We are publishing the original text “Radical Optimism from a Kosovar Hill” by director Tara Manić, first released on September 4 in Nedeljnik. Tara wrote the text upon her return from Pristina, where, as part of our Kosovo–Serbia Visiting Program, she attended a concert of today’s major pop star — Dua Lipa. We are sharing the text in full.
In the first week of August, with a group of friends and colleagues from Heartefact, and thanks to the Kosovo–Serbia visit program, I went to a concert of today’s favorite pop star—and a woman of the most conscious kind of sex appeal—Dua Lipa, at the Sunny Hill festival near Pristina. The festival, founded through her family foundation, focuses on mental health, encouraging young people to respect their own and others’ boundaries and personal space, to avoid mixing alcohol with psychoactive substances, to look out for others, and to respect others’ “no.” The campaign proved highly effective, as the predominantly young audience was sensitized and enjoyed, above all, the music.
Although the festival in many ways exceeded the tourist capacities of Pristina (which led to a total collapse of internet and traffic in the city), it was welcomed with open arms by local taxi drivers, who happily profited from it, singing Lipa’s songs as they drove you around.
My preparation for such a concert wasn’t only logistical but also ritualistic: it involved learning the choreographies, doing makeup and dressing inspired by the star (with YSL makeup, for which Dua Lipa is the face), a MATES outfit resembling one of her stage looks, and constant listening to her songs in the days leading up to the show, while guessing what she would open with.
The concert had a clear dramaturgy in several acts, each bringing costume and genre shifts. Alongside Dua Lipa was her full band and top-tier dancers — with arrangements of modern female “anthems” designed specifically for this tour, inspired by 1980s pop music and aerobics culture. She opened the concert with Training Season in a white bodysuit with crystals and feather choreography (echoing Sally Rand’s burlesque acts from the 1930s) — including moments where she descended into the crowd and addressed them in Albanian. The second act brought vocally demanding numbers and high-energy hits (Physical, Electricity, Hallucinate, Illusion, Love Again) in a ruby-red bodysuit by Giuseppe di Morabito (reportedly “encrusted with over a million Red Siam micro-crystals”) and Jimmy Choo boots, with pyrotechnic effects. In the final act, she performed her biggest hits — Be the One, New Rules, Don’t Start Now, and as the climax — Houdini — in a black Chanel bodysuit, a reinterpretation of a 1992 haute couture dress (also worn by Penélope Cruz in Almodóvar’s Broken Embraces), paired with black Louboutin boots. Her signature wet-look hair, subtle makeup, and handcrafted bodysuits have become her trademark.
The concert was a carefully composed spectacle: with a dynamic setlist, costume changes, infectious choreographies performed with athletic ease, lighting design that transformed the space, monumental stage design in the shape of a chrome infinity sign, flawless sound, and an ecstatic audience. The emotional peak came when, instead of a “local cover,” she chose the song Era by the 1990s Kosovar band Oda — performing it as a duet with her father, Dukagjin, the former frontman of that group. In that moment, the concert turned into a shared emotional experience between daughter and father, family and audience, but also with Pristina itself.
Dua Lipa, once criticized early in her career for “unconvincing live performances,” now proves that her concerts can be highly aestheticized, thrilling productions celebrating strength, sex appeal, freedom, and the right to choose of a young thirty-year-old woman. And, as the name of the tour itself says — today, nothing remains for us but radical optimism.