Božo Vrećo touches on ethnicities and gender roles, ecstasy and vulnerability with his traditional love songs from Bosnia-Herzegovina. A spiritual journey across borders.
The pompous hall in the Kurhaus Wiesbaden, with its dome, gold-decorated mirrors and columns, is perhaps just the right setting.
In the audience, a conspicuous number of women, high heels, lips painted red, painted fingernails; the snatches of language I pick up sound Slavic in my ear.
The audience, initially seated, eventually stands almost without exception.
Mobile phone cameras are held aloft to take a picture or a video of Božo Vrećo, even though Vrećo himself feeds the fans with pictures via social networks. The catchiest lines of Vrećo’s better-known songs are sung along, for instance where this advancing word and drum staccato, followed by a short breath, transitions into the cathartic chorus of “Pandora”.