The Almissa Open Art contemporary art festival in Omiš (Croatia) was launched in 2010 with the aim of extending contemporary art within the milieus that are, as a rule, always isolated from these and similar events. With this, the Omiš population and their guests, in the middle of the tourist season, met with still unknown forms of artistic expression. With this shift, both in access and in geography, it has developed to include a wider range of audiences as the practice of the festival has grown with locals. Vice Tomasović is an artist and the co-founder of Almissa Open Art Festival.
Božidar Katić “Diamonds are Forever” 2024. Ph by Josip Rogošić, courtesy Open Art Festival
Nick Tobier: What did you see as the opportunity to create a program like this in the place where you created it?
Vice Tomasović: When Almissa first took place 15 years ago, I had just graduated from the Art Academy in Split and was working at an internet café, living in Omiš where I grew up and live today. Back then, there was almost no cultural activity in Omiš, apart from traditional acappella festivals, and certainly no contemporary art scene. Josip Rogošić and I decided to start something ourselves. We managed to scrape together 200 euros from the City, which we spent on a sound system. There was a performance that was unconventional for local standards: my friends and I ate a painting, a statement on how the city’s cultural funds were being misused. Marko Marković and Vinko Barić’s art punk band debuted their satirical song, “Neka tebi kušin bude stina, pi..da ti materina!” which became an anthem of the festival, eventually performing acappella versions of it and becoming a national hit – a fitting irony for Omiš’ reputation as the acappella city. We moved the main part of the program to Mirabella, a hilltop fortress and so Almissa was a dual event: visual arts up on the fortress, music down on the beach, a duel between Josip and me. In 2015, we came down from the fortress and started presenting Almissa in the city center. Around the same time I became president of Hulu (Croatian Association of Visual Artists) and started inviting outside curators to program the festival and so, in a good way, Almissa is out of my control.
Driton Selmani “Bandiera del domani” 2020. Ph by Vice Tomasović, courtesy Open Art Festival
How has Omiš changed since the first edition of Almissa and how has this affected your view of the role of Almissa today?
Omiš has transformed, in large part driven by unplanned tourism that has reshaped other towns along the Croatian coast. Each summer, traffic congestion is a nightmare and the old town turns into one vast restaurant, tables and chairs filling the streets to the point that local children no longer have space to play. Almissa has emerged as a cultural antidote, a counter-narrative to tourism as escapist experience. Many of the works in the 2024 festival addressed these issues head-on. For instance, Siniša Labrović’s billboard “Abandon”, Božidar Katić’s “Diamonds are Forever”, and Peter Grimani’s “Meeting” directly engaged with the complex dynamics of place, identity, and commercialization. Today, Omiš is almost an extension of Split’s suburbia, with many small businesses from grocery stores to cinemas replaced by shopping malls in Split. Our context is wild and it is challenging to create a contemporary art project within this environment. For years, the City Administration largely overlooked Almissa until 2014, when Boris Šitum replaced the Croatian flag atop the Mirabella fortress with a Palestinian flag in solidarity with children killed in a hospital bombing. The media sensationalized the removal of the Croatian flag rather than focusing on the act’s message. The Palestinian flag was taken down within half an hour, and Šitum detained by the police. Since that incident, the City asks us to present and explain our festival program in advance to secure permission for public spaces. This has grown into a meaningful dialogue, where we discuss the works with local officials, bringing art closer to the community and creating space for understanding and discussion.
Neli Ružić “Abus” 2024. Ph by Josip Rogošić, courtesy Open Art Festival
Who do you see as your audience(s)?
Our strategy with Almissa is to create a symposium where artists can produce work in public spaces, engaging an accidental or unsuspecting audience. On one hand, it serves as a summer gathering for our core community of artists, where we prioritize simplicity and avoid overly complex or technically demanding pieces. For the past decade, we’ve had a unique approach by inviting artists to take on the role of curators. The organizational structure has always been collaborative, with artists spending time together every day – sharing meals, staying in a big house on the river, and coming together for nightly bonfires. As for the audience, some works benefit from an active, engaged crowd, while others work better with no audience at all or an uninformed, accidental one. We are mindful that not all our audiences are artists or experts in the cultural sector. Over the years, we’ve received positive feedback from locals who appreciate the festival’s efforts to make Omiš more vibrant and contemporary.
Marko Marković (Elijah and the Grain of Wheat), “Che il tuo cuscino sia una pietra, figlio di puttana!” 2010. Ph by Marmot, courtesy Open Art Festival
Currently, our funding comes from the Croatian Ministry of Culture and around 35% from the City of Omiš. We act as intermediaries between the artists and the city, suggesting locations where projects might work best. At times, even when permits are denied, artists choose to proceed without formal approval. Recognizing that our audience also includes regional and international viewers who can’t always attend in person, we live broadcast and share detailed written accounts of each night’s events. We’ve enjoyed excellent support from national public media, sometimes making these channels of presentation even more impactful than the in-person experience. One of my favorite outcomes is when projects continue long after the festival such as Zoran Todorović’s “Remains of the Summer 2021”. During the festival, tourists used a temporary public toilet installation for five days. The artist then collected the accumulated waste, cast it into a concrete cube, and left it on-site as a small monument to the remains of summer, a testament to the ephemeral yet lasting impact of art.
Nick Tobier
Info:
The curator of Almissa 2025 (August 4 – 9, 2025) is Igor Grubić
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