Split is not an easy city to surprise in the summer. It is used to crowds, music, tourists, cameras, stages and evenings that often feel loud, fast and instantly consumable. That is precisely why events capable of stopping time in Split carry more weight than an ordinary cultural programme. Such an evening took place inside Diocletian’s Cellars, where “Coldplay on Piano”, presented as part of Imperial Concerts by Maestro Terza, showed how familiar music can be performed without a stadium, without a light show and without the need to explain itself to the audience.

One piano was enough. A pianist who understands silence as seriously as sound was enough. A space carrying the weight of centuries was enough. And so was the idea that a concert does not have to be merely a performance, but an experience. That simplicity was the source of the evening’s strength. Coldplay’s songs, which many are used to hearing through stadium euphoria, massive choruses and the collective emotion of thousands of people, took on a different form in Split. They did not lose their recognisability, but they lost the noise. What remained was their inner structure, their melody, their memory and, most importantly, the emotion that made those songs globally known in the first place.

Coldplay without a stadium: when familiar songs suddenly become personal

Coldplay is a band whose songs naturally belong to large spaces. “Fix You”, “Yellow”, “The Scientist” and “A Sky Full of Stars” live in the collective memory as songs of stadiums, lights, mass choruses and moments in which an audience becomes one great voice. Yet inside Diocletian’s Cellars, those songs passed through a completely different filter. They were no longer directed toward the crowd, but toward the individual. Each melody moved closer, almost uncomfortably close, in the way songs approach us when we once listened to them in entirely private moments.

That was the greatest value of the concert. It did not try to replace Coldplay’s stadium energy, because that would have been both impossible and unnecessary. Instead, it opened space for what is often lost inside a grand spectacle: the break inside a melody, the pause between two phrases, the silence after a familiar motif, the moment in which the audience recognises a song but no longer hears it as a crowd anthem, rather as its own memory. “Clocks” sounded tense and precise, “The Scientist” intimate and almost confessional, while “Fix You”, in that space, ceased to be a large anthem and became something far more vulnerable.

Such an effect cannot be achieved by repertoire alone. It depends on interpretation, space and measure. And measure was the key. The concert did not slide into sentimentality, did not lean on cheap nostalgia and did not try to impress the audience through external effects. Its strength lay in control, in the confidence that a familiar song can withstand being stripped down, and in the courage not to impose anything unnecessary inside a space that already carries such a strong identity.

Kamile Zaveckaite: an interpretation that did not copy Coldplay, but translated it into a new language

Lithuanian pianist Kamile Zaveckaite was the central performing force of the evening. Her biography alone speaks of a serious artistic formation: she graduated from the University of Music and Performing Arts Vienna, became the first and so far only Lithuanian artist officially representing Yamaha, has received numerous honours and is a laureate of seventeen national and international competitions in solo and chamber music. Yet in a concert of this kind, biography is only the starting point. What matters is the ability to perform familiar songs in a way that does not sound like a salon arrangement, but like an independent musical experience.

Kamile Zaveckaite achieved that with great precision. She did not try to imitate the band, did not make the piano pretend to be a guitar, a drum set or a voice, and did not turn popular melodies into decorative piano background. Her approach was far more serious: she dismantled the songs down to their emotional core and rebuilt them in the language of the piano. That is where the maturity of her interpretation became clear. “Trouble” was not merely a recognisable opening, but an inner unrest. “In My Place” was not simply a familiar song, but a recurring question. “Yellow” did not ask the audience to sing along; it asked them to remember.

After the concert, Kamile spoke to TV Wien / TV Beč. In the video accompanying this article, we bring her impressions of Split, the venue, the audience and the special nature of an evening in which the songs of a globally known band came to life in a completely different setting. Her statement adds another layer to what was felt during the performance: this was not a concert played simply “according to programme”, but a meeting between artist, space and audience in which every element had to breathe together.

Maestro Terza and an idea that can give Split new cultural weight

Behind Imperial Concerts stands Josip Terze, artistically known as Giuseppe Terza, a Croatian conductor, producer and cultural entrepreneur working between Vienna and Split. He studied conducting at the Richard Wagner Conservatory and solo singing at the Vienna Conservatory, and made his conducting debut at the age of only 26 in the Golden Hall of Vienna’s Musikverein, one of the most prestigious concert halls in the world. Throughout his career he has performed and worked in renowned European venues, including the Musikverein, the Vienna Konzerthaus and the concert hall of the Vienna Boys’ Choir.

But Imperial Concerts is important not merely as a continuation of one biography. It is important as a cultural idea. Terza’s vision is not simply to organise a concert in an attractive venue, but to create a format in which music and heritage strengthen each other. At a time when historic locations are often used merely as beautiful backgrounds for photographs, such a concept gives them a deeper function again. The space does not serve only as atmosphere. It becomes an active part of the experience.

Diocletian’s Cellars, in that sense, were not a random choice. This is a space that does not tolerate superficiality. Its architecture has seriousness, its silence has depth, and its stone does not allow something weightless to happen there. When a piano is placed inside such a space and familiar songs are performed without excess, a tension emerges that gives the concert a particular value. The audience does not listen only to what comes from the stage. It also listens to the space returning the sound.

Maestro Terza also gave a statement to TV Wien / TV Beč after the concert, speaking about the idea behind Imperial Concerts, the connection between music and heritage, and why such a project can be important for Split. His words make it clear that this was not conceived as a one-off event, but as the beginning of a broader story: a concert series capable of turning different historic and representative spaces into places of powerful cultural encounter.

A programme the audience knew, performed as if it were being discovered for the first time

The concert programme was carefully chosen. From “Clocks” and “Don’t Panic”, through “Speed of Sound”, “Trouble”, “Fix You” and “Paradise”, to “Yellow”, “The Scientist” and “A Sky Full of Stars”, the evening moved through different phases of Coldplay’s work. Yet the order of the songs did not feel like a mere sequence of hits. It felt more like an emotional dramaturgy in which familiar melodies gradually opened in a different light.

The particular power of a programme like this lies in the fact that the audience already carries its own history with these songs. Someone listened to them in youth, someone during a journey, someone in a moment of loss, someone in love, someone as the soundtrack to a private chapter of life. When such songs are performed on piano, inside a space that itself carries history, an interesting meeting takes place: the personal memories of the audience meet the collective memory of the city.

That is why “Coldplay on Piano” was not a concert dependent on how well someone understands classical music. It did not require specialist preparation or analytical listening. It required attention. And that attention was visible in the audience. At a time when concerts are increasingly watched through phone screens, this evening had a rare concentration. People were not only recording a moment. They were inside it.

Why this matters for Split

Split is a city of exceptional cultural and historical strength, but precisely because of its popularity it often risks becoming a backdrop for fast consumption. Historic spaces become settings for photographs, music becomes part of tourist noise, and events are sometimes measured more by immediate effect than by real substance. Imperial Concerts moves in the opposite direction. Its value lies not in volume, but in attention; not in mass appeal, but in the quality of the experience.

Projects like this can give a city something that cannot be measured only by visitor numbers. They can create a recognisable cultural identity that is not superficial, that does not exploit heritage but activates it, that does not bring an audience only to see something, but to experience something. That is the serious potential of Imperial Concerts by Maestro Terza. If it continues to develop programmes with the same level of thoughtfulness, Split could gain a concert series that belongs not only to the summer offer, but to the serious cultural map of the city.

“Coldplay on Piano” was the first proof that this idea can work. It did not rely on the superficial effect of a popular name, even though Coldplay is enough to attract attention. It did not rely solely on the beauty of the venue, even though Diocletian’s Cellars are strong enough to carry an event on their own. It succeeded because all elements came together in measure: the programme, the performer, the space, the organisational vision and an audience willing to listen.

An evening that showed what culture looks like when it does not underestimate the audience

Perhaps the most important message of the evening was that audiences should not be underestimated. They do not always need a bigger sound, stronger lights, a shorter format and faster consumption. Sometimes they need space, silence and a seriously conceived programme. Audiences recognise that. They recognised it in Split.

When the final note faded, there was no quick, automatic return to everyday life. A moment of held breath remained, the kind of brief silence that often says more than applause. Only after that did the space fill with approval. It was a sign that the concert had reached what is hardest to reach: not only the ear, but the inner space of the listener.

Imperial Concerts by Maestro Terza began in Split with an event that has all the elements of a story capable of growing: a strong concept, serious performers, a distinctive space and a clear idea that music is not only a programme, but an encounter. In Diocletian’s Cellars, Coldplay did not lose its popularity. It gained depth. Split did not serve merely as host. It became a co-author of the evening.

That is why this evening will not be remembered as just another concert in the summer calendar. It will be remembered as the moment when a global repertoire entered the deepest layer of Split’s history and, without grand words or unnecessary spectacle, found a new meaning there.

Zoran / TV Wien