How to tell the story of an observatory in Sarajevo?
Perhaps through its refrain: Down - Up - Down - Up

In the heights of the city, the Trebević hill.
An old watchtower, once gazing with its inquisitive eye at the movements of the city below. Down.

But in the 1960s, a group of students had the somewhat crazy idea to make it look up instead. To build an astronomical observatory. Up.

Yet, an observatory on top of a hill is too serene or perhaps too strategic. During the Siege, the observatory was forced to lower its gaze again. Hijacked, repurposed for surveillance and targeting rather than stargazing. It was wounded, mutilated. The relationship with the sky became twisted. Those stationed on the hills could enjoy the sunlight, while those in the city faced a deadly rain. Down.

When the siege ended, the observatory lay in pieces, scattered everywhere.
Thirty years have passed since, and efforts are still ongoing to restore the right to look - Up.

"I don’t know where they bring their women from, but I saw them through binoculars. One of them rolled out a beach mat by the trench and sunbathed in a swimsuit. She lay there for hours (...) covered her body with sunscreen and abandoned herself completely to her quietude." (Chetnik Positions)

“Come on, Harun, come back home, grenades are raining outside.” (Children)

Semezdin Mehmedinovic, Sarajevo Blues (1992)

Trebevic Observatory - 1982