Shira Wolfe '13 Discusses Her New Book 'Jugoslovenska Kinoteka'

Alumni

Photocredit: Iaroslav Iakubivskyi

Shira Wolfe '13 is a poet, writer, and translator. Her creative journey spans multiple countries, languages, and disciplines, drawing inspiration from her experiences in Belgrade, Berlin, and Amsterdam. Shira’s poetry collection, Jugoslovenska Kinoteka, will be published by The New Menard Press and a book launch will be held later this month. In this interview, she shares insights into her creative process, the themes behind her work, and her passion for connecting people through language, art, and storytelling.

Your poetry collection Jugoslovenska Kinoteka captures a deeply cinematic journey through Belgrade and the Balkans. Could you share how your experiences there shaped the themes and imagery of your work?


I moved to Belgrade in 2016 to finish my MA in International Performance Research, which began with a semester at Warwick University, followed by Trinity College Dublin and the University of the Arts Belgrade. I remember very clearly how I felt instantly at home in that city. It was an interesting experience because I didn’t know anyone there yet, and I didn’t have any ties to the place or the region either. But everything about the city—its energy, its culture—spoke to me deeply. The musician Nick Cave once said that sometimes a city chooses you, not the other way around. That’s how it felt to me.

The themes and imagery in my work are very much tied to my relationshjip to the city as a character in itself. Later of course, I met many incredible people who shaped Belgrade, and other places I got to know, even more for me. Still, I would say that just as much of the focus in my writing is on the cities and places themselves—the details that make them what they are: the sculptures, the streets, the bars. For example, I discovered the sculptures of Croatian and Yugoslav sculptor Ivan Meštrović in Belgrade. His work became very important to me, and his sculptures, along with many others in the city, were my places of refuge. You’ll find that they reappear in my writing.

After living in Belgrade, I moved to Berlin and later back to Amsterdam, and of course, so much has changed in the world since. While I was finishing my book, I felt at times that I was being split between the past and the present, trying to stay true to my observations and feelings from back then, while also approaching some things with my understanding of today. In the end, it captures a particular period and place which no longer exist as such, and in this way will remain. Just as cinema and photography, literature and poetry can have this function.

The book launch for Jugoslovenska Kinoteka will be held at Perdu in Amsterdam on Thursday, January 30th at 8PM. Shira will discuss the book with her publisher and Tijana Zakula, University College Utrecht Assistant Professor of Art History.

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As a poet, writer, and translator working in multiple languages, how do you navigate and explore the intersection of language, identity, and creativity?

I was raised bilingually with Dutch and English but feel most comfortable and free writing creatively in English. Over the years, I’ve developed a fascination for multilingual work, combining languages or translating my own work from English to Dutch or Serbian (Serbian is the official language I learned while living in Belgrade; however, Bosnian, Croatian, Montenegrin, and Serbian are mutually intelligible, with occasional differences in pronunciation and vocabulary). I’m very particular about the way a piece sounds in each language, so if possible, I prefer to translate my work myself.

I wrote Jugoslovenska Kinoteka in English and then decided to translate it into Serbian. After I finished the Serbian translation, I asked Marko Mladenović, a Belgrade-based literary translator, to edit my translation. He offered suggestions, and for the final stage, we discussed translation choices until we arrived at this joint translation.

Unconventional language learning has always played an important role in my creative exchanges. For example, I spent a month in the West Bank in Palestine in 2015 to act in a play with The Freedom Theatre, directed by former visiting UCU professor Bryan Reynolds. As the only actor in the group who didn’t speak Arabic, I learned my lines phonetically, practicing the pronunciation with the Palestinian actors. Learning Arabic on stage connected me to the language in a far more visceral way than if I’d started learning by the book. During my first year in Belgrade, I learned basic Serbian simply by paying attention to the conversations around me. By immersing myself and asking questions, I gradually understood more and more, later solidifying my knowledge with lessons. Then I began writing and giving creative workshops in Serbian. Not worrying about perfection helped me learn the language better and encouraged creative freedom.

At the moment, I’m learning Ukrainian, the language of my partner. Since some of my ancestors are from Ukraine, it feels like I’m connecting with them, too. I hope very much to be able to write in Ukrainian someday. For me, working in multiple languages is always about building bridges.

Teaching poetry to young people in an asylum seekers’ center must offer profound perspectives. How has this work influenced your writing or broader outlook on art and life?


The work I do with Stichting De Vrolijkheid in the Netherlands is a beautiful form of connection through creativity. It offers light amid the difficult situations faced by people seeking asylum. Most of all, it’s about enjoying the artistic process.

When I started giving poetry workshops, I knew that choosing to work with language could be a challenge, but I was sure we could use the strength of multilingualism in the group to create a space of freedom, fun, and possibilities. For each workshop, I start by emphasizing that everyone can choose which language they want to write in, and that they can also switch between languages. I then ensure that the poems and stories they write appear in three languages: their mother tongue, Dutch, and English. I think this is important because people who have fled their country and find themselves in a foreign asylum system suddenly have to learn a new language and customs. This can make them feel as though parts of their identity are unwelcome. In my workshops, I want people to take pride in their own language and write in a way that feels comfortable.

This work also teaches me repeatedly the value of taking time for basic human interactions. I will spend extra time outside my workshop hours if I realize this is necessary, which always fosters trust and inclusion. It seems to me that many people these days only share their time with others if sufficient financial remuneration is promised, which I fear will ultimately lead to a serious loss of humanity.

From poetry to translation to art writing, your career spans many forms of creative expression. How do these practices inform one another, and what drives your creative process?


As I mentioned, translation is an integral part of my creative process. I feel a responsibility to connect with the languages and cultures of the countries I spend time in and to translate not only words but also culture and art. That’s what art writing was for me—a natural extension of my love of art (I also studied Art History at UCU), writing, and my interest in people. It’s something I could do wherever I lived. I learned a lot from interviewing artists about their artistic processes, and I’ve always enjoyed creating spaces to connect people and promote special artists I discovered in different countries, whether by introducing like-minded people to one another, organizing cultural events, or writing articles.

When it comes to poetry, I love its boundless freedom. It can intersect with so many different art forms. For example, my MA dissertation project was a thesis accompanied by a poetry film I made about Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish. A new version of the film was screened at the Palestinian Film Festival Amsterdam in 2024.

Lastly, to return to Jugoslovenska Kinoteka, this book is a hybrid work—poetry as prose or prose as poetry—with many references to cinema, art, music, literature, poetry, and translation. For me, these forms and themes are constantly intersecting.

About Shira

Shira Wolfe is a Dutch-American poet, writer and translator based in Amsterdam, whose work is situated within a multilingual space. Through organisation De Vrolijkheid, she teaches poetry at an asylum seekers centre in Leersum, the Netherlands, and she has previously worked extensively with refugee communities in Belgrade, Serbia. She is a translator and editor for the publication series Archival Textures, and has written articles about the art world for various publications, including Artland Magazine and Metropolis M. Her debut collection of poetry, Jugoslovenska Kinoteka, will appear in January 2025 with The New Menard Press. 

Shira Wolfe Website