"We live in a time of deep crisis and social tensions, where news of horrors often produces a sense of loss and hopelessness. In such a state, grief and despair easily turn into aggression. Art has the ability to articulate what often remains unspeakable, to translate affect into a shareable experience. It is precisely in this space of shared perception that art acts not only as comfort, but as a form of cognition: it enables connection, calming, and opens the possibility of a different understanding of oneself and the world. The light installation 'Awake' is conceived as such a space, where we can open up, be vulnerable, but also empowered. It invites reflection, but also confrontation - with everyday life, politics, with the death and aggression present around us. 'Awake' offers not a solution, but presence and opportunity. The possibility that through shared exposure we recognize our responsibility for one another."
Rotating light pulses at irregular intervals interrupt contemplation and introduce a sense of uneasy vigilance. She spoke about how she uses temporality and interruption as artistic strategies to activate the audience and to what extent these moments of "disruption" reflect broader patterns of memory and trauma.
"The elements I use, candles and rotating lights, are familiar, but their combination produces tension, a signal that can be interpreted as a call or an urgent need for change. Everything connects, hence 'Awake', vigil and awakening. The work 'Awake' is a light installation that functions as a temporary, living monument. I am interested in what a monument can be today: not as a fixed object, but as a living, changeable situation where individual experiences meet. Memories are not fixed, and we change them much more easily than we can influence the traumas we carry. Temporality and interruption are key to how this work functions. The irregular rhythm of the rotating light interrupts contemplation and introduces a state of attention. This disruption is not random; it activates the audience and reminds us of how memory and trauma work: fragmented, sudden, without a linear flow," she explained.
The call for "active vigilance" and shared reflection on vulnerability suggests an ethical dimension of participation. How does she see the role of the audience within this "changeable constellation"? Are visitors witnesses, participants, or co-responsible actors in the message that "Awake" seeks to convey?
"The work is open and located in an open public space. The audience is invited to participate, pause, light a candle. Everyone can take their own position within the context the work offers, be a witness, participant, or just a passerby. I find that shift interesting. The light of the work touches even those who want to ignore it or just pass by. And that is an equally important position. In that sense, the audience is not fixed in one role. It constantly changes and thus becomes part of the 'changeable constellation'. We share the same space and time, although our experiences and understandings are different. 'Awake' does not impose a message, but opens the possibility of responsibility, to be present for one another. It is precisely in that shared presence that a space of empathy arises," she said.
On the meaning of the work "Cease," which was exhibited at the Venice Biennale, and the relevance that "Bosnian Girl" holds in today's time.
Šejla Kamerić presented the project "Cease" at the Venice Biennale two years ago. We were interested in how it unites the universal language of symbols, such as a torn white flag traditionally signifying surrender, and the personally rooted experience of surviving the siege of Sarajevo. She also spoke about how this transformation of meaning, placed in public space, questions the boundaries between collective memory, political gesture, and the ethical responsibility of art not to offer an "ending," but a permanent state of vigilance and resistance.
"'Cease' is a sculpture that evokes a torn white flag, lowered halfway down the pole and frozen in time. All these elements together create a new image. The question this work carries is how to fight for peace, how to stop wars and suffering. These are universal themes, but for me they are deeply tied to a very personal experience. I survived the siege of Sarajevo and I know what the horror of war, the fear and pain that remain, mean. In the work 'Cease,' just like in the new installation 'Awake,' my own experience is transformed through simple symbols into art that opens new meanings and speaks about a collective state. I create works that do not have a closed meaning; different readings are always possible, but the context I provide encourages reflection and understanding, gives hope, and fosters tolerance and empathy as a principle of communication. In that sense, these works are political gestures. I also see them as an ethical responsibility to never stop thinking about peace and a shared future," she stated.
If her work "Bosnian Girl" is viewed from today's perspective, in a time when war narratives are increasingly relativized and hate speech easily circulates in the digital space, it gains additional layers of meaning. It is no longer just a testimony of a specific moment, but also a permanent warning about how dehumanization becomes normalized. Does she believe that "Bosnian Girl" is more relevant today than ever, especially when viewed in the context of Palestine and Iran?
"That work today indeed carries new layers of meaning, especially in a time when war narratives are relativized and hate speech quickly circulates in the digital space. It is not just a document of a moment, but a permanent warning about how dehumanization can be normalized and repeated. In that sense, 'Bosnian Girl' today feels even more present than when it was created, because new realities constantly reactivate it," she said.
She added that it is important to emphasize that this work was created 23 years ago, when she was a young artist.
"I decided it would be an action in public space, that the posters would be on the street, not in the safe, closed space of a gallery. They provoked many reactions, many of them not positive, but those that were positive were stronger than anything else. The mothers of Srebrenica took that work as their own, and that is the greatest praise I have ever received. At that time, I was speaking about the position of a victim who does not reject that role, about what it means to survive and where the strength of resistance lies. It was important to speak about genocide, but also about life after war, about the prejudices that shape how we see each other. Then and now, I think it is important to realize how we are all, in different ways, both victims and bearers of prejudice. The graffiti written by a Dutch soldier was just one of the 'loud jokes' that could be heard everywhere. With the experience of war we have, the question remains how and why we still remain in a spiral of hate and encourage aggression. If we want to be better, we must first of all want good for others, respect differences, be gentler and more open, and try to think outside the logic of division and fear," she said.
On her artistic practice and the challenges faced by young artists from Bosnia and Herzegovina.
Considering the long-standing intertwining of the role of gender, geopolitics, and representation in her artistic practice, as well as the fact that female artists from the Balkans often operate within multiple margins, we were interested in how she sees the possibility of genuine autonomy of the artistic voice.
"Thanks to experience and years of practice, today it is easier for me to control my own narrative. I can be subversive when I feel it is necessary. My artistic language has always been direct, but it is no longer questioned in the same way as when I was younger. I believe authenticity comes from a position that requires complete honesty with oneself, and then with the topic you are dealing with. Only then is it possible to resist imposed roles and expectations. Everyone has their own path. Young artists today face different challenges than I did, but thanks to technology, they also have greater opportunities for self-representation and expression," she stated.
We also discussed how in her artistic practice she questions the relationship between identity, gender discrimination, the body, and socio-political narratives, and to what extent she believes art can act as a tool for social change and criticism of dominant ideologies.
"Art is always a space of freedom. Through it, we learn, record, remember, comfort ourselves, but also develop critical thinking. It helps us imagine a different, better world. In my work, I constantly question the relationship between identity, the body, and socio-political narratives. Identities are not fixed. They change and are shaped under the influence of external and internal circumstances. It is precisely in that space of change that I see the possibility of resistance to gender discrimination and imposed roles. Art can open a space that is not reduced to ideology or category. It can be a place of criticism, but also a place of learning and recognition. I do not see it as a direct tool for change, but as a space where change can begin to be imagined," she explained.
She is among the Bosnian-Herzegovinian artists whose international career the domestic scene can be proud of. From her perspective, does she believe there is room for young female artists in Bosnia and Herzegovina, or are they forced to build their careers outside the borders of their homeland?
"Being part of the international art scene implies a kind of displacement. Unfortunately, we are a small environment that does not have a developed art market nor sufficiently strong institutions. Because of this, many artists from our region work and live abroad. Migration in art itself is not necessarily bad. The problem arises when we have nowhere to return, when there are no museums, galleries, institutions, and collections that follow, preserve, and bring back our art. This is a question of returning artistic capital, and without it, the culture of a country weakens and disappears. It is easiest to blame politics for this, but before that, we should ask ourselves how we as individuals participate in culture. What do we choose, what do we support, how do we live with art. If a young artist leaves the country because they want an international career, it does not mean their art leaves. The themes they carry are still ours, and we can recognize and bring them back. The same applies to the diaspora; those who left have not disappeared. On the contrary, we are connected and stronger precisely through these different positions," said Šejla Kamerić at the end of the interview for Klix.ba.