close
close

Pasteleria-edelweiss

Real-time news, timeless knowledge

The Museum of Broken Relationships is Actually About Love
bigrus

The Museum of Broken Relationships is Actually About Love

Traveling from my home in Morocco to Croatia required flights from Marrakech to Madrid and Zagreb. I was stopped by security at both Marrakech and Madrid airports, thanks to the steel horseshoe in my handbag that set off the alarm. Both times, after rummaging through my security gear and finding the offending item, they paused and looked at me in surprise. I looked back at them blankly.

How will you explain to airport security that the horseshoe reminds you of your ex-boyfriend and you went to Zagreb to donate it to a museum?

idea for Museum of Broken Relationships It began, appropriately enough, with a breakup in 2003: Filmmaker Olinka Vištica and visual artist Dražen Grubišić had just ended a four-year relationship and were joking about starting a museum to display their remaining belongings. They decided to take it even further by asking their friends to donate items left over from their breakup. The collection they collected was presented to the public in Zagreb in 2006, and after 63 exhibitions around the world, it opened in 2010 as a permanent museum inside a former palace in Zagreb’s historic Upper Town.

Today, through an open call for submissions, the crowdsourced museum is sourcing objects and documents from around the world that serve as mementos of love and loss: a Godzilla figurine gifted to a Mexico City man by his ex-girlfriend, a donated axe. A film canister containing the ashes of a grieving Florida woman’s late husband, who died of cancer, was discovered by a Berlin woman who used it to smash her cheating lover’s furniture.

To donate to the exhibit, one must submit a physical object (either in person or by mail) and a story about the relationship between them, including where it took place, how long it lasted, and what the donated object represents. The Museum of Broken Relationships has received more than 3,500 donations since its first opening and has approximately 90 objects and stories on display at any given time. The exhibition changes every few years based on the collective themes that emerge from people’s stories. But Vištica says the overall mission remains the same: to preserve stories of love and loss.

It looks more like a temple than a museum. It is the shelter of love.

Olinka Vištica, Co-Founder, Museum of Broken Relationships

“It looks more like a temple than a museum. “It is a refuge for love,” he says. “We all want to believe that our relationships and history are important. “We keep an archive that will keep these stories alive.”

Visitors can leave their mark on the museum by signing the museum’s Book of Confessions, without donating any objects. Huge guestbook filled with thoughts from people in languages ​​from around the world, from Bosnian—”Nadam se da ovo nije ‘zbogom’ već ‘vidimo se kasnije’” (I hope this isn’t goodbye but see you later)—Spanish, quoting novelist Julio Cortázar: “Andábamos sin buscarnos, pero sabiendo que andábamos para encontrarnos”: We walked without looking for each other but knowing that we were walking to find each other.

According to Grubišić, the great appeal of the Museum of Broken Relationships is its recognition that the end of a relationship is as important a milestone as the more uplifting events in life.

“We already have rituals to celebrate when you get married or have children,” he says. “But if you break up with someone after 10 years, you won’t achieve anything. This is a story that needs to be confronted and processed. By doing this, you open a new page in your life.

Charlotte Fuentes, collections manager and curator of the Museum of Broken Relationships, says visitors often find comfort in donating their dated items.

“These objects are valuable witnesses to people’s stories,” he says. “An object itself may be useless, but it has great value when connected to someone’s story. Our job is to show people that we take their stories seriously and that we care.”

Since the founding of the Museum of Broken Relationships, other museums inspired by its format have emerged. Museum of Failure (2017), a traveling exhibition showcasing product ideas and services that completely fail and Love Stories Museum in Dubrovnik (2018), a collection of testimonials and stories from real-life couples around the world.

“It’s very simple. “There is no need for prerequisite knowledge of art and architecture for his museum, which has an entrance fee of 7 euros (8 US dollars),” says Grubišić. “All you need to do is come in and hear the stories. “I love when people say, ‘This is the first museum I’ve visited and read everything in it.'”

Museum co-founders Olinka Vištica and visual artist Dražen Grubišić crouch next to trees (L); Exterior view of the Museum of Broken Relationships

Museum co-founders Olinka Vištica and visual artist Dražen Grubišić; The Museum of Broken Relationships opened permanently in 2010.

Courtesy of the Museum of Broken Relationships

I decided to visit Apart from the fact that Friðrik and I broke up four years ago, I went to the Museum of Broken Relationships this June for my 10th anniversary. Although time, travel, and therapy had eased my heartache over the years, I had spent countless nights remembering my words, retracing my steps, wondering where things started to go wrong and what I could have done differently. It was very tiring.

Like Grubišić, Miami-based therapist Alejandro Goicoechea says creating a positive framework around a breakup can be the key to getting over heartbreak. By donating an object that represents my ex to the museum, she says, I give a sense of purpose to my loss.

“Attachment to an object or an idea makes us think things will never be as good again, when in fact things will get better,” he says. “Letting go of that object or idea is a way to take control of your life, to create something new. This is the change you need to move on.

Still, I get nervous the day I bring my horseshoe to the museum. A memory from the first day I met Friðrik in Reykjavík, Iceland. It reminds me of the adventures we had together and I wonder if hiding it would really be that bad. But it feels like it’s too late to turn back now.

The two women working at the museum’s front desk smile when I whisper that I’m there to donate something. “What is your object?” someone asks. I drop the horseshoe and horseshoe as I take it out of my bag in anger. clang it feels like it’s echoing throughout the museum.

I was embarrassed, but they screamed with joy. “You will bring us good luck!” says the other woman. I didn’t expect it at all, but it brought tears to my eyes. Bitter tears. Tears of gratitude. My tears for the love and loss I have experienced in life and for all the love and loss still to come.

After donating the horseshoe, there is one last thing I need to do. I’m heading towards the museum to sign the Book of Confessions. I write, “It’s time to let go.” “Thank you for everything.”