Few buildings in Zagreb are safe from the meaningless defacement of sloppy grafitti tags, or, as one local artist describes them “territorial pissings.” A short walk away from the Roosevelt and Marshal Tito Squares in the center of the city, where some of the only unspoiled structures are situated, lies a place that looks nothing like its surroundings, but embraces its unique position.

Medika was once a medicine factory. Left abandoned after it closed down, squatters occupied the space for some time before it became the alternative cultural centre of the Croatian capital. The former pharmaceutical plant now houses a gallery, café, club, juggling workshops, and art studios, along with a few tenants who live there. Large images control its façade, painted by local artists whose graffiti makes beautiful sense on the unprepossessing buildings that make up this important expressive hub.

In 2010, a group of newly graduated students from the Academy of Fine Arts in Zagreb were granted studio space in Medika. They’ve been slowly cooking up an art storm since then.

“We started by holding our first exhibition in April of 2011, entitled ‘Neue kroatische Kunst,’ which literally means art done by new artists, some of whom were from the Academy,” said Stipan Tadić, one of the painters involved in the collective since its inception.

The showcase was a success: 100 artists were given the opportunity to display their work to hundreds of viewers who visited their studio at Medika. “It’s always a party and the atmosphere is great,” added Tadić.

Tadić, who deals primarily with traditional media and portraiture, has points out a problem with the way artists communicate in the city. “I find it interesting that there have been many drifts in the past little while among young artists and it has created a ‘scene’ in the sense that you have a rich repertoire of artists, but depending on personal taste you can choose what you want to watch.

The problem is that artists rarely work in groups and limit themselves to small communities. It may be time that we change that, so that it produces positive competition, as opposed to negative.”

This past month, the young artist and his studio-mates hosted ANTISALON in response to an exhibit held every other year in Zagreb called Youth Salon. “Those kinds of exhibits are great,” noted Tadic, “but unfortunately, the same people always come through and it becomes quite monotonous, and that is why we decided to make ANTISALON happen, which is meant to positively rival the institution and its rigid rules.”

There was no selection process, nor were there any requirements that dictated what could be shown. Any artist who had interest in displaying their work was given the opportunity to do so.

The community gains its vitality not only through the art they produce, but through how they produce it. Sharing a space as private as a studio and fostering the art scene in the city by extending opportunities to other painters is a form of art in itself. If those involved in the community don’t care about it, who will?