GG Žagar

Jan Žagar keeps ninety hives across the Slovenian hills, painted in the traditional folk panels his grandfather taught him to brush, and sells honey from a roadside cupboard that runs on an honesty box. The bees require slowness and he is not a slow man. What he does in the evenings is the opposite of the day: quick, high-volume games, one after another, decisions made at speed because he has spent nine hours making none. He is dry about all of it and says almost nothing. The patience, he reckons, is a work skill. He has no intention of letting it become a personality.