Xena, modern Goddess

Posted on 26 October 2016   Artists, Interviews, News


Xena Divine

Being known to the large audience as a muse of the famous photographer Helmut Newton, could be the life achievement for anybody. When talking about Xena, it’s just an important part of her rich career, as it is her work on the film. I’ll cite some: “Nirvana”, Gabriele Salvatores, “For happiness you need three”, R. Grlic, “Hot afternoon”, M. Sesardic, “Macolata Conceptio”, where Xena was the director. She worked with: Solima, D. Risi, M. Ferreri, C. Ferrario, among the others. Then comes the theater, radio & TV, video.

Another important part belongs to the fashion industry, where she worked as the top model for Alexander McQueen, Jean-Paul Gaultier, Miyake, Versace, but she also had her own fashion house “Hermetika” in Milan, Italy, where she still lives. This is just to give you the idea about the personality you’ll get to know better.

Thanks to our long friendship I was able to ask her things you probably don’t know. The way she answered, represents her too. This explains why we’ve made this interview talking in Serbian, Croatian, Italian, and English. For the convenience, I’ve left it in English and somewhere in Croatian, to show you how cryptic she was when talking in her language, “knitting” the words I’ve used into new meanings she was giving, playing then in Italian, or being serious in English…

She simply lives her art, whether it’s her body expression, the embodiment of words, sounds, or tone volumes, it’s always a Life Energy she’s giving as a modern Goddess, creator of future worlds, bringing the meanings from the invisible into visible world, physical dimension, and the senses of other people, to give them one new, different re-birth.


Ime i prezime / Name and surname

Ime – IMAM


Datum, godina i mjesto rodjenja / Date, year and place of birth

Datum – Isti kao i Sveti FRANJO (pa počela i ja pričati s pticama)

Godina – Posijeci zaštićeni stari hrast, pa vidi

Mjesto – Tamo gdje u podzemlje se siđe i na javu dana tunelima iziđe

Drzava / State


Nacionalnost / Nationality

CRVATSKA (u jabuci sorte APPLE)

Boja kose / Hair color

VARLJIVA (kao u krimićima)

Boja ociju / Eyes color

NEUMJERENA (poput sunčevih erupcija)

Mjesto boravka / Resident in

DISNEYLAND (europski)

Adresa stanovanja / Address


Spol / Sex


Porodicni Status / Family status


Zanimanje / Profession


Posebni Znakovi / Special signs


Religion - GOOD TRIED ME Click To Tweet


Xena Beautiful

I would like if we can show the people your personal side because the artists rarely turn it to the public. I’ll take advantage of our friendship to talk not only about your incredible career but more about you through your private life, the side that is not available to the public, but it’s visible in your art. You as a child. How do you remember yourself? Where did you live? What is the first image you remember? Which flavors, colors, characters, silence you remember? Let’s go back to your childhood and follow your steps towards your glory. 

Tide, low tide, dream and reality, plunging and rising. Here, I turn to the right, at the white cypress, I have not slept. Streight to the well of Mnemosyne*, a try to remember the life, especially my life. (*The goddess of memory, mother of the Muses)

Childhood, throat watching, openly. This is the non-age, the body is small, eternally hungry, sleeping in the open air; the figure of the Greek god Eros, of wild forces. Childhood didn’t live me, I did not ask the condo-lenses; I lived some über-life bastard combination of existing and non-existent. All, filled with emptiness.

Childhood, preparing for mortality, facing eternity. Click To Tweet

Eternally evaporate mysterious fumes at Delphi, the navel of the world, while prophetess Pythia vaguely answers. I live with unsolicited non-acquaintance, the apparent knowledge of the world.

Childhood in alchemist Istria, in Labin, a town of miners. Descent into the black bosom of the earth, black sun in the heart. I was, what I will never be; beats bit somewhere noisy, under fingernails, in the high hair, and wait for my dead, recruits in the heart of my world.


Xena Rebel

What characterized that time? Was your childhood carefree? We are talking about the sixties when we lived a quiet life in a socialist “brotherhood and unity” as the frame. I used to make the theater in the courtyard of my grandparents and the audience was mainly composed of the old people from the same street. How was in your area at that time? 

…I didn’t live then…

Apples are my Ur-image, a green hospital elevator in Rijeka. Sea horizon in elevator’s vertical, hospital smell, overcasting those of I-apple (din), that are the thing in itself, in Kantian terms. Apples, were real, more real than me, my mother, my conscience and God himself. I was alone, abandoned in the Open, where apples were growing somewhere in the garden of Random Knowledge.

Jabuko, jabučice / bukni brzo /  Bukvinu crtu prekorači / bučno

Others are just characters, devoid of similarities with me, with my I, my is at-tendance.

Suće, sućevito /  sukni, bukni /  nasukaj brodicu /  rodi me nanovo / ab ovo / podari život sućan /

/ sunčan, člankovit / ja-san, nemaglovit

Where here was the place for what we call conventional love, mortally friendship, etc., etc.?

Where was the place for God, Tito and the Party, the philosophy, and glamorous nudity?

In the corner of the head, not in the brain as a whole, in slices, secretly thrown to the favorite animal.

In the particle, I waited and lived often, chaste. “I congratulate the integrity” – said the garlic and smells heavenly.

In my place, lived at the edge of consciousness, alone, the world pre-worldly, hidden lights. Watched closely my brother; he smashed the windows of the Labin, using anger, cholera of the world. I remember my brother, I remember a brother, a war in the body of his soul, which is falling apart. Honest farmers in the war, killed, farming, fall.


Xena Sinner

I see you as a high girl, taller than the others, but I don’t see you in ordinary games. Your face is almost iconic as if it were carved in stone, yet soft, while the eyes are penetrating, and this mix is amazing, you radiate, attract. Helmut Newton didn’t arrive by chance in your life. I remember those images, the light is special.

My face is not cheek, not a mask; face has for a thousand years. View, outdoor, hard on things, interior monody, devoid of illusions.

     Opsjene, opsjene / Budite hijene / Daleko od mene / Držite /

     Opsjenare prave / One, gnjevne


Xena Forever

In your surroundings, there are sea, coast, stone, sky, mine, nature, in which the crickets are singing and stones are answering. I see this as a frame to your spiritual side. Your beauty is full of peace and restlessness. What memories do you have from those days of peace? What books do you read, what movies you watch and what you dream about? What’s the music you love? With whom you hang out?

Assuage continuous unrest, measured by life tension, all in all, there is no peace.

The mind is an illusion and a mirage can not see.

In the stone and of stone you live. We actually are this petrified marriage in the story, freed of time, movement and space. Unborn, or seeded around the world.

You are forever“, shouted a stone that has never spoken.

In childhood, the writer was Mato Lovrak and I did not sleep on our laurels. I knew, “Train in the Snow“, once when stops, life certainly freeze fast, somewhere in the field, on the side. In this “strawberry fields”, was already I. Bergman and the northern rigor of life. Then, there is a Romanian E. Cioran, the cherry on the cake, indigestible. It remains forever F. Nietzsche and his last “madness sheets”, written in Turin…

Zapjevaj mi novu pjesmu / Svijet je preobražen i sva se nebesa raduju / Razapeti



Music. In this 2016 year – one is the name of David Bowie.

All deaths are unequal: some, following the Matrix by edge through particularity of the person who fostered it, do not break its form, but filled it with life. Supposed mortal, therefore, traveling the heavenly spheres, does not give in the gravity forces of the planets, but quickly sail to its own star.

David Bowie is one of them. Why tied with his Matrix recognize, I recognize blood relation, closeness, and warmth of earthly exile, un-alienation in unauthenticity of Contemporaneity, the limitlessness of space life in time peace, while the discipline of his voice, the power of music and gesture, course my being? Where did it come to you, to me, the fluidity of David, his unappeasable desire for perpetual metamorphosis? Gradually he becomes the votary, never thinking to backtrack.

David Bowie, in his constant transforming, didn’t pretend: really didn’t cheat, but again and again launching his spacecraft in the ocean of the universe, cheering so my own, your dream of excellence My and your life.

Every life is a miraculous and extraordinary, tied a red thread on the origin which escapes us. He knew how to embody it, present it, repeatedly networked WEFT of BEING. David Bowie leaves at the end of earthly life the “BLACKSTAR“.

Everything in this album thoughtfully outlined the consistent philosophy of righteous living. - Xena about Bowie Click To Tweet

It comes to my mind the movie of the American director John Carpenter, “Dark Star“.

Dark Star“, the name of the spaceship, which in an almost surreal story, falls apart because of “disobedience” one bomb in the tank, which exploded, considering itself the embodiment of God, following its unlimited Will to Power. The crew rescues and levitate in space, catching for other aircraft. So Doolittle, seasoned surfer, on one repayment that simulates a surfboard, shave through the universe, while Talby, a lover of comets, tucked in their path, going towards admired stars.

Everyone gets what most loved, that boyish deepest core of dreamy life. Just Awesomeness has the option of Truth.

David Bowie. I imagine him now levitating, after the death integrally occupied his Matrix, releasing clean his face in apocalyptic light of the earthly living, he levitates tied to the humble, favorite object of his previous life, the time between the dark, the time between the glowing stars, constantly pulsating, here in me. Forever X.

Lovers in the apple of the eye, are born and die. Click To Tweet    



Xena’s brother with Xena’s daughter


Let’s talk about love. Yes, I know you’ll say: “Val, no way.” But I know you’ll do this as a concession because your story would not be complete without talking about love, first love, from the school benches. What was it for you? 

Loneliness requires something more than what we call love. Love snotty’s state of consciousness, infantile cooing, in the electromagnetic field of total life.

Ljubav je bol na srcu mom / Ljubav je Bol na otoku Braču / Braćo, čudimo se što ljubavi gotovo nema

The death of my brother meant the destruction of the farmer, and I came out from my visual fields. Grooves are no longer correct, they are the hallucinogenic optical illusions now, in modern times, without form.


Xena - Helmut Newton

An important part of your career takes up work with Helmut Newton. What we do not know is how it came to this collaboration and how long it lasted. Tell us a little about it, that atmosphere.

Late Newton (the best are already observing us curiously from the other side) thanks to his refined female sensibility became one of the greatest discoverer of the female nature, its complex mechanism of power, which still controls most physiological processes in human life.

Newton actually elevates woman almost to her divine, archetypal role of warrior and seductress (do not be fooled by situations in which women supposedly is treated as a subject!).

In all situations, even those impossible “constructed” situations, Newton’s wife radiates through her nakedness some sort of primordial force.

From Neolithic naked Goddess – Mother on a throne surrounded by Anatolian leopards to Newton woman in fur or just naked in high heels is evident that eternal feminine, the sacred power of eros and death that keeps us so terribly bonded to Mother Earth.

June (alias Alice Springs) has discovered my wild nature: of the doe, opened, in a clearing, closed, hidden behind the trees, but always tremendously thirsty clean, pure mountain water.


This artistic atmosphere is not only you as the incarnation of beauty, but you and spirituality, you and creativity. When was Hermetika created? You had the fashion house in Milan. Reveal to us the mystery of the surreal beauty of your fashion line.

385540_2273427792054_140749120_nFashion house “Hermetika” and its production, were the natural continuation of my vision and fashion design in an elevated state of consciousness, of the world glamor. The beginnings were in Zagreb, with the fashion magician Vladimir Rudinsky.

Rudinsky, was the “Great Mother of fashion”, creative omniscient, “Sartor Divinus”. A dream of embodying “Hermetika” with him, never realized. He left me too soon and then I have never been able to find a worthy replacement. The one who took his destined place was replaced by himself and sailed away through the Baroque roads of narcissism. Strange are the roads of fashion: shine, we leave the simple roads, losing in chimeras, worlds without measure.

Hermetika was the fashion house that never took root. If Nomen Est Omen, then it is expressed with a powerful language formation, incomprehensible to everyone. And there ruled my unwritten Dépense, wastage of generously giving, assuming the inner sacrifice. It was pure creativity without the commercial boom.

Why fashion, why engage in fashion arena, where lions are always hungry, in athletic form, although devouring without measure?

* Answer: self sabotaging, waving in a constant highlighting of the menstrual awareness

* Performans: to blow all the material, to waste all that conventional

* Synthesis: anything that is hermetic, is not invisible

I lived in a “golden age” of fashion: fashion designers, fashion houses for which I worked – their names are legacy. From many of those, still unestablished and very interesting, to big, whose names remained high and preserved to this day. The most important thing was to do: move, in the density of the world, to unravel a network of wondrous shapes and they always shine, smelled heavenly and cuddling your ego: Go, Go, Baby!


Xena Book

You’re a writer and your writing has a very specific form, both in the text and in the choice of almost graphic expressions. Symbology that I see in this is deep and I’m sure it has its roots about which we could talk. What is the writing for you? What are your main themes? Why those topics?

Writing is an attempt to figure out the content, during dreaming. Sometimes it is an internal need, psychological and physical puzzle of the need of his own being growth. We grow, with the zenith of our heads to tap death matter of the stars.

Graphic expression, graphic design of omnipresence, is an exciting challenge for all of us, our aesthetic essence of being. Through graphic design, I reduce a complex picture of the world, to the grapheme, the sign, which vibrates in its smallness. This achieved, a simple little thing, is an abstraction transformed into sound and color, voice and movement, another, art-life, I guess.



You’re a performer. Your body is art in motion, your expression is always concise, full. Your being on the scene is always the conversation, interaction with the audience. You often write the text, I think first of all on the theater scene. Tell us something about your performances, such as dedicated to Carmelo Bene, or about great events and great people who organize them, Biennale, for example, as well as the big shows, like Chiambretti, stage performances in clubs, like the one where you worked together with Andi from Blue Vertigo.

I do not recognize myself in any archetype. You must literally go through all of them (like a ghost through walls) to stay awake, unstable in one’s optical field. Be Rilke’s no one’s dream and free flow like water circuit. Water leads us.

The underlying theme is Phoné, voice deeply linked to sound and vocal expression of being.

Carmelo Bene was the embodiment par excellence of a conscious and deeply thought-out concept of the human voice, height, intensity, and timbre are the elements that distinguish voices among themselves.

The concept is as follows:

  1. Rigorous central support (dynamic of diaphragm)
  2. Random selection of splice
  3. Strictly keeping tonality in game function within it

In short: it is the richness of timbre, although the color remains the same and tonality changes.

Thus disciplined voice gets the orchestral capacity full swing.

Carmelo Bene in his performances was like Demiurge who invokes the dead and makes them alive, high-frequency vibrating beings, who intensely live outside and inside play. The idea, which evokes the life and embodies the ex newly deceased Carmelo, followed by the following tenets:

  1. In “Apocalypse” or “Revelation”, the final book of the Bible, the resurrection of the dead begins to sound powerful trumpets: zadirajući the bones, he wakes up and re-formed long ago decomposed bodies.
  2. Voice of Women (Xena) and twelve male figures that may be associated with Jesus’ apostles and also the choir of ancient Greek tragedy, in a function of the Incarnation figure of C.B. and his new critical living, full of judgment and paradoxical expressions.
  3. The essence of their communication can be called “COUP DE GLOTTE”, “IMPACT (Swing) of CORDS”, which produces Explosive Consonant.


Xena and Sgarbi

Milano, Italy. Why not Munich? Why not London? Why not New York? What was so important that the city of finance could offer to make you stay in it all these years? Fashion is just one small element if we look at the city from the perspective of your interests. Shall we look at it from the perspective of people maybe? 

Milan, ancient Mediolanum, etymologically means “a place in the middle of the plains.” Did I want to simplify life and make it flat, straight and gullible? Deep in the subconscious, perhaps. My restless complexity, creased inner being, looking for simplicity, northern rigidity and work ethic, which in Milan, finds it’s natural habitat. Close to this plain, with the horizontal line of my Adriatic Sea, the horizon of my first and forever beloved place, was probably another deep, subconscious motive.

Through the plain are passing by and flowing easier people and ideas, and often dear animals. Life (život), animal (životinja) Tinja (Gleaming) / No Secrets / Once in a while just golden plenitude.

Xena Zupanic

Xena Saint

Dear tribe, follow me also on the another world. Click To Tweet

Xena Face

Xena is the name that slipped into etimology of her surname: Zupanicžupa – signified the territorial and administrative unit of a tribe /

Xena je ime koje klizi u etimologiju svoga prezimena: otuđena svijest u slobodnome padu u jamu, u šupljinu jastva. Župa, u davnini je ponor, kraj bez sunca, osoj kojega prema suncu treba prevrnuti. Jedanput prevrnut, na pripeci, osoj je prisoj, maleni, omeđeni raj vječno blage klime: župa.

Žudi za župom, ona, Xena Županić, za tim malenim prirodno omeđenim rajem, jedanput, možda dvaput u dosadašnjem životu viđenoga, tijelom taknutoga.

Iskalac svakodnevno zapalog sunca u šupljini župe, Xena je zdig i uzdig, katabaza i anabaza, JESTVINA svoga JESTVA.

Jest Xena tuđinka u Župi osoja, u Župi prisoja, u katabazianabaze i anabazikatabaze, neprepoznavajućisebe (Xena Juppanic), ona jede samu sebe, sve bogove i vragove ovoga imanentnoga svijeta.

Kolika je Xena, a ne tko je, evo pravoga pitanja, koliko je njezino protežno tijelo, koliko ga može još proždrijeti, rastrgati da došla bi do malih prirodnih granica Župe, evo pravoga odgovora, evo JESTOTE koja na koncu samo maleni je pojas u udolini, gladan i žedan i vječno osunčan.


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