CIRKUS OGLEDALADEAN CLEA BRKIĆO knjizi i kupovini
Listopad 2026. — izlazi Cirkus ogledala, multimedijalni roman Deana Clee Brkića: roman, album, film i grafička novela

ROMAN · FILM · ALBUM · GRAFIČKA NOVELA

Cirkus
ogledala

Fragmentarni roman o ljubavi,
umjetnosti i odrazima.

Jedna knjiga. Cijeli multimedijalni svijet.
Film, album i grafička novela dostupni putem QR kodova u romanu.

SVAKA JE POZORNICA OGLEDALOTHE MIRROR CIRCUS

IZA ZASTORA

Neke se priče
ne mogu smjestiti
u jedan oblik.

U kazalištu koje pamti, među mirisom lavande i krhotinama ogledala, susreću se ljubav, umjetnost i ono što ostaje kada skinemo maske.

Cirkus ogledala je multimedijalni roman koji povezuje književnost, pokretnu sliku, glazbu i crtež. Leon, Hellen, Lakrdijaš i Marioneta pripadaju svijetu u kojem tišina govori, tijelo pamti, a odraz nikada nije samo odraz.

Knjiga je portal u četiri pojavnosti istoga svijeta — roman, film, album i grafičku novelu — koje se međusobno prožimaju i nadopunjuju, stvarajući nov i jedinstven doživljaj priče. Svako poglavlje nosi QR kod za pripadajući YouTube videospot s glazbom za taj dio priče. QR kodovi u romanu vode i do integralnog filma — glazbeno-scenske adaptacije albuma — te grafičke novele. Album se doživljava unutar filma, a svi ti sadržaji nadopunjuju čitanje.

Pročitaj više o romanu

CIRKUS OGLEDALA

fragmentarni roman o ljubavi, umjetnosti i odrazima

“Svaka pozornica je ogledalo. Svako svjetlo — ispovijed.”

Intimni i poetični roman koji spaja glazbu, filozofiju i ljubavnu priču u jedinstven doživljaj magijskog realizma — i pritom prelazi granice papira.
Leon se budi u napuštenom teatru u kojem prašina i zidovi pamte više nego ljudi. Opsjednut vlastitim odrazima, u polumraku prožetom mirisom lavande, susreće Hellen — balerinu čiji ga pokret uči da ljubav može nadživjeti i najupornije iluzije.

Njih dvoje ulaze u labirint odraza gdje vrijeme nema smjer, maske imaju dušu, a svaka rana svijetli poput krhotine stakla. Kroz trinaest simboličkih fragmenata roman istražuje granice između izvedbe i istine, maske i intime, iluzije i onoga što ostaje kada se svjetla ugase.

“Želio sam pisati o trenutku kada izvedba završi, kada umjetnik ostane sam i shvati da je maska oduvijek bila samo ogledalo.”
— Dean Clea Brkić

Cirkus ogledala je priča o ranjivosti, umjetnosti i sjenama koje nosimo, o čovjeku koji pokušava skinuti masku i ženi koja zna da istina boli, ali liječi.

Ako si se ikad zapitao tko si kad nitko ne gleda, ova knjiga šapnut će ti odgovor u tišini.

“Zavodljiv, glazben, proganjajući prvijenac. Poetičan, intiman i duboko ljudski.”

Ovo je i multimedijalno iskustvo: svako poglavlje nosi QR kod koji vodi na pripadajući YouTube videospot s glazbom za taj dio priče.

Cirkus ogledala · Leon, Hellen i Sansa

CIRKUS OGLEDALA · NAJAVA

Zastor se podiže.

Upoznaj multimedijalnu knjigu

JEDNA KNJIGA · ČETIRI POJAVNOSTI

Od riječi do odraza.

Upoznaj roman i sadržaje kojima pristupaš QR kodovima u knjizi.

Ilustracija iz svijeta Cirkusa ogledala

01 / KNJIŽEVNOST

Tamo gdje
riječi pamte.

Fragmentarni roman o ljubavi, umjetnosti i odrazima. Kroz fragmente i tajne dnevnike, priča otkriva unutarnje svjetove svojih likova — njihove tišine, sjećanja i pokušaje da sačuvaju ono što vole.

360 stranicaTvrdi uvezA5 format

QR kodovi u knjizi povezuju čitanje s filmom, albumom i grafičkom novelom.

ALBUM · THE MIRROR CIRCUS

Svaka pjesma,
jedan odraz.

Glazba, stihovi i aranžmani:
Dean Clea Brkić

THE MIRROR CIRCUS LIBRETTO

Stihovi u cijelosti.

01Prologue: Every Stage Is a Mirror
Every stage is a mirror Every song a reflection of what we’ve lost The jester, the poet, the sinner, the child All wear the same mask, beneath the same light And when the curtain falls, the echoes remain Waiting for someone brave enough to listen again…

Libretto iz romana · str. 297–297

02Lavender Ghosts
Through violet haze and candle smoke The ghosts of all I’ve been arise They hum in lavender tones of memory Wearing the scent of sleepless skies “Come,” they say, “the mirror’s awake.” In a room where the clocks don’t breathe I found the scent of her shadow A waltz of sighs and porcelain dreams A choir of ghosts in an indigo glow And every name I ever spoke Turns to dust upon my tongue A garden made of echoed prayers Where no song stays young Lavender ghosts, sing me to sleep Wrap me in whispers the living can’t keep Through your silence I remember the sound Of being lost, yet somehow found Behind the curtain of half-lit grace She moves like forgiveness in disguise Her face - a mirror without a frame Where my reflection slowly dies The more I stare, the less I see Each heartbeat dressed in reverie Lavender ghosts, dance through my veins Turn every sorrow to holy remains Through your sorrow I remember the song Of staying when I don’t belong Between dream and dawn I saw the colour of letting go A violet flame, soft and cruel Teaching me to disappear slowly Lavender ghosts, dance through my veins Turn every sorrow to holy remains Through your sorrow I remember the song Of staying when I don’t belong So fade me now, in shades of grey Where silence learns to pray The ghosts return to where they came And whisper softly My forgotten name

Libretto iz romana · str. 298–299

03The Man Who Painted Rainbows
He lived in a house of borrowed light Mixing colours out of sorrow Every shade a memory’s wound Every brushstroke a tomorrow They called him saint, they called him mad He smiled and said, “It’s all the same.” He bled his dreams across the wall To hide the places where he’d fall The man who painted rainbows out of ashes and perfume Built a heaven on his canvas while his heart became a tomb He swore that love had colours too but none of them were true He drank the light from broken glass To feel the sunrise through his veins Each hue a promise doomed to fade Each joy reborn as rain He told the stars they’re only lies Hung on threads of alibis The man who painted rainbows On the edges of despair Made beauty out of bleeding hope And prayed that no one would care He said, “The trick is never knowing Whether you’re healing or still glowing.” Oh, the circus cheers for tragedy When it’s dressed in colour’s hymn He painted masks on misery Till the canvas painted him The man who painted rainbows On the edges of despair Made beauty out of bleeding hope And prayed that no one would care He said, “The trick is never knowing Whether you’re healing or still glowing.” Now his walls are fading slow Into the dark they start to flow And where the rainbows used to gleam A single brush lies still unseen

Libretto iz romana · str. 300–302

04Ghost of Misplaced Time
In corridors of ticking dusk I walked where echoes bloom Every clock was out of sync, each heartbeat out of tune The mirrors held a thousand yesterdays, none of them were mine And somewhere, in the hush between the chimes The ghosts of misplaced time arrive Ghosts of misplaced time Dance through the dust of all I’ve known You hum my life in borrowed rhyme Then fade before the dawn has grown You wear the seconds I forgot And whisper what I am not I saw my younger shadow weep for futures that would not forgive He said, “We die in moments we don’t live not in the ones we lose.” The hours bleed through my hands like glass I watch myself but cannot pass Ghosts of misplaced time Your faces shimmer, pale and kind You teach me loss, you teach me grace And how to vanish from my mind You sing the seconds I can’t own And leave me where I’m overgrown Somewhere beneath the carousel I hear the laughter of the clocks They know my every hesitation each minute that forgot to stop Now silence holds the hour still a fragile mercy, calm and thin The ghosts retreat behind the veil and wait for me to come again Ghosts of misplaced time Your faces shimmer, pale and kind You teach me loss, you teach me grace And how to vanish from my mind You sing the seconds I can’t own And leave me where I’m overgrown Ghosts of misplaced time Your faces shimmer, pale and kind You teach me loss, you teach me grace And how to vanish from my mind You sing the seconds I can’t own And leave me where I’m overgrown You sing the seconds I can’t own And leave me where I’m overgrown

Libretto iz romana · str. 304–305

05Jester’s End (A Farewell in Shadows)
Spotlight flickers, dust in bloom The laughter fades, the mask resumes Painted cheeks begin to run A carnival that’s come undone The strings that held his smile in place Now tremble under time’s embrace He bows before an empty stage A ghost applauds inside his cage At the Jester’s End The jokes fall quiet, the mirrors bend He built his truth on borrowed lies And sold his tears as lullabies Now silence takes his final bow Who’s laughing, jester, now His bells no longer chime in tune The painted moon forgets his name Each echo feels like déjà vu Each curtain fall the same He looks into the crowdless dark And sees the man beneath the mark “Forgive the fool,” he softly pleads “For bleeding art when no one sees.” At the Jester’s End The colours fade, the mask won’t mend He mimed a life he never knew Till laughter turned to residue Now only echoes understand The joke was never planned The circus sleeps, the lights decay He dances shadows all away A marionette of memory Performing for eternity So dim the lights and close the eyes Where the fool and truth collide In silence, let his story blend Into the mirror’s other end At the Jester’s End The silence sings again The painted heart begins to fade But beauty’s debt has now been paid The stage is gone, the echo’s small But the laughter haunts us all

Libretto iz romana · str. 306–307

06The Dance of Glass and Fire
I watched you move through candle haze Your shadow wrote what I couldn’t say The stage was cold, but you were flame A dream I dared to name I danced for ghosts, for painted eyes To hide the truth beneath disguise But when you smiled, the world turned real I forgot how not to feel Two mirrors crossed in trembling light Reflected wrong, yet felt so right We’re dancing glass and fire A fragile heart, a bright desire Each step a wound, each breath a vow We love what time won’t allow Through smoke we fall, through grace we burn The stage still spins, but won’t return Your hands were snow upon my flame Your eyes - the place I lost my name I tried to joke the pain away But truth forgot to play I felt your tears beneath my spin They marked the place my end begins And every turn became goodbye Disguised in lullaby If I could stop the show We’d fade before the glow But love is just a fleeting art A mirror trembling in the heart We’re dancing glass and fire Our souls the strings, our hearts the choir When curtain falls and lights expire Remember we were fire We’re dancing glass and fire Our souls the strings, our hearts the choir When curtain falls and lights expire Remember we were fire We’re dancing glass and fire Our souls the strings, our hearts the choir When curtain falls and lights expire Remember we were fire So if you dream, don’t dream of me I’m only smoke that learned to be

Libretto iz romana · str. 308–309

07The Swan Beneath the Stage
They watch me float through painted skies A fragile grace the truth denies Each pirouette, a prayer to hide The ache I keep inside The music hums, but I don’t hear His laughter’s ghost is all that’s near I am the swan beneath the stage A song of love, a gilded cage My feathers fall through whispered tears A dance that lasts a thousand years He was the fool, I was the flame We burned, but kept the same The mirrors hum a distant plea They show the mask that isn’t me The floor remembers where I bled From steps that love misled Each turn, each fall, repeats his eyes Each silence is my sweet disguise I am the swan beneath the stage Still drowning in a paper page The show goes on, but I have fled Into the light we never said Beneath the boards, the river sighs It carries dreams that truth denies And in its depths I softly gleam A shadow of His dream I am the swan beneath the stage Still dancing through my cage If love must die, then let it sleep In mirrors where the dreamers weep If love must die, then let it sleep In mirrors where the dreamers weep Curtain falls He’s gone But I still dance

Libretto iz romana · str. 310–312

08The Mirror Circus
The curtain sighs, a ghost applauds I’m back beneath the house of cards Harlequin eyes in tarnished glass Laugh at the boy I used to pass He whispers lines I once denied Painted truths I never tried The stage is cracked, the crowd asleep My shadow sows what I can’t reap The mirrors hum a lullaby Each one a dream that chose to lie Welcome, stranger, to the Mirror Circus Where clowns wear masks that once were purpose Every smile’s a borrowed sin Every trick a lie within And somewhere under faded light The child I was still burns too bright Strings of silver cut my skin A puppet learns where faith has been The jester kneels before the frame Carves his heart and signs my name I tried to pray, but words grew still The god I built forgot my will So I dance, a pantomime of grace While ghosts applaud my fall from place Who wrote the script that I became Who taught the mask to call my name The truth is drunk, the lie’s in tune The curtain bleeds a scarlet moon Welcome, stranger, to the Mirror Circus Where love is staged and faith’s superfluous Each reflection sings my crimes Each applause repeats the times And somewhere through the shimmered haze The boy I lost still lights my maze The lights go dim, the jesters fade The ringmaster’s ghost forgets the trade The crowd dissolves, the echoes stay Another dream just walks away I drop the mask, I meet my stare The man is gone, but I am there Welcome, stranger, to the Mirror Circus Where love is staged and faith’s superfluous Each reflection sings my crimes Each applause repeats the times And somewhere through the shimmered haze The boy I lost still lights my maze Goodbye, stranger, from the Mirror Circus Your name’s been etched where truth once hurt us The show is done, the child is gone But in the glass, he still plays on And as the shards begin to fall I hear a voice, it’s mine, after all He laughs, and whispers, “Come again The Circus never ends, my friend.”

Libretto iz romana · str. 314–315

09Reflections from the Shattered Glass
I walk through echoes made of rain Each droplet knows my former name The glass remembers every sin It hums of places I have been Through fractured light I start to see What’s left of you inside of me These splinters sing in minor keys Of all I was, of all I’ll be Reflections from the shattered glass Teach me how to live at last Every wound a kind of prayer Every scar a cross to wear The mirror broke to set me free But freedom looks too much like me The pieces whisper lullabies Of fading masks and borrowed skies The clown’s white grin dissolves in rain The painted tears now feel like grace And every shard, a tongue of light Translating dark into insight Reflections from the shattered glass Reveal the truth I let bypass Every fragment knows my name But none of them will stay the same The mirror bled and so did I A silver wound beneath the sky I held a shard against the sun And saw the face of everyone The glass had split, but not apart It found its home inside my heart So let them fall, these crystal lies And crown the ground where ego dies For every mirror that I break Another soul begins to wake

Libretto iz romana · str. 317–318

10Clockwork Angels Fall Asleep
The gears still hum a lullaby The angels rest with open eyes Their halos tick in perfect time Until the silence cuts the chime The hands unwind, the springs decay The sky forgets to tell the day And somewhere deep within the hum I hear the child I’ve not become Clockwork angels fall asleep In dreams the wounded learn to keep Every pulse that fades away Is one more ghost that learns to pray Let the cogs forget their creed I am free in what I need Feathers rust beneath the gears Echoes drown in silver tears A thousand prayers, all out of rhyme Collapse beneath the weight of time Their golden wings no longer spin The song remains, but not the hymn And in the hush where faith should be I find the clock unmaking me Clockwork angels fall asleep Their dreams are clocks they cannot keep Every breath rewinds the sound Of heaven’s wheel slowing down If time was love, it’s run its course And I forgive the ticking’s source Between the tick and tock I fall A moment wide enough for all The gears dissolve, the pulse is gone And yet the stillness carries on So hush, my angels made of gears Sleep through the rust of all these years Tomorrow’s heart can start anew For even clocks must dream it too

Libretto iz romana · str. 320–321

11The Moon and the Marionette
The moon descends with silver strings To pull the night in gentle swings Her hands of light caress my face And teach my heart another place She whispers, “Dance, my fragile friend Your broken limbs can still pretend” And when I move, I feel her near The ghost of grace I can’t revere The moon and the marionette Two silhouettes in a shadow duet She pulls, I bow - she smiles, I fall A puppet’s prayer beneath it all And if she weeps, I call it rain My tears have learned her name Her light reflects on trembling wood A painted soul misunderstood She says, “ You never truly bled You only dreamed the words you said” The strings entwine around my throat I sing - but it’s her note The silence hums a tender tune Beneath the silver eye of moon The moon and the marionette Two souls who never really met She guides, I fade - she laughs, I pray And time just sleeps its guilt away If truth had wings, I’d let them break For beauty’s fragile sake “I cut the strings but feel them still Phantom threads of tethered will She smiles through clouds I can’t forget ‘Freedom,’ she says, ‘is the loneliest one yet’” Now dawn arrives - the stage unlit Her voice remains where shadows sit And though I wake in silhouette I dream she pulls me still The marionette The moon and the marionette Two souls who never really met She guides, I fade - she laughs, I pray And time just sleeps its guilt away If truth had wings, I’d let them break For beauty’s fragile sake

Libretto iz romana · str. 324–326

12Season of the Falling Masks
The air tastes like forgotten names A theatre draped in autumn flames The painted eyes begin to weep As truth awakens from its sleep Each mask that drops becomes a star Reminding me of who we are And as they fall, I understand We’re only faces made of sand This is the season of the falling masks Where shadows fail the roles they asked The show is done, the stage is bare And I can finally breathe the air Let every lie return to dust In this decay, I place my trust The jester’s smile dissolves in grey His laughter drifts the other way The harlequin unpaints his grin Reveals the ache he kept within The lovers shed their borrowed skies Beneath them, only human eyes And when the silence starts to bloom I sweep the ashes of costume This is the season of the falling masks Where truth forgets the roles it casts The mirrors crack, the colours fade But in the dark, I’m unafraid The crowd is gone, the lights have died Yet something pure survived Beneath the laughter’s faint perfume I find myself - no more costume A naked word, a breath, a spark The soul reborn inside the dark This is the season of the falling masks The autumn sky where memory asks Was it truth or just a play I let the colours drift away Now nothing hides, yet nothing mourns I wear the night, and call it dawn So let them fall - the masks, the years The glass of lies, the painted tears For when the last disguise is through The mirror finally sees you

Libretto iz romana · str. 327–329

13A Candle for the Clown
The dust still sings beneath my feet A ghost applause, a heartbeat’s cheat The curtain breathes its final sigh The painted moon forgets to cry No masks remain, no scripts to hide Just wax and flame, and time inside And though the stage remembers none I light a candle - for what’s been done A candle for the clown who made the stars fall down He danced through sorrow’s jest and left his heart undressed Now silence wears his crown, a candle for the clown His laughter drips in amber light Melting prayers through endless night Each tear a psalm the dark repeats Each glow a wound that never heals The ghosts of joy, the ghosts of sin They gather close, they breathe him in And every flicker hums his name In tongues of shadow and of flame A candle for the clown in every mirror town The jest is gone, the mask is torn but still his spirit’s reborn He burns where dreams come down, a candle for the clown “Forgive the fool who loved the stage He only wished to feel the cage The trick, my friend, is not the art But carrying light through the dark.” The clock strikes none, the echo sighs His painted soul begins to rise Through halls of glass and fractured rhyme He walks the thread of endless time Each face he wore dissolves in flame But laughter whispers back his name The child he was, the man he’s been Meet halfway through the silver sheen A candle for the clown whose shadow wore the crown He taught the night to dream of day then softly burned away Now silence takes his vow a candle for him now The circus sleeps beneath the rain, its echoes hum a sweet refrain “Come home,” they sing, “the stage is clear Your heart’s the only audience here” And when the wax becomes the dawn His spirit hums, the play goes on Each soul that breaks, each mask that fades Inherits light the fool once made A candle for the clown still burning underground He taught us how to fall with grace To wear the dark with a smiling face And somewhere in the mirrored sound His laughter still goes ’round One flame remains when all is done One ghost becomes the rising sun The circus sleeps, the truth is found And in the ashes Light resounds

Libretto iz romana · str. 330–331

IZ ROMANA · FRAGMENT II: LAVANDINI DUHOVI

„Lavanda i dim -
dvije tišine koje se dodiruju.“

JEDNA KNJIGA. CIJELI SVIJET.

Roman koji se nastavlja
iza svojih stranica.

Kupovinom knjige otvaraš vrata
svim pojavnostima Cirkusa ogledala.

Vizualizacija knjige · naslovnica, poleđina i rikna
Pročitaj tekst s poleđine

CIRKUS OGLEDALA

fragmentarni roman o ljubavi, umjetnosti i odrazima

“Svaka pozornica je ogledalo. Svako svjetlo — ispovijed.”

Intimni i poetični roman koji spaja glazbu, filozofiju i ljubavnu priču u jedinstven doživljaj magijskog realizma — i pritom prelazi granice papira.
Leon se budi u napuštenom teatru u kojem prašina i zidovi pamte više nego ljudi. Opsjednut vlastitim odrazima, u polumraku prožetom mirisom lavande, susreće Hellen — balerinu čiji ga pokret uči da ljubav može nadživjeti i najupornije iluzije.

Njih dvoje ulaze u labirint odraza gdje vrijeme nema smjer, maske imaju dušu, a svaka rana svijetli poput krhotine stakla. Kroz trinaest simboličkih fragmenata roman istražuje granice između izvedbe i istine, maske i intime, iluzije i onoga što ostaje kada se svjetla ugase.

“Želio sam pisati o trenutku kada izvedba završi, kada umjetnik ostane sam i shvati da je maska oduvijek bila samo ogledalo.”
— Dean Clea Brkić

Cirkus ogledala je priča o ranjivosti, umjetnosti i sjenama koje nosimo, o čovjeku koji pokušava skinuti masku i ženi koja zna da istina boli, ali liječi.

Ako si se ikad zapitao tko si kad nitko ne gleda, ova knjiga šapnut će ti odgovor u tišini.

“Zavodljiv, glazben, proganjajući prvijenac. Poetičan, intiman i duboko ljudski.”

Ovo je i multimedijalno iskustvo: svako poglavlje nosi QR kod koji vodi na pripadajući YouTube videospot s glazbom za taj dio priče.

ŠTO DOBIVAŠ UZ KNJIGU

Čitaj. Skeniraj.
Gledaj. Slušaj.

Svako poglavlje tiskanog romana nosi QR kod koji vodi na pripadajući YouTube videospot s glazbom za taj dio priče. U knjizi su i QR kodovi za pristup integralnom filmu i grafičkoj noveli. Kameru svojega mobitela usmjeri prema kodu i otvori poveznicu.

  • Multimedijalni romanTiskana knjiga · tvrdi uvez · 360 stranica · A5
  • Film i albumPristup putem QR kodova: The Mirror Circus, glazbeno-scenska adaptacija albuma. Album je sadržan u filmu.
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Film, album i grafička novela dio su multimedijalnog doživljaja knjige i ne kupuju se zasebno.

MULTIMEDIJALNA KNJIGA

Cirkus ogledala

Fragmentarni roman o ljubavi, umjetnosti i odrazima Deana Clee Brkića, s QR pristupom filmu, albumu unutar filma i grafičkoj noveli.

Izdanje
Tvrdi uvez · 360 stranica
Dodatni sadržaj
Pristup QR kodovima u knjizi
Cijena
20 € / 2.360 din
+ troškovi slanja
Dostupnost
U prodaji
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Unaprijed na račun
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Knjiga se plaća unaprijed uplatom 2.360 din na račun. Podatke za uplatu dobivaš nakon upita putem kontaktnog obrasca. Nakon evidentirane uplate knjigu šaljemo Post Expressom, isključivo unutar Srbije. Troškove dostave plaća primatelj pri preuzimanju, prema cjeniku službe.

AUTOR

Dean Clea Brkić

Glazbenik. Skladatelj. Pisac.
Jedna autorska vizija, više jezika umjetnosti.

Pjevač, skladatelj, aranžer i producent koji u Cirkusu ogledala povezuje svoje glazbeno, književno i vizualno stvaralaštvo. Roman, film, album i grafička novela susreću se u zajedničkom prostoru ljubavi, umjetnosti i odraza.

“Posvećeno onima sa druge strane ogledala”

Dean Clea Brkić skladatelj je, glazbenik, pjevač, producent i tonski inženjer čija se karijera kreće između koncertnih pozornica, studijskih režija i tihih prostorija u kojima se pjesme pretvaraju u priče.

Rođen u Splitu, oblikovan bogatom zvučnom slikom i poezijom Dalmacije, više od tri desetljeća djeluje diljem regionalne glazbene scene: od frontmena Pandore i Osmog putnika do renomiranoga inženjera zvuka. Kao producent, aranžer i tonski inženjer pomagao je u gradnji zvuka mnogih drugih, ali i samostalno, kao kantautor, i dalje neprestano traga za skrivenim pulsom koji povezuje pisanu riječ i rock-glazbu.

Njegov rad često istražuje granicu između izvedbe i ispovijedi, mjesto gdje glazba postaje ogledalo, a iluzija se pretvara u istinu. Kada nije iza mikrofona i gitare na pozornici, ili iza miks-pulta ispred nje, piše, sklada i stvara u tišini, iz potrebe da se izrazi. „Cirkus ogledala” proizašao je iz ciklusa pjesama koje su se, najjednostavnije rečeno, odbijale privesti kraju pretvorivši se u roman o umjetnosti, ljubavi, refleksijama i sjećanju te o potrebi i hrabrosti da čovjek skine vlastitu masku.

Trenutno živi u Novom Sadu sa suprugom Jelenom i njihovom malenom i vjernom zoo vrtić družinom, od milja nazvanom „Dlakavci”, koja broji - četiri mačka: Willy aka Wilko Špiljko, Oliver aka Olko, Mečko aka Mečavko i Pilvester aka Pilica, tri mačje dame: Arya, Ljubica i Aska te dvije divne pasje dame: Bianca, Jack Russell terijer i mješanka Beba, uz čvrsto uvjerenje da svako živo biće nosi melodiju vrijednu pažnje i slušanja.

PRIJE NEGO ZAKORAČIŠ

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Kupuješ multimedijalnu knjigu Cirkus ogledala. QR kodovi u romanu omogućuju pristup dodatnim sadržajima: filmu koji sadrži album te grafičkoj noveli. Ti se sadržaji ne prodaju zasebno.

Kako pristupam dodatnim sadržajima?

Otvori kameru na mobitelu, usmjeri je prema QR kodu u knjizi i dodirni prikazanu poveznicu. Svako poglavlje ima QR kod za svoj YouTube videospot s pripadajućom glazbom, a knjiga sadrži i pristup integralnom filmu i grafičkoj noveli. Za otvaranje online sadržaja potrebna je internetska veza.

Kakav je odnos filma i albuma?

The Mirror Circus je glazbeno-scenska adaptacija albuma. Album je sadržan u filmu kojemu pristupaš preko QR kodova u knjizi.

Je li Cirkus ogledala samostalno djelo?

Da. U njegov svijet možeš ući bez prethodnog poznavanja drugih autorovih projekata.

Istodobno, Cirkus ogledala dio je širega autorskog svijeta — Archangel In Black Multiversa. Njegova priča ostaje zaokružena i samostalna, a s ostalim djelima povezuju je teme, simboli i pitanja koja otvaraju različite putove prema istom ljudskom iskustvu.

Archangel In Black (A.I.B.) dugogodišnji je autorski projekt Deana Clee Brkića u kojem se susreću glazba, film, književnost i vizualna umjetnost. Kroz konceptualne albume, priče i slike gradi niz međusobno povezanih svjetova, nadahnutih književnim i filmskim djelima, filozofskim pitanjima i osobnim promišljanjima. U njihovu su središtu čovjek, njegova ranjivost i proturječja te empatija, etika i humanost. Svako djelo otvara vlastita vrata u taj multivers, a Cirkus ogledala jedna je od njegovih samostalnih pojavnosti.

Mogu li već naručiti svoj primjerak?

Da, knjiga je u prodaji. Cijena je 20 € / 2.360 din + troškovi slanja. Pošalji upit putem kontaktnog obrasca kako bi dobio podatke za uplatu. Plaćanje je unaprijed na račun, u iznosu od 2.360 din. Nakon evidentirane uplate knjigu šaljemo Post Expressom, isključivo unutar Srbije. Troškove dostave plaćaš pri preuzimanju, prema cjeniku službe.

CIRKUS OGLEDALA

POZIV NA
SUSRET S AUTOROM

Književna i multimedijalna večer s Deanom Cleom Brkićem

„Svaka pozornica je ogledalo. Svako svjetlo — ispovijed.”

Kulturnim centrima, knjižnicama, udrugama, udruženjima i svima koji stvaraju prostor za susret umjetnosti i publike upućujemo poziv na suradnju u organizaciji predstavljanja „Cirkusa ogledala — fragmentarnog romana o ljubavi, umjetnosti i odrazima”, uz sudjelovanje njegova autora, glazbenika i pisca Deana Clee Brkića.

„Cirkus ogledala” intimna je i poetična priča koja kroz magijski realizam istražuje ljubav, ranjivost, identitet i granicu između onoga što pokazujemo svijetu i onoga što ostajemo kada se svjetla ugase. U napuštenom teatru, među odrazima, sjećanjima i mirisom lavande, Leon i Hellen otvaraju pitanja o maskama koje nosimo, umjetnosti koju stvaramo i bliskosti koja nas mijenja.

Posebnost djela njegov je multimedijalni oblik: roman, film, glazbeni album i grafička novela četiri su povezane pojavnosti iste priče. Knjiga putem QR kodova otvara pristup dodatnim sadržajima, a film „The Mirror Circus” glazbeno-scenska je adaptacija albuma. Riječ, zvuk, pokret i slika tako se međusobno nadopunjuju, omogućujući publici da u isti svijet uđe različitim putovima.

Susret je zamišljen kao predstavljanje djela kroz razgovor sa samim autorom — o nastanku romana, njegovim likovima i motivima te putu kojim je glazbena zamisao prerasla u književni i multimedijalni svijet. Čitanje odabranih ulomaka, pitanja publike i razgovor o odnosu umjetnosti i osobnog iskustva čine jezgru programa.

Ovisno o prostoru i dogovoru s domaćinom, večer se može obogatiti odabranim glazbenim i filmskim isječcima te prikazom ilustracija iz romana i grafičke novele. Predstavljanje može voditi moderator, a moguć je i neposredniji format u kojem autor sam uvodi publiku u djelo i otvara razgovor.

Želja je stvoriti prisnu, otvorenu večer u kojoj ima mjesta i za priču o knjizi i za pitanja koja ona ostavlja čitatelju: tko smo izvan vlastitih uloga, koliko se otkrivamo kroz ono što stvaramo i što ostaje od nas kada skinemo masku.

„Cirkus ogledala” samostalno je djelo, a ujedno pripada širem autorskom projektu Archangel In Black Multiverse, u kojem Dean Clea Brkić povezuje glazbu, film, književnost i vizualnu umjetnost. Za sudjelovanje u programu nije potrebno prethodno poznavanje projekta.

Pozivamo sve zainteresirane udruge, udruženja, organizacije, klubove i kulturne centre da se jave s prijedlogom gostovanja. Termin, trajanje, opseg multimedijalnog sadržaja te tehnički i organizacijski uvjeti dogovaraju se pojedinačno, prema mogućnostima domaćina i karakteru programa.

Za iskaz interesa i dogovor o promociji javite se putem kontaktnog obrasca na ovoj stranici.

Možda upravo vaš prostor postane mjesto jednog novog susreta — s pričom, s autorom i s vlastitim odrazom.

KONTAKT

Riječi s druge
strane ogledala.

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