An Interview With The Curator Of A Museum Of Broken Relationships
A suitcase, a wedding dress, a set of keys, a child’s toy: in another context, these objects might seem ordinary. Inside the Museum of Broken Relationships, they become evidence of attachment, rupture, memory, and the strange physical afterlife of love. Each item arrives with a story, offered by someone who has decided that a private ending can become part of a larger human archive.
Founded in Zagreb by Olinka Vištica and Dražen Grubišić, the museum has grown into an international project shaped by donations from people around the world. Its collection does not sort heartbreak into neat categories. Romantic separations sit beside family conflict, friendship breakups, migration, grief, and relationships that changed before anyone was ready to name the change.
Mass Musings spoke with the museum’s curator about collecting emotional histories, protecting the people behind the objects, and creating a gallery where visitors can recognize themselves without needing to explain their own past.
A Collection Built From Endings
Mass Musings: What makes an object worthy of entering this collection?
Curator: The object does not need to be rare, beautiful, or traditionally valuable. What matters is that it carries a relationship. A broken relationship leaves traces, and sometimes the most honest trace is something completely mundane: a mug, a ticket, a piece of clothing, a household tool. Its emotional importance is invisible until the story gives it shape.
The museum began with a personal breakup, but it became meaningful because visitors and contributors understood the wider idea. People keep physical reminders of love and loss because objects can hold experiences that language struggles to contain. When someone donates an item, they are making a decision about what to release, what to preserve, and what might be understood by a stranger.
Mass Musings: Does the museum collect heartbreak, or does it collect transformation?
Curator: Both. Heartbreak is often the first layer visitors notice, but the deeper subject is change. A relationship can end while its influence continues. The object may represent anger, relief, tenderness, embarrassment, freedom, or several emotions at once. We do not ask contributors to resolve the story before they send it to us.
What An Object Can Hold
The museum’s power comes from the distance between the object and its meaning. A visitor may pass a familiar-looking item and then encounter a short testimony that alters its scale completely. A pair of shoes can become a record of abandonment. A kitchen appliance can signify years of domestic life. A stuffed animal can carry the ache of a childhood separation.
Mass Musings: How do you work with stories that are deeply personal?
Curator: With restraint. We want the contributor’s voice to remain present, but we do not want to turn pain into spectacle. The stories are edited for clarity and length, never to make them more dramatic. Sometimes the most powerful account is brief. A single sentence can suggest an entire life together.
We also remember that every story has more than one person inside it, even when only one person has donated the object. That creates an ethical responsibility. The museum is not a courtroom, and the collection is not designed to establish who was right. It is a place for one person to describe what an experience meant to them.
The Ethics Of Displaying Intimacy
Curating emotional material requires a different kind of attention than arranging objects by period, medium, or market value. The team must consider anonymity, consent, translation, cultural context, and the possibility that an item could be recognized by someone connected to the story. The gallery label is small, but the decision behind it can be complex.
Mass Musings: How do you preserve intimacy without making visitors feel that they are intruding?
Curator: We invite reflection rather than voyeurism. The stories are presented with enough context to create connection, but they do not give visitors everything. A little mystery can be respectful. The contributor does not owe the public a complete explanation.
The museum also gives people permission to have different reactions. Some visitors cry, some laugh, some become quiet, and some feel uncomfortable. Humor is part of heartbreak, just as anger can exist beside love. We do not want to dictate the correct emotional response. A museum should leave room for complexity.
| Museum Element | What It Offers | Curatorial Consideration | Visitor Experience |
|---|---|---|---|
| Donated object | A tangible link to a past relationship | Preserve its personal meaning without overexplaining it | Recognition, surprise, or emotional distance |
| Written testimony | Context, voice, and emotional detail | Protect anonymity and retain the contributor’s tone | A private story becomes a shared encounter |
| Anonymous display | Freedom from public identity | Prevent unnecessary exposure or identification | Focus on the experience rather than the person |
| Diverse collection | A broader picture of love and loss | Avoid presenting one cultural model as universal | Discovery of experiences beyond one’s own |
| Gallery setting | Space for pause and reflection | Balance accessibility with emotional sensitivity | Conversation, silence, and personal memory |
From Private Grief To Shared Recognition
One reason the museum resonates across borders is that it does not require visitors to share the same customs or relationship history. A donated object may come from a culture unfamiliar to the viewer, yet the feelings surrounding it can still be legible. The collection creates an unusual form of community: people meet through vulnerability without necessarily meeting one another.
Mass Musings: What do visitors often discover about themselves in the galleries?
Curator: They may realize that they are still carrying something they believed they had discarded. They may also see that healing does not always mean forgetting. Some people come looking for proof that their own response is normal. Others come because they are curious about the lives of strangers. Many leave with a more generous understanding of their own past.
That generosity matters in creative life too. Artists, performers, and makers often work with memory while navigating physical or emotional limits. A conversation on pain can reveal how personal difficulty becomes part of a practice without becoming the whole identity of the person making the work. The museum offers a similar distinction: a broken relationship can shape someone without defining them.
Curation As An Act Of Care
The curator’s role extends beyond selecting objects. It involves listening carefully, making choices about placement and language, and understanding when a story needs more protection. In this collection, care is a method of interpretation. The goal is not to make every object equally accessible, but to let each one retain its particular emotional temperature.
Mass Musings: Has the collection changed the way you understand relationships?
Curator: It has made me less interested in simple endings. People often say a relationship is over, but that can mean many things. The contact may stop, while the memory remains. A person can feel grateful and hurt at the same time. The objects teach us that emotional life does not follow a clean timeline.
They have also made me attentive to the dignity of ordinary things. We tend to think that meaningful stories require exceptional events. Often, the opposite is true. A familiar object can become a container for years of care, routine, conflict, and hope. That is why visitors respond so strongly: they see that their own everyday belongings may be carrying more than they realized.
How To Meet The Collection Thoughtfully
A visit can be emotional, amusing, or unexpectedly quiet. There is no required mood, and there is no obligation to read every label. Visitors can create a more meaningful experience by allowing the collection to unfold at its own pace.
- Move slowly enough to read the stories behind the objects.
- Notice your first reaction before deciding what an item “means.”
- Make room for humor, anger, tenderness, and discomfort.
- Avoid comparing one person’s loss with another person’s loss.
- Write down an object from your own life that still carries a relationship.
The museum’s curatorial approach also offers a useful lesson for anyone telling personal stories: specificity creates connection. A generic account of sadness may pass quickly, while one concrete object can open a much larger emotional world. The item gives the audience somewhere to stand.
That may be the collection’s most lasting achievement. It transforms separation into a form of encounter. A visitor arrives expecting to look at remnants of other people’s lives and leaves aware of their own archive of attachments. The museum does not repair relationships, but it gives their remains a place to be seen.
Visit the Museum of Broken Relationships with patience, bring attention to the stories behind the objects, and let one small artifact stay with you after you leave. Then share the experience with someone who understands that creativity, memory, and connection often begin with the things we thought we had already put away.