Iva Kraljević

Iva fights a loosing battle against her abusive mother who tries her hardest to control every aspect of the former's life. The way she sees it, there's only one way out of her continously deteriorating mental state: running.

In the “White Horse” café, waitress and guests apathetically go through their routines. Meanwhile, the reality surrounding them seems to destabilise more and more: between white noise and the sound of tuning forks, between daydreams of galloping knights and ever-growing mountains of drizzling packet sugar. Ivana Bošniak Volda and Thomas Johnson Volda pile up layers of these images and sounds, until they crack – and clear the way to breathe.

A poetic personal journey through the director's memories of the past and present, presented through unconventional combinations of images and sounds and the haunting presence of silence that threatens to whisk them away into the oblivion.

A poetic personal journey through the director's memories of the past and present, presented through unconventional combinations of images and sounds and the haunting presence of silence that threatens to whisk them away into the oblivion.

A poetic personal journey through the director's memories of the past and present, presented through unconventional combinations of images and sounds and the haunting presence of silence that threatens to whisk them away into the oblivion.

A living room. A place where the private space of a flat is on public display. Using memory, supposition and measurable architectural elements, the space of the living room is continuously constructed and reconstructed, and the action grows into an interpretation of past, present and possible events and relationships.