a message that the director realizes in his interpretation of this antihero: the impossibility of rebellion in a time when hypocrisy is the primary driving force behind all social transformations. Dejan Lilić offers us a Don Juan who perfectly corresponds to the political and social ambitions of the twenty-first century, which the author of these lines often calls the “sinful” twenty-first century.

Of course, the question also arises as to how and why it is “sinful.” Is Don Juan considered a “sinner,” and therefore an antihero, both in Molière’s time and in Byron’s? At one point, Don Juan says to his servant Sganarelle: “What do I believe in? I believe that two and two are four and four and four are eight.” This means that not only was Molière pragmatic, but so too is the Don Juan of the twenty-first century.

This Don Juan stands at the beginning of the production on a staircase leading upward, toward the clouds. His hesitation in all his interactions amuses him, but also saddens him. Through this character, Dejan Lilić sends us the message that we cannot constantly justify ourselves, that we must nevertheless find a little room in our hearts for our inner freedom—the freedom we imagined but never actually achieved.

As a director with a firm concept, Vasil Vasilev also speaks in this production about dreams, about unfulfilled dreams, dreams that an unfulfilled character such as Don Juan refuses to abandon even during his spiritual decline.

Don Juan is a production filled with great acting energy. Among the outstanding performances, we should also mention Katarina Mitić Pavlović as Charlotte, whose beauty represents one of the greatest aesthetic and moral warnings in this interpretation of Don Juan; Danilo Petrović as the playful, conservatively and traditionally raised Pier; and the quietly emotional Donna Elvira, played by Maja Vukojević Cvetković, who in this directorial vision represents a clerical woman who views love and disappointment in love as a spiritual particle within the human condition.

The subtle irony of Dragiša Veljković’s Sganarelle is yet another aspect that speaks to the production’s unusual perspective. At the same time, we have the dynamic scenes involving Donna Elvira’s brothers, Don Alonso and Don Carlos, in the excellent performances of Uroš Milojević and Andrija Mitić.

The visual context of the production is shaped by exceptionally simple yet symbolically powerful scenography, dominated by stairs and a ring, which surround the justifications for all “sinful” deeds, but are also, in a certain way, the first gateway to freedom after a person’s exhaustion in the search for love, which has fallen upon the actors in the form of a torn-off seagull’s wing.

The costumes complement this visual language, containing a certain richness of colour derived from a particular period while being skilfully modernized. This beautiful visual constellation of costumes and scenography is the work of Marija Kunčeva, while the musical score, unobtrusive yet an extraordinary bloodstream running through the entire work, was composed by Milen Apostolov.

Don Juan is neither a lover of the sixteenth nor of the twenty-first century. He says: “How terrible it is to be a great lord and yet a wicked man,” and remains in the territory of ignobility, burdened by great debts and accompanied by a friend who refuses to extinguish even the small hope that remains within him.

No matter how free we are, it is still not enough. That is why this unpurified Don Juan, carrying a great burden of life, bad decisions and changes, becomes a model for the contemporary human being, who sees marriage as shackles, love as foolishness, and hypocrisy as the only way to succeed in life.

Molière’s Don Juan seems to possess a secret both to eternal forgiveness and to the eternal occupation of the human spirit. This production opens doors that have until now remained closed in the interpretation of this great classical dramatic text.

Sašo Ognenovski

Link: https://novamakedonija.com.mk/zivot/kultura/visokite-skalila-na-chovekovata-sloboda/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR17BDFwW0EHmbOL6Qr8lGLSevn5BREp-iGn7gNeW-ucEN1kZivH2TIcHnA_aem_CXSqqjaTMKQb2DLVP3Tw8g

07 09 2024

Olga Odanović: “Theatre Is a Mirror of Life and Essential to Everyone”

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Olga Odanović: “Theatre Is a Mirror of Life and Essential to Everyone”

Love at first sight—that is how we might describe the encounter between Olga Odanović and the “Theatre at the Crossroads” festival. Niš already had a place in her heart, as she spent part of her life in nearby Aleksinac, while she received applause and awards on the Summer Stage. Now, the National Theatre has found its way into her heart as well. She is especially happy, she says, to have come to Niš with The Bald Soprano by Jagoš Marković, her great friend whom she misses dearly and who was one of the “pillars of theatre art.”

Olga Odanović leaves no one indifferent, whether she is speaking from the small screen, the big screen, the “boards that mean life,” or simply in private. The Niš audience experienced this on the fifth evening of the fifth “Theatre at the Crossroads” festival, and to complete the symbolism of the number five—she gave it a five-star performance.

It is her first time at this still-young festival, and she hopes that one day they will celebrate major anniversaries together.

– My heart is always full when I see productions from across the region and when I see that this is an international festival. I am happy. Niš must have a serious theatre festival. I hope this festival will last for a very long time and that we will celebrate some wonderful anniversaries together. I absolutely support every kind of engagement when it comes to its organization. Theatre is essential to everyone, regardless of which social group you belong to. Theatre is a mirror of life, something that points to many of the things we experience. I believe that every kind of festival, especially in Niš, which deserves one, has my absolute support, and I hope you will last for a very long time – says Olga Odanović.

Olga and Niš are strongly connected. She lived and attended school in nearby Aleksinac, and has appeared in numerous films screened at the Filmski Susreti festival, where she has also received awards.

– I have a strong emotional connection to Niš. I love Niš and I love coming here. I love being at the film festival, and this theatre festival is particularly dear to me. I must emphasize how especially happy I am that we are in Niš with The Bald Soprano, by my favorite director and friend, Jagoš Marković – adds Olga Odanović.

Olga Odanović spoke about Jagoš Marković, her great friend and a director whose work she deeply respected and loved, with particular emotion, sparing no words of praise and occasionally struggling to hold back her tears.

– The entire cast of six in The Bald Soprano are great admirers of Jagoš’s theatre. There are many of them, but the six of us have a particularly strong connection with Jagoš. I am not saying that we were the only ones who belonged to him, but we are great admirers of his theatre. So many people loved him, which makes me very happy. I am happy that I lived in Jagoš’s time. I am happy that I met him, that we grew together, both as people and in our professions—me as an actress and him as a director. We were truly inseparable from our third year at the Academy, when he first saw me during an exam in Ancient Tragedy. I played Medea, and from that moment on we never parted ways.

There were productions that were less successful, of course, but Jagoš also created unforgettable, extraordinary productions that will absolutely be remembered for a very, very, very long time. Those are things that cannot be erased. I thank him for that. He taught me what theatre is, how to be happy when I come to the theatre, and he taught me so much. I had a wonderful professor, Milenko Maričić, who was an outstanding teacher, but when Jagoš appeared, along with the practical experience of working in the theatre and working with him, many things came together that benefited my acting career, as well as his career as a director – said the actress.

Olga Odanović describes him as a “pillar of theatre art,” and now that pillar is deeply missed. Jagoš will live on for a long time, as long as his works remain on theatre stages and as long as great people like these continue to share the most beautiful stories about him.

15 06 2021

THE GENESIS OF NUŠIĆ’S LOVE FOR THE THEATRE

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THE GENESIS OF NUŠIĆ’S LOVE FOR THE THEATRE

Photo: Nikola Stojanović

Dear Mr. Editor,

You have asked me when and how my love for the theatre began, to which I devoted a full forty years of my work. I will gladly answer you, all the more so because you are asking me only this one question.

I attended primary school and two years of secondary school in Smederevo, where I also spent my earliest childhood. At that time, Smederevo, being the only export port, was an unusually prosperous and lively place, and travelling theatre companies would often visit the town. When they left, we children would, as is often still the case today, stage our own plays in sheds.

One of those companies had a particular influence on me.

This was shortly before the Herzegovina Uprising. I was barely twelve years old, still in the first years of secondary school. A theatre company arrived in Smederevo, led by the then-famous Mihajlo Dimić, the son-in-law of Joksim Nović Otočanin, who was said to be the finest Kir Janja. Dimić was the true embodiment of the travelling actors of the previous century. He always wore a black frock coat that fell below his knees, a Vatermörder collar around his neck, and he was unshaven, with long, artistic hair. On his head he wore a top hat from the theatre wardrobe, and on his feet were worn-out shoes. Thin and emaciated, yet proud of his calling and sensitive about his artistic reputation.

Mihajlo Dimić, the first director of the Niš Theatre, 1887–1893.
Artwork: Katarina Filipović
National Theatre in Niš

The company performed near my house, in the garden by the “Zeleni Venac,” and most of the props were borrowed from my family home. For me, it was a great honour and a source of pride whenever he would put some chair on my head and carry it from our house to the theatre and back again the next day. Many children envied me these honours. Needless to say, for the services that my family and I provided to the company, I was allowed to watch every performance free of charge, standing right beside the stage, where the Gypsies played their music. As I was small in stature, I could just about reach the stage with my eyes and nose, so I can say that on that occasion I literally smelled the stage for the first time.

But I also experienced a rare privilege, one denied to most other mortal children: from time to time I was allowed behind the scenes, where I could see with my own eyes how the scenery was set up, how the actors were made up, and how they glued beards and moustaches onto their faces. All of this later proved extremely useful in the theatre games we children played, and, above all, it gave me authority, so I was always the director of those little theatres.

The Mihajlo Dimić company mostly performed patriotic plays: Hajduk Veljko, The Battle of Kosovo, The Cross and the Crown, The Death of Stefan Dečanski, The Two Sergeants, along with the occasional play by Sterija. At that time, an uprising was already being anticipated in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and a patriotic spirit and warlike mood had swept through Šumadija as well. The director of a travelling theatre therefore had to adapt to that mood. Dimić even wrote several patriotic plays himself, which appealed to the general sentiment of the audience.

ZULEJKA, a Bosnian slave, Mihajlo Dimić
First phototypical edition, 1992, based on the 1889 edition
National Theatre in Niš

The leading roles in those plays were usually performed by the then young actor Mihajlo Risantijević, who later became head of the extras at the Belgrade Theatre. Clumsy even then, as he remained later in life, and speaking in that milkman’s dialect which he stubbornly used until his death, he made an extraordinary impression on us children, as well as on a large part of the audience, simply through his appearance.

When, in the third act of Hajduk Veljko, Veljko would storm into the Turkish camp, Risantijević would charge like a bear, cross the stage in two strides, and the young boys playing the Turks—who were a full metre shorter than Risantijević—would tumble across the stage like cucumbers poured out of a sack. The audience would then erupt in indescribable enthusiasm and sincerely marvel at Risantijević’s heroism.

When I remember how respectfully I watched Risantijević whenever he passed by my house! I could never have imagined then that one day, while appearing as an extra at the Belgrade Theatre, I would come under his management, much less that one day I would become his director.

When the uprising in Bosnia had already broken out and people here had begun whispering more and more about the possibility of Serbia entering the war, people began tightening their belts, holding on to their money and saving wherever they could. Dimić’s company therefore fell on hard times—such hard times that he did not even have enough money to transport the company from Smederevo to Jagodina, which at the time was not a particularly great expense.

One day, Dimić came to my father. I do not know exactly what happened, but I remember that that afternoon Stevan Dečanski, Hajduk Veljko, Tsar Lazar and the other Serbian heroes, each carrying a piece of scenery on his head like a halva seller carrying a tray of halva, came to our house and left the scenery in the shed. Later I understood that Dimić had borrowed money from my father for the journey and had left the scenery and the main curtain as collateral. Needless to say, he never came back for them.

In this way, I became the owner of genuine theatre scenery. On one side was a painted room, which served both as Kir Janja’s room and as the ceremonial hall of Tsar Lazar; on the other, painted across wooden slats, was a forest that served equally well as a forest, a dungeon and a street.

One can imagine how much I impressed the other children as the owner of genuine theatre scenery, and one can imagine how many advantages my theatre now had, with its authentic scenery.

And so, that was when a higher, rather than merely childish, love for the theatre was born within me. I began writing plays myself, which I performed together with my friends. And, interestingly enough, despite the patriotic mood that prevailed at the time, the first play I wrote, when I was not yet twelve years old, was a comedy. I remember that it was a humorous piece about family life and that it was called The Red Beard.

There you have it, then—my marriage to the stage, or, if you prefer, the genesis of my love for the theatre.

That was a full fifty years ago.

Branislav Nušić
Text prepared by: Tamara Milosavljević