Darija Lorenci Flatz
Written by: Ivan Ban Photos: Tomislav Marić
The acting persona of Daria Lorenci Flatz sheds light on the obscurities within us that we have been in the dark about and sets truths that are anything but pleasant before our eyes. Whether the reason for this is her unique physical appearance or her theatrical skills that set her apart from her colleagues – it is hard to say. Maybe it is all about her genuine endeavours to heal herself with the truth through art and, by extension, those of us who witness that art.
How many of our celebrities would be willing to admit that they only fell in love with their face in their late forties? How many celebrities – not today, but throughout the last few decades – have openly talked about, for example, anorexia as a serious psychophysiological disorder? Few and far between. Daria Lorenci Flatz has spoken up about all these socially relevant topics and kept the discussion going for decades, helping both herself and us along the way as an artist and a human being.
Ivan Planinić’s production of the play “Fafarikul”, based on the novel by Đurđica Čilić, recently premiered at Daria’s resident Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb. The story of “Fafarikul”, in which Lorenci Flatz plays the lead, follows the fate of Bosnia (where our actress’s story started) and the Bosnian people in the final chapters of the twentieth century. Therefore, it is only natural to start our conversation by asking her what it was like to work on that piece.
Working on “Fafarikul” was really challenging, mostly because it wasn’t originally written as a play, but a collection of short stories combined into a novel, which was then adapted into a play by Mirna Rustemović and Ivan Planinić. The first step was to get into the groove and roll with it so as to perform the role as truthfully to the source material as possible, which was quite demanding. All in all, it was a wonderful, enticing, difficult and intense process. We are all happy with the outcome.
Considering your war and refugee wounds, has “Fafarikul” had a therapeutic effect on you as a sort of poetic, nay, dramatic justice?
The play does not gatekeep access to its meaning for the sake of those who have been through war or lived as refugees. It is, in its own way, a tribute to all our send-offs and wipe-offs, to all our transformations and transitions, which always come with sadness and pain. Thanks to Đurđica, this play holds that much needed door open to what is yet to come. There is a lot of beauty and catharsis coming out that door, so the play has a therapeutic effect on us, as well as the audience getting a peek into it – at least that’s how I see it.
Has your perception of Bosnia – that almost mythical dominion – changed compared to before?
Those of us who left Bosnia have the privilege to see it as mythical. It’s a bit hard for me to go there because I’m afraid that seeing it would photobomb my mental image of it and burst my bubble. It’s an inner wealth, really – having an entire country inside yourself and for yourself.
Your stepped into this year at the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb by stepping onto the stage on the opening night of “The Adventurer at the Door” play. Your role was quite interesting – beyond the realms of reality and life.
I felt like a guest member of the ensemble because I had but a few lines. I only appeared at the beginning and at the end of the play, and I was not as involved in the process as the rest of the ensemble, so I can’t really say much about it. It was certainly interesting for me to reflect on the idea of personification of something so obscure, and breathe life into it with the right equation of sound, silence and contemplation.
In addition to theatrical roles, you’ve also portrayed a lot of characters on screen. Thanks to the “Kumovi” TV series, you enter the homes of thousands and thousands of people every night. By your own admission, you started starring in telenovelas, among other things, for the sake of fame. Hearing someone admit that is certainly refreshing…
Fame is indeed very endearing, nice, and flattering. Of course, at times it can also be tiring because I don’t have my make-up on 24/7 and I’m not in a good mood all the time, and I don’t always have time to deal with people who have certain expectations of me. But it’s really cool to see how much meeting you means to someone because they saw you on television. It’a s Veni, Vidi, Vici experience for me.
Apart from “Kumovi”, you’ve also made headlines thanks to your participation in the Croatian rendition of “Dancing with the Stars”. Before you got into acting, you wanted to become a dancer. Is there enough room for exploring movement in the Drama Ensemble of the Croatian National Theatre?
There’s always room for physical expression and thinking with your body because it’s part of being a performer, as well as a personal starting point of which you can’t become aware or lose sight under the influence of others. You can always get more leeway, and the creative team may sometimes even put a spotlight on the physical aspect of a role, but in general the performer themselves makes the move, and the ones calling the shots either respond to it or not. People pick you based on your acting and performing tendencies, and I was always lucky enough to hit the spot.
Has your perception of your physical appearance changed over the years?
Very much so. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I feel amazing in my skin now. I’m about to turn 48 and I have never felt prettier. For the first time ever, I feel like a beautiful woman. I’m just sad it happened so late, but better late than never.
I’ve never revelled in my body and my sense of self as much as I do now. Our appearance and its image in our psyche set us up for success. I’ve mostly gotten roles of difficult, headstrong, and complex women because I have a very specific look and strong features – I’ve never been a pretty face and a typical belle, so my face was a perfect fit for such roles. In fact, I lucked out as an actress. As much as I always lamented not having softer features, my face still took me places.
Both “Adventurer at the Door” and “Fafarikul” raise the question of personal freedom. Do you believe that man has but little freedom? How would you define freedom in general?
For something called freedom, it’s quite unattainable to man. Most of us fear it: we are afraid of overstepping boundaries, which is actually a natural and normal part of the urge for self-preservation, because otherwise we might get killed. How much a person is willing to challenge their own boundaries is an individual matter. In any case, it’s always better to challenge your own than someone else’s.
When it comes to freedom, what bothers me the most is the fact that people take it at the expense of others, which often gets very ugly. Take smoking as an example, which is regulated by our law to a certain degree. I’m a former smoker – took me two times. I’ve been a non-smoker for two months now, but even when I used to smoke, and when it wasn’t strictly regulated by law, I always wondered if the smoke bothered the people around me. There are a lot of smokers who don’t think twice about it, and they even nonchalantly light up a cigarette in non-smoking areas. They often even feel like they’re breaking the chains by chain smoking at places where it’s not allowed. They twist the fact that what they’re doing bothers people and has a harmful effect not only on them, but also on the people around them.
However, man has the freedom to think that this is not true. That’s how it goes with freedom…
Following up on freedom – what are your thoughts on your free time? You have your own studio, you play both at the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb and other theatres, you also do TV series and movies… Do you enjoy all of the above so much that you don’t even think about free time in the traditional sense of the word?
I really love what I do, so I don’t perceive work like most people and I don’t pit it against “free time”. For the most part, I feel that I don’t work just because I have to – it is how I choose to spend my time. Of course, I need some free time as well, but after a while I can’t wait to get back to work. I like to rest, spend time with my family, but I really love working.
Everyone laughed at me when I went to my 4sobe studio on New Year’s and did an hour’s training. I think this is called being a workaholic (laughter).
You started your career at the Exit Theatre in Zagreb. What is your opinion on the alternative scene of today? How much has it changed compared to the late 1990s and early 2000s?
It’s hard for me to talk about the alternative scene now. One second I feel like saying it’s flourishing, and the next it seems to me that it’s gotten lazy. I don’t know, maybe I’m just less involved than I was before. On the other hand, I feel like we had more opportunities when we were young, like we were in high gear and put on a lot of showstoppers. Again, I’m not the right person to answer that question. Due to my busy schedule, I spend more time on stage than in the audience. It is possible that the alternative scene is truly flourishing, and I’m just missing it.
In “Fafarikul”, you play alongside Živko Anočić, who recently joined the drama ensemble of the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb. Has anything changed following his arrival?
I’m really happy that Živko joined our ensemble. Words cannot describe how wonderful it is to play alongside him. He is one of a kind, a true gem, and I could go on about his qualities for hours. We have a special bond – his brother, Saša Anočić, who is no longer with us, had a great influence on me, and I have the feeling that we belong to the same theatre family, even though this is the first time we’re working on a play together. Our bond is deep, inconspicuous, and nothing short of divine.
Živko’s sensitivity, restraint, modesty, and the ability to keep things to himself make up his star quality. It is so wonderful and enticing. One can never get enough of watching him and interacting with him.
We cannot miss out on the chance to talk about your title role in the “Marija Jurić Zagorka” play.
I consider this performance my personal Guinness world record (laughter). It lasted four hours and I’d lose two kilograms after each performance. There were around fifty actors and two hundred scenes included in the play!
The opening night was the first time we performed the play in its entirety, and we had staged it in just six weeks. The week before the premiere, it lasted six hours – the amount of source text was wild. My twins were one and a half years old then, and Mak had an ear infection for thirty days. I will never forget that super-human effort…
I have achieved most of the things in my life through hard work and I am really proud of that. It truly warms my heart. This role landed me a spot in the ensemble of the Croatian National Theatre in Zagreb, and for that I’ll always consider it my pride and joy. I’ll never forget the sense of commonality, exhilaration, and elation after each performance. Playing Marija Jurić Zagorka from cradle to grave was intoxicating.
Where did you get the courage to talk about everything so openly, without holding back? About the reasons you did telenovelas, your beauty, and finally, battling anorexia?
An open conversation is the only conversation worth having. I guess that’s how I act on stage as well, it’s the nature of my vocation; a vocation that serves as a tool for understanding yourself and the world around you, for exploring, observing, and keeping some distance from the projection of your hintergedanken upon others. Just like in therapy.
I’ve been in therapy all my life, ever since the war, and ultimately because of my anorexia and need for introspection. Acting is also a sort of therapy because it constantly makes you open up and dig deep into your soul. Consistent communication with the people around me and sharing my experiences in order to be understood have always been my default settings.
If I do decide not to talk about something, it’s always with the aim of protecting my loved ones – because sometimes, in my desire to shed some light on an issue, I could call attention to people who wish to be left alone, so I stop myself. But if I don’t risk invading anyone’s privacy, I have a need to talk about my “Everything Everywhere All at Once”.
It’s been twenty years since the “Sorry for Kung Fu” movie premiered. Is that role important to you?
Of course. It put me on the map as a movie actress, as someone who’s there to stay. People started seeing me as a serious actress and offers started coming in, and they haven’t petered out to this day. There are slower days, but, in general, I’m blessed with “film continuity”, so I consider myself extremely lucky.
Time flies. How do you, as an actress, come to terms with that fact?
For some reason, I just can’t seem to make and maintain peace with transience. I have these conversations with myself when I realise I’m not the first choice for a part and when it seems like time is standing still while my biological clock is ticking on. And then it all changes again… You should never wait for others to invite you to their table – you got to roll up your sleeves and make your own table.
All my life I’ve tried to find something for myself out there. I didn’t sit and wait. This attitude helped me through moments when my career came to a standstill. That’s how I act the part: I know that the show must go on even if the crew went home.
Daria Lorenci Flatz’s dreams are…
Work out on a daily basis, star in plays, and work on my social media skills – that’s my new pastime… Also, my 4sobe studio, my family, my children, and my dog. My life is full of wonderful things and I’m looking forward to everything that is yet to come.
