Tourist Patrol (RECENT)
Within the popular postmodern sphere of the instant gratification, the individual has developed the consumerist dimension of one’s identity, in which the material values are above and before everything else. The tourism is no exception, because today it has become the largest and fastest growing modern industry, and the modern man, equipped with money and leisure, flying the budget airliners, feverishly follows the prevailing trend of unrestrained tourist consumerism. The mass tourism in the consumerist age is nothing but another instant product, full of aggressive seekers of sun, fun and sex, which ruthlessly penetrate the social structure teeming with renters and caterers who charge heedless towards profit, regardless of the self-destruction and the degradation of their own tourist space. The historic and cultural destinations which the tourists visit are just consumer goods which are gobbled up in a few days, recorded and documented by photographs so that they can be shown on social networks with the basic goal of instigating jealousy and admiration. And all that is forgotten by the next vacation and the new destination.
However, the world is changing. The digital industrial revolution has removed the obstacles to the free exchange of information, the mass media are slowly losing their influence, and the TV and the print media are consumed less and less. The time we live in is the time of transition of consciousness and the attitude of the average traveler, tourist and guest, who does not want to be a slave to the material values, and neither is he enchanted with the luxurious artifice. This is the time of those who seek an experience in the lost fundamental values of the society. The main idea of this project is to testify and document the still prevailing phenomenon of consumerism, mass tourism and their consequences, and to participate as a chronicler of the social changes in the process of transformation of the value system.

Universal Memories2-ILT-02 (1999 – 2017)
To this day I clearly remember the old family camera, a 35mm Voigtländer with an optical viewfinder, which my father had bought in Germany before I was even born. It was during the time when he was working there as a migrant worker. It was mostly used by my mother, who ordinarily used it to record all the important things and events in our family. During my childhood and growing up into a young man, I was not really interested in photographing. I was more interested in the big box with the family photos. I loved those photos, I enjoyed browsing through them, and loved sorting them into groups that made sense only to me. It was my sanctuary.
A long time has passed since I lost a big box with family photographs in war, and a few salvaged copies I found in the meantime, at relatives, are not enough to fill the void that was left after the loss. Although nothing can replace what was lost, I find images which, as a nostalgic illusion of some past reality, help me in my effort to fill the gaping void of introspection and recover from the loss of family photos. Those favourite ones that are gone, only exist in my memory anyway… until they fade from there, too, and vanish forever.

Jarun (2012)
A long hot summer in Zagreb, the capital of a country which, like a drowning man, struggles in hopelessness and depression of a moral, economic and social crisis. The summer during which I, like many of broke Zagreb residents, substituted my customary seaside summer holidays on the Adriatic coast with the regular visits to the nearby lake Jarun.

The Night Book (1997 – 1998)
If a diary is a written record of daily experiences, a “night book” would then be an visual record of some night time experiences. A record of my aimless wanderings around Zagreb during the night… while some of the exhausted working class souls were sleeping, and others were keeping vigil in the last remains of socialism – visible and invisible – which left these areas formally several years ago.

Urban Moments (1991 – 2013)
A completely personal image of Zagreb, consisting of moments captured in the street, foggy city mornings and lazy dog afternoons, sometimes unconsciously captured commentaries or my own attitudes, subsequently read in the reality I live and the willingness to accept something I have perhaps not seen completely and immediately at the moment the shutter was triggered.