BRIDGE JUMPERS

Bridge Jumpers pays homage to the vibrant community of Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina.

For over 450 years, Mostar has built a unique Balkan culture rich in tradition, history, and ritual. One such element revolves around the town’s Stari Most, or ‘Old Bridge’. Generations of locals have guarded the community from the bridge’s nearby watchtowers, ultimately inspiring the very name of Mostar (derived from mostari, or ‘bridge-keeper’). The bridge was not solely for protection though; jumping off the historic structure is considered a rite of passage for young Croats (and some Bosnians and Serbs), requiring intense preparation and considerable courage before diving almost 80 feet into the ice-cold Neretva River.

Bridge Jumpers highlights different elements of this famed tradition, retelling a complex history and ever-changing purpose of the activity. Opening with fluttering rhythms, listeners are transported to a modern Mostar, overrun with thousands of tourists flocking for their perfect Instagrammable photos. Mostar’s bridge jumpers today capitalize on the Western pocket through persistently persuasive promises. “Only 5 more marks and I’ll jump!” they insist, gradually collecting the equivalent of hundreds of U.S. dollars before finally plunging for a frigid swim.

Having completed the daring stunt, listeners suddenly find themselves submerged in an intense river current. Themes from earlier in the piece are inverted, and our perspectives feel completely different from under the bridge. Jumping is not for the faint of heart; at least 4 deaths have been reported since 2012, aligned with a lethal pattern that has existed since the original Stari Most’s construction in 1566. Faint whispers of past souls wander between the currents, reminding jumpers of their lengthy ancestral lineage.

After wading to the rocky riverbanks, the sounds of the Bosnian army fill listeners’ ears. In an instant, it’s 1993 and the Bosnian War has taken siege on the town. The crown jewel of Mostar is left destroyed, severing the two sides of the river physically and politically. Earlier themes come back mockingly, now depicting chaotic gunfire and perpetual panic over an uncertain future.

Suddenly, a flash-forward. Transported back to modern day, it’s clear that the city survived. But at what cost? Bullet holes pepper the buildings of now sleepy neighborhoods. Shells of former homes and stores litter the hilly outskirts of Mostar, covered in graffiti still new enough to be legible. Shopkeepers, selling overpriced souvenirs and familial ćevapi, still remember the echoing screams outside their storefronts as neighbor turned on neighbor, systematically targeting ethnicities other than their own.

Bridge Jumpers encourages audiences to dive beyond the surface. Practices become traditions when faced with adversity; it’s imperative that outsiders recognize the turbulence that created communities like Mostar before casting judgment or inserting themselves in sacred lineages.