By Isidora Stankovic, TD ‘16
Whenever I go to Belgrade, after I overcome my jetlag, I like to explore the city by hopping on a random bus line and seeing where it will take me. For me, Belgrade is at once familiar and foreign. My family is Serbian and I have visited the city every year since I was born, but because I have never stayed in Belgrade more than a few months, I arrive in the city each time with fresh eyes.
This year I start my stay by searching the city for old Austro-Hungarian architecture. Until the beginning of the 20th century, much of the Balkans was a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and throughout Belgrade you can see the artistic impact of the old empire in the façades and mouldings of buildings and houses. I begin at the Belgrade Train Station — a large yellow and white structure that looks more like a palace than a bustling train station. Built in 1884, the station was constructed to connect Vienna to Istanbul by rail. Today, the building stands as a reminder of Serbia’s status as a link between East and West; however, the Belgrade Train Station’s design is purely Western, and its understated white detailing reminds me of the Villa Rathenau in Berlin.
From the Belgrade Train Station I take the number nine trolley line up Nemanjina Street to the Cathedral of Saint Sava. Hram Svetog Save, as it is called in Serbian, is the largest Orthodox Christian church in the world and is named after the founder of the Serbian Orthodox Church, Saint Sava. However, due to a lack of funds, the inside of the church remains undecorated and unfurnished, save for a few icons and the candles glowing on both sides of the church.
If you walk around the Hram and take a right on Braničevska Street, and then walk a couple of blocks, you will come to my favorite street in Belgrade. Rankeova Street is lined with the grand Austro-Hungarian style villas I find so beautiful. Today, these villas are the residences and private practices of successful doctors and lawyers, but I like to pretend that they once housed old aristocratic families and visiting diplomats. Iron fences surround each house, and they are all pushed rather close together. Though similar in size, the houses differ in the rich detail of their façades. Around the windows of my favorites are delicate floral flourishes and soft, sloping arches. These houses and narrow streets like Rankeova are typical of Stari Beograd, or Old Belgrade. Tomorrow I will cross the river to Novi Beograd, or Old Belgrade, in order to explore the symmetry and Communist architecture of the youngest part of the city.
