Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, is an energetic but calm city with many points of interest. It’s still recovering from a natural disaster of almost four years ago. On 22 March 2020 with the pandemic underway, an earthquake measuring 5.5 on the Richter scale struck Zagreb. It was the strongest earthquake in the city in 140 years and did immense damage. Repairs are still going on and you can see scaffolding around the twin towers of the cathedral in the photo below.
So with many external sites marred by construction work, visiting museums seemed a good option. Zagreb boasts a number of such institutions with quirky names – the Museum of Hangovers, Museum of Mushrooms, Museum of Illusions – but the one that grabbed my attention was the Museum of Broken Relationships.
Located in the historic but not particularly impressive Kulmer Palace in Zagreb’s Upper Town, the Museum of Broken Relationships is dedicated to failed relationships, disappointments and tragedies. Its exhibits are personal objects donated by their former owners, accompanied by their stories in which they express their emotions.
It sounds maudlin but it’s not. It is by turns gut-wrenching, depressing, humorous and uplifting, and it makes you reflect on your own personal experiences and how they intertwine with the items on display. Unless you’ve led a completely trouble-free and uncomplicated life you will most likely find a story that you identify with. ‘’ No museum has ever made me feel more connected to everyone else in the world before,” one visitor wrote in the museum’s guestbook.
Since opening, the museum has toured internationally and has appeared in Los Angeles and New York City. Some readers may therefore be familiar with the concept but I was not, and it made a big impression on me.
To get there from Lower Town, where we were staying at the confusingly named Hotel Dubrovnik, there are two main routes.
The three pictures above show Ban Jelacic Square.
From Ban Jelacic Square – which is Zagreb’s main central square – walk up Pavla Radica and climb the long, steep steps on your left at Stone Gate.
St Mark’s Church and yet more construction work.
Walk along Kamenita until you see St Mark’s Church on your right. The museum is now on your left. This route takes in some lively and attractive streets like the one pictured above, but I think there’s a more direct route if you take the first left after leaving the square. Either way you’ll have to do some climbing so if you want to avoid that, take the short funicular ride from Tomic Street, Lower Town, and at the top walk straight ahead. The museum is well signposted.
The Museum of Broken Relationships was inspired by a Croatian couple and their toy rabbit. Film director Olinka Vištica and sculptor Dražen Grubišić would often have to travel individually for their work and the rabbit went with the traveller, standing in for the partner that remained at home. This idyllic arrangement didn’t last and the couple reached a point where they knew that their four-year relationship was over, but one question remained: who would get the bunny when they split?
These objects of huge sentimental value could cause untold grief. To discard them was unthinkable, but leaving them with one partner could mean constant replays of unwanted memories. After agonising over it the couple came up with the idea of creating a place where the detritus of broken relationships could be displayed, satisfying the needs of both partners and inspiring others who found themselves in a similar position.
And so in 2006 the Museum of Broken Relationships was born. From humble beginnings in a shipping container with the rabbit and a few annotated donations from friends, the museum has grown to the point where displayed items have to be limited to 100 at any one time.
In 2010, the Museum of Broken Relationships found a permanent home in an 18th-century palace in Zagreb’s Upper Town, becoming the first private museum in Zagreb and attracting more than 40,000 visitors every year.
Ordinary, mundane objects fill the rooms, but it is the words that accompany them that tug at the heartstrings. A garden gnome squats beneath a tale of it being angrily thrown through the air on the day of divorce, marking the end of a 20-year marriage.
A letter from first loves parting ways in Sarajevo, Bosnia, on the brink of the war that broke up Yugoslavia recalls another romance that never stood a chance.
The picture above is of a VHS tape destroyed by a woman whose father had divorced her mother and married another woman, someone the daughter came to hate. The tape was a record of the wedding. The daughter ran over it, took to it with a screwdriver, sawed it in half and finally torched it. You don’t get much angrier than that! Destroying the tape was highly therapeutic, the donor says.
The following exhibit is self-explanatory.
Not all of the exhibits relate to failed love, some are just plain tragic. One such item is a parachute rig donated by a woman whose lover died in a skydiving accident. A German contributor donated an LP record of her father singing opera – something he wanted to do professionally. Sadly, he had to go to war where he was wounded in the throat, and that ended his singing career.
Today the original rabbit is still on display under a placard that reads: ‘’The bunny was supposed to travel the world but never got further than Iran.’’
Seemingly, it is a paradox that an institution dedicated to failed relationships could ultimately kindle the flame of human connection, but for many people that’s exactly what it does. There are others, though, who find this museum not to their liking.
The adult admission cost is €7. The museum has a café and a small gift shop that offers commissioned work from local designers, including jewellery hung with shards of broken china. The item I liked most for its understated humour was the bad memories eraser.
If you are among those for whom this museum holds no appeal, do not be deterred. Zagreb is a most interesting destination with many other notable attractions. I recommend staying at the efficient and well-located Hotel Dubrovnik. From the adjacent restaurant where they serve astonishingly generous breakfasts you can look out on to the main square.
Photos © Judy Barford. Eraser image supplied by the museum.
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