texts-metinler

"The Suburbs, a Battle of the Curators, and a Long Night" for "Waking up from the Nightmare of Participation" edited by M. Miessen & N.V. Kolowratnik

2011-10-27T04:41:00.000-07:00

The Suburbs, a Battle of the Curators, and a Long Night

I had been listening to the same song all day on the repeat button, “The Suburbs” (Arcade Fire, 2010), and when I landed at Dubai Airport it was still running on my headphones. By listening to it, I could feel the teen angst of white trash kids with a little bit of Larry Clark`s erotic impulse, Ken Loach`s social aggression, and Hanif Kureshi`s narrative quality. The company of the song became absolutely challenging when we arrived at the highway running from Dubai to Sharjah. It did not feel like we were moving from one city to another, but was more like we were going to the suburbs from the city center.

Later, the cab driver told me about the rush hours on this highway. Due to the high rents in Dubai, most people who work in Dubai live in Sharjah, just because they can afford better accommodation there. So, I was not wrong in my feelings… They are two different cities or emirates, ruled by different governments, but they are also becoming one city together for many who work in one and sleep in the other. A few days later I met Hassan Sharif in Abu Dhabi when I was visiting his monographic exhibition, and talked about his early works from 1980s. In one of his drawings he shows how he calculated the number of oil drums one needs to drive from Dubai to Sharjah, and also made a sculpture that looks like a pop-art-ish kind of oil drum as a gesture at an example. His vision of calculating this specific distance between the two emirates still survives today, when one looks at how they are socially, economically and historically connected to each other, especially due to their historical relationship and urban development.

For me, this distance was not only composed of time and speed, but also operated as “time-out” to question how my participation, contribution and attendance at an art event were shaped during the opening week of the 10^th Sharjah Biennial. The main reason for my visit to the United Arab Emirates was my engagement with the March Meeting, which was also part of the professional program of the biennial that was happening almost at the same time with Art Dubai. Thus many visitors went to both events, moving back and forth between the two emirates. How we scheduled ourselves was related with our lifestyles.

Most of the residents who work in Dubai go to Sharjah in the evening to sleep. Most of us who were connected to the biennial were working in Sharjah and later going to Dubai for social life, just the other way around from how the local labor force is mostly organized there. As a critical observation of the situation that we were all in, the art crowd moved between these cities based on the accessibility of alcohol.

As the travel guide says, Sharjah is a "dry emirate", which means the sale or possession of alcohol within Sharjah is almost entirely forbidden. Most of the biennial program was organized around this social reality. We were given official lifts to the events of Art Dubai, for the parties organized by the art fair, so art people could have free alcoholic drinks. This was the main topic of the art crowd during the opening days of Sharjah Biennial: how to get to Dubai, with whom, for which party... I am aware of the social aspects of art life, and I also enjoy parties and dancing, but I was a bit disappointed about the fact that while there were many people there connected with the region, and it was a good opportunity to talk about what had been happening recently in Middle East, we never really arrived at a moment when things moved into a satisfying social discussion after the structured sessions, because there was always an anxiety in the air about catching the biennial buses to Dubai.

It might sound very dramatic, and the situation was obviously related to a specific context, but at the end of the day, openings as events for making exhibitions public still seem to operate similarly in almost every art context. The professionals are conditioned to be ready with their product for the opening day, and then they meet the art community and personal circles. The regular visitor who is not invited to or expected for the opening comes to the show after the opening, and rarely meets the professionals. Thus they mostly see the information desk, guards, or institutional reps. The intense discussions and ideas that bring the shows together happen during preparation and installation, and this form of production experience is not readily reflected in either the work or the audience.

Openings are mostly celebrations related to Western forms of social gatherings. Cheers! Moreover, they subsequently dominate the perception of the projects, considering how other professionals are involved. Most of the time the celebration becomes the main focus, and the content is mostly missing on occasions when the main discussion is just excluded from the table. During biennials there is a fever of networking and consuming social occasions, to meet new people or refresh contacts. This form of social life among the cultural managers blinds professionals, who can hardly focus on the works presented or envision potential discussions. A biennial like that in Sharjah should have taken its peripheral position as a practical base, to connect the global agenda to a current local context with social and political concerns. This might have opened a way for discussing why no one asked the curators of the show about the censorship issue, and why everyone was concerned about the position of the director who was fired by the Sheikh, the city-state`s ruler.

The installation from the collective Slavs and Tatars as part of the 10^th Sharjah Biennial might be an inspiration for how the local context and the cultural forms of social gatherings can be adapted into contemporary forms of presentation. As the final station in their ongoing project “Friendship of Nations: Polish Shi’ite Showbiz” the collective started from the city’s history of commerce, and created a social environment composed of a tent, seating area and tea service transmitting their research. It was covered with colorful stitched messages, slogans and new aphorisms from the Polish resistance movement and the Iranian revolution, such as “Help the Militia: Beat Yourself Up!” or “Only Solidarity and Patience will secure our victory” -translated into Farsi. Rather than looking like a biennial venue, their spot was immediately filled with locals and children from the area, and provided connection with the local context.

One project that recently happened in Berlin was an interesting example in terms of twisting the idea of opening day and developing another way of communication with the audience. “The Battle of the Curators” at a local gallery called Grimmuseum, in Kreuzberg, Berlin, invited its visitors to vote for the better presentation of the same artist list by two different curators, Aaron Moulton and Carson Chan. During the opening people were looking at the works via two different maps, and trying to guess which curator installed which show, to vote as their favorite. It motivated the audience to deal with the puzzle design, and created an intense circulation that questioned the curatorial approaches. One might criticize the 'battle' for its focus: rather than the art works and their content, the curating was the center of attention. The audience will likely remember the names of the curators better than the artists or the works.

The presentation that I assumed to be curated by Carson intentionally positioned a piece at its center, creating the whole narration around it as an architectural gesture, whereas the other (I guess, from Aaron) was trying to keep critical distance from each piece and playing a neutral role in presenting them. In the end, there was no clear position for me to vote for my favorite curatorial work; one dominated the artistic statements by composing a meta-form or meta-language, and the other lacked the power or passion to connect the relationships among the contents. Nevertheless, the scene on the opening night was satisfying in terms of how the audience's behavior was supposed to change.

Rather than drinking and smoking outside of the gallery, people were moving from one show to the other, and were concerned about the ideas behind the installations. Including the audience in the game was a smart gesture, and also an unexpected way of interacting with the public. Most of the time the viewer is not invited to make direct comments on the works, or not integrated into the process as direct participants or contributors. The idea behind “The Battle of the Curators” provided an opportunity for establishing an alternative relationship with the audience. The audience became a sort of gambler betting on the game, which connects the audience to some rules, regulations, and responsibilities. It was openly proposing to share the values that would be produced by the show. It was more than an opening party.

When I was visiting the Frankfurt Kunstverein as curator in residency, Chus Martinez, who was directing the program at that time, asked me to investigate why the Turkish / Kurdish community seemed to have so little interest in coming to their openings. There had been some attempts to bring them in to the space, but none of these proved particularly successful. Once when I was talking with a Turkish taxi driver in the city I asked him if he knew about the art museums and galleries in Frankfurt. He knew about most of them, but never thought of going because, no matter what was hanging on the walls, “they just drink wine”. As an outsider looking in, that was the only thing happening as the main event. Since he was not into wining, or a social environment of that sort, he never felt like going there.

It was then that I really started to question the roots of the dominant rituals of contemporary art culture from a cultural perspective, in terms of how they function, and by/for whom they are mostly organized. A social critique is also related to how it happens, and the dynamics of its social time. But serving raki[1] would not be a better way to bring the Turkish community to the opening. For instance, Tanas, a privately owned gallery in Berlin that mostly shows artists from Turkey, serves raki during its openings, and it is visibly clear that it does not work there. Apart from the art scene, I haven’t seen any one from the local community. It doesn't ring a bell with the public to bring in the community, or make it more interesting for regular attenders. It is also against the nature of the drink, since you mostly drink raki when sitting around a table and chatting. This gesture on the part of the gallery strikes me as some kind of Orientalist idea or an exotic fantasy of Turkey.

A recent experience in Stuttgart could also make an interesting contribution to our discussion in terms of how alternative forms of exhibition/presentation can challenge audience behavior. After I started to develop the program for Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, as the new artistic director I was interested in using the opportunity of participating in the big event, “Lange Nacht der Museen” in Stuttgart to challenge its inter-institutional framework and its impact on the audience. For this event all the art institutions and spaces stay open till late, and the audience circulates among these organizations all night long.

As a result of discussions with the team and reviewing observations from previous years, we came to some open conclusions about the situation. The typical Lange Nacht der Museen audience moves from one place to another in crowds, and really stays only a very short time at each; the groups come into the gallery, scan everything quickly, and leave in minutes. Their expectation were based on the motivation of consuming as much of each art event as possible in the same evening. So, the dilemma was related with another form of entertainment: people who would have been watching TV at home were coming to see the shows, and were moving between art spaces as if they are zapping between TV channels.

As an invited curator, Viktor Neumann from Berlin developed a video-screening program, “Our Darkness”, that started at 7:00 p.m. and continued till 3:00 in the morning. It was designed in different chapters that focused on conceptions of art and the museum, transformation of the global society and human relationships, social reality and media, body and gender politics and some other topics. The sequence of the video works might almost have been considered as a send-up of the television world, in which the evening news, prime time, films, sports, eroticism, etc., play different roles and have special times, schedules and audience strategies.

The visitors who were coming in groups for the Lange Nacht der Museen were confronted by two screens and the presence of a different type of audience. This audience were lying on comfortable pillows, carefully watching the screens. They looked like they had a different feeling about the space. In this setting, what is offered to the audience is something different than they were expecting, something like what they left at home: TV, since you can never watch all the TV channels at the same time.

Each would remember different moments from the whole performance. As an event aimed at reconstructing the political conscious, the screening either frustrated its audience, who were not able to consume the whole content, or it convinced them to stay till the end. The motivations behind moving in the opposite direction for the local visitor, as opposed to biennial visitor - party monster and social networker all in one – or getting lost in a puzzle that presents a tension like a boxing match called “The Battle of the Curators”, or getting angry with a program that runs the whole night when you expect to turn around some paintings, sculptors and `hot chicks`, are endless. The questions become clearer when we also consider how we construct our relationships and propose a dialogue with our audience.

[1] [1] A non-sweet, anise-flavored spirit popularly consumed in Turkey, Bulgaria, Greece, Albania, Bosnia and other Balkan countries as an apéritif, in particular with seafood and mezze.

This text was written for the book project "Waking up from the Nightmare of Participation" edited by M. Miessen & N.V. Kolowratnik and printed by Expodium as part of EXPOTHESIS, series in art research and public space

The Village of Exception, Nilbar Güreş / OPEN PHOTO BOOTH 2011

2011-10-11T02:33:00.000-07:00

Nilbar Güreş, Open Photo Booth, 2011,

FRIEZE FRAME Courtesy of the artist and Rampa

The Village of Exception

A short introduction

This text was written during the summer of 2011 in collaboration with Vienna based artist Nilbar Güreş. Her new project, “Open Phone Booth” (2007-2011), has been in development for some time and is still a work in progress. The work will be shown at Frieze Frame during October 2011. Following is the story, the artistic research and the discussions that have led up to Güreş’ new work:

The project was born out of Güreş´s occasional visits to her father`s hometown, a Kurdish and Alevi (an ethno-religious minority in Turkey) village in East Anatolia. The village is severely lacking in infrastructure: there is no school or hospital, water shortage and power cuts are part of daily life, and there is still no telephone network in the village. Eight other Alevi villages in the region suffer from similar problems.

At first Güreş was unsure about how to approach the situation, she witnessed the living conditions of her relatives, and shared the everyday reality with them. Güreş could not decide how to cope with her desire to make this picture public, all the while sensing the social gap between her position and the villagers’ and questioning how to help them on a practical level. Rather than a socially engaged art project or social responsibility campaign, she has taken a critical approach and decided to focus her work on the creative and practical solutions that the villagers devised on their own over time.

One of the most drastic changes in their lives has been the advent of communication technologies. A telephone network was introduced during the 1970`s but villagers had to go to the village headman’s office to make a phone call. Though a phone network was promised and the villagers paid the required fees, the village still remains without a telephone network. In 2005, villagers began to benefit from new communication technologies, and most use mobile phones. Though connectivity has been limited in the valley, they are finally able to connect with the rest of the world.

Güreş’ work focuses on the gap between the current picture, controlled by the state, and the direction of global changes. The mobile phone industry as a global force introduced mobility in access to communication. The three screen video installation “Open Phone Booth” (2010-2011) is about this tragicomic reality. It shows the villagers climbing up the hills in order to make phone calls, and their attempts to catch phone reception. The villagers, at different ages and in different groups, are filmed during different seasons of the year. Sometimes in snowstorms or sunny blue skies, sometimes alone or with company. One who wants to contact the rest of the world from this village has to struggle for access to communicate. The seasons, the light, and the landscape change in the film; some conversations take longer, and sometimes the connection is desperately lost, but up in the hills the villagers are always free to call.

In the State of Exception

When we look at the zeitgeist and the setting of the Kurdish-Alevi village in East Anatolia, the political panorama of the imagery is evident. At the same time that Güreş worked on “Open Phone Booth” Turkey’s news media became dominated by stories of the enormous number of losses among the Turkish army due to the war with PKK (a Kurdish organization which has since 1984 been fighting an armed struggle against the Turkish state for an autonomous Kurdistan), also known as Kurdish Workers’ Party. The political atmosphere in the country has long been manipulated by patriotic discourses and nationalistic arguments against peace. Every Kurdish citizen can be considered a potential suspect and therefore can face discrimination by the State. The polarity in the political atmosphere of the country creates tension in the public sense, and people who demand peace have less of a voice in the mass media.

Güreş decided to zoom in on the fundamental aspects of everyday life of the villagers in “Open Phone Booth”. Güreş` interest in connecting us with the village is an artistic gesture with political consciousness. Moreover, her perspective on the village opens a critical window for us in terms of imagining how the villagers operate their everyday life. Defining this picture also brings to mind Agamben and his work on “State of Exception”.

In a “state of exception” suspects lose their rights to represent themselves and accused individuals have no voice. Giorgio Agamben identifies “state of exception” as the decision-making power of one over the lives of many with complete disregard for civil rights against the backdrop of an alleged state of emergency.[1] Agamben’s work is a theoretical analysis of the political distinction between bios (citizen) and zoe (homo sacer) made by those who hold judicial power.

Southeast and East Anatolia, has been in crisis almost since the foundation of Turkey. The state has taken a discriminative and violent approach towards its Kurdish citizens ever since. Kurds have been facing extraordinary measures country wide, especially in the Southeast and the East. The area in which Güres shot her films is part of the region in which a state of emergency was declared 46 times between 1982 and 2002.

Ayşe Kadıoğlu responds to the potential connection between the Kurdish case and Agamben with a reference to Yılmaz Güney`s film, “Yol” (The Road, 1982). Güney is a legendary director from the seventies who described himself as an “assimilated Kurd”, he was imprisoned in Turkey several times due to his “communist actions” and died in Paris in exile. Güney`s film is about the stories of five prisoners who travelled to their towns on probation for a week during the military coup in Turkey. Güney`s approach of focusing on individual stories, and revealing how state sponsored violence is committed at different levels can in turn be linked to Güreş` method of narrating the everyday reality of the villagers. Linking the Kurdish case with Agamben`s argument, Kadıoğlu gives examples from the film such as identification checks or how military officers treat the prisoners and later argues that “it portrays surges of military action against the Kurdish populated villages of southeast Turkey, where people find themselves trapped in their houses while armed conflicts take place between the Kurdish guerillas and the Turkish military.”[2]

The close connection between Güney and Güreş is based on how they both take the autobiographical aspects of their political reality and turn them into portraits about their time. In the Kurdish case, Kadıoğlu thinks “Agamben’s approach, which points to continuity between exception and the rule falls short of explaining Turkey’s Kurdish issue.”[3] Either it is described as a state of exception or of emergency, the villagers still have no phone service from the state, and they suffer from limitations of infrastructure.

Artistic Background

There are several other works that reflect how Güreş works with communities and cultural isolation. When we retrospectively look at Güreş` practice, it is clear that she is interested in developing a gender-specific critical perspective on the perception of identity and culture with a performative approach. Nilbar Güreş (b. 1977, Istanbul) deals with gender issues and narrative possibilities as well as marginalised communities and patriarchal systems through photography, drawings, videos, and collages. Her work has an autobiographical layer in terms of the materials, settings, casting and objects, which she reconstructs in her practice. She works with her family and friends; people whose stories she knows personally. She conceptualizes settings as forms of open scripts while bringing in real stories, and people she knows well.

The series as video, photographs and collages entitled “Unknown Sports, Indoor Exercises” (2009) consists of three performances staged by the artist who worked with housewives and volunteers from feminist organizations at the gymnasium of Marmara University. Considering cleaning the house, body care, make up and house work as everyday exercises and the domestic space as an invisible territory of female identity, the artist creates a conceptual setting for understanding the unspeakable acts of a woman’s world. Female practices such as body hair waxing, styling or vacuum cleaning are becoming their tools or weapons against male power and dominance. On the other hand, the series “Çırçır” (2010) takes place in a neighbourhood confiscated by the state in İstanbul, undergoing a problematic urban transformation. Women who live in a migrant culture dominated by a patriarchal structure are re-liberated as they stir up our collective consciousness in these open-ended scripts where they play the lead. The photographs as fragmented moments of never-ending short stories show women in many scenes with references to her imaginative power and the local context. For her “TrabZONE” (2010) series, Güreş traces a geographic reality that is imprinted on her childhood-memory with an instinct to re-look at Trabzon, an Anatolian city that the artist used to visit as a child.

An early video work “Undressing” (2006) is also related to the project “Open Phone Booth” in terms of its political stance. As an artistic response to the European ‘Islamophobic’ gaze, it is related to how the image of the Muslim women is abused by right-wing politics in order to manipulate the masses in the post 9/11 era. The video performance is based on the oxymoronic relationship between undressing and veiling. It attributes diverse styles of veiling and many types of scarves to the names of the artist’s friends and family members as an autobiographical form of narration.

Back to the Village

Similar to the series “TrabZone” and “Çırçır”, Güreş is also interested in the influence of geographical reality on the narrative politics in this project; and she is using the locations as conceptual stages. Sometimes they are turning into dark theatrical Beckettian atmospheres, sometimes the pastoral imagery is reflected on the choreography of the casting. In one of our conversations, my question directly addressed what the spatial and geographic influences are on her works as far as describing the conceptual plateau when you say “shooting location” and she was pretty clear about the answer: “Generally, what I do before starting a work is look for places where the work can best function. And sometimes my story automatically takes me to the location. Finding the right shooting location to me is like searching and finding the most suitable arena to minimize the subject I seek and its story, which spans over time, into a single, saturated snapshot...”

During the production of “Open Phone Booth”, Güreş collected many (moving or non-moving) images, and recorded many situations as the research data for her conceptualization of the project. She photographed the villagers’ everyday life as well as composed many life stills dealing with how infrastructure can be translated into critical forms of a visual narration. Some of these photographs can be considered as portraits of the villagers, some as still life that compose an ordinary look on how culture and nature are integrated into each other, and others as open-ended narratives with irrational elements of fiction…

In one of those images, different sized bowls used when the water is cut are composed together as a living sculpture. She combines everyday objects with irrational elements, gestures and mimics… In another work we see a non-functional telephone pole, and its cable cut off from a landscape blanketed with snow. The white sky and the snow define an abandoned place or traces of a civilization that does not exist anymore. Observing how water is supplied to households, Güreş develops conceptual compositions with water pipes, and natural water sources, moreover she juxtaposes the associations with an infrastructure that belongs to urban life and nature. Güreş points at the silent witnesses, and reveals a story of resistance and survival.

Composed of a three-channel video installation and some photographic images, “Open Phone Booth” (2007-2011) presents a panoramic stage with elongated fields of view. It is a pastoral poetry about how survival is part of the human condition as well as a lyrical abstraction of the grim truth that some are less equal than others.

[1] Jacques Ranciere . Who is the Subject of the Rights of Man? South Atlantic Quarterly 2004 103(2–3): 297–310

[2] Ayse Kadioglu, "Necessity and State of Exception: Turkish State's Permanent War with its Kurdish Citizens" in Kastoryano, Riva (ed), Turkey Between Nationalism and Globalization, Routledge, forthcoming in 2012.

[3] Ayse Kadioglu, "Necessity and State of Exception: Turkish State's Permanent War with its Kurdish Citizens" in Kastoryano, Riva (ed), Turkey Between Nationalism and Globalization, Routledge, forthcoming in 2012.

İSİMSİZ AMA KENDİSİ, 12. İstanbul Bienali 2011

2011-09-29T04:51:00.001-07:00

Felix Gonzales Torres

İSİMSİZ AMA KENDİSİ

(Alttaki yazının Yasemin Bay tarafından editlenmiş hali, Milliyet Sanat Ekim 2011 sayısında yer alıyor.)

Jens Hoffman ve Adriano Pedrosa’nın bienalinin tarihinden en temel ayrışması, 9B’den beri -odağı değişerek- devam eden bir dönüşümün kırılması; yani sergilerin bağlamın kavramsal zemin olarak işlenerek siyasallaşması stratejisinin başka bir yöne evrilmesi. Önceleri daha çok turistik mekanlarda gerçekleşen bienaller özellikle 9B’den beri şehre başka bir gözle bakmamızı, şehri yeniden tanımlamamızı sağlayan ve şehrin modernist, kamusal ve mimari alanlarına odaklı haritalardı. Beş karma sergiden ve solo sunumlardan oluşan; Antrepo'da iki mekanda gerçekleşen bu bienal, tarihinin en kalabalık katılımlı sunumu, elbette ki İstanbul’un dönüşen sanat haritasıyla da ilgili. Son yıllarda sanat kurumlarının ölçeğinde hatırı sayılır bir büyüme; müzeleşme konusunda birçok özel girişimin pazarda rekabet yaratması; genç yeteneklerin sanatçı insiyatiflerinin yerine galerilerden çıkması; yavaş yavaş İstanbul’un da sanatın alındığı, satıldığı bir pazar (ya da Kapalıçarşı) olarak dünya sanat mafyalarınca kabul görmesi, bu bağlamın ana hatları olarak sıralanabilir.

Geçen sene yapılan ‘İstanbul’u Hatırlamak’ konferansı çerçevesinde biraraya getirdikleri şahitlerden aktarılan bienal tarihinin bir data olarak kullanıldığı araştırma sürecinin bu kararlarında bir olumlama olarak çalıştığını yazılarında belirten küratörlerin çıkış noktası, Felix Gonzales Torres’in işlerine başlık verirken bir tavır kullandığı ‘İsimsiz’ ifadesi. Amaçlanan, herhangi bir ön-önermeden bağımsız olarak izleyiciyi sergiye bakarken yapıtlarla yalnız bırakıp, formun farklı metodojilerle içerik kazanma sürecinde anlatısal yapının öne çıkarılması. Diğer yandan bu sergi, her ne kadar İstanbul Bienalleri Tarihi’ne retrospektif bir bakışla oluşturularak gerçekleşse de, İstanbul’u, moderniteyi ya da başka bir politik üst okumayı kendine bağlam olarak edinecek bir yaklaşımın tersine sergiyi şehrinden kopararak mimari bir pratiğin (Pritzker ödülllü Ryue Nishizawa’nın) eline teslim ediyor. Yani sergi, üç eksik beş fazla Sao Paolo’da, New York’ta ya da Berlin’de de hayal edilebilirdi.

Bu anlamda son yıllarda epey tartıştığımız ve giderek tarifi zorlaşan ‘bağlam’ kavramına yeni bir anlayışla yaklaşıyor; bir serginin bağlamlaşma sürecini sanatsal formun kendi dinamiğinden yola çıkarak oluşturuyorlar. Nishiyawa’nın konstrüksyonlarının birbirinden ayırdığı kişisel sunumların arasında yine FGT’in ‘İsimsiz’ olarak ön-başlıklanan bazı işlerine adanan (Soyutlama, Tarih, Pasaport, Ross, Ateşli Silahla Ölüm) beş karma sergi yer alıyor.

Antrepo binalarını bildiğimden ve orada olacak bir serginin uzamını 3 aşağı 5 yukarı hayal edebildiğimden, şehrin sanat yartırımlarının gittiği istikametten ve elbette zeitgeist’e olan yüksek inanıştan açıkçası mekanlara ilk 12.’sinin bir müze bienaline dönüşme ihtimali korkusuyla ve Felix Gonzales Torres (İngilizce ‘faggot’a da gönderme potansiyeli nedeniyle kısaca FGT) aşkıyla vardım.

FGT’e kişisel nedenlerle, kamusal nedenlerle, sanat tarihsel nedenlerle, içimdeki sanat müzesinde hep başka bir yere koydum; yakınlarımla ve yakınlarımda psişik kurgularla onu çok sevdik, işlerini hep tavaf ettik. Vaktiyle bir Venedik Bienali’nin Amerikan Pavyonu’ndaki kitabik, pedant ve kuru yerleştirmesinden çıkarken başlayan ve en son Frankfurt MMK’da beni en iyi anlayacak iki arkadaşımla gezerken de ortaya çıkan bir soru, bize biraz yardım edebilir. FGT’nin iş-dünyası, sadece yerleştirme, mekan ve malzeme dönüşümünden ve siyasi göndermeleri güçlü bir soyutlama tekniğinden mi ibaret? Müze pratiğine yakın küratörler özellikle son yıllarda mekan kurgusu-izleyici ilişkisi açısından ona-işlerine yeniden bakmaya çalışıyor. 12. İstanbul Bienali de, zaman zaman küratöryel tekrarlara, literal bağlantılara ve sıkça vurgulanan formal benzerlik oyunlarına dayalı bir yerleştirme olarak eleştirilebilecek açıklar verse de, FGT çıkış noktası olarak küratörlere yaramış; metodolojik olarak tutarlı ve kavramsal geçişleri son derece itinalı bir sergi kurgusu ortaya çıkmış.

EN ÖNEMLİ SERGİ

Karma sergilerden kuşkusuz en güçlüsü olan ‘Soyutlama’ soyutlamayı sanatsal bir strateji olarak ele alarak, bu tekniğe modernizmin getirdiği bir problematik olarak yaklaşıyor ve bu anlamda formun temsil politikalarıyla ilişkisini inceliyor. Ve bu sanat-tarihsel izleğe verilen güncel cevapları birer refarans olarak birbirine geçirerek diziyor ve ortaya neredeyse 3D bir sanat tarihi kitabı olarak çıkan bir oda yerleştirmesine (Almanca ‘Rauminstallation’) dönüşüyor. Tek kelimeyle kusursuz. Bazı sergileri gezerken, sergiler bana geçer ya da akar; ben de buna bazı fiziksel tepkiler veririm. Ne bileyim, kalbim çarpar ya da gözüm dolar. Bir partide karşılaştığım Ayşe Erkmen’e, sergi gezerken nadiren yaşadığım bir duygulanma halini Soyutlama’da da yaşadığımı belirttiğimde, beni onaylarak kendisinin de neredeyse yakın duygularla gözlerini etraftan gizlediğini söylüyor. Neden sergilere ihtiyacımız var, sorusunun cevap örneği gibi bu sergi ve ancak içinden geçenlerin detaylarından deneyimleyeceği cümlelerle kurulmuş. Yanı başındaki İstanbul Modern’nin koleksiyonuna ve İstanbul’daki birçok başka koleksiyona dil çıkaran bir zekada ve bizim buralardaki -şimdilik sadece- figüratif anlatının işaretlediği sanatsal beğenisinin ‘soyutlama’ konusundaki tarihsizliğini bir çırpıda ifşa ediveriyor. Sergide Daniel Birnbaum’unun Venedik Bienali’nin karanlık girişinden hatırlayacağınız Brezilyalı sanatçı Lygia Clark’ın deneysel bir yerleştirme dili geliştirmek için uzun soluklu olarak üzerinde çalıştığı -alüminyum plakalardan oluşan- Yaratık (Bicho) adlı heykel serisi var; çağdaşı Charlotte Posenenske’nin DW (1967) adlı heykel serisi ise sürekli değişerek sergileniyor. Nihayet sadece içerik seçimiyle değil, sanatsal tekniğiyle doğru bir kurguda yer alan; bence kariyerinin en önemli sergilerinden birinde olan Cevdet Erek’in Güvercin Ağı (2010) sıhhıleştirme politikalarını vuran bir jestle, bütüne dahil oluyor.

EN TUTARLI KURGU

Karma sergilerden diğer favorim Tarih ise, Cevdet Erek’ın cetvellerini Aydan Murtezaoğlu’nun Karatahtası’yla aynı kareye sığacak bir eksende sergileyerek, Ömer Ali Kazma’nın sürekli resmi evrakları damgalayan bir elin hareketinin koreografik bir dizimle çoğaltıldığı videosunu aynı kavramsal temele oturtuyor. Erek’in 2007’den beri ürettiği cetvel serisinde Latince ve Arapça yıl ibareleri, “0” ve “ŞİMDİ” işaretlemesi ve Türkiye Cumhuriyeti Demokrasisi’nin önemli tarihleri (“1923,” “1960,” “1971” ve “1980”) soyutlanmış. Bu kadar yerinde bir küratöryel göz ve bu kadar işleyen bir yerel-bağlam-kaygısı! Helal!

HER ŞEY ROSS İÇİN!

Felix Gonzales Torres, her fırsatta yegane izleyicisi olarak partneri Ross’u gördüğünü belirtti. "İsimsiz" (Ross) sergisi adını aldığı FGT'in renkli parlak kağıtlara sarılmış ve azaldıkça yenilenen şekerlerden oluşan işine adanmış. (İşi hatırlarsak; Ross’un öldüğü zamanki ağırlığı olan 79.4 kg bir şeker yığınından ağzı tatlanan izleyiciler, Reagan döneminde siyasi olarak itilen HIV virisünü taşıyan bir adamın bedenininin bir parçası haline gelerek aslında onu kendi arzularında yeniden üretiyorlar.) İsimsiz (Ross) sergisinin en iyi işlerinden biri Michael Elmgreen ve Ingar Dragset’in ‘İsimsiz’ (Ross) sergisinde yer alan ‘Siyah Beyaz Günlük, Şek. 5’ (2009) adlı yapıtı; iş, aşk ve cinsiyet politikalarının üzerine inşa edilmiş ve hemen hemen bir yılın günlerinin sayısına eşit (364) fotoğraflardan oluşarak kolektif bir takvime-günlüğe dönüşüyor. Evinizde sevdiklerinizle çekilmiş ve çerçevelenmiş duran kaç fotoğraf var? Üç? Beş? Queer bir dünyanın tekinsiz, çoğul aşkla dolu, çelişkili ve ‘promiscuous’ dünyasından kopup gelen karelerde sosyal değerlerin kategorize edemeyeceği bir çirkin güzellik var.

BİENALİN YILDIZI

Bence Bienali’n yıldızı Kutluğ Ataman, video harici işlerini de görme fırsatı bulduğumuz sanatçı bu kez başkalarının hikayesine değil, kendine odaklanmış. İsimsiz (Ross) sergisinde yer alan işlerinden ikisi Kutluğ Ataman'a ait. forever (2011) isimli yapıtı, sevgilisiyle uzun yıllar paylaştığı bir yatağı sergiliyor. İlişkinin kopma ve yeniden birleşme anlarını formal bir dille sembolize eden müdahaleleriyle; yani yatağı kesen ve (adeta nakışla) diken Ataman, bağlanmanın imkansızlığı ve kaçınılmazlığını heykelleştirmiş. Diğer işi ise kendisinin ‘askerliğe elverişli olmadığını’ gösteren, askeri hastaneden doktor heyetinin imzası ve yetkili mercilerin damgasıyla belgelenen çürük raporu. Yakın zamanda alındığı üstündeki tarihten hemen okunan raporun öncesinde Ataman’ın yıllarca nasıl askerlikten ‘yırttını’ soranlar ya da olayın sansasyonel boyutuyla ilgilenenlere özellikle belirtmek isterim; güncel sanatımızın divası-ajdası bu adamın bu –çok kişisel bulunan- işi diğer işleriyle bir noktada çok keşisiyor. Ataman, dilin linguistik bir deneyim olarak gündelik ve öznel akışına her zaman ilgiliydi ve bu işinde de ‘devletin vatandaşıyla ilişkisinde kullandığı siyasi grameri’ cinsiyet politikalarından geçerek resmi dilin faşizmini açık ediyor. Dragset ve Elmgreen ile açılan ve Ataman ile devam eden bu tartışmaya, Meriç Algün Ringborg’un vize başvuru formlarını 5kg’luk bir nesne olarak heykelleştiren ‘Tüm ve Eksiksiz Vize Başvuru Formları Kitabı (2009–11)’ adlı işi eklemlenebilir ve tartışmanın ekseni sınır kontrolü ve resmi dil arasında yeniden şekillenebilir.

BİENALİN EN GÜZEL VİDEOSU

12. İstanbul Bienali, uzun süren videolardan kaçınan bir şekilde –hatırlarsanız İstanbul Film Festivali’ne eklenen film programıyla- film ve video arasında yerleştirme nüansı gözeten bir tavırla az ama öz video yerleştirmesi sunuyor. Bunlardan en çarpıcı olanı Wael Shawky’nin 200 yıllık kuklaları kullanarak, kukla tiyatrosunun diliyle ürettiği ve senaryosunu Amin Maaloof’un eserinden uyarladığı videosu: Haçlı Seferleri Kabaresi: Korku Gösterisi Dosyası. İçinden Costantinapole de geçen bu hikaye, Arap Baharı’nın tartışıldığı günlerde bizi tarihe ışınlayarak, karşımıza bugünkü medeniyet haritasını ve coğrafyasını yeniden tarifleyen bir görü ile çıkıyor.

SOLO SUNUMLAR

Solo sunumlarda Ahmet Öğüt’ün FGT’e referansla 2 Euro ile 1 YTL’nın imkansız aşkını anlatan ‘Mükemmel Aşıklar’ı; Füsun Onur’un Taksim Sanat Evi’ndeki ilk sergisinden davetiyesinin de olduğu seçkisi; Group Material ve Ardmore Seramik Atölyesi’nin AIDS tarihini eleştirel bir kişisellikle yeniden dizen sunumları; Renata Lucas’un izleyiciye mekanı ağırlık kaldırarak yeniden tasfiye etme şansı veren Fay Hattı; Zarouhie Abdalian’ın duvarın hareketiyle mekanın fizikselliğini işaretlediği işi; 60’lardan tatil görüntüklerini slaytlarla şiirsel bir atlasa çeviren Vesna Pavlovic; unuttuğumuz fotoğraflarıyla Yıldız Moran Acun ve Amerikan Kırsal Güvenlik İdaresi’nin (FSA) fotoğraf koleksiyonundaki “ıskarta” negatiflerden ürettiği videosuyla William E. Jones’u mutlaka yerinde görün. Solo sunumlar son derece iyi yerleştirilmiş tekil mekanlarında izleyiciye, sunumlarla birebir bir ilişki kurma şansı veren ve işlerin formsal kaygılarını gözeten bir yaklaşımla kurulmuş.

SONUÇTA

12. İstanbul Bienali, tek mekanı Antrepo’da iki bölüm halinde, son derece ‘precise’ diyebileceğim keskin, sahih ve dikkatli bir sergi. Coğrafi olarak düşünürsek, Latin Amerika’dan yoğun bir katılımın olduğu bu liste sanat tarihsel olarak da geriye uzanan bazı katılımlarla (Lygia Clark, Roy Lichtenstein vs.) oldukça güçlenmiş. Bir müze sergisine dönüşmekten korkmadan hayal ettiği forma ulaşma sürecinde risk alarak ilerlemiş; günümüz sanat marketini beslemeyecek kadar galeri dünyasına mesafeli. Bienal tarihinin en kalabalık sunumunu en iyi şekilde yerleştirmeye gayret eden bu meta-sergi-formu, sergi yapma üzerine düşünen bienal modeline geri dönen ve kilitlenen bienalleşme tartışmalarına verilmiş güncel bir cevap.

LEYLA GEDiZ, RAMPA, iSTANBUL, 2011

2011-09-26T08:24:00.001-07:00

Echo, oil on canvas, 50cmx50cm, 2010.

LEYLA GEDIZ

İstanbul based artist Leyla Gediz deals with how we remember things, and how they stay in our memories. Her paintings are constructed by cognitive, emotional, and physical references of our relationships with space, objects, and others; and they associate images with senses in relation to photographic gaze and cinematic experience. Geneva (2008) looks like a frozen frame from an old movie as if Humphrey Bogart might enter the scene; it creates a filmic atmosphere from an old apartment in Geneva with a film noir-like light inside whereas Republican (2006) reminds of the graffiti one can see on the streets. Terakki (2000) is composed of patterns of a logotype that illustrates a silhouette of a father and a daughter looking at where the father is pointing his finger. They are most likely looking at the translation of its title: Progress-ion. Depending on how they are coded by the artist, the figures and motifs vary from photographic images to filmic fragments, from childlike expressions to graphic elements in their appearances and styles.

Gediz is primarily interested in how we are attached to images and how they become ours. She develops her content by identifying herself with the subjects of her paintings. She personalizes the situations around them during the process of painting. This is why the process of painting has significant impact on her self-perception and conception of the body of work. Considering one of the oldest traditions in painting; she investigates contemporary forms of portraiture, and brings a fresh look on how people, personas and characters are represented in accordance with how we look at them and how we see ourselves in their presence. Portrait (2002) displays a beautiful young girl who looks at us with a sad smile.Gediz establishes an emphatic relationship with Lara whose suicide was a headline in the Turkish press, and identifies herself with her gaze. In another one, Recluse (2006) a man wearing a black overcoat is seen from behind. The overcoat looks as if it is -poetically speaking- as heavy as life, and its depiction creates an emphatic relationship for its viewer with the man regarding the burden of life on his shoulders. It might be read as a contemporary form of the Atlas figure carrying the weight of the heavens on his back.

The installation of 118 drawings entitled Atlantis 2000 (2001) departs from a photograph of Dimitri Starosletsev, one of the soldiers who died when Kursk, the nuclear-powered submarine of the Russian Navy sank in the Barents Sea. Drawing the same face - again and again - and moving away from the photo, Gediz designs a methodological process by positioning drawing as a way of remembering, recalling, forgetting, and commemorating. Her work reflects many aspects of human conditions; from melancholy to euphoria, it is as rich as the life itself and swings from one psychological mood into another. It is connected with our existential questions and perception of reality, dealing with birth, death and transitions in human nature.

Her artistic voice and conceptual versatility operate as a - personally - critical diary. Most of her works have autobiographical references due to their narrative quality and elements of fiction. Similar to a novelists` approach, the codes and references lose their original addresses and gain new symbolic values in the process. Her oeuvre is the reflection of her personal experience with life, and mirroring of it on the painterly forms.

Gediz takes painting as a conceptual base, and experiments with the media in order to investigate its limits and narrative possibilities. Including oil painting, drawing and installation, she uses various techniques and elaborates her painterly language with a material-sensitive approach. She is a painter who can make paintings out of anything under one condition: they must be things that are related or connected with her. Departing from personal codes, she questions her psychological distance to the subjects of her paintings, and her mini-obsessions or strong attachments with these subjects provide hints for abstractions. Collecting fragments of disclosure, isolation, and intimacy from her memory and abstracting them as symbolic gestures of time and space, Gediz fictionalizes various forms of space for her subjects. During this introspective process, she develops tools for de-contextualizing her subjects from their social reality, and repositions them in a timeless setting. They take forms of our collective memory, and stay as how we might remember them in specific moments.

Not only painting, but also exhibition-making can be seen as her artistic media. As a prolific artist, she realized several solo projects by experimenting not only on the media of painting but also on the form and conception of exhibition making. She approaches exhibits as a way of conceptualizing her process of painting, and conceptualizes her presentations with an ambitious artistic vision for unique settings. For instance, she included sound into her site-specific installation, noa noa (2009) and also displayed large scale sculptures in relation to the architecture of the gallery next to her paintings and drawings for her solo project Subject: Free (2009). During her stay at the artist residency program at HIAP of Helsinki, she formed a new beginning by constructing a solo presentation that questions the materiality of painting and the role of the painter in ‘Under Construction’.

This text is written for the gallery catalogue printed by RAMPA, iSTANBUL, 2011

David Blandy, Child of the Atom

2011-09-05T15:17:00.000-07:00

David Blandy, Child of the Atom, 2010

Die Arbeiten des in London lebenden Künstlers David Blandy bestehen aus Videos, Performances und Comic-Zeichnungen, die seine zwiespältige Beziehung zur Popkultur widerspiegeln, wobei das spannungsvolle Verhältnis zwischen Realität und Fiktion im Alltag besonders hervorgehoben wird. Seine Arbeit basiert darauf, persönliche Referenzen von Schallplatten, aus Film und Fernsehen in Meta-Erzählungen umzuwandeln, die sich mit Fragen zu seiner kulturellen Positionierung als Künstler beschäftigen. David Blandys erste umfassende Einzelausstellung “Child of the Atom“ verwandelt den 2. Stock des Künstlerhaus in ein Filmtheater und zeigt eine Auswahl seiner Videoarbeiten. Die zentrale Installation präsentiert eine Auswahl von fünf Videoarbeiten, die in einer Endlosschleife gezeigt werden. Die Videos werden als spezifisches Programm präsentiert, das einen Rückblick auf die wesentlichen Schritte der künstlerischen Laufbahn von David Blandy bietet und seine Herangehensweise an die filmische Sprache vorstellen soll.

Das erste Video “Enter the Barefoot Lone Pilgrim: Origins” (2006) verbindet reale Lebenserfahrungen Blandys mit seinen virtuellen Abenteuern und verwischt die Unterscheidung zwischen künstlerischer Authentizität und populärem Mythos. Im orangefarbenen Gewand eines buddhistischen Shaolin-Mönchs, einen tragbaren Plattenspieler in der Hand, war der Lone Pilgrim Einsiedler in einem Park aus dem 18. Jahrhundert in Surrey, ging auf einen Road Trip durch die USA und suchte in New York nach Plätzen, die in Soul Songs beschrieben werden. Seit 2004 hat David Blandy eine Reihe von Film-Performances produziert, in denen er eher für die Kamera als für das Publikum performt.

In "Samurai Story Parts I & II" (2008) versucht der Barefoot Lone Pilgrim Aspekte des Hagakure (Ehrenkodex der Samurai inmitten einer englischen Nachbildung eines japanischen Teegartens zu leben. In der Arbeit “The White & Black Minstrel Show” (2007) singt Blandy playback zu Syl Johnsons Underground-Soul-Klassiker ‘Is it because I’m Black’. Gefilmt in einem riesigen Art-Déco-Kino, mutet die Aufführung an wie eine Varietée-Schau mit einem falschen Minnesänger/ Clown/ Sänger/ Darstellung des Todes, der gefühlvolles Jaulen und Aufschreien mit seinem Luftgitarrenspiel auf einem Plastikstock mischt. Als ein dämlicher weißer Kerl, der ernsthaft versucht, schwarzen Soul zu verkörpern, hinterfragt Blandy die Ansprüche an und die emotionale Bindung zu einem fremden kulturellen Erbe.

In "Crossroads" (2009) taucht der „weiße und schwarze“ Musiker wieder auf, diesmal als eine Erscheinung während Blandys Mission durch das ländliche Mississippi – eine Suche nach jemanden, der annährend die Fähigkeit hat, so Gitarre zu spielen wie der legendäre Blues-Musiker Robert Johnson, eine Suche nach dessen Seele. David Blandy entwickelte das Video nach seinen Recherchen zu dem Mythos, der Robert Johnson umgibt – ein Künstler, dem drei Grabsteine gewidmet sind, der 29 Songs aufgenommen hat und von dem nur zwei Fotografien existieren. Eine Person wandert durch die Landschaft, sehnt sich nach authentischem Blues, spielt klischeehafte Bilder der Popkultur nach; er hört Gitarrenspiel auf Veranden zu, wandert staubige Straßen entlang, er stößt auf Kreuzungen. Das Video ist auch ein Portrait des Mississippi-Deltas, eine Gegend, in der die Rassentrennung zwar offiziell abgeschafft ist, die aber dennoch nach wie vor tief gespalten ist.

Anknüpfend an die jüngsten Diskussionen um die atomare Energieerzeugung in Deutschland, zeigt das Künstlerhaus Stuttgart mit dem Film „Child of the Atom“ (2010) die neueste Arbeit von David Blandy als Teil einer Präsentation weiterer ausgewählter Videos. In einem Gespräch über „Child of the Atom“ sagt David Blandy: „Es gibt einen Mythos in unserer Familie, der besagt, dass mein Großvater die japanische Kriegsgefangenschaft nicht überlebt hätte, wäre die Atombombe über Hiroshima nicht abgeworfen worden. So könnte man argumentieren, dass ich meine Existenz einem der schrecklichsten Ereignisse der Menschheitsgeschichte und dem Tod von 110.000 Menschen zu verdanken habe.“ Die überlieferte Familiengeschichte über David Blandys Großvater, der ab 1942 Kriegsgefangener in Malaysia und Taiwan war, ist der Ursprung der Arbeit “Child of the Atom”. Aus einem tiefliegenden Schuldgefühl über seine eigene Existenz und die seiner Tochter heraus, dokumentiert Blandys Film ihren gemeinsamen Besuch in Hiroshima, wo er konkret aber auch symbolisch nach den gemeinsamen Wurzeln sucht. In der Ausstellung gibt es eine kostenlose Edition von Postern mit einer Collage von Zeichnungen David Blandys.

Die Arbeit "Duels und Dualities: Battle of the Soul (Arcade Game)" (2011) ist ein 2D-Computerspiel mit fiktiven Figuren aus Blandys bisherigen Arbeiten, das in der Ausstellung im Künstlerhaus auf einem Spielautomaten interaktiv erlebt werden kann. Der Betrachter kann zwischen unterschiedlichen Spielfiguren und Kampfgegnern wählen: es gibt eine ganze Reihe an Alter Egos David Blandys, wie z.B. den Barefoot Lone Pilgrim, den Orochi Pilgrim, den weißen und schwarzen Musiker, das allmächtige Child of the Atom sowie David Blandy selbst, der nur über einen schwachen und eine starken Faustschlag verfügt. Teil der Ausstellung ist außerdem eine „Design-Vitrine“, in der verschiedene Formen der künstlerischen Forschung und Produktion aus David Blandys Arbeiten präsentiert werden Cartoons, Publikationen, Objekte und Notizen sowie Ephemera.

Die Ausstellung "Child of the Atom" umfasst sämtliche konzeptionellen Fragestellungen, die im Zentrum von David Blandys Werk stehen. In diesen Arbeiten verarbeitet Blandy seine Teenager-Obsessionen und nutzt sie als Mittel, um zu analysieren, wie viel von seiner Identität als Erwachsener durch die in den Massenmedien gefundenen Symbole und Ideen konstruiert wurde.

David Blandy, Child of the Atom

2011-09-05T15:12:00.000-07:00

David Blandy, Crossroads, 2009

London based artist David Blandy (1976) produces videos, performances and comics that deal with his ambivalent relationship with popular culture, highlighting the slippage and tension between fantasy and reality in everyday life. His work is based on transforming personal references from records, films and television into meta-narration that deals with questions about his cultural position. David Blandy`s first comprehensive solo show in Germany “Child of the Atom“ transforms the 2nd floor of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart into a movie theatre for cinematic experiences. Displaying a selection of his video works in loop, the main installation with red curtains, seating platforms and a huge screen is designed in collaboration with the team working at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart. The videos are presented as a specific program that aims to create a retrospective look at the fundamental steps in his artistic career and his approach to the filmic language.

The first video work, “Enter the Barefoot Lone Pilgrim: Origins” (2006) integrates Blandy`s real life experiences and virtual adventures, blurring the distinction between artistic authenticity and popular myth. Donning the orange robes of a Buddhist Shaolin Monk, portable record player in hand, the Lone Pilgrim has been a hermit in an 18th century park in Surrey, made an American road trip, and searched for the places that had associations with soul songs in New York. Since 2004 Blandy has been producing a series of filmed performances where he performs for camera rather than a live audience. In “Samurai Story Parts I & II” (2008) the Barefoot Lone Pilgrim attempts to live out aspects of the samurai Hagakure amid an English recreation of a Japanese Tea Garden. In “The White & Black Minstrel Show” (2007) Blandy lipsyncs to Syl Johnson’s underground soul classic, ‘Is it because I’m black’ like a vaudeville performance by an inverted minstrel/clown /image of death, filmed in vast ArtDéco cinema, mixing soulful grunts and yelps with air guitar on his plastic cane. As a geeky white guy trying earnestly to embody some black soul, Blandy questions claims to originality and emotional attachment to another cultural heritage.

In “Crossroads” (2009) the White and Black Minstrel reappears, this time as an apparition on Blandy’s mission through rural Mississippi – a quest for guitar skills to match those of legendary bluesman Robert Johnson, a quest to regain his soul. The video has been developed out of the artist’s investigation into the mythology surrounding Robert Johnson with three gravestones, 29 recorded songs and only two known photographs. A figure roams the landscape, yearning for Blues authenticity, re-enacting clichéd images from popular culture; guitar picking on porches, walking dusty roads, finding the crossroads. The film is also a portrait of the Mississippi Delta, a place that is still deeply, but not officially, segregated.

In relation to recent discussions about the atomic energy production in Germany, Künstlerhaus Stuttgart is pleased to show David Blandy’s recent work “Child of the Atom” (2010) as part of other selected video works in a cinematic setting. Discussing his video piece, “Child of the Atom”, Blandy states: “There is a familial myth that my late grandfather would not have survived being a Japanese prisoner of war had the atomic bombing of Hiroshima not occurred. So it could be argued that I owe my existence to one of the most terrifying events of human history and the death of 110,000 people.” This family lore regarding David Blandy's grandfather, held as a POW in Malaya and Taiwan from 1942, provided the genesis of “Child of the Atom”. Generated by an underlying guilt about his own and also his daughter's existence, Blandy's film documents their visit to Hiroshima to literally and symbolically search for their 'origins'. The exhibition also offers free copies of a special edition poster, which is a collage of Blandy´s drawings.

The exhibition includes an installation entitled "Duels and Dualities: Battle of the Soul (Arcade Game)” (2011), a computer game machine, which is a rendered 2D fighting game featuring the fictional characters generated from Blandy`s previous work. The viewer can choose to fight as and against his array of alter egos, such as the Barefoot Lone Pilgrim, Orochi Pilgrim, the White and Black Minstrel, the all-powerful Child of the Atom and David Blandy himself, who only has light and hard punch. Within the exhibition installation, a special design table displays various forms of artistic research and production from David Blandy`s artistic practice such as cartoons, publications, objects and notes as well as ephemera.

Finally an earlier video work "From the underground" (2001) shows Blandy when he was recording himself at the Archway tube station in London miming a song (‘Bring da ruckus’ by the Wu Tang Clan). The conjunction of his retro-rock look with the Black American voices of the song provokes difficult questions about the racial politics of taking another’s voice as your own. The exhibition “Child of the Atom” encapsulates the conceptual issues at the centre of David Blandy’s artwork. In these pieces Blandy works through his teenage obsessions as a means to analyse how much of his adult identity has been constructed by the icons and ideas found in the mass media.

Nilbar Güreş, Self-Defloration

2011-09-05T14:57:00.000-07:00

Nilbar Güreş, Undressing, 2006

Vienna based artist Nilbar Güreş' solo exhibition “Self-Defloration” on the 4th floor aims to display the diversity of her practice with a focus on a narrative approach to gender issues. She creates conceptual forms of filmic settings to produce photographic images, her narrative compositions are also transformed into collage, drawing and video. Her first solo project in Germany borrows its title from her collage work, “Self-Defloration” (2006). A female figure committing the act of self-defloration with an abstract form of reference to the third gaze is depicted standing as a personal statement to take control over her body instead of allowing a male figure to take ownership.

Welcoming the audience, the exhibition starts with an earlier video work entitled “Undressing” (2006), an artistic response to the European ‘Islamophobic’ gaze. The video performance is based on the oxymoronic relationship between undressing and veiling. Regarding how the image of the Muslim woman is instrumentalized in order to manipulate the masses by conservatives in the Post-9/11 era, it attributes diverse styles of veiling and many types of scarves to the names of the artist's friends and family members as an autobiographical form of narration. Güreş challenges the Western gaze with the expectation of a uniformed political identity associated with the preconceived meaning of scarf proposing rich Anatolian culture of textile and clothing style.

“Unknown Sports, Indoor Exercises” (2009) consists of three performances staged by the artist who worked with housewives in a gym. Considering cleaning the house, body care, make-up and house work as everyday exercises and the domestic space as an invisible territory of female identity, the artist creates a conceptual setting for understanding the unspeakable acts from a woman's world. Female practices such as body hair waxing, styling or vacuum cleaning have become their tools or weapons against male power and patriarchal dominance.

The “Çırçır” (2010) series takes place in a neighborhood confiscated by the state in Istanbul, undergoing a problematic urban transformation. Women who live in a migrant culture dominated by a patriarchal structure are re-liberated as they stir up our collective consciousness in these open-ended scripts where they play the lead. The photographs represent fragmented moments of never-ending short stories depicting women in many scenes with references to her imaginative power and the local context. For instance, women singing together in “Gathering”, young girls believing in a common bright future in “Promise” are fictional characters with real references; also, the surrealist atmosphere of “Playing with a water gun” and the poetic staging of “Safine” are examples of how Güreş transforms theatricality into fiction with a performative approach.

The solo project “Self-Defloration” aims to present the diversity in Güreş' practice. In addition to her video works and photographic images, the exhibition includes recent collages and a presentation of her artistic research. Recent collage works - “The Flamingo and the Boy” (2011) and “Wrestling & Praying” (2011) - are based on non-narrative depictions of figures that are related with her fantasyland.

For this exhibition, Künstlerhaus Stuttgart has produced limited edition posters from the “TrabZONE” (2010) series. In this series, Güreş traces a geographic reality that is imprinted on her childhood memory with an instinct to re-visit Trabzon, an Anatolian city the artist used to visit in her childhood. In the recent video work “Wolf & Schaf” (2011), - shown for the first time in this exhibition - a little boy wearing a wolf mask is running after a girl with a lamb mask, they both imitate the animal sounds and reenact an old tale at night. Reflecting on her political position in response to the characteristics of traditional gender codes, Nilbar Güreş's solo exhibition focuses on female power, creates alternative narrative possibilities and reconstructs how we develop our gender and cultural identity.

Nilbar Güreş's project “Open Phone Booth” will be part of Frieze Frame (during Frieze Art Fair, London, 13-16 October 2011); the project is accompanied by a publication including a text by Adnan Yildiz. Nilbar Güres is represented by RAMPA Gallery Istanbul.

Nilbar Güreş, Self-Defloration

2011-09-05T14:54:00.000-07:00

Nilbar Güres, Circir series, Playing with a water gun, 2010

Die monografische Ausstellung der in Wien lebenden Künstlerin Nilbar Güreş „Self-Defloration“ im vierten Stock des Künstlerhaus präsentiert die Vielfalt ihrer künstlerischen Arbeit, die sich narrativ mit Gender-Fragen auseinandersetzt. Sie entwirft konzeptionelle Formen filmischer Settings, die sie in Fotografien, Collagen, Zeichnungen und Videos transformiert. Den Titel für ihre erste Einzelausstellung in Deutschland übernimmt sie von ihrer Collage „Self Defloration“ (2006). Dargestellt wird eine weibliche Figur, die sich selbst entjungfert und in abstrakter Art und Weise auf das Konzept des „3. Blicks“ verweist. Vor allem aber steht die weibliche Figur für ein persönliches Statement, selbst die Kontrolle über den eigenen Körper zu haben anstatt es einer männlichen Person zu gestatten, Besitz davon zu ergreifen.

Den Auftakt der Ausstellung bildet eine Videoarbeit mit dem Titel „Undressing“ (2006), die eine künstlerische Antwort auf den europäischen „islamophobischen“ Blick gibt. Die Video-Performance basiert auf der oxymoronischen Beziehung zwischen Enthüllen und Verhüllen. Sie bezieht sich darauf, wie das Bild der muslimischen Frau von Konservativen in der Ära nach dem 11. September 2001 instrumentalisiert wurde, um die Massen zu manipulieren. In einer autobiographischen Erzählform ordnet Nilbar Güreş die Namen von Freunden und Familienmitgliedern verschiedenen Tüchern und unterschiedlichsten Stilrichtungen der Verschleierung zu. Durch die Präsentation der reichen Stoff- und Bekleidungskultur Anatoliens fordert die Künstlerin dazu auf, die westlichen Vorurteile zu hinterfragen, die das Kopftuchtragen mit einer uniformierten politischen Haltung verbinden.

"Unknown Sports, Indoor-Exercises " (2009) besteht aus drei Performances von Nilbar Güreş, die sie zusammen mit Hausfrauen in einem Fitness-Studio erarbeitet hat. Sie betrachtet das Putzen des Hauses, die Körperpflege, Make-up und allgemeine Hausarbeit als alltägliche sportliche „Übungen“ und den häuslichen Raum als unsichtbaren Ort der weiblichen Identität und schafft damit einen konzeptionellen Rahmen, Handlungen in der Welt der Frauen zu verstehen. Weibliche Praktiken wie Körperenthaarung, Styling oder Staubsaugen sind ihre Werkzeuge und Waffen gegen männliche Macht und patriarchale Dominanz geworden.

Die Serie „Çırçır“ (2010) spielt in einem Stadtviertel Istanbuls, das sich in einer problematischen urbanen Transformation befindet. Die Hauptrolle spielen Frauen, die in einer migrantischen, von patriarchalischen Strukturen geprägten Kultur leben. In Nilbar Güreş „Drehbüchern“ mit oft offenem Ende erhalten sie die Möglichkeit, sich zu „befreien“ und gleichzeitig an unser kollektives Bewusstsein zu appellieren. Die Fotografien stellen fragmentierte Momente (Ausschnitte?) von nie endenden Kurzgeschichten dar und zeigen Frauen in unterschiedlichen Szenerien mit Verweisen auf die weibliche Vorstellungskraft und den lokalen Kontext. So handelt es sich zum Beispiel bei den Frauen, die in „The Gathering“ gemeinsam singen oder bei den jungen Mädchen, die in „Promise“ an eine gemeinsame strahlende Zukunft glauben, um fiktive Charaktere, die einen realen Hintergrund haben; auch die surrealistische Atmosphäre in "Playing with a water gun“ und die poetische Inszenierung von "Safine" sind Beispiele dafür, wie Güreş durch einen performativen Ansatz Theatralik in Fiktion verwandelt.

Die Einzelausstellung "Self-Defloration" will die Vielfalt in Güreş’ Werk darstellen. Zusätzlich zu ihren Videoarbeiten und Fotografien werden ihre neuesten Collagen gezeigt sowie eine Präsentation ihrer künstlerischen Forschung. Weitere neue Collagen wie "The Flamingo and the Boy" (2011) und "Wrestling & Praying" (2011) basieren auf nicht-narrativen Darstellungen von Figuren, die aus Nilbar Güreş’ Fantasiewelt stammen.

Für die Ausstellung hat das Künstlerhaus Stuttgart in limitierter Auflage Plakate aus der "TrabZONE"-Serie (2010) produziert. In dieser Arbeit beschäftigt sich Güreş mit einer geografischen Realität. Instinktiv folgt sie ihren Kindheitserinnerungen und sucht erneut den Ort Trabzon auf, eine Stadt in Anatolien, sie als kleines Kind öfter besucht hat. In ihrer jüngsten Videoarbeit "Wolf & Schaf" (2011), - die zum ersten Mal in dieser Ausstellung gezeigt wird – trägt ein kleiner Junge eine Wolf-Maske und verfolgt ein Mädchen mit Schaf-Maske. In der dunklen Nacht imitieren sie die Geräusche der Tiere und spielen ein altes Märchen nach.

Die/ihre politische Position in Bezug auf die Charakteristika der traditionellen Geschlechterrollen bzw. deren Codes reflektierend, konzentriert sich die Einzelausstellung von Nilbar Güreş auf die weibliche Kraft, schafft alternative erzählerische Möglichkeiten und rekonstruiert, wie wir unsere geschlechtliche und kulturelle Identität entwickeln.

Nilbar Güres’ Projekt „Open Phone Booth“ ist Teil von „Frieze Frame“ (im Rahmen der Frieze Art Fair, London,13.-16. Oktober 2011); zu „Open Phone Booth“ erscheint eine Publikation mit einem Text von Adnan Yildiz. Nilbar Güreş wird vertreten von der Galerie RAMPA in Istanbul.

Interview with Nilbar Güreş

2011-09-02T05:57:00.000-07:00

Interview with Nilbar Güreş

What if our struggle with life was a branch of sports?

Nilbar Güreş’s practice is so full of oxygen; and it features wide areas to cultivate arguments and such diverse cultural climates… The woman designs fictional scenes which leave the audience right at the heart of the issue while marking –naturally– the social perceptual thresholds of manhood, the identity codes of Turkey and Europe and different transformations of imagining or crashing into reality. She manages to create such open-end stories out of the mundane, the local or that which is ‘taught’. Strengthening our muscles for struggling with life, these codes introduce areas where we can relate to our own stories.

Adnan Yıldız: Your work is based on photography, but one couldn’t just describe them as “photographs”. Would you feel comfortable with “creating photographic images through a performative approach”?

Nilbar Güreş: Part of the photographic works is the documented versions of performances. I actually want the figures to be in –constant– motion while photographing, but what I mean is not the type of motion you see in videos. It is more like capturing ‘that moment’ while the figures are involved in a natural action. The setting I want to create here is maybe a frame where figures try to find their own places and perform as themselves or a presentation that –although performative– is minimized to a core action from which the act of “performing” is extracted, yet one where you can discover (hidden) surprises…

AY: This documentation during the process of production you speak of; it creates “fictional” scenes on the contrary to the usual documentary language when combined with your performative approach. Where do you place the audience in your works, especially the “Unknown Sports”, taking into account the problematic of scene and presentation?

NG: The audience could directly take the images as they are to opine depending on how empathetic they feel towards the work, or they could read them through their own biography. What concerns me most is how women read the works. On the other hand, the rate of male interest and their comments on images document interesting results on to which extent they comprehend the issues of gender roles and distribution. The performers and the female audience share the same position in “Unknown Sports”. Remember the photography triplets of the “Unknown Sports” series, which I exhibited at the 11^th Istanbul Biennial; everyone comes up both in the scene and as audience respectively. So that’s where I place the audience then…

AY: So how was “Unknown Sports” conceived? The series explores female codes, and in every detail from wax to pots, it virtually becomes the allegory of the ‘show’, itself. What particularly intrigue me are the limits of that immense imagination attributed to the ever-disdained “housewife”…

NG: Bearing the heaviest burden of gender roles, which costumes do women wrap themselves up in and which apparatuses do they use while stuck in between functionality and certain “femininity image” clichés while trying to adapt to all sorts of roles they are forced into? The waxing and other ritual images featured in collages were intended to show how “womanly” we are when helping each other out women to women for beautification or when among other women. We act in solidarity without asking to what core purpose or service when it comes to an effort concerning men. So what if we fall in love while discovering each other –when we get close to get beautified with the help of each other for the other sex? Those ideas were combined with answers from my female friends or women I did not know in response to a certain question. I asked them to which sports branch they related their struggle with life. The answers I got were imaged into collages or photography to be included in the series or to designate the sports branch for the performances I did in public spaces.

AY: Your production is not confined to photography, but you produce drawings, as well, and you are just as loyal to the setting in drawings as you are in photography and videos. Your pictorial material makes the elements inside the photographic image more visible. Which one is more useful for finding the form while working on the setting of a work; which material makes it easier for the work to surface? Do drawings come first, or is it photography?

NG: The works exhibited at the 11^th Istanbul Biennial were created after drawings and performances and then turned into photography. The process for the works exhibited at the Berlin Biennial (Çırçır series) started with the motivation to create photography, but I went on with sketches as I couldn’t remain there every single day to think. Drawings come first because drawing something is a faster and more practical process than creating a ‘setting’. What I mean is a rough sketch, nothing more. Yet those without any drawings or sketches, which crystallize at the shooting location, may strangely turn out to be most influential works.

AY: Based on those; observing your productions in Trabzon and the “Beekeeper” series, what are the spatial and geographic influences on these works as far as describing the conceptual plateau when you say “shooting location”?

NG: Generally, what I do before starting a work is look for places where the work can best function. And sometimes my story automatically takes me to the location. Finding the right shooting location to me is like searching and finding the most suitable arena to minimize the subject I seek and its story, which spans over time, into a single, saturated snapshot. I knew the local life in Trabzon from a few summers I spent there as a kid. My initial motivation while starting this series was to take off from the traces that this location in Trabzon has left in my memory. What I was interested in doing was to take a fresh look at the place and see how I could transform that location with images. Taking off from that point, I tried to create such a ‘setting’ to reset and alter the atmosphere and colors thereof the way I wanted to. So the “TrabZone” series was conceived in direct relation with this geography.

AY: Looking at your works, I recall “Sevgili Arsız Ölüm” by Latife Tekin or “İnce Memed” by Yaşar Kemal. As far as feeling, it is likely that one could catch identifications with the puzzled Dirmit, who gets slapped by her mother when she has her first period (Sevgili Arsız Ölüm) or the helpless Hatçe, who gets slandered (İnce Memed)…

NG: I’m a cultural empiricist. You could say that the characters in my images and the moments and stories they create are from books that I didn’t write myself but live in… To experience and to witness may get tougher than reading. I guess that toughness finds shape in your statement with the evocations of your readings like “the puzzled Dirmit” or “the helpless Hatçe”.

AY: Yet the works aren’t depictive or illustrative. They are related to tradition but also brand new. Do you require that the audience write their own stories considering the links between text and image? Or is the main point non-narrative, non-ending or an incomprehensible beginning?

NG: I’ve recently been creating photography series since a couple years as you have followed my work. The images featured in the series are like the separate pieces of a chain; one could read them individually or as a whole. My series display the instance sites (actual or imaginary) along with pieces extracted from those instances. I think the image details of different times and periods and the arrangement of those details as well as their links with the figures trigger our collective imagination through my extractions, and leave the option on how to end to story –open– for the audience to decide.

AY: You were featured in the same program with Nathalie Djurberg in our exhibition, “Correct me if I am critical” at the Supportico Lopez Gallery in Berlin/Kreuzberg, and you exhibited your video titled “Undressing”. In the video, an anonymous figure emerges beneath many layers of different scarves, and she gets ‘undressed’ reciting the name to which she devotes the scarf, one at a time. “Undressing” reverses the political context of scarf aesthetics to reproduce it in its own aesthetic language.

NG: That performance was conceived as a reaction against Islamophobia, which got widespread in Europe especially after 9/11 and also against the Muslim woman image consumed by the extremist-right wing parties of Europe as well as the de-identification policy carried out against this image. Yes, the work functions through a reverse analogy here; it describes the scarf by undressing and the personal references to the fabrics bring in a biographical element.

AY: How do the contexts of spaces you choose to exhibit your works contribute to them, with particular regards to the “Unknown Sports” you exhibited at the Biennial of WHW and the –abandoned– Feriyeköy Greek Elementary?

NG: Those presentations were separate. The collages were at the Warehouse, and the photographs were at the Greek School. The collage presentation at the Warehouse had a more classical style. It was fine except that the space got a little too crowded. What satisfied me most in my participation to the 11^th Istanbul Biennial was the photo presentation at the Feriyeköy Greek School. Because there is a cross-relation between the “Unknown Sports” and the gymnastics class. While the female body is exposed instructions on how not to act in daily life, every single gymnastics class instructs them similar moves that are not supposed to be made. More precisely, the student has to attend the class to take notes and somehow manage to make those moves. Isn’t it ironic to perform the absurd and prohibited moves of daily life in a 60 or 90-minute class and get academic points for that? And when you perform them after you step outside the school, you get low points from the society! I was so pleased with the school presentation, the color of the walls (the classical classroom paint you all know) and the way they arranged the works. If you are talking about producing ‘for the space’, I would say yes, that is possible. My participation in the 6^th Berlin Biennial was such a process. The curator, Kathrin Rhomberg asked me to work in a space that was full of personal denotations. And those works were created in that space, so for that space.

AY: Just to review the “Çırçır” series you exhibited at the Berlin Biennial; can you give any hints as to how you worked with the space and your relations with the curator?

NG: The space where the works were exhibited was not the original, planned space. Only a short while before the opening, the curator, Kathrin Rhomberg came up with the idea to exhibit the works at another space which was in further communication with the outside, and suggested another section with more sunlight by big windows overlooking the park. The series was designed to be exhibited in a larger space, but then they got arranged in a smaller space with narrow intervals in between, which may have caused the audience to perceive the works as of documentary nature. As far as language. To tell the truth, it may not always be so easy to exhibit a series depending on the features of the exhibition space. Every exhibition space requires its own architectural setting. What matters is to find the proper space that the work requires.

This interview is prepared for ICE magazine, Spring 2011 Issue, but not printed.

Nilbar Güreş söyleşisi

2011-08-12T09:15:00.000-07:00

NİLBAR GÜREŞ SÖYLEŞİSİ:

“Hayatla mücadele etme biçiminiz, bir spor dalı olsaydı, ne olurdu?”

Adnan Yıldız

Nilbar Güreş’in pratiğinin oksijeni bol; içinde yeşerecek tartışma alanları geniş ve kültürel iklimleri öyle zengin ki... Kadın, -haliyle erkek olmanın toplumsal algı eşiklerini; Türkiye ve Avrupa’nın kimlik kodlarını; hayal kurmanın ya da gerçeğe çarpmanın farklı dönüşümlerini işaretlerken, izleyiciyi mevzunun tam ortasında bırakacak kurgusal sahneler tasarlıyor. Günlük, yerel ya da ‘öğretilmiş’ olanın içinden, öyle açık uçlu senaryolarla çıkarıyor ki; hayatla mücadele kaslarımızı kuvvetlendiren bu kodlar, önümüze kendi hikayelerimizle özdeşlik kurabileceğimiz hayal tarlaları açıyor.

Adnan Yıldız: Fotoğraf temelli çalışıyorsun, ama yaptığın işlere bakıp, sadece "fotoğraf" diyip geçemeyiz. "Performatif bir yaklaşımla fotoğrafik imajlar üretiyorsun" desem, daha rahat eder misin?

Nilbar Güreş: Fotoğraf işlerin bir kısmı performansların belge hali. Aslında fotoğraflama esnasında, figürler –her zaman- hareket etsinler istiyorum, ama kurmak istediğim videodaki gibi bir hareket de değil. Bu, ‘o anı’ figürler doğal bir eylemde bulunurken yakalamak gibi -daha çok. Burada oluşturmaya çalıştığım "setting", içerisinde kendi yerini arayan ve bulan, aslında kendi kendisini oynayan figürlerin oluşturduğu bir kadraj ya da performatif olmasına rağmen içinden "oyun" aksiyonunun çekip çıkarıldığı çekirdek bir aksiyona indirgenmiş, ama içinde hala (gizli saklı) sürprizler kesfedebildiğin bir sahneleme belki de...

AY: Bu bahsettiğin, üretim aşamasındaki belgeleme hali, performatif yaklaşımınla birleştiğinde, alışageldiğimiz dökümanter dilin aksine- "kurgusal" sahneler yaratıyor. İşlerinde, özellikle "Bilinmeyen Sporlar"da, sahne ve sahneleme problematiğini düşünürsek, izleyiciyi nereye oturtuyorsun?

NG: İzleyici, izlediği şeye ne kadar empati duyduğuna bağlı olarak, imajları olduğu gibi alıp fikir yürütebilir ya da kişisel tarihine bağlı olarak, işleri kendi biyografisi üzerinden okuyabilir. Aslında beni en çok, işlerin kadınlar tarafından nasıl okunacağı ilgilendiriyor. Erkek izleyicilerin gösterdikleri ilginin oranı ve imajlara dair yorumları ise onların cinsiyet rolleri ve dağılımı gibi konuları ne kadar kavradıkları hakkında ilginç sonuçlar belgeliyor. “Bilinmeyen sporlar”da oyuncular da aynı pozisyonda, kadınlar izleyiciler de. 11. Istanbul Bienali’nde gösterdiğim “Bilinmeyen sporlar” serisinin fotoğraf üçlemelerini hatırlarsak, o imajlarda herkes sırayla hem sahnede hem de izleyici olarak gündeme geliyorlar. Benim için, izleyicinin yeri de böyle bir yer demek ki...

AY: "Bilinmeyen Sporlar" nasıl doğdu? Kadına ait kodlarla işleyen, ağdadan tencereye her detayda adeta kendi ‘gösterinin’ alegorisine dönüşen bir seri. Benim özellikle ilgimi çeken kısmı, hep hor görülen "ev kadınına" atfedilen engin hayalgücünün sınırları...

NG: Cinsiyet rolünün en ağır taşıyıcısı olan kadın, işlevsellik ve klişe bir takım "kadınsılık imajlari" arasında sıkışıp, üzerine giydirilmeye çalışılan binbir role uyum sağlamaya çalışırken, hangi kostümlere bürünüp hangi aparatları kullanıyor? Kolajların içindeki ağda ve diğer ritüel imajları ise, güzelleşmek adına kadın kadına birbirimizden yardım alırken, aslında kadın kadına nasıl “kadın” olduğumuz üzerineydi. Erkeğe dair bir çaba olduğunda, bu çabalamanın özünde neye niyetle ve hizmetle olduğunu sorgulamadan birbirimiz ile dayanışıyoruz. Peki ya birbirimizi -başka bir cins icin birbirimizin yardımıyla güzelleşip yakınlaşırken- keşfedip, kadın kadına aşık olursak ne olur? Bu gibi düşüncelere bir de bazı kadın arkadaşlara ya da evvelden hiç tanımadığım kadınlara sorduğum bir soruya aldığım yanıtlar eklendi. Kadınlara hayat mücadelelerini hangi spor türüne benzettiklerini sormuştum. Gelen yanıtlar kolaj ya da fotoğraf olarak imajlaşarak seriye eklendiler ya da kamusal alanda yaptığım performansların spor türünü belirlediler.

AY: İşlerine bakarken, Latife Tekin'in "Sevgili Arsız Ölüm"ünü ya da Yaşar Kemal'in "İnce Memed"ini anıyorum. His olarak, adet gördüğünde annesinden tokat yiyen Dirmit'in şaşkınlığının (“Sevgili Arsız Ölüm”) ya da iftiraya uğrayan Hatçe'nin çaresizliğinin (“İnce Memed”) özdeşimlerine yakalamak mümkün...

NG: Kültürel bir deneyimciyim. Benim imajlarımdaki karakterler, oluşturdukları anlar ve hikayeleri benim benim yazmadığım ama içinde yaşadığım kitaplarımdan diyebiliriz... Deneyimlemek veya şahit olmak okumaktan daha sert olabiliyor. Bu sertlik, sanırım senin ifadende, okuduklarından gelen çağrışımlarıyla “Dirmit'in şaşkınlığı” ya da “Hatçe'nin çaresizliği” gibi yerlerde kendini bulmuş.

AY: Ama işler, edebi tadın yanısıra betimsel ya da ilüstratif değiller. Gelenekle ilişkililer ama yepyeniler. Metin ile görüntü arasında kurulan ilişkiler açısından, izleyicinin kendi hikayesini yazmasını talep ediyor musun? Ya da asıl nokta, ("non-narrative") hikayenin yokluğu mu, sonlandırılamaması ya da başının anlaşılamaması mı?

NG: Senin de takip ettiğin gibi son birkaç yıldır fotoğraf serileri üretiyorum. Serilerin içindeki imajlar bir zincirin ayrık duran parçaları gibi; birbirlerinden bağımsız ya da birlikte okunabiliyorlar. Serilerim olay mekanlarını (gercek ya da farazi), bu olaylardan alıntılanmış parçalarla birlikte gösteriyor. Sanırım imajlardaki farklı zaman ve dönemlere ait detaylar, bu detayların yerleştirilmesi ve figürlerle ilişkileri, kollektif hayal gücümüzü benim yaptığım alıntılar üzerinden tetikliyor ve izleyiciye kendi hikayesini nasıl sonlandıracağı seçeneğini -açık- bırakıyor.

AY: Beraber çalıştığımız "Correct me if I am critical" sergisinde, Berlin/Kreuzberg'teki Supportico Lopez adlı sanat mekanında, Nathalie Djurberg ile beraber aynı programda yer aldın ve "Undressing” isimli videonu gösterdin. Videoda, yüzü anonim bir karakter sürekli yeni bir örtünme biçimiyle karşımıza çıkıyor ve atfettiği kişiyi seslenerek, ‘soyunuyor’. "Undressing"in politik referansları bugün Türkiye'de hala üzerinde uzlaşılamayan kamusal bir tartışmaya meydan okuyor ve bence, asıl gücü malzemesinde. Örtünme estetiğini, bütün siyasi bağlamını ters çevirerek, kendi estetik diline geri götürerek, yeniden üretiyor. Kumaşlar, kişilerle özdeş bir halde, kişiselleşiyor.

NG: Bu performans, Avrupa’da özellikle 11 Eylül sonrası iyice yayılan İslamofobi, Avrupa’daki aşırı sağcı partiler tarafından tüketilen müslüman kadın imaji ve bu imajın kimliksizleştirilmesi politikasına bir tepki olarak doğdu. Evet, burada iş ters bir analoji üzerinden işliyor, örtünmeyi soyunmayla anlatıyor ve kumaşların kişiselleşmesi, işin içine biyografik bir öğe katıyor.

AY: Sadece fotoğraf değil, desen de üretiyorsun ve desenlerinde fotoğraf ve videolardaki kurguna sadıksın. Resimsel malzemen, fotoğrafik imajın içindeki elemanları daha da görünür kılıyor. Bir işin kurgusu üzerinde çalışırken, hangisi formu bulmana daha çok yardımcı oluyor; iş, hangi malzemeyle daha kolay çıkıyor? Desen mi önce geliyor, fotoğraf mı?

NG: 11. İstanbul Bienali’nde gördüğümüz işler, desen ve performanstan sonra oluşup ardından fotoğrafa dönüşmüş işlerdi. Berlin Bienalin’de gösterilen işlerin (“Çırçır serisi”) sürecine fotoğraf üretme motivasyonuyla başladım, ama her gün mekanda olup düşünemeyeceğim için, eskiz lerle ilerledim. Desen önce geliyor, çünkü bir şeyi çizmek bir ‘setting'i kurgulamaktan daha hızlı ve pratik ilerleyen bir süreç. Bahsettiğim şey, kaba bir taslak, fazlası değil. Ama hiç eskizi, deseni olmayan ve çekim mekanında belirginleşenler ise, tuhaf bir şekilde en güçlü olan işler olabiliyor.

AY: Bu söylediklerin etrafında, Trabzon'daki üretimlerine ve "Arıcı" serisine bakarsak, yani, "çekim mekanı" derken, kavramsal platonun tarifi açısından, bu işlerde mekanların ve coğrafyanın etkileri neler?

NG: Genelde bir işe başlamadan önce bu işin en iyi işleyebileceği mekanları arıyorum. Bazen de üzerinde çalıştığım hikaye, bu mekana beni kendiliginden götürüveriyor. Benim için doğru çekim mekanını bulmak; izini sürdügüm bir konunun zamana yayılmış hikayesini, doygun tek bir enstantaneye indirgemek için en uygun arenayı arayıp bulmak gibi. Trabzon'un yerel yaşantısını, çocukluğumun bazı yazlarından biliyorum. Bu seriye başlarken ilk motivasyonum, Trabzon'daki bu mekanın belleğimdeki izlerinden yola çıkmaktı. Beni, oraya yeniden bakma dürtüsü ve bu mekanı imajlarla nasıl dönüştürebilecegim fikri ilgilendiriyordu. Buradan yola çıkarak oradaki havayı ve rengi istediğim yönde yeniden kurgulayarak değiştirmeye dair bir ‘setting’ kurmayı denedim. Kısacası "TrabZone" serisi doğrudan bu coğrafyayla ilintili olarak ortaya çıktı.

AY: Özellikle WHW'nin Bienali'nde gösterdiğin "Bilinmeyen Sporlar" ve -terkedilmiş- Feriyeköy Rum İlkokulu ile ilgili olarak, işlerini gösterdiğin mekanların bağlamının işlerine nasıl katkısı oluyor?

NG: Sunumlar ayrı idi. Kolajlar Antrepo'daydı, fotoğraflar ise Feriköy Rum İlkokulu’nda. Kolajların Antrepo’daki sunumları daha klasikti. Biraz sıkışık bir mekanda olmalarından başka bir sorunu yoktu. 11. İstanbul Bienali’ne katılımımda, benim en memnun olduğum kısım, Feriköy Rum İlkokulu’nda olan fotoğrafların sunumuydu. Çünkü burada, “Bilinmeyen Sporlar”ın beden eğitimi dersi ile kurduğu çapraz bir ilişki sözkonusu. Kadın bedenine günlük hayat içerisinde nasıl hareket etmeyeceği buyurulurken, okulda tüm o edilemeyen hareketlerin benzerleri her beden eğitimi dersinde uygulanıyor. Daha doğrusu, öğrenci not almak için derse katılmak ve bu hareketleri bir şekilde uygulamak zorunda. Bir ya da bir buçuk saat içinde günlük hayatta yasak ya da abes olan belli hareketleri yapıp, bunun üzerinden not almak çok ironik bir durum oluşturmuyor mu? Okuldan çıkınca ise aksine o hareketleri yaparsan bu sefer toplumdan kötü not alıyorsun! Okulda yapılan sunum, duvarların rengi (kafanızdaki klasik bir sınıfın duvar boyası) ve işlerin asılış şekli beni çok memnun etti. Eğer ‘mekana üretmekten’ bahsediyorsan; -olabilir, mümkün, derim. Zaten, 6. Berlin Bienali katılımı da boyle bir süreçti. Küratörü, Kathrin Rhomberg benim için kişisel anlamlarla yüklü bir mekanda çalışmamı istedi. Ve işler, o mekanda yani o mekana üretilmis oldular.

AY: Berlin Bienali’nde sergilediğin “Çırçır” serisine yeniden bakmam için, mekanla nasıl çalıştığın ve küratörle nasıl ilişki kurduğuna dair ipucu verir misin?

NG: Bienalde gösterildikleri mekan, işler için asıl planlanmış yerleri değildi. Fakat bienalin küratörü Kathrin Rhomberg, serginin açılmasından kısa bir süre önce, işlerin dışarısı ile daha çok konuşan bir mekanda sergilenmesi fikri ile geldi ve sergi mekanı olarak, binanın parka bakan büyük camlarının olduğu, daha aydınlık bir bölümünü önerdi. Serinin daha büyük bir mekanda gösterilmek üzere tasarlandıktan sonra, dar aralıklarla daha küçük bir mekanda yanyana asılmış olmaları işlerimin belki belgesel bir nitelikte algılanmasına neden olmuş olabilir. Dil olarak. Aslında bir seriyi sergilemek, sergilendiği mekanın özelliklerine bağlı olarak her zaman kolay olmayabiliyor. Bu nedenle, her sergi mekanı, kendi mimari kurgusunu istiyor. Burada önemli olan, işin kendisi için talep ettiği mekanı kurabilmek.

AY: Önümüzdeki Nisan'da İstanbul’da bir solo sergin açılacak. Ardından hemen, yaratıcı direktörlüğünü benim yürüttüğüm Künstlerhaus Stuttgart’ta (Eylül 2011) açılacak solo sergin için çalışmaya başlayacağız. İki solo arasında, üretim süreci ya da kavramsal zemin açısından bir ilişki var mı? Zira, biri İstanbul, diğeri batı Almanya bağlamı...

NG: Berlin Bienali’nde gösterilmiş "Çırçır" serisi İstanbul'da ilk kez gösterilecek. Rampa'da gerçekleşecek sergi, daha çok "Çırçır" ve yeni ürettiğim "TrabZone" serilerinin tabanlarına oturuyor. Fotoğraf ve desenlerden olusan bir sergi olarak tasarlıyorum. Belki bir de video gösterecegiz. Künstlerhaus Stuttgart içinse, yine "Çırçır" ve "TrabZone" serilerinden, fakat en çok da seninle beraber Rampa'da göstermeyeceğimiz başka islere yoğunlaşmayı istiyorum. Bunun dışında video gösterimlerinin serginin bütünlüğü anlamında Künstlerhaus Stuttgart'da iyi işleyeceğine inaniyorum. Ayrıca bu sergi işin yeni işler; desenler üreteceğim ve zamanlama açısından mümkün olursa mekan içinde bir düzenleme fikri söz konusu olabilir. İşin içine bir takım objeler girebilir, yani Künstlerhaus Stuttgart'da ki sergi işlerim ve hangi medyaları nasil kullandığıms dair daha fazla ipucu taşıyacak gibi duruyor. 60'lardan başlayarak, Almanya’ya yerleşmiş Türkiyeli çok göçmen yaşıyor, dolayısıyla bu tarihin orada kurdugu başka bir bakış açısı sözkonusu. Bu bağlamda işlerin okunuşu da, oraya özgü olacak. İşlerimde, insan ilişkilerinde söz konusu olan klişeliştirilmiş ezberleri ters cevirmeye çalışmam, Stuttgart'daki sergide başka bir düzlemde işleyecektir. Batı’daki politik önyargılar ve orientalist bakış açısı ile karşılaşacak olmaları işlerin okunuşunu zenginleştirecektir...

not: Bu söyleşi geçen Şubat, ICE dergisinin Bahar 2011 sayısı için yapılmış, fakat yayınlanmamıştır.

STATION by Kim Einarsson & Adnan Yıldız

2011-08-11T15:08:00.000-07:00

From the screening, 27.05.2010 / Sergels Torg

STATION

Kim Einarsson & Adnan Yıldız

Station is a long-term project based on the idea of moving together in time and space towards a conceptual destination. The project started as a discussion about the contextual references of Konsthall C and was later shaped by curatorial and artistic research around questions of mobility, the transfer of narratives and discourses as well as regulations of the public domain. These discussions can also be applied to the context of the collaborating institution in this project: Künstlerhaus Stuttgart.

The project is based on a relatively long personal history. We (Kim Einarsson + Adnan Yıldız) were both based in Berlin where we worked as freelance curators. Consequently, we often carried projects into new contexts, bringing concepts from one place to another resulting in few opportunities to keep up a long-term dialogue with an audience. Sharing a close friendship, we worked in the same studio in Berlin and made collaborations at different levels. Within a year of each other, we both started working at institutions. Since January 2010, Kim Einarsson has been the director at Konsthall C. Adnan Yıldız started working at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart in 2011. This shared personal history of collaboration and previous mobile and short-term projects motivated us to create a long-term project that would search for alternative forms of exhibition making and developing critical thinking for the transformation of democratic society.

The story begins with questions of audience and public space…

Adnan was attracted by Kim’s invitation to make an exhibition at Konsthall C and especially to the idea of investigating the question of the relationship between the roles and positions of an audience and a citizen. Defining Konsthall C as a form of public space, the working process has been based on questioning the process of making discussions public as well as relating this action to the politics of an institutional setting. By initiating projects that use different formats, temporalities, levels of participation and that involve time-consuming processes and collaborations with different audiences, the program of Konsthall C continuously explores different modes of production and communication. Early on, the artists Aykan Safoğlu (Berlin/New York) and Lisa Torell (Stockholm) were invited to become our fellow travellers. In a number of works, both of them have focused on social movements and the politics of public space, albeit in very different ways.

Through a conceptual mode of thinking, we were interested in taking aspects of empirical thought and everyday reality into consideration. Any exhibition starts in one’s mind when one decides to visit it. It begins from the moment we decide to travel to it, both physically and mentally. Departing from this point, the abstracted form of our curatorial idea originated in the artistic experience, the role of the audience, and in Konsthall C as a station - a temporary stop and public site of our working process.

Konsthall C is situated in the Stockholm suburb Hökarängen that was built in the late 1940s and was once a typical manifestation of the Swedish welfare state and Social Democratic policy. The art space was founded on artistic motivations to investigate the democratic aspects of Modernist social planning. The urban plan of the suburb was made by the same architect who later went on to plan Sergels torg (Sergel’s Square, a public space in the very centre of Stockholm). Organized according to neighborhood planning ideals, Hökarängen consists of smaller neighborhoods with their own sub-centres. Konsthall C is located in such a centre, in a so-called ‘centre building’. The ‘C’ in Konsthall C stands for ‘Centre’. The building hosts a number of social services and small enterprises, and the exhibition space can be found in a former communal laundry. Part of the space is still used as laundry for the residents of the area. Konsthall C’s historical, geographical, and conceptual connection with the city centre as well as the actual experience of spending time in the public transport (on the green metro line) between the two places – from centre to centre - inspired us and the project.

The First Episode: The Bus At the Station

One of the most forceful motivations behind the project Station was the methodological aspect of the production process. The content of the project has been developed by the rule of learning by doing. Rather than taking already existing schemas, discourses or discussions, the process has been based on the idea of experimenting with the content. During our early discussions around the politics of movement and public domain, a film reference emerged and played a key role in how we approach public space, mobility, and the city.

The Bus / Otobüs (Tunç Okan, 1974) was shot at Sergels torg more than three decades ago, yet the story still retains a contemporary relevancy. The film is about a group of Turkish men who expect to arrive in Germany as migrant workers but are left in a bus in the middle of Stockholm without their passports or any money. The film was banned in Turkey for some years after the 1980 military coup but this did not prevent it from becoming a legend. The film starts with the bus arriving at Sergels torg, and displays a panorama of the location and of people on the street including the policemen, street musicians, demonstrators, tourists etc. Operating as a stage for a story about survival and alienation, the city turns into a jungle, a labyrinth or a prison, where the characters get lost and it all ends in tragedy.

As research material, the film provided us with a groundwork from which we could develop a grammar and common vocabulary, especially in relation to the way the film approaches the city. As a reference however, it was not known in the Swedish context. This motivated us to make a screening of the film the first event within the project. Taking this screening as a departure point, the physical experience of watching the film together on the location where it was shot 33 year ago, became a political gesture or a public intervention. We did not position it as an art event or promote it as a film screening. We did not make the director’s name public. All communications in relation to the screening were made using one sentence without any other references: “The Bus at the Station, 27 May 2010-21.00 Sergels torg”. This was the only information given to the audience. The idea of screening a film in order to develop content for an exhibition made the close collaborative nature of the project on a curatorial, organizational and editorial level very important. The screening was regarded by all of us to be the main experience in order to start the discussion. Lisa Torell had furnished Sergels torg with fifty plastic garden chairs of the standardised type you can find all over the world both for public and private use. The screening started with an animated text piece by Torell called Europe was global. A young filmmaker from Berlin, Kaan Müjdeci was visiting Stockholm the same week, and after the screening of The Bus, we also premiered his short movie, Tag der Deutsche Einheit (2009-2010), a comedy that takes place in Görlizter Park in Kreuzberg. Müjdeci’s film is about migrant thieves, the German attitude towards them and presents a walk through a public park as a daily adventure. Aykan Safoğlu documented both the preparation and the actual event.

During the screening, one of the greatest experiences was witnessing the everyday routine of Sergels torg unfold while simultaneously watching the film. There were a certain number of the audience and art professionals who knew about the film screening in advance, however the most striking outcome of the screening was having a lot of passers-by who stopped when they recognised their city, their public space and their sphere on the screen. The director Tunç Okan was there with us as was the producer of the film Gudrun Zachrisson Ones. They had not seen each other since the film was shot.

On the next day an open discussion was organized at Konsthall C with contributions from the director and the producer. An installation by Lisa Torell was exhibited which consisted of the repeated triangular patterns in black and white granite of Sergels torg made out of carpeting. The exhibition space also included monitors for the audience to watch The Bus and some other films such as Myglaren (Swedish for con-artist or charlatan) and I am Curious (Blue) as a bibliography for our discussions.

There were two important points that came up during the open discussion. When former actor Tunc Okan was talking about The Bus as his first directorial experience, he often used the term open script in his statements. He was shooting footage for the film in parallel with the process of writing the script with the cast. The scenario was developed after he read a story in the newspaper about innocent people being cheated when they were hoping to migrate to Germany. Departing from that story, he used the elements of Sergels torg and positioned the city as an open studio for his film. Taking a nightclub, a toilet or a metro station as a conceptual base, and providing the space for the actors to improvise, he was again and again testing what would/could happen when people encounter each other without a shared language or culture between them. The film inspired us in terms of how the city could operate as a place for the imagination. The way that the script came about brought us to the idea of focusing on the public space and considering its potentiality for social and political transformation and (un)controllability.

Kleine Reise: Stuttgart

After almost a year, the team (Kim, Adnan, Aykan and Lisa) met in Stuttgart for research meetings and worked at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart for several days discussing the question of what had stayed with them after the screening.

We were all a bit disappointed with the director’s current political agenda; a strong artistic mind was now more interested in market politics and telling sexist or nationalistic jokes. This was also a new challenge for us; to face artists as survivors of struggles from the legendary seventies, which was the ”real” time of politics and art. Listening to him when he was talking about how they made the movie in high quality / low budget conditions, we were impressed by his experimental approach. He was working with both amateur and professional actors in something akin to a workshop process and developing the script in relation to the architectural, social and political aspects of the film set. Today, he is based in Europe and his life has changed after he moved here. The nostalgic effect of the movie has definitely created an illusion for us; we expected him to be a sort of Che figure, but maybe we found him to be more like our parents, neighbours or elders who talk about money, sex and politics in an offhand manner and without any critical concern.

We read Image and Violence by Jean Luc Nancy, got drunk at a karaoke bar called Monroe’s, and talked about the Hauptbahnhof situation in Stuttgart (Kein Stuttgart 21). The terms political consciousness and political imagination have been released as crystalline concepts for future destinations…

Station C (Station at Konsthall C)

On Wednesday 31^st August 2011, we are opening the exhibition project Station C, which is the second episode in our series of public presentations. Artists Lisa Torell, Aykan Safoğlu, Sylvia Winkler/Stephan Köperl and Slavs and Tatars are contributing to the exhibition at different levels.

Lisa Torell is interested in the social and political changes of public space and freedom of speech. She studies the aesthetics and language of spatial and contextual conditions in order to both elucidate them and to bring them down to something we could all be part of or relate to. In her work for Station C, she deals with how the public space is regulated and organised and how it’s visual codes communicate with us. Vinyl photo prints that you normally would find on the streets as large advertisements are transformed in this instance into acrylic paintings in an exhibition space.

In relation to his academic background in film studies, Aykan Safoğlu (Berlin/New York) brought another reference from Iranian cinema into the project; Cafer Pahani’s Ayneh/The Mirror (1997). The film is about a little girl, Mina, who waits after school for her mother to pick her up. Her mother doesn't show up and Mina takes off across Tehran in search of her home. Halfway through the film, the little actress takes off the fake cast and then her headscarf announcing that she is not acting any more. She quits.

In Sylvia Winkler’s and Stephan Köperl’s (Stuttgart) project, STIEFKIND ZOB / Stepchild central bus station (2011) the point of departure is the new bus terminal -in Stuttgart- which has been relocated to the periphery of the city in an area largely defined by its marginalised community. Functioning as an iconic stage and demonstrating how public space is controlled and regulated by neo-liberal politics, the artists’ performance focuses on the organisation of space, through a song composed of lyrics about the bus schedules scored to the popular melody “Ich war niemals in New York”.

Slavs and Tatars define their practice as the study and creation of factional polemics and intimacies devoted to an area east of the former Berlin Wall and west of the Great Wall of China known as Eurasia. For Station C the collective has created a new series of work called Not Moscow Not Mecca that addresses the notion of cities as destinations. It also refers to the two major narratives of the 20^th and 21^st centuries, that of Communism and of Islam. Not Moscow Not Mecca is inspired by a policy of the Soviet Union in the mid 20^th century, called ’To Moscow Not Mecca’, of communising the Muslim peoples of Central Asia. This experiment inevitably failed, but it was a rare collision of culture, politics and ideals that took place without the mediation or triangulation of the West or capitalism.

Station C will also include a lecture and screening that will run in tandem with the installation at Konsthall C.

p.s. Get your free copy, The Station, Fall 2011, 10.000 copies...

STATION

coming soon

Opening on Wednesday

31st August 2011 18:00

Exhibition 31.08.2011-16.10.2011

at www.konsthallc.se in collaboration with www.kuenstlerhaus.de

Stuttgart, how are you doing? By Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer, and Adnan Yildiz

2011-06-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

Dan Perjovschi's “The Stuttgart 21 Edition” (2011)

Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart? / Stuttgart, how are you doing?

By Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer, and Adnan Yildiz

Thirty-three years ago Stuttgart based artists founded Künstlerhaus Stuttgart as an independent art space. Since then, it has developed into one of the most significant experimental platforms in Germany, especially regarding the conceptual diversity of artistic contributions and curatorial research. The curatorial team Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer and Adnan Yildiz share an interest in reconstructing those artistic motivations and curatorial experiments, which form the house's history and its identity. “Wie geht’s dir Stuttgart?” investigates the artistic positions and statements, which develop global perspectives on the local context.

The exhibition proposes the question “Wie geht's dir Stuttgart? / Stuttgart, how are you doing?” as a reflexive form of dialogue; bringing together new projects developed through studio visits, field survey, archive material and an open call. Following this research process the curators observed a tendency within the works, an emerging critical perspective concerning the social agenda of the city.

In Sylvia Winkler and Stephan Köperl's project, “Stiefkind ZOB” (Stepchild central bus station, 2011) the new bus terminal which has been relocated to the periphery of the city along with its marginalized community is discussed, functioning as an iconic stage and demonstrating how public space is controlled and regulated by neo-liberal politics. The discussion surrounding the train station project “Stuttgart 21” is extended critically with Dan Perjovschi's outstanding drawings, entitled “The Stuttgart 21 Edition” (2011). In collaboration with Württembergischer Kunstverein Stuttgart and Künstlerhaus Stuttgart’s Silk-Print Workshop, these limited edition prints will be available during the exhibition.

Stuttgart's dynamic history of technological developments, engineering, science and the new political landscape provide the basis for the latest installation from Hagen Betzwieser and Sue Corke. "The Sun Dies Anyway” (2011) develops a mechanical setting as a critique of the use of solar energy. Through the ingenious use of solar energy Betzwieser and Corke ironically generate precisely enough electricity to power a solarium and make it possible to become tanned inside the gallery. Recent concerns regarding the safety and use of Atomic Energy has resulted in international policy changes as well as impacting on the political landscape in Baden-Württemberg. Anahita Razmi's photograph, “Miss Atomic Bomb” (2011) refer to a series of propaganda photography from the 1950s developed by the United States government to sexualize and promote their Atomic bomb program. The photograph conveys a sense of the absurdity of contemporary life and refer to the artist’s Iranian background. The Iranian nuclear program has caused serious concern amongst the international community; yet our hunger for energy shows no sign of diminishing. In her other work, “China Girl” (2009) Razmi recreates the iconic feminine image which is mostly seen on Television test cards.

Turkish and Stuttgart-based artist Ülkü Süngün presents two C-print images from her ongoing project series of “transitional objects” (2011), which are available in Turkey and Stuttgart. She reconstructs experimental settings with ready-made objects creating open ended narratives of female identities and critical perceptions of domestic spaces.

Claude Horstmann's silkscreen prints (2007-2011) are formulated from found notes - scraps of paper found in various cities: Stutttgart, Marseille, Berlin and Paris. The anonymous notes comprised of simple lists, precise notes and prose are incorporated maintaining their original propositions into silkscreen prints allowing the visitor to take them out of the exhibition and reposition them into the public sphere. This relationship to the fabric of city life continues in Erik Sturm's “Speckring” (2009). Sturm focuses on the cultural heritage of the city and on the relationship to what is advertised on its surfaces. He investigates the posters that have been hung around the city for years - transforming them into sculptural objects with conceptualist approach. Sturm is interested in what is left over from the “Stadtkultur” and how advertising through a period portrays how everyday life changes outside in public spaces.

Bora Tanay's tangible relationship to the city transforms everyday images from everyday visual culture into a postcard format, “From Stuttgart with Love” (2011). Critiquing and paying homage to architectural forms developed in post-World War II Stuttgart, Tanay’s postcards offer us a unique perspective on the city with which we are closely connected with - and simultaneously allowing us to take this away and distribute the imagery.

An artist who is also a grant holder of the region (Graduiertenstipendium des Landes Baden-Württemberg) Simone Rueß investigates the topographical structures of the city, and transforms her research from the City Archive (Stadtarchiv) and the City Library (Stadt Bibliothek) into organic drawings, “S-Talkessel 2” (2008). In her own words the form at the end looks like "wings of an insect and repeats itself several times from Stuttgart to Bad Cannstatt”. This topological approach to the city structure continues through Chinese artists Chen Wang’s practice, after moving to Stuttgart in 2009 Wang approached the city with daily strolls through the streets in order to familiarise herself with the surroundings. Her work "Tag für Tag" (2010) was produced during several months and is a mirror of herself; a reflection of her surroundings, experiences and thoughts. Wang describes her work as being "entwined and confused, like a text, like a city”.

Florian Klette’s practice combines ritual and an interest in performance. Through his video work a connection between his own body and the natural rhythms of our existence are reflected on. “How to fight loneliness” (2008) includes a plastic bag inflating and deflating around Klette’s head, the drawing on the bag is visible and connects directly to the airflow responding to speed of his breath. “Formen hoher Nutzbarkeit/how to build a box around ones head” (2007) depicts Klette attempting to build a box around his head, showing the last seven attempts. “365 x 3 - Was es heißt, ein Archiv zu führen“ (2008-09) represents a disciplined approach featuring the artist singing one note every morning after waking up as an attempt to try and reach the same tone as the previous day without hearing it.

Performance artist Byung Chul Kim invites participants to do a 3 minute performance; participants will devise a performance based on what Stuttgart and its inhabitants are concerned with. The stage exists in the exhibition as a place for performers to test and devise their proposals. Entries can be accepted through June 29 2011; three prizes are available including two tickets to Museum Centre Pompidou Metz with the “Performance Express”; a selection of Künstlerhaus publications and a case of “Stuttgarter Hofbräu" beer. Each entry will receive a €3 fee, referring to German unemployment €1 jobs, paid for each minute of the performance.

The architecture collective NMA have produced a spatial intervention on the occasion of this exhibition at the launch of a new project space 10m2. Their concept provides the foundation for future exhibitions equipping the room with functional features developed out of “allreadymades”. Their use of transformable furniture alters the room depending on the type of artwork that is being exhibited. Stuttgart based architecture collective Kirchentrojaner specialize in collaborative projects with community groups and churches; resorting their meaning of public space and reversing the parishioners role of a casual observer to an active one. Kirchentrojaner will initiate “PRINZMETAL” (2011), formulated out of the idea that neighbourhood does matter, their intervention will advocate for new stories and images from a culture of learning and interference of art to the public. Their impulsive intervention will take place at some point during the course of the exhibition, their proposal and drawings hint towards a certain understanding of how they may execute their project. Follow their bulletin board for regular updates how the project is developing, this will shift and change through July 2011.

Referring to the history and legacy of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart is an important component of this exhibition. Founded in 2009 by Yildiz Aslandogan and Lukas Hofer, the architecture collective yvsl push the limits of conventional architecture and art by formulating radical proposals. As former Studio residents at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart their 'open proposal' (2011) is a research process and proposal within the framework of "Wie geht's dir Stuttgart?". It focuses on the existing and possible spatial conditions of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart and puts forward a future vision for its architectural realities and its connection with the city. Examples of their “open proposal” will be exhibited following their presentation on June 17 2011.

Filderbahnfreunde Möhringen (FFM) take the opportunity of traveling to Samara - Stuttgart’s partner city - in Russia to raise questions around networking, funding and non-profit spaces through their collaboration with the smallest art space in Samara. Their work is based on drawing vivid portraits of people who are engaged into the art community, and their ironic language reshapes the definitions of artist role and values of art works. Their installation in the fourth floor, “mehr brauchen wir nicht” (2011) references the space in Samara – an art space in a public toilet. Within the art context of the city, Künstlerhaus Stuttgart is part of a widening community of cultural institutions. As part of this exhibition the “Künstlerhaus Visits” series encompasses interventions on the artistic program of project spaces as well as discussions related to the history and dynamic practices that have existed in this region. It is fundamental to the Künstlerhaus Stuttgart to contribute to other exhibition venues and assist in promoting them to its community. Participating project spaces include Hermes und der Pfau, Oberwelt e.V., Self Service Open Art Space, Kunstverein Wagenhallen and the launch of a new project space 10m2.

For full program information please visit our website.

Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart?  Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer und Adnan Yildiz

2011-06-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Finissage, PRINZMETAL FESTIVAL 30.07.2011

Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart? / Stuttgart, how are you doing?

Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer und Adnan Yildiz

Vor 33 Jahren gründeten Stuttgarter KünstlerInnen das Künstlerhaus Stuttgart als unabhängigen offenen Kunstraum. Im Laufe der Zeit hat sich das Künstlerhaus zu einer der profiliertesten experimentellen Plattformen in Deutschland entwickelt, vor allem in Hinblick auf die kuratorische Forschung und die konzeptionelle Vielfalt der über die Jahre präsentierten künstlerischen Beiträge. Die KuratorInnen Adnan Yildiz, Michael Birchall und Regina Fasshauer, waren daran interessiert, jenen künstlerischen Antrieb und kuratorisch-experimentellen Ansatz nachzuvollziehen, die jeweils zu Gründung und Fortbestand des Künstlerhauses beigetragen haben und essentielle Teile seines historischen Erbes und seiner Identität bilden. Die Ausstellung untersucht künstlerische Positionen, die über den lokalen Kontext hinausweisend Perspektiven auf globale Fragestellungen entwickeln.

Mit der Frage „Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart?” will die Ausstellung einen reflexiven Dialog mit KünstlerInnen in Gang setzen. Atelierbesuche, Recherchen im Künstlerhaus-Archiv wie auch ein Open Call dienten als Ausgangspunkte für die Entstehung ganz neuer Arbeiten oder für die Einbeziehung bereits bestehender Werke. Das Ergebnis des Recherche-Prozesses ist eine deutliche Tendenz der künstlerischen Positionen hin zu kritischen Perspektiven auf aktuelle soziale bzw. gesellschaftspolitische Agenden.

So setzen sich Sylvia Winkler und Stephan Köperl in ihrem Projekt „Stiefkind ZOB“ mit dem neuen zentralen Omnibusbahnhof auseinander, der an die Peripherie der Stadt verdrängt wurde – zusammen mit einem marginalisierten Teil der Bevölkerung, der diesen Bahnhof nutzt. Der Omnibusbahnhof wird bei Winkler/Köperl zu einer ikonischen Bühne und macht deutlich, wie öffentlicher Raum von neo-liberaler Politik kontrolliert und verändert wird. Die Diskussionen um das umstrittene Bahnprojekt „Stuttgart 21“ spiegeln sich wider in den eindrucksvollen Zeichnungen von Dan Perjovschi. Unter dem Titel „Die Stuttgart 21 Edition“ (2011) entstand in Kooperation mit dem Württembergischen Kunstverein und der Siebdruckwerkstatt des Künstlerhaus Stuttgart eine limitierte Edition. Die Siebdrucke werden während der Ausstellung erhältlich sein.

Stuttgarts Geschichte technologischer Entwicklungen, Ingenieurskunst, Wissenschaft und die neue politische Landschaft bilden die Grundlage für die aktuellste Installation von Hagen Betzwieser und Sue Corke. The Sun Dies Anyway” (2011) behandelt auf ironische Art und Weise das Thema Solarenergie und liefert gleichzeitig einen Beitrag zur aktuellen Energiedebatte: die Arbeit besteht aus einem im Ausstellungsraum installierten Solarium, das mittels Solarkollektoren gespeist wird und es BesucherInnen ermöglicht, sich während ihres Ausstellungsbesuches bräunen zu lassen. Die aktuellen Diskussionen um die Sicherheit und den Ausstieg aus der Atomenergie resultierten in Richtungsänderungen in der internationalen Politik und wirken sich auch auf die politische Landschaft in Baden-Württemberg aus. Anahita Razmis Fotografie „Miss Atomic Bomb“ (2011) bezieht sich auf eine Serie von Propagandafotos, die die amerikanische Regierung in den 1950er Jahren genutzt hat, um ihr Atomprogramm mittels „Erotik“ zu propagieren. Die Arbeit vermittelt etwas von der Absurdität unserer Gesellschaft und bezieht sich auf die iranischen Wurzeln der Künstlerin. Die Entwicklungen in der iranischen Atompolitik sorgen für Besorgnis in der internationalen Gemeinschaft. Dennoch scheint sich unser Bedürfnis nach Energie kaum zu verringern. In der Arbeit „China Girl“ (2009) bildet Razmi das ikonenhafte Bild einer Frau ab, das oft auf Testbildern im TV zu sehen ist.

Die in Stuttgart lebende türkische Künstlerin Ülkü Süngün zeigt zwei Fotografien aus ihrer Serie „transitional objects“ (2011), die man in der Türkei und in Deutschland erwerben kann. Ihre experimentellen Aufbauten konstruiert sie aus gefundenen Objekten (ready mades). Ihre Bilder erzählen Geschichten über weibliche Identitäten und deren kritische Wahrnehmung im häuslichen Raum.

Der Ausgangspunkt der Siebdrucke (2007-2011) von Claude Horstmann sind gefundene Notizen – von Unbekannten verlorene oder fallengelassene Zettel, die die Künstlerin in unterschiedlichen Städten gefunden hat: in Stuttgart, Marseille oder Paris. Die anonymen Aufschriebe können aus einfachen Auflistungen, präzisen Stichworten oder auch aus Prosa bestehen. Unter Beibehaltung ihrer jeweils spezifischen Besonderheiten verarbeitet Claude Horstmann die Fundstücke zu Siebdrucken. In Form von Postern reproduziert können sie von BesucherInnen mitgenommen werden und ihren Weg zurück in den öffentlichen Raum finden.

Diese Beziehung zur Struktur des Lebens in der Stadt findet sich auch in den Arbeiten von Erik Sturm. Der Künstler verfolgt einen konzeptionellen Ansatz und richtet seinen Fokus auf das kulturelle Erbe der Stadt, indem er untersucht, was auf ihren Oberflächen beworben wird. In seiner Arbeit „Speckring“ (2009) setzt er sich mit Plakaten auseinander, die über Jahrzehnte hinweg auf Litfaßsäulen in Stuttgart aufgeklebt wurden und verwandelt sie in skulpturale Objekte. Das Interesse Sturms liegt auf dem, was von der Stadtkultur (visuell) übrig bleibt und wie auch durch Werbeplakate ein Portrait davon entstehen kann, wie sich über einen längeren Zeitraum hinweg das Alltagsleben an öffentlichen Orten verändert.

Bora Tanay verwandelt Bilder des Alltagslebens in ein Postkartenformat. „From Stuttgart with Love" (2011) ist sowohl Kritik als auch Hommage an die Nachkriegsarchitektur Stuttgarts. Bora Tanays Ansichtskarten bieten eine einzigartige Perspektive auf die Stadt, mit der wir eng verbunden sind - gleichzeitig dürfen wir die Karten mitnehmen und die Bilderwelt weiter verteilen.

Simone Rueß, Stipendiatin des Graduiertenstipendiums des Landes Baden-Württemberg, untersucht die Topografie der Stadt und transformiert ihre Forschungsergebnisse aus dem Stadtarchiv und der Stadtbücherei in organische Zeichnungen – „S-Talkessel 2“ (2008). Sie selber beschreibt die Form der Zeichnung als „Insektenflügel, die sich von Stuttgart nach Bad Cannstatt mehrere Male wiederholen“. Diese topografische Annährung an die Stadtstruktur setzt sich in den Arbeiten der chinesischen Künstlerin Chen Wang fort. Nachdem sie 2009 nach Stuttgart gezogen war, spazierte sie jeden Tag durch die Straßen der Stadt, um sich die neue Umgebung vertraut zu machen. Die Arbeit „Tag für Tag“ (2010) entstand über einen Zeitraum von mehreren Monaten und ist ein Spiegel ihrer selbst. Eine Reflexion über ihre Umgebung, Erfahrungen und Gedanken. Wang selbst beschreibt ihre Arbeit als „verschlungen und wirr, wie ein Text, wie eine Stadt“.

In Florian Klettes Arbeiten finden Ritual und ein Interesse am Performativen zusammen. In seinen Videoarbeiten reflektiert er die Verbindung zwischen seinem eigenen Körper und dem natürlichen Rhythmus unserer Existenz. In „How to fight loneliness“ (2008) sieht man über dem Kopf des Künstlers eine Plastiktüte mit einer skizzenhaften Zeichnung eines Gesichts. Dem Rhythmus seines Atems folgend entfaltet sich die Tüte und zieht sich wieder zusammen. „Formen hoher Nutzbarkeit/how to build a box around ones head” (2007) zeigt die letzten sieben von zahlreichen Versuchen Klettes, einen Kasten um seinen Kopf herum zu bauen. In der Audioarbeit “365 x 3 - Was es heißt, ein Archiv zu führen“ (2008-09) wird der Versuch präsentiert, wie der Künstler diszipliniert ein Jahr lang jeden Morgen nach dem Aufwachen einen bestimmten Ton singt und sich bemüht, exakt den Ton des Vortages zu treffen, ohne sich diesen erneut angehört zu haben.

Der Performance-Künstler Byung Chul Kim lädt ein zu einer „3 Minuten Performance”. Die Teilnehmer sollen eine Performance vorführen, die sich inhaltlich auf die Stadt Stuttgart bzw. die Themen, die die Einwohner beschäftigen, bezieht. Die Bühne als Ort der Performer wird während der gesamten Ausstellungsdauer sowohl zum Proben als auch während der eigentlichen Aufführung zu sehen sein. Jeder ist eingeladen, teilzunehmen; Anmeldungen werden bis zum 29. Juni 2011 angenommen. Als alleiniger Juror vergibt Byung Chul Kim drei Preise an die Gewinner: zwei Tickets für eine Fahrt im „Performance Express” in das Museum Centre Pompidou Metz; eine Auswahl von Künstlerhaus-Publikationen und eine Kiste „Stuttgarter Hofbräu”. Jeder Teilnehmer erhält drei Euro Preisgeld – einen Euro pro Minute, deutlich mehr als bei Ein-Euro-Jobs, die Arbeitslose in Deutschland annehmen müssen.

Im Kontext der Ausstellung „Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart?” hat das Architekten-Kollektiv NMA anlässlich der Eröffnung des neuen Projektraums 10m2 eine räumliche Intervention vorgenommen. Ihr Konzept, den Raum mit funktionalen Details auszustatten bildet die Grundlage für die zukünftigen Ausstellungen von 10m2. Durch wandelbares Mobiliar, das aus „ready mades” entwickelt wird, kann der Raum je nach Bedarf der kommenden Präsentationen verändert werden.

Der Fokus des Stuttgarter Architekten-Kollektivs Kirchentrojaner liegt auf gemeinsamen Projekten mit unterschiedlichen Gesellschaftsgruppen, insbesondere mit Kirchengemeinden. Sie greifen auf die Bedeutung öffentlicher Orte zurück und kehren die passive Rolle der Gemeindemitglieder in eine aktive um. Ihr Projekt “PRINZMETAL” (2011) basiert auf der Bedeutung des Nachbarschaftsgedankens. Eine künstlerische Intervention in das öffentliche Leben soll die Wahrnehmung von Kunst in der Öffentlichkeit und neue Ansichten zur Kultur des Lernens fördern. Die spontan durchgeführte Aktion wird während der Laufzeit der Ausstellung stattfinden, Ort und Zeitpunkt werden noch bekannt gegeben. Der jeweils aktuelle Stand des fortlaufenden Projekts kann im Ausstellungraum mitverfolgt werden, Skizzen, llustrationen und Texte der Kirchentrojaner vermitteln Hinweise und Hintergründe.

Der Bezug auf die Geschichte des Künstlerhaus Stuttgart ist wichtiger Bestandteil der Ausstellung. 2009 gründeten die ehemaligen Stipendiaten, Yildiz Aslandogan und Lukas Hofer, yvsl. Durch die Formulierung radikaler Konzepte wollen die Architekten die Grenzen konventioneller Architektur und Kunst erweitern. Im Rahmen von „Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart?” ist ihr „open proposal” (2011) Forschungsprozess und Vorschlag zugleich. Das „open proposal” von yvsl konzentriert sich sowohl auf bereits existierende als auch auf mögliche zukünftige räumliche Bedingungen des Künstlerhaus und entwickelt Visionen für die Architektur des Gebäudes und seine Verbindung mit der Stadt. Beispiele ihres „open proposals” sind nach einer Präsentation von yvsl am 17. Juni 2011 in der Ausstellung zu sehen.

Die Filderbahnfreunde Möhringen (FFM) haben die Möglichkeit genutzt in Stuttgarts russische Partnerstadt Samara zu reisen, um sich durch die Zusammenarbeit mit Samaras kleinsten Kunstraum mit Fragen wie Netzwerken, Funding und unabhängigen Ausstellungsräumen auseinanderzusetzen. Ihr Werk basiert darauf, lebendige Portraits von Personen aus dem Kunst-Kontext zu entwickeln; ihre ironische Sprache spielt mit der Rolle des Künstlers und dem Wert von Kunstwerken. Die Installation "mehr brauchen wir nicht ” (2011) im 4. Stock des Künstlerhaus bezieht sich auf den Projektraum in Samara - einen Ausstellungsraum in einer öffentlichen Toilette.

Innerhalb der Kunstszene Stuttgarts ist das Künstlerhaus Teil einer größeren Gemeinschaft kultureller Institutionen. Wichtiger Bestandteil dieser Ausstellung ist die „Künstlerhaus besucht” - Reihe. Geplant sind Interventionen in das künstlerische Programm Stuttgarter Projekträume sowie Diskussionen, die sich mit der Geschichte und Dynamik künstlerischer Praktiken in Stuttgart und der Region auseinandersetzen. Es ist ein wichtiges Anliegen des Künstlerhaus Stuttgart unabhängige Ausstellungsräume zu unterstützen und sein Publikum auf diese Orte aufmerksam zu machen. Teilnehmende Projekträume sind Hermes und der Pfau, Oberwelt e.V., Self Service Open Art Space, Kunstverein Wagenhallen sowie der neu eröffnete Raum10m2.

Ausführliche Informationen zum Programm finden Sie auf unserer Website.

„Alles aus Anfang"/"Back to First Position" / Nevin Aladag

2011-04-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

„Alles auf Anfang"

„Alles aus Anfang"/"Back to First Position"

Als eine Beobachterin der Kulturen untersucht die in Berlin lebende Nevin Aladağ menschliche Umgebungen und entwickelt nicht-narrative Geschichten, konzeptionelle Interaktionen und performative Interventionen. Nevin Aladağ interessiert sich für die Bedingungen des Zusammenlebens, das Teilen von Räumen, musikalischen Elementen und Ritualen, die Menschen verbinden.
Aladağ wuchs in Stuttgart auf, bevor sie mit Anfang 20 nach München zog, um ihr Studium an der dortigen Kunstakademie zu beginnen. Ihre erste große Einzelausstellung in ihrer Heimatstadt Stuttgart ist eine Ansammlung von Ideen, die dorthin zurückführen, wo sie ursprünglich entstanden sind oder ihre Wurzeln haben – so verspricht es der Ausstellungstitel, der bereits 2007 eine von Aladağs Installationen betitelt hatte, die damals in der Berlinischen Galerie in Berlin gezeigt wurde.

Diese Arbeit hat Aladağ nun für die architektonische Struktur des Künstlerhaus Stuttgart überarbeitet; sie beinhaltet Motorrad-Rückspiegel, auf denen Zitate aus verschiedenen deutschen und englischen Liedtexten eingraviert sind. Die Installation gleicht einem dynamischen Weg durch den Ausstellungsraum und verbindet die physische Erfahrung des Autofahrens mit dem Hören dieser Lieder.

In Aladağ’s Video-Arbeit „Lowrider Bellydance" (2004) spielen zwei Buben mit Autos. Begleitet durch orientalische Musik könnten die Autos direkt mit Bauchtänzerinnen assoziiert werden. Ein Spielzeugauto wird für Jungen meist als Identifikations-Instrument betrachtet, um die eigene Männlichkeit auszuloten. In diesem Video übernehmen nun die Spielzeugautos das Macho-Gehabe, um das eigene Territorium zu markieren. Die Musik rekonstruiert diesen Code der Geschlechter und wirft einen ironischen Blick darauf, wie Geschlechterrollen innerhalb der Gesellschaft reproduziert werden.
Indem sie formale Aspekte eines gewöhnlichen Basketballplatzes mit verschiedenen Teppichmustern kombiniert, erzeugt Nevin Aladağ einen weiteren konzeptionellen Zusammenprall zwischen verschiedenen Kosmologien der Kulturen. „Pattern Matching" (2010) ist eine Collage aus Elementen verschiedener orientalischer Teppiche - das archetypische kommerzielle Produkt aus dem Mittleren Osten – sowie Linien und Mustern eines Basketballfeldes - einer nordamerikanische Erfindung und eine der bekanntesten Sportarten, die aus den USA exportiert wurde.

Für die Video-Installation „Hochparterre [Mezzanine]" (2009) sprach Aladağ mit den Bewohnern der Naunynstraße aus Berlin Kreuzberg. Das Ergebnis ist ein überarbeitetes Video, in dem man die vielen Stimmen der Bewohner hört, allerdings nicht von ihnen selbst gesprochen, sondern als Playback-Stimmen, nachgesprochen von einer Schauspielerin, die durch ein Fenster blickt. Als eine Collage aus öffentlichen Äußerungen oder Kurzgeschichten, bildet das Video eine konzeptionelle Basis für die Entwicklung eines kollektiven und poetischen Texts über die Stadt, ihre verborgene Geschichte und ihre unterbewusste Erinnerung.
Als erster Teil einer Serie von Videoarbeiten, ist „City Language I" (2009) eine Art audio-visuelle Postkarte, die die Stadt Istanbul als einen Klangteppich aus Musikinstrumenten, Wind, Wasser, der Architektur und aus Taubengegurre einfängt. Als orchestrale Collage aus verschiedenen Klangmustern traditioneller Instrumente und der experimentellen Erfassung des Klangs urbaner Realität in Istanbul, portraitiert die Arbeit die Körperlichkeit des Lebens in der Stadt.

„Voice over"(2006) zeigt eine Trommel in einem Park während eines Winterregens. Das fotografische Bild ist ein Fragment, das nicht nur ein Bild, sondern auch die Repräsentation eines Klangs darstellt. Betrachtet man, wie die Regentropfen auf die Trommel fallen, kann man ihren Klang förmlich hören.
Eine weitere Installation, die lautlos Musik erklingen lässt, wurde für diese Ausstellung reproduziert: „Ein bisschen Rock ’n’ Roll" (2001/2007). Verschiedene Objekte, wie man sie nach einer Party finden kann - eine zerbrochene Discokugel, eine alte Gitarre und getragene Strumpfhosen - ergeben das Sinnbild von Rock 'n' Roll.

Die Außeninstallation „Neulich" an der Fassade des Künstlerhauses wurde nach Istanbul, Berlin und Nizza ebenfalls für „Alles auf Anfang“ reproduziert - dieses Mal jedoch mit einem direkten Bezug zu Stuttgarts sozio-ökonomischem Profil. Die Lage des Künstlerhauses in Stuttgart-West und seine benachbarte Umgebung aus Büros, Banken und einer Wirtschaftsschule sowie die Geschichte des Hauses als einstige Kofferfabrik einbeziehend, kommuniziert „Neulich" direkt mit dem umliegenden Außenraum. Durch direkte Referenzen wie einen maßgeschneiderten Anzug mit Hemd, Krawatte und Schuhen, der kopfüber aus einem Fenster des Künstlerhauses hängt, tritt die Arbeit als eine Skulptur im öffentlichen Raum in einen Dialog mit der Stadt, als ein ironisches Monument des Risikos und Misserfolgs.

In einem intensiven Dialog mit dem Team im Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, mehreren Recherche-Aufenthalten in Stuttgart und in der Zusammenarbeit mit Adnan Yildiz, dem Künstlerischen Leiter des Künstlerhauses, hat Aladağ den Produktionsprozess ihrer Einzelausstellung „Alles auf Anfang" als Möglichkeit genutzt, eine monographische Perspektive auf ihre künstlerische Praxis zu entwickeln. Die Auswahl einzelner Werke, die Art ihrer Reproduktion und Installation zielten darauf ab, wesentliche Spuren und signifikante Richtungen ihrer Arbeit zu beschreiben.

Aladağ definiert den Ausstellungsraum als Atelier, in dem sie ihre konzeptuellen Experimente mit verschiedenen Materialien fortsetzen kann; Ihre poetische Sprache und der dokumentarische Wert ihrer Arbeiten sind in dieser Ausstellung einzigartig miteinander kombiniert, um das Publikum dazu einzuladen, die Arbeiten im Kontext jener Stadt zu betrachten, in der sie entstanden sind.

Nevin Aladağ's "Back to First Position / Alles auf Anfang"

2011-04-21T17:33:00.000-07:00

Nevin Aladağ: "Neulich/Recently", Installation, Berlin/Nizza/Istanbul/Stuttgart, 1997/1998/2003/2011

Nevin Aladağ's "Back to First Position / Alles auf Anfang"

As a cultural observer with an artistic eye Berlin based artist Nevin Aladag investigates human settings and develops non-narrative stories, conceptual interactions and performative interventions. She is always interested in conditions of living together, sharing spaces, musical elements and rituals that connect people.

Aladag grew up in Stuttgart until her early twenties before going to the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich. “Back to First Position / Alles auf Anfang” is her first major exhibition in her home city, Stuttgart. Aladag`s solo project at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart brings together a compilation of ideas, which come back to where they were first born or have their roots promising its title. The exhibition title is borrowed from an earlier installation (2007), shown at Berlinische Galerie, Berlin.

Revising the piece for the architectural structure at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, Aladag installs motorcycle rear-view mirrors engraved with extracts of lyrics from different German and English songs. The installation creates a dynamic route in the exhibition space, and proposes a link to the physical experience of driving meanwhile listening to these songs.

In Aladag`s video piece "Lowrider Bellydance" (2004) two boys play with toy cars, and due to the Oriental music playing in the video, the cars can be directly associated with belly dancers. A toy car is mostly recognized as an instrument identifying with masculinity for boys, and in this video, the toy cars adopt posing macho behavior in terms of defining their territory. The music reconstructs this gender code creating irony on how gender roles are reproduced in society. Bringing formal aspects of any basketball playground with different forms of carpets, Nevin Aladag designs another conceptual crash between diverse cosmologies of culture. “Pattern Matching” (2010) is a collage of elements from various oriental carpets that represent the archetypical commercial product from Middle East, whereas it reflects the borders and patterns of basketball, a North American invention and one of the most famous sports exported from the USA.

For the video installation “Hochparterre [Mezzanine]” (2009) Aladag spoke with the residents of Naunynstrasse from Kreuzberg, Berlin, and the result is an edited video as an assemblage of many voices that are play backed or re-performed by an actress looking through the window. As a collage of public statements or short stories, it creates a conceptual base for developing a collective and poetic text about the city, its hidden history and subconscious memory. As the first part of a series of video works, “City Language I” (2009) is an audio-visual postcard, capturing İstanbul through the interactions of musical instruments with the wind, water, architecture and pigeons. As an orchestral collage of different sound-samples from traditional instruments with an artistic approach of experimenting on how everyday life and urban reality sound in Istanbul, the work portraits the physicality of living in the city as a soundsscape.

“Voice over" (2006) depicts a drum in the middle of a park in Winter when it is raining. The photographic image represents a fragment that is not only an image, but also an image that represents sound. Looking at the drum under the raindrops brings allows us to imagine the sound from the rain that falls on the drum. Another installation that silently represents the physicality of music, is reproduced for this show; “Ein bißchen Rock ́n` Roll, [A little bit of Rock ‘n’ Roll], (2001/2007). Different objects that you can find around at an after-hour party such as a broken mirror ball, an old guitar and used stockings come together to rock ‘n’ roll.

Her outdoor installation “Recently” is also reproduced for “Back to First Position / Alles Auf Anfang” after Istanbul, Berlin and Nice –but this time, it can be considered as a direct reference to Stuttgart’s socio-economical profile. Considering the location of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart in Stuttgart West, and its neighbors such as offices, banks and business school, and its history as a factory, “Recently” urgently communicates with outside, with the street, with the city as an ironic monument of risk and failure with its direct references, which are custom-made materials such as a suit sewn together with a shirt, a tie and shoes hanging upside down as a public sculpture.

During the process of an intense dialogue with the team working at Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, and after several research visits to Stuttgart, Aladag has clearly taken the production process of her solo exhibition, “Back to First Position / Alles Auf Anfang” as an opportunity to develop a monographic perspective on her practice in collaboration with Adnan Yildiz. The selected works, their reproduction and installation have been based on defining basic tracks and significant directions in her work.

Aladag positions the exhibition space as a studio where she can continue her conceptual experiments with diverse materials; her poetic language, and the documentary value in her work are uniquely combined together in this show to invite the audience to look at the works at the city –where they were created.

KÜNSTLERISCHE DIALOGE I: Şener Özmen und Nevin Aladağ

Ausstellung 21. April 2011 - 29. Mai 2011

Şener Özmen: Die Geschichte von Şener Özmen

Nevin Aladağ: Alles auf Anfang

www.kuenstlerhaus.de

Die Geschichte von Sener Özmen / The Story of Sener Özmen

2011-04-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

Die Geschichte von Sener Özmen / The Story of Sener Özmen

Die Arbeiten des in Diyarbakir lebenden kurdischen Künstlers Şener Özmen sind von der geopolitischen Realität Südanatoliens geprägt. Sie sind nicht nur als offene Kritik an staatlicher Gewalt und einem militaristischen Regime zu verstehen, sondern auch als loses Tagebuch der Fantasie und des Widerstands. Özmens Videoarbeiten sowie seine literarischen und fotografischen Werke handeln von der Problematik, ausgehend von der Peripherie eine kritische Position gegen eine zentralisierte Macht einzunehmen. Er beteiligt sich aktiv an politischen Diskussionen und engagiert sich für künstlerische Kooperationen. Ebenso setzt er sich durch eigene Texte und Übersetzungen dafür ein, dass die Kurdische Sprache, die in der Türkei starken Restriktionen unterliegt, Eingang in die türkische Literatur und Kunst findet.

Seine Zusammenarbeit mit Erkan Özgen für das Video „The Road to Tate“ (2003) sowie mit Cengiz Tekin für „The Meeting or Bonjour Monsieur Courbet" (2004) erfuhren internationale Anerkennung für ihre besondere Form der Video-Sprache, die das Verständnis für künstlerische Forschung und Produktion einer Generation von (Video-)Konzeptkünstlern aus einer spezifischen Region reflektiert.

Ein Forschungsaufenthalt von Adnan Yildiz, des Kurators dieser Ausstellung, in Diyarbakir sowie regelmäßige Gespräche zwischen Yildiz und Şener Özmen kreisten um die Frage, wie Özmens frühe Werke, die zuvor in unterschiedlichen Kontexten gezeigt wurden, so überarbeitet oder abgeändert werden könnten, dass sie in einer Einzelausstellung in Stuttgart sowohl den Kontext der Stadt als auch die Architektur des Künstlerhauses berücksichtigten.

Manchmal erscheint Özmen in seiner eigenen Arbeit als ein Anti-Held, der mit Konstruktionen aus verschiedenen Genren und Stilen spielt, was oft dazu führt, dass er sich diese Konstruktionen aneignet und zu seinen eigenen Statements macht.

Die Fotoserie aus dem Jahr 2003 mit dem Titel „Supermuslim" ist als Rekonstruktion einer bereits existierenden Arbeit in Form einer Tapete in den Raum intergriert. Als muslimischer „Superman" betet Özmen, als würde er einer Anleitung folgen, die muslimischen Kindern das richtige Beten lehrt. Aus einer Perspektive nach dem 11. September 2001 heraus wird der kritische Wandel politischer Identitäten und der Post-Politisierung religiöser Konflikte in Form einer vereinheitlichten fiktionalen Identität verhandelt: wer ist schon gleichzeitig „Superheld” und „Muslim”?

Während der Entwicklung der Ausstellung bot sich die Möglichkeit, eine weitere von Özmens älteren Arbeiten in einen aktuellen Kontext zu stellen. Sein Künstlerbuch „The Story of Tracey Emin" aus dem Jahr 2000 wird von Edition Taube, einem Stuttgarter Verlag für Künstlerbücher überarbeitet und neu herausgegeben. Das Buch basiert auf einer Kurzgeschichte über die Figur Abdülbaki, die Tracey Emin entführen will. Es beinhaltet Illustrationen, Notizen und Bilder und fügt sich zu einem fiktiven Tagebuch zusammen. Özmens Arbeit „aus der Peripherie heraus“ ermöglicht es ihm, eine humorvolle Sprache über die Zentralisierung der zeitgenössischen Kunst und ihrer Funktion als „Ruhmes-Industrie“ zu entwickeln.

Im zweiten Stockwerk des Künstlerhaus Stuttgart wird das Publikum mit einer Videoarbeit in einer Black-Box-Konstruktion konfrontiert. „Unser Dorf" aus dem Jahr 2004 zeigt zwei junge Mädchen, die Playback zu einem kurdischen Lied singen. In dem Lied wird ein Dorf in der Nähe des Bingöl-Gebirges in Südanatolien beschrieben. Das „Musikvideo” beginnt zunächst heiter und lädt den Betrachter durch die Untertitel ein, mitzusingen. Im Laufe des Films erlebt der Betrachter die Jahreszeiten am Bingöl-Gebirge und erhält einen Eindruck sozialer Wirklichkeit, dem nichts Heiters mehr anhaftet.

Um die Video-Box herum befinden sich aktuelle Fotoarbeiten von Özmen, jedes Bild basiert auf unterschiedlichen Assoziationen und Referenzen: „Catharsis" reinterpretiert Heraklits berühmten Satz: „Man kann nicht zweimal in denselben Fluß steigen": eine Verhöhnung von GAP (Güneydoğu Anadolu Projesi), dem aktuell größten regionalen und Milliarden Dollar teuren Entwicklungsprojekt in Südostanatolien.

„The Flag" ironisiert die Zeremonie des Flagge-Hissens als ein Ritual, das Nacken-Versteifungen verursacht. „Seyhmus und Ilhan" evoziert die Neugier darauf, wie groß die Intimität zwischen zwei Männern sein kann. In allen Fotografien gelingt es Özmen, offen Kritik zu üben und diese gleichzeitig in einen narrativen Rahmen zu überführen.

"The Story of Şener Özmen / Die Geschichte von Şener Özmen" präsentiert außerdem eine Gemeinschaftsarbeit von Şener Özmen und Cengiz Tekin, eine Reihe von Videoarbeiten in vier Teilen mit dem Titel „The Original Message": Hope, View, Bravo, und One Day a "T" and a "K"(2006-09). Gewidmet der Situationistischen Tradition und auf Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft verweisend, operieren diese vier Videos mit verschiedenen Effekten und technischen Formaten als autobiografische Bruchstücke experimenteller Erzählungen.

Nach 21 Jahren künstlerischer Arbeit und politischen Widerstands ist „The Story of Şener Özmen" die erste Einzelausstellung des kurdischen Künstlers. Die Ausstellung bringt neuere Werke mit früheren Arbeiten zusammen, mit dem Ziel, die konzeptuelle Haltung und ironische Sprache Şener Özmens mit der Diskussion über die Repräsentation aktueller Politik zu verbinden.

The Story of Sener Özmen / Die Geschicte von Sener Özmen

2011-04-18T17:26:00.000-07:00

Şener Özmen: "The Flag", C-print, 100 x 150 cm, 2010

The Story of Sener Özmen / Die Geschicte von Sener Özmen

Diyarbakir-based Kurdish artist and writer Sener Özmens work is shaped within the geopolitical reality of South Anatolia of Turkey, where he lives and works - not only as an open critique of state violence and militarist regime, but also as loose diary of resistance and imagination. His video, literary (poetry, fiction, novel) and photography works deal with the problems of taking critical positions against the centralization of power at the periphery. He is actively involved in political discussions and engaged with artistic collaborations, as well as being interested in the transition of Kurdish from a restricted language in Turkey into literature and art through writings and translations.

His collaborative video work with Erkan Özgen, "The Road to Tate" (2003) and "The Meeting or Bonjour Monsieur Courbet"" (2004) in collaboration with Cengiz Tekin, created international recognition; as they used a specific form of video language that reflects notions of artistic research and production in a specific region of Turkey - developed by a generation of conceptualist Kurdish (video) artists.

Adnan Yildiz’s research visit to Diyarbakir, and regular discussions between Yildiz and Sener Özmen have directed the question of how some of his previous works that have been shown before in various contexts can be revised or reconstructed into a solo presentation regarding the context of Stuttgart and architectural reality of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart.

Özmen sometimes appears in his own work like an anti-hero, and mostly plays with constructions of different genres and styles, and this often results in him turning them into his own statements. The photography series from 2003, entitled "Supermuslim" is reprinted as wallpaper being attached to the space as a regeneration of an already existing work. As a Muslim ‘Superman’, Özmen prays as if he is following the instructions from a "how to pray" book that teaches prayer for Muslim children. From a post-9/11 perspective, critical transitions of political identities and the post-politicization of religious conflicts are reflected on one fictional identity: who is a "Super hero" and "Muslim" simultaneously.

The exhibition process has provided another opportunity of bringing another piece back to a contemporary context; an artist book from Sener Özmen, "The Story of Tracey Emin" (2000). This is reissued as a publication by Stuttgart-based publishing house Edition Taube. The book is based on a short story about a character called “Abdülbaki Readymade”, who wants to kidnap Tracey Emin and is comprised of illustrations, notes, and images forming a fictive diary. Sener's position emerging from the periphery enables him to develop a humorous language about the centralization of contemporary art and its function as fame industry.

At the centre of the second floor of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, the audience is confronted with a video work in a black box construction, ‘Our Village’ (2004) depics two young girls playbackinga Kurdish song. The song portrays a village, near to Bingöl Mountain in South Anatolia. Like a music video with subtitled lyrics, the video invites us to participate with a joyful start. As the video progresses the emotions move through seasons at Bingöl Mountain: spring, summer, fall and winter - leaving a hit of social reality on our face.

Surrounding this construction, there are recent photography works from Özmen, and each image is based on different associations and references: “Catharsis” reinterprets Heraclitus`s famous saying, "You cannot step twice into the same stream" as a mockery of GAP, the most important and multi billion dollar development project in Turkey.“The Flag” ironically shows a flag ceremony as something that causes crick, “Seyhmus and Ilhan” creates a curiosity about the level of intimacy between two men. In each of them, Özmen manages to leave the audience with a frame that allows the narrations to exist as open critique.

"The Story of Sener Özmen / Die Geschicte von Sener Özmen" presents a collaborative work from Sener Özmen and Cengiz Tekin; series of videos titled as “The Original Message” in four parts: Hope; View; Bravo; and One Day a "T" and a "K” (2006-09). Dedicated to the Situationist tradition, and referring to the past, present and future these four videos with different effects and technical formats operate as autobiographical fragments of experimental narrative.

"The Story of Sener Özmen" is the first solo exhibition after twenty-one years of artistic life and political resistance in terms of long term research, production, and display. It brings together recent works with earlier ones aiming to link his conceptual attitude and ironic language to the discussion of representation of politics today.

KÜNSTLERISCHE DIALOGE I: Şener Özmen und Nevin Aladağ

Ausstellung 21. April 2011 - 29. Mai 2011

Şener Özmen: Die Geschichte von Şener Özmen

Nevin Aladağ: Alles auf Anfang

www.kuenstlerhaus.de

Stuttgart, Forum der Kulturen, April 2011, Angelika Brunke-interview mit Adnan Yildiz

2011-04-07T17:09:00.000-07:00

„Ich verstehe meine Arbeit als Forschung“

Seit Januar 2011 hat das Künstlerhaus Stuttgart einen neuen Leiter: Adnan Yildiz. Der 31-jährige Türke hat seine Arbeit mit einer international besetzten Gruppenausstellung mit dem Titel „Echt?“ begonnen. Für die kommenden vier Jahre hat er spannende Pläne.

Angelika Brunke: Für einen Kurator haben Sie einen ungewöhnlichen Werdegang. Sie haben in Istanbul zunächst Psychologie studiert. Wie kamen Sie von der Psychologie zur Kunst?

Adnan Yildiz: Eins vorweg: Ich hatte nie vor, Psychologe zu werden, sondern habe das Fach gewählt, weil ich als Autor arbeiten wollte. Ich hoffte, auf diese Weise mehr über Charaktere zu erfahren. Während des Studiums habe ich mich deshalb mit Wahrnehmung, Lernen und Psychoanalyse beschäftigt. Dabei hat mich eine Frage nicht losgelassen: Welches Verhältnis haben wir zu Bildern? Von diesem Punkt aus war es nur ein Schritt zur bildenden Kunst.

AB: Sie haben später in Stockholm eine Kuratorenausbildung absolviert. Haben Sie die Schriftstellerei damit an den Nagel gehängt?

AY: Ich habe eine andere Form des Schreibens entdeckt: Ich schreibe mit Bildern. Anders gesagt: Meine Ausstellungen erzählen Geschichten. Aber ich schreibe nicht nur in diesem übertragenen Sinne, sondern auch ganz konkret: Das gehört zur Arbeit eines Kurators einfach dazu.

AB: In der Kunstszene sprechen normalerweise alle Englisch. Sie haben sich das Ziel gesetzt, bis Juni Deutsch zu lernen. Was motiviert Sie dazu?

AY: Ich werde in den nächsten Jahren in Stuttgart leben und will in dieser Zeit für das Künstlerhaus ein künstlerisches Programm ausarbeiten. Da liegt es nahe, dass ich Deutsch lerne. Schließlich will ich ja am sozialen Austausch teilhaben. Ich habe vor, öffentliche Diskussionen in Gang zu bringen, möchte Teil der Künstler-Community werden und dort sein, wo Leute kritisch denken. All das kann ich nur erreichen, indem ich Deutsch lerne.

AB: Wie verstehen Sie Ihre Aufgabe als Kurator?

AY: Ich verstehe meine kuratorische Arbeit als Forschung. Gegenstand meiner Forschung ist das Publikum, beziehungsweise die sich wandelnde Bedeutung des Betrachters in der zeitgenössischen Kunst. Mich interessieren die Vorstellungen und Idealbilder einer Gesellschaft und das kollektive Unbewusste.

AB: Mit welchen Zielen treten Sie Ihre Stelle als Leiter des Künstlerhauses an?

AY: Das Programm selbst ist eine Art Laboratorium, in dem ich mit den Ausstellungen, aber auch mit der Institution selbst experimentiere. Ich möchte gerne eine jüngere und in ihrem sozialen und kulturellen Hintergrund gemischte Zielgruppe ansprechen. Im Haus sind etliche Künstlerateliers untergebracht und es finden Kunstkurse statt – beides möchte ich gerne ins Ausstellungsprogramm einbinden.

AB: Was verstehen Sie unter „Experiment“?

AY: Wenn Du Dich selbst nicht überraschen kannst, kannst Du auch die Besucher nicht überraschen. Experimentieren bedeutet für mich, mit den Erwartungen und dem Unerwartbaren zu spielen.

AB: Haben Sie als neuer Leiter etwas an den Strukturen des Hauses verändert?

AY: Ja. Eine meiner ersten Aktionen bestand darin, dass ich das Eintrittsgeld abgeschafft habe. Die Ausstellungen sind nun alle kostenlos. Derzeit versuche ich, Finanzierungen aufzutun, um auch die Mitgliedsbeiträge aufzuheben. Wenn die Mitgliedschaft in einer Institution wie dem Künstlerhaus nicht mehr auf finanziellen, sondern auf anderen Beiträgen beruht: Wie wirkt sich das auf die Mitglieder und ihre Zahl aus?

AB: Spielt dabei das Thema Migration eine Rolle?

AY: In den nächsten Ausstellungen nicht explizit, aber viele der gezeigten Arbeiten reflektieren die öffentlichen Debatten zu diesem Thema.

AB: Zeitgenössische Kunst steht im Ruf, schwer verständlich zu sein. Richten sich die Ausstellungen im Künstlerhaus vornehmlich an Insider?

AY: Meine Arbeit basiert natürlich auf Theorien, aber bin überzeugt, dass eine gute Ausstellung neue Werte, Diskussionen und Gedanken schaffen kann – und zwar bei jedem Betrachter. Meine Mutter, mein Yoga-Lehrer und mein Partner haben ganz unterschiedliche Lebenserfahrungen, aber sie fühlen sich doch gleichermaßen einbezogen in diese Diskussionen – genauso wie Künstler und Kunstkritiker. Ich bin allerdings kein Populist. Blockbuster-Ausstellungen reizen mich nicht.

AB: Was erwartet die Besucher bei der kommenden Ausstellung im Künstlerhaus?

Unsere nächste Ausstellung eröffnet am Mittwoch, 20. April. Wir starten mit einer neuen Reihe, die „Künstlerische Dialoge“ heißt. Dahinter verbergen sich jeweils zwei Einzelprojekte, die zur selben Zeit im Künstlerhaus gezeigt werden. Den Anfang machen Şener Özmen, ein kurdischer Künstler aus Diyarbakır im 2. Stock und Nevin Aladağ aus Berlin im 4. Stock.

ARADA BİR: İMAJ POLİTİKALARI, Adab-ı Muaşeret

2011-02-28T02:29:00.001-08:00

ARADA BİR: İMAJ POLİTİKALARI

Adab-ı Muaşeret

Show Tv’de bir zamanlar Nurseli İdiz’in sunduğu bir program vardı. Ergenliğimi kendi halinde geçirirken hiç kaçırmadan izlediğim “Saklambaç”, yarışmacıların bir paravanın arkasından –sorularına- gelen cevaplara göre üç adaydan birini seçtiği bir “dating” programıydı. Paravan açılırken, ertesi akşam limuzinle yemeğe gidecek çiftin kimler olacağı belli oluyor, hepimiz neşe içinde bir sonraki adaylara ve yarışmacıya geçmek için sabırsızlanıyorduk. Paravan açıldıktan sonra olacaklar pek ilgimizi çekmiyordu; programın eğlencesi paravan kapalıyken sorulan sorular ve verilen cevaplarda gizliydi.

Sorular “özel” durumlarda karşı tarafın nasıl davranacağını sorarak, karşıdaki kişiyi tanımaya yönelikti. Diyelim ki, “sevgililer gününde hediye almayı unuttun ve eve geldin; mumlar ve çiçeklerle süslü bir sofra ile karşılaştın, ne yaparsın?” türevi sorular aslında bir ergenlik efsanesi olan ve halk arasında “cesaret mi-dürüstlük mü” olarak bilinen (şişe çevirmece) flört oyunlarının bir uzantısı, televizyon gerçekliğine adapte edilmiş biçimiydi... “Saklambaç” gelin-damat adaylarının potansiyel kaynanalarla birlikte aynı evde yaşadığı reality-show’lardan, müstakbel eşlerine ev tapusu sözü veren yaşını başını almış amcaların izdivaç programlarına çıkmasından epey önceydi; yani, bugünkü izlediklerimizden daha “light” ya da daha “soft” bir kurguydu. “Saklambaç”ın Türkiye’nin modernleşme sürecine en az Şapka Devrimi kadar katkıda bulunduğunu söyleyebilirim; görücü usulünden muhallebici randevularına doğru yumuşak bir geçiş yapan ilişkilenme tarihimizde, bir mihenk taşı olarak, kendinden sonraki “Sex and the City” kuşağının ortaya çıkmasına yol açtı.

Ne de olsa, yalnızlık, Allah’a mahsus. Bugün ‘dating’ sitelerine bakınca, müslümanlardan ulusalcılara kadar (gonuldensevenler.com ya da turkevlilik.com gibi) her kesimin kendi ilişki dilini, kurallarını ve alanını kendi kontrol mekanizmalarına ve değer yargılarına göre belirlediğini görüyoruz. Zira, ilişki kurmak, ilişkilenmek ve ilişki yaşamak politik dengeler içeren bir süreç. Kültürel altyapı ve siyasi otorite, farklı bir düzlemlerde kişiselleşerek; ilişki ve beraberlik üzerinden, bireylerin ahlak ve yaşam tarzını yöneten toplumsal kontrol mekanizmalarına dönüşüyor. Modernizmin, tarihsel dönüşümün ya da toplumsal kimliğin izlerinin “mahremiyet” üzerinden okunabileceği “ilişkilenme” kurumları ve kuralları, toplumun devamlılığı ve toplumun kendini yeniden üretmesi için, aile ya da evlilik gibi önemli alt başlıklar içerdiğinden, son derece kilit rollere sahip. Bu sadece kuşaksal dönüşüm açısından tarihsel olarak ilerleyen bir sosyal yapı problemi değil; devlet, çoğu kere kişisel olana birebir müdahale ederek, varlığını gösteriyor. Güncel bir parantez açarsam, Türkiye, yakın zamanda Arap ülkelerini takip ederek, eşcinsellerin buluşma sitelerini (Gaydar, Gayromeo vs.) birbiri arkasına kapattı.

Bütün bu notları fişekleyense, yakın zamanda açılan bir sergi oldu. İfa’nın Stuttgart galerisinde görülebilecek “Solo für... Gülsün Karamustafa / ETIQUETTE” sergisi, kocaman bir yemek masasının üzerinde şekilleniyor; birazdan yenecek bir yemeği müjdeleyen bir yerleştirmeyle, izleyicisine “adab-ı muaşeret”in tarihini resmediyor. Serginin başlığı “etiquette”, etimolojik olarak Fransızca’dan gelse de, kelimenin bugünkü anlam genişlemesi 18. yüzyıl İngilteresi’nden miras... Nerede nasıl davranılacağının, bunun bilgisinin ve görgünün sınıfsal ve toplumsal yapıyı şekillendirdiğini düşünürsek, “etiket” için sosyal davranış biçimlerinin kodlanması diyebiliriz.

Sergi fikri, Karamustafa’nın yakın tarihimizin tartışmalı isimlerinden Abdullah Cevdet’in Fransızca orjinalinden adapte ettiği, (Latin alfabesi yaygınlaşmadığı için 1920’ler sonu) Arapça basılan ve Türklere batılılaşmayı ‘resimlerle’ öğretmeyi amaçlayan bir kitabı bir sahafta bulmasıyla başlamış. Neon led çizgilerle mimari olarak mekandan ayrılan yerleştirmenin ortasındaki kocaman yemek masası porselen tabaklar, cam kadehler ve çatal-bıçaklarla kaplı. Tabakların ve kadehlerin üzerindeki etiket, kitaptan devşirilmiş; alt alta basılı iki resimde bir ‘centilmen’, bir ‘bayanın’ elini kibarca öpüyor. Mekanın devamında Cevdet’in kitabı, Alman Pathé arşivinden 58 saniyelik bir filmle birlikte sunuluyor. Filmde, “Almanlar” bir topluluğa girmeyi, kadınlara çiçek vermeyi, ‘oturmayı-kalkmayı’ öğreniyor.

Yakın zamanda, Abdullah Cevdet’in adı ülkemizin meşhur sokak adı değiştirme harekatlarından birinde geçmişti; Milliyet Gazetesi köşe yazarı Hasan Pulur’un yazısını okuyan Ankara Büyükşehir Belediyesi Cevdet’in, ‘Bu millet adam olmayacak. Bu milleti adam etmek için Batı’dan damızlık erkek getirmek gerek’ dediğini öğrendikten sonra, CHPliler’i de kafalayarak, Cevdet’i Ermeni yanlısı olmakla ve “şanlı tarihimize ihanetle” suçladı. Ankara’daki Abdullah Cevdet sokağının adı böylece “Prof. Halaçoğlu Sokak” olarak değiştiriliverdi.

Sergiye gelince... Yakın formal referanslar olarak, Judy Chigago’nun feminizmin tarihine adanan görkemli yemek masası ya da Rirkrit Tiravanija’nın kavramsal-performatif yaklaşımı akla gelse de, “Etiquette” galerinin kurumsal atmosferinde sözünü ettiği modernite eleştirisinin gölgesinde kalıyor, tiyatralleşemiyor -bile. Oryantalizm temsilleri, modernitenin tarihselleşmesi ve özellikle kadının rolünün toplumsal dönüşümü üzerinde çalışan Karamustafa’nın yerleştirmesinin içeriği oldukça zengin, fakat yerleştirmenin mekandaki varlığı epey problemli. İçeriğindeki potansiyel tartışma alanını açacak görsel hakimiyeti mekanda kuramayan, araştırma aşamasında kalmış performatif yaklaşımını mekanın fizikselliğine adapte edemeyen iş, yemek masasının davetlilerini bekleyen sessiz boşluğuna hapsolmuş...

Sergi yayınına, İstanbul bağlamını yakından tanıyan ve yıllardır İstanbul’da yaşayan November Paynter katkıda bulunmuş. İşin tarihsel referansları açısından, içerik Nilüfer Göle ya da Sibel Bozdoğan bilen bir teorik altyapı talep ettiğinden, yayın yetersiz kalmış. Zaten, “Etiquette”in içeriğinden çok Karamustafa’nın sanat tarihsel gelişimine odaklanıyor. Hem sergi hem de yayın, izleyicisine-okuyucuna geçmeyen kuru bir yalnızlıkta.

“Tanrım, tek başına koyma kullarını. Yalnızlığa ancak sen dayanırsın!”

Görsel: yerleştirme görüntüsü, "Etiquette" Gülsün Karamustafa, ifa Stuttgart.

http://bianet.org/bianet/kultur/128217

ECHT? Basiert auf einer wahren Begebenheit

2011-02-09T00:32:00.000-08:00

Slavs and Tatars, Advice to intellectuals, Let no one represent you! (2010).

ECHT? Basiert auf einer wahren Begebenheit

Ruti Sela und Maayan Amir, Uli Knörzer, Ahmet Ögüt, Slavs and Tatars, Guido van der Werve, Ming Wong

12. Februar - 27. März 2011 Eröffnung: Freitag, 11. Februar 2011, 19 Uhr

„Echt?“ –Teenagersprache, ein Ausdruck, eine Reaktion, Slang anstelle eines Ausstellungstitels. Das Wort drückt Verwunderung aus, Staunen, Skepsis, die Frage nach der Authentizität. „Echt“ kann Vergewisserung bedeuten oder auch nur ein gelangweiltes Füllwort sein. „ECHT?“ ist die erste Ausstellung von Adnan Yildiz als neuer künstlerischer Leiter des Künstlerhaus Stuttgart und der Auftakt seines Programms der kommenden Jahre. Die Gruppenschau präsentiert eine Auswahl von Werken, die auf künstlerischer Forschung basieren und von der Vorstellung fiktionalisierter Realität durchdrungen sind. Dabei untersuchen die Arbeiten mittels unterschiedlicher Medien, wie Selbst-Reflexivität in der künstlerischen Produktion funktionieren kann, und transformieren den Ausstellungsraum gleichsam in eine Bühne, auf der neue Formen künstlerischer Realität und kritischer Imagination hinterfragt werden. Ein Künstlergespräch mit Ming Wong am Eröffnungsabend sowie ein Künstlergespräch mit Ruti Sela und Maayan Amir am Finissage-Wochenende begleiten die Ausstellung, die sich über zwei Stockwerke des Künstlerhauses erstreckt.

Die Ausstellung beginnt mit einer Zweikanal-Videoinstallation von Ming Wong. Dessen Arbeiten erkunden die Schnittstellen von Sprache, Identität und Performance durch Rekonstruktion cinematographischer Merkmale. Für seine Arbeit Kontakthope stellte er eine Gruppe von TänzerInnen und KuratorInnen zusammen, die er seit seinem Umzug nach Berlin kennengelernt hatte. Die Gruppe nahm an einem Workshop teil, der zum Ziel hatte, Pina Bauschs Kontakthof einzustudieren, ein Stück, das 1978 ursprünglich für das Tanztheater Wuppertal choreografiert wurde.

Slavs and Tatars beschäftigen sich mit dem Begriff und der Vorstellung von Eurasien, einem Gebiet, das sich östlich der früheren Berliner Mauer und westlich der Chinesischen Mauer verorten ließe. Dabei konzentriert sich das Künstlerkollektiv auf die oft vernachlässigte Einflusssphäre zwischen Slaven, Kaukasiern und Zentralasiaten. Ihre Arbeiten umfassen verschiedene Medien, Disziplinen und ein breites Spektrum kultureller Ebenen. Im Künstlerhaus zeigen Slavs and Tatars eine Poster-Installation und eine Spiegel-Arbeit mit dem gemeinsamen, selbstreflexiven Titel Advice to intellectuals, Let no one represent you! (2010), ein Bezug zu Repräsentations-Strategien in post-Foucault’scher Zeit. Am Kulturplatz in der Klett-Passage im Stuttgarter Hauptbahnhof weitet sich ihr Ausstellungsbeitrag mit einer Poster-Installation in den städtischen Raum aus.

Die Video-Trilogie Beyond Guilt #1-3 (2003-05), eine Gemeinschaftsarbeit von Ruti Sela und Maayan Amir, zeigt Gespräche unterschiedlicher Protagonisten, die in Hotelzimmern in Tel Aviv von ihrem Alltag erzählen. Sezierend führt das Video die Absurdität der Gespräche vor, die voller sexuellerAnspielungen stecken, während der israelische Alltag „draußen“ aus fortwährender struktureller Gewalt besteht. Die Regisseurinnen übernehmen dabei einen aktiven Part in den Geschehnissen. Sie verführen die interviewten Personen zu immer lasziveren Aussagen und übergeben ihnen dann die Kamera. Durch diese Übertragung werden die Künstlerinnen zu Anwesenden und Abwesenden zugleich.

Guido van der Werve ist ausgebildeter Pianist. Schlüsselelemente seiner Arbeit sind Musik, Zeit und Performance. Sein Film Nummer acht. Everything is going to be alright (2007) basiert auf einer Performance und zeigt, wie der Künstler in der dramatischen Landschaft des finnischen Golfs von Bothnia im Abstand von 15 Metern vor einem Eisbrecher läuft und damit nicht zuletzt Erinnerungen an den empathischen Effekt von Yves Kleins Leap into the Void aus dem Jahr 1960 evoziert.

Uli Knörzers Ohne Titel (2010) zeigt eine Serie von Zeichnungen, die legendären weiblichen Ikonen wie Marilyn Monroe, Nico, Romy Schneider und Edie Sedgwick gewidmet sind. Sie setzen sich mit der Realität ihres Todes und der gleichzeitigen Unsterblichkeit ihrer Schönheit auseinander. So wie sich Roland Barthes auf Greta Garbos Gesicht bezieht, wenn er über die Eitelkeit der Gesellschaft diskutiert, wirft Knörzer einen kritischen Blick auf die Mechanismen der Populärkultur und die Huldigung der äußeren Erscheinung toter und dennoch unsterblicher Frauen.

Die Ausstellung endet mit Ahmet Ögüts Installation 203 Mehmet YILDIZs (2009), die aus einer sechs Meter langen Zeichnung und einer Sound-Installation besteht. Die Zeichnung zeigt 203 lizensierte Fußballspieler der türkischen Profi- und Amateur-Liga, die alle den selben Namen - „Mehmet Yildiz“ - tragen. In der Sound-Installation ertönt der legendäre türkische Sportberichterstatter Daghan Irak, der die Aufstellung des fiktiven Spiels „All Stars Team versus All Stars Collective“ zwischen 22 Mehmet Yildizs ankündigt. Dabei verstärkt die Wiederholung und gleichzeitige Variation des immerselben Spielernamens den Eindruck des „Allerweltsnamens“ Mehmet Yildiz, welcher in der Türkei fast so häufig vorkommt wie der Name Adnan Yildiz, in Deutschland vergleichbar mit „Markus Müller“ oder „Andreas Schmidt“.

Termine:

Eröffnung: Freitag, 11. Februar 2011, 19 Uhr

20:30 Uhr: Künstlergespräch mit Ming Wong 21:30 Uhr: Real Party DJ CANTÜRK (Dönerlounge/Zum Alpharaver) 01:00 Uhr: After Party, Café Monroe’s, Schulstraße 3

Am Eröffnungsabend finden ab 17 Uhr parallele Eröffnungen bzw. Veranstaltungen in den Galerien Hauff, Friese und Parrotta im Rahmen der „LINIE WEST“ statt.

Finissage: Samstag, 26. März 2011

17:00 Uhr: Künstlergespräch mit Ruti Sela und Maayan Amir 20:00 Uhr: Workshop (Details werden noch bekanntgegeben)

ECHT? 12 February - 27 March 2011 / Künstlerhaus Stuttgart

2011-02-08T09:27:00.000-08:00

ECHT? based on a true story
Ruti Sela & Maayan Amir, Uli Knörzer, Ahmet Öğüt,
Slavs and Tatars, Guido van der Werve, Ming Wong

February 12 - March 27, 2011
Opening: Friday, February 11, 2011, 7pm

“Echt?” – teenage talk, an expression, a reaction, slang instead of an exhibition title – the word itself evokes wonder, amazement, scepticism, questioning of authenticity, a double-take or simply a bored fill-in.

As the first exhibition curated by the new artistic director of Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, Adnan Yıldız, “ECHT?” initiates the upcoming programme. It presents instances of artistic research influenced by the perception of fictionalised reality and investigates how self-reflexivity operates in artistic production. An artist talk with Ming Wong, an artist talk with Ruti Sela & Maayan Amir and two floors of installations connected via a poster link by Slavs and Tatars to the city centre turn the exhibition into a stage for questioning new forms of artistic reality and critical imagination.

The exhibition begins with a 2-channel video installation by Ming Wong, whose work explores the intersections of language, identity and performance by reconstructing the world’s cinema and stage. For his piece Kontakthope, he assembled a group of dancers comprised of artists and curators he has met since moving to Berlin. The group took part in a workshop where they practiced Pina Bausch's Kontakthof, originally created for the Tanztheater Wuppertal in 1978.

Slavs and Tatars is a collective concerned with an area east of the former Berlin Wall and west of the Great Wall of China known as Eurasia. Their work spans several media, disciplines, and a broad spectrum of cultural registers, focusing on an oft-forgotten sphere of influence between the Slavs, Caucasians and Central Asians. Their installation of posters and a mirror, strategically located in the exhibition space, share a controversial title and a self-reflective statement, Advice to intellectuals, Let no one represent you! (2010) reflecting on the politics of representation in post-Foucauldian times. Their contribution links itself to the city centre with a poster installation at Kulturplatz, Klett-Passage of Hauptbahnhof Stuttgart.

The video trilogy, Beyond Guilt #1-3 (2003-05) by Ruti Sela & Maayan Amir explores the entanglement of sex and the state of Israel’s structural violence. The directors, Sela and Amir, take an active part in the occurrence. They seduce the interviewees and then turn the camera over to them. Through this negotiation, the artists become absently present in the process.

Guido van der Werve is trained as a pianist. In his work music, time and performance are key elements. His performance-based film, Nummer acht. Everything is going to be alright (2007) shows the artist walking fifteen meters in front of an icebreaker in the dramatic landscape of the Finnish Gulf of Bothnia, the performance itself lasting the time of one roll of film. It reminds one of the emphatic effect of Yves Klein's Leap into the Void from 1960.

Uli Knörzer’s Untitled (2010) presents a series of drawings dedicated to legendary female icons such as Marilyn Monroe, Nico, Romy Schneider or Edie Sedgwick, grappling with the reality of their death through the immortality of beauty. Just as how Roland Barthes refers to Greta Garbo’s face by discussing the vanity of society and the moment of cinema, Knörzer develops a critical gaze on the way that we attach ourselves to these faces of immortal “dead” women hailing from popular history.

"ECHT?" ends with Ahmet Öğüt's installation, 203 Mehmet YILDIZs (2009), composed of an app. six-meter drawing and a sound installation. The drawing depicts two-hundred and three licensed players in Turkish professional and amateur football leagues, all of whom are called "Mehmet Yıldız". The repetition and variation of the same name by the legendary Turkish sports broadcaster Daghan Irak announcing a fictitious game between the multiplicity of names, entitled "All Stars Team versus All Stars Collective", evokes the effect of a common name - such as the German "Markus Muller".

Opening: Friday, February 11, 2011, 7pm
8.30pm: Artist Talk with Ming Wong
9.30pm: Real Party DJ CANTÜRK (Dönerlounge/Zum Alpharaver)
1am: After Party, Café Monroe’s, Schulstraße 3

Parallel to Künstlerhaus Stuttgart, galleries Hauff, Friese and Parrotta are opening exhibitions or hosting events on the same day from 5 to 9 pm within the framework of “LINIE WEST“. www.liniewest.com

Finissage: Saturday, March 26, 2011
5pm: Artist Talk with Ruti Sela & Maayan Amir
8pm Uhr: Workshop (details to be announced)

Press:
Marlene Laube
ml@kuenstlerhaus.de, Tel: +49 (711) 617652

Künstlerhaus Stuttgart
Reuchlinstrasse 4b, 70178 Stuttgart
Tel.: (0711) 617652, Fax: (0711) 613165
www.kuenstlerhaus.de
Hours: Wed-Sun 3-7pm

ARADA BİR: İMAJ POLİTİKALARI Arter'de İsmiyle Müsemma "İkinci Sergi"

2011-01-12T04:16:00.000-08:00

Arter'de İsmiyle Müsemma "İkinci Sergi"

Arter, genç bir koleksiyonun uzun vadede bir müze kompleksine dönüşeceğini müjdeleyen bir kurum; bu yolda kurumsallaşırken, İstanbul'da, İstiklal'de herkese açık, ücretsiz bir sergi mekanı olarak işlevsel bir rol oynuyor. Bu yolda, İstanbul'daki pek çok özel müzenin genellikle gezici sergilerden oluşan sergi programı arasında kendine farklı bir yer açmaya çalışacak gibi görünüyor. İsmiyle müsemma -ikinci sergisi- "İkinci Sergi" Vehbi Koç Vakfı Çağdaş Sanat Koleksiyonu'ndan işlerin gösterildiği, o fazla kalabalık ilk sergisinden ("Starter") daha özenli, daha net ve en azından bir odağı var. Kurumsal eleştiri.

Yeni üretimlerden oluşan bu sergi -kavramsal olarak- kurum, kurumsallaşma, kurum eleştirisi, kurumsal eleştiri ve sanat pratiklerinin bugün kurumsal çerçevede nasıl çalıştığı üzerine kurulu. Serginin geneline yayılan bir çeviri heyecanı, ithalat hissiyatı var; havaya Türkiye bağlamında henüz geleneği kurulmamış bir tartışma düzleminin, kurumsal eleştirinin İstanbul ekseninde üretilme telaşının kokusu sinmiş. Küratörü Emre Baykal işleri biraraya getirirken, hem kurumu bir kavramsal zemin olarak ele alıp, sanatsal araştırmaların prodüksiyon haline gelebilmesini amaçlamış hem de kurumsal eleştiri literatürü açacak bir tartışma platformu yaratmayı hayal etmiş. "İkinci Sergi" bu açıdan iyi niyetli olmasına rağmen bir o kadar da naif bir proje; zira, henüz 'hakkaten' ikinci sergisini gerçekleştiren ve yeni yeni kurumsallaşan bir modelin daha bir sergi sicili, kurum tarihi ve şehrin bağlamına/hafızasına pratik bir katkısı olmadan özgün bir "kurumsal eleştiri" üretebileceğine inanmak güç...

Bu yeni doğmuş bir bebeğe bakıp, annesine mi babasına mı benzediğini konuşmak; yeni ilkokula başlayan bir çocuğa "büyüyünce ne olacağını" sormak kadar naif bir beklenti. Kurumsal eleştiri dediğimiz pratikler toplamı, son yıllarda kurumların baş ağrısını hafifleten bir 'aspirin' olarak az mı eleştirildi? Sanatçının kendisini besleyen eli bükemeyeceğini iddia eden bazı sert eleştirmenler, sanatçılardan "kurumsal eleştiri" üretmek adına iş sipariş eden küratörleri samimi bulmamakla beraber asıl sanatçıları kurumların 'kendini temize çıkarma' projesine dahil olmaları açısından yerden yere vurdu. "İkinci Sergi"ye bu eksenden bakınca, bir başka noktayı da masaya yatırmak gerekiyor; kurum üzerinden üretilen eleştirinin işleyebilmesi, üzerine kurulu olduğu modelde çalışabilmesi için, bu pratiklerin temel olarak kurumun (yerel) bağlamına duyarlı olması -deneyimle sabit- gerekiyor. "İkinci Sergi" aslında bu açıdan içerdiği birkaç çalışma dışında, bütününde özel (specific) bir tartışmadan çok genel bir çerçeveye sahip; kurum denen yapıyı genel hatlarıyla tartışan, belli bir kurumdan çok genel bir kurumdan bahseden bir proje. Arter'de değil de, herhangi bir başka yerde de kurulabilecek, açılabilecek bir sergi. İçerdiği mekana özgü birkaç yerleştirme ayrıntısına ve bağlama-özel üretilen bazı projelere rağmen sergi genelinde dil hakimiyetini kuramamış, meselesini genel-geçer hatlarla açan bir içeriğe sahip.

Sergide yer alan bazı projeler, küratöryel açıdan kurulmaya çalışılan bu "kurumsal eleştiri" çatısının en ilginç ve özgün perspektiflerini kuruyor. Bunlardan biri, bir Banu Cennetoğlu & Yasemin Özcan Kaya işbirliği olan "Evrensel Çöplüğe Gönderiyoruz..." adlı film. Lecher antenini bize doğru sallayan, Arter binasının "titreşimsel toksinlerini temizleyen ve enerji akışını düzenleyen" terapist Zeynep izleyiciyi metafizik bir okumayla 'alt-üst' ederek, 'eleştirilerini' rasyonelliğin ötesinde bir dokunulmazlıkta konumluyor. Anteniyle, Arter'de çalışan alt kadronun dışarıdan gelecek yetenekleri anlamayan, süzemeyen kötü filtreler olarak, kurumun geleceğini tehdit ettiğini tespit eden terapist buna çare olarak melisa ya da okaliptüs yağı öneriyor. TV'de izlemeye alışık olduğumuz tür bir realitenin sürekli "gerçek mi yoksa kurgu mu" diye şüpheyle izlenen akışını logosuz bir ekranda yeniden yaratan, post-modern kültürün içinde zaten gizli olan aşkınsallığı 'terapistin' performatif yaklaşımıyla belgeleyen bu film, ciddiye alındığı ölçüde'eleştirisini' herşeyden daha gerçekçi bir tavırla ortaya koyacak kadar orjinal bir dile sahip. Serginin sürprizi. Hemen izleyicisine geçen zekasıyla, uzun süredir görmediğimiz büyüde bir iş.

Bir diğer 'sıkı' iş, Ömer Ali Kazma'nın "O.K."i. Bu yerleştirme adeta, T.C. bürokrasisinin çok kanallı video performansı. Onay mercii "noterin" sahneye çıktığı, noter memurunun jestlerinin tanıdık bir dille klipleştiği bu video, parçası olduğumuz ve herşeye "tamam" diyen bir kültüre bedenen dahil olan bir öz-eleştiri formu sunuyor. Aydan Murtezaoğlu ve Bülent Şangar ortak çalışması "Laboratuar İşi" ise çok elemanlı, çok katmanlı ve çok medyumlu bir proje. Musluk suyundan İstanbul'un halk plajlarına kadar, içinde yaşadığımız habitatlara suyun dilinden, su kirliliği tehlikesinden ve çevresel bir duyarlılıkla yaklaşmayı öneren bu ironik iş Arter'in şebekelerinden akan suların laboratuar analizleriyle birleşince yeni açılan bir sergi kurumuna yeniden dönüşüm tartışmasını ("recycling") sokuyor. Ve Ahmet Öğüt, Hollanda'da Van Abbemuseum'dan sonra İstanbul'da ikinci kere ürettiği "Kara Elmas"ı izleyiciye açık bir idman, bir yarışma, adeta bir 'survivor' projesi gibi tasarlamış. İzleyici, kömür yığınının içindeki duvar parçasını bulursa, (o duvar parçasının yerine yerleştirilen) elmasa sahip oluyor. "Bul karayı al parayı" diyen Öğüt, kurumun kaynaklarından yeraltı kaynaklarına uzanan; kömürle elmas arasındaki zamansallık ve değer çizgisiyle oynayan incelikli işiyle sanatsal bir eleştiri cümlesi yerine, eleştirel bir gramer öneriyor. (Sergi açılışından kısa bir süre sonra iki gencin duvar parçasını bularak, vadedilen elmasa kavuştuğunun haberini zaten almıştık!)

"İkinci Sergi"nin içinde yer alan bir başka önemli duraksa, 90'lar güncel sanat tarihinin kilit isimlerinden Vahap Avşar'a ait. Bu sergide yer alan çalışmalarıyla Vahap Avşar, 'sanata geri dönüşünün' müjdesini' veriyor. Avşar açısından, Arter'deki "İkinci Sergi" Aralık sonunda açılan Rampa'daki soloyla birlikte işliyor; bize Avşar'ın pratiğine yıllar sonra yeniden bakarken, retrospektif bir bakış da içeren geniş bir sunum alanına katkıda bulunuyor. Ne var ki, kurumsal eleştiri üzerine odaklanan bir sergideki bir iş bile illa ki günümüz eleştirmeninin en gözde taktiğinin; hırsız-polis oyununun tuzağına düşerek okunuyor. Ayşegül Sönmez, Radikal'de yayınlanan yazısında Nur Koçak'ın işlerinde kullandığı kartpostal serisini 'bilmeden' yeniden üreten Avşar'ın pozisyonunu kim kimden önce iş yapmış, kim kimden araklamış etrafında dolaştırdıktan sonra, belleksiz sanat toplumu üzerinden konumluyor. Avşar'ın şeffaf tavrına karşı "affediciyi" oynuyor. Oysa, Avşar'ın dili, yaklaşımı ve kavramsal tavrı Koçak'ın temsil geleneğinden ve pratiğinin sorunsallarından epey farklı. Türkiye'de form ve içerik tartışması, medyum ve yaklaşımla ilişkisiz okunuyor. İşler malzemesi, içerdiği motifler ve kavramsal hamur üzerinden karşılaştırılıyor, birbirine benzetiliyor; ama ne dedikleri ve sanatsal dilleri pek konuşulmuyor.

Bence, Avşar'ın 'geri dönüşünün' ondan daha başka bir okumaya ihtiyacı var. Özellikle Avşar'ın dönüşünden (2008'den) sonra üretilen yağlıboya asker resimleri ve sürekli terleyen geçkince bir askerin rahat-hazır ol videosu, Türkiye'nin siyasi olarak oldukça problemli bir kültür alanının; militarizmin kodlarıyla üretilmiş. Oysa aradan geçen yıllarda o kodların nasıl dönüştüğünü gözden kaçıran Avşar'ın tonu, dili ve içeriği, olay yaratan "Nefes" filminin yarattığı ikilem gibi. Militarizmi yeniden mi üretiyor yoksa eleştiriyor mu, belli değil. Bir o kadar sorunlu. Belki de, Avşar'ın gözden kaçırdığı bir nokta, Ergenekon, Balyoz, Vicdani Red ve yeni Anayasa tartışmalarında gizli, lakin artık "Çelik de değişti". Nasıl ki artık, laik-müslüman kimliği kutuplaşmasını Extramücadele temsiliyle tartışmak, zaten var olan politik jargona hapsolmak ve Erbakan-Çiller döneminden gelen bir polemik dilini tekrar etmekse, Avşar'ın yirmi yıl öncesinin Türkiye'sine dayalı gözlemleri ve taze askerlik deneyimi ile ürettiği ordu ve militarizm tasviri de, İlker Başbuğ kadar seksi.

Kartpostalları yeniden üreten Avşar, Türkiye'nin seksenlerde anonimleşmiş ve en ünlü görüntüsü "Ağlayan çocuk" resmini de yağlıboya olarak üretmişti. Arter'de görebilirsiniz. Bu iş, meramımı anlatmaya iyi bir örnek. Bugün bu resmi çocuğuna gösterip, "bak biz küçükken evimizde bu asılıydı" diyen ortayaşlı izleyicinin zamanı geri çeviremeyeceğini anlaması gibi... Çocukluğunda o resmi duvarda, bakkalda, her yerde (omni-present) görmesi, onu çocuğuna anlatmasının zorluğu, ona onun hissini geçirmesinin imkansızlığı gibi. Bugüne gelemeyen bir eskimişlik var ortada. Tarihsellik değil. Nostalji kraliçeliği gibi bir durum -Avşar'ın dönüşü.

Eleştirel dilin oluşması/kurulması için, Arter gibi yeni olmak, yeni kurulmak, yani sıfır noktası yetmiyor; illa ki eleştiri, üzerinde şekilleneceği kümülatif bir yığın istiyor. Tıpkı sadece anıların, nostaljinin ve geçmiş zamanın yetmediği gibi. Avşar'ın bugünün Türkiyesi'nin kodlarına 'yabanjı' hali gibi. Uzaktan. Ne de olsa, eleştiri üretimi, sürekliliği olan bir pratiğe dayalı olmayı talep ediyor. Hem bugünden bahsedecek, hem geçmişi bilecek, hem de yarına bakacak...

imaj: Ahmet Öğüt'ün "Kara Elmas" yerleştirmesinden, 2010.

http://bianet.org/bianet/kultur/127140-arterde-ismiyle-musemma-ikinci-sergi

Halil Altındere'nin Derdi, bianet 20 Kasım 2010, Cumartesi

2010-11-20T08:46:00.001-08:00

Halil Altındere'nin Derdi

Halil Altındere'nin galerici Yahşi Baraz'ı ikna ederek, boynuna değerli ressamı Burhan Doğançay'ın bir tablosunu geçirdiği videosu önümüzdeki hafta açılacak Contemporary İstanbul'da Baraz'ın kendi standında görülebilecekmiş. Beni, "Erwin Wurm Altındere'den önce zaten resim uzmanı Peter Wolf'un kafasına bir tablo geçirmişti" tartışması hiç mi hiç ilgilendirmiyor. Halil abimiz tekrar sever, hiç gocunmaz.

Doksanların sonunda, Esat Tekand'ın Urart'taki sergisine dalarak resimlerden birine dolar işareti yapıp, ardında "vandalizm mi, sanat mı" tartışması bırakarak galeriden çıkan Altındere yine o zamanlarda Baraz'ın mekanındaki tablolarla da dans etmişti. Yani, yine Altındere'nin pratiği içinde tutarlı jestlerinden biri ile başbaşayız, ama bu kez medyum kullanımında bir fark var. Ya da bu fark jestin Türkiye bağlamında yeniden üretilmesinde doğuyor, diyelim.

Alexander Brener'in (1997'de), Stedelijk Müzesi'nde Malevich'in "Suprematizm" resmi üzerine yaptığı dolar işaretini Tekand resmi üzerinde yinelerken, Altındere'nin hedefi Malevich'in Türkiye karşılığını aramak yerine Tekand'ın sanat tarihini gerçekçi bir dille belge-pentürleyen diliydi. Biraz daha açarsak, asıl hedefi resmin satılan bir obje olmasının yanı sıra, yeniden ürettiği sanat tarihsel değerlerin sanat pazarındaki kutsallaştırılma etkisiyle var olan tarihi yeniden üretmesiydi.

Tekand, dolarla işaretlenen işinde Beuys'un "I like America and America likes me, 1974" performansını resmediyordu. Ben burada Sherrie Levine ve 'appropriation' tartışmasını yinelemeyeceğim, zira o tartışma Türkiye bağlamında hep bir nostaljik parmak olarak sallandı, boşluğa, inanılmadan-güvenilmeden. Ben burada daha pratik bir tartışmaya odaklanıyorum. Ne yazık ki, Tekand çok satan bir ressam olmadığından Altındere'nin jestinin hedefini vurduğundan emin değilim. Bildiğim kadarıyla, performanstan sonra Altındere'nin jestinin izi silindi; Altındere de devam eden duruşmalardan sonra Tekand'ın şikayetini geri almasına okeydi.

Bugün, Baraz'ın kafasına geçirilen Doğançay tablosunun orijinal olup olmadığını bilmiyoruz, zaten video dili ve Baraz'ın ikna edilerek sürece dahil edilmesi, bu okumanın önünü kesiyor. Ama burada beni asıl ilgilendiren şu: Altındere'nin doksanlar sonundan ikibinler sonuna devam eden süreçte, yine bir anti-sanat-tarihsel jesti tekrarlarken kullandığı medyum, dönüştürmeye çalıştığı bağlam ve seçtiği aktörler biraraya gelince, bugüne dair üretilmeye çalışılan eleştiriye yönelik olarak bize ne diyor?

Medyumun video olarak seçilmesi, belgeselci ya da belgeleyici dilin giderek, kurgu-belgeci bir anlayışa doğru dönüştüğüne işaret ediyor; ayrıca performansın kendinden gelen müdahaleci tavra karşın, burada tersine alaycı-kinayeli-hikayeci, jestin kendisini öne çıkaran ve konsensusa bağlı çalışan bir tutum var. Altındere, standa habersiz gelerek, zaten orada sergileneceği şüphesiz olan Baraz'ın altın yumurtlayan ressamı Doğançay'ın bir işini, aniden Baraz'ın kafasına geçirebilirdi. Yoksa, geçiremez miydi?

Zamanında da gücü sadece (Brener'in giderek eli artıran sert tavrına kıyasla) Tekand'a mı yetmişti de, o zaman da Baraz'ın tabloları valsten sonra yerine uslu uslu asılıvermişti, yaşım yetmez-bilemiyorum. Ayrıca, o dolar işaretinin hedefi olarak Tekand sanat-tarihsel olarak ne kadar geçerli bir 'öneme' (Malevich'le orantılı olarak) sahipti, hala anlamış değilim. Ama beni burada ilgilendiren, ortaya sunulan jestlerin, bağlantılı olduğu aktörlerinin iktidar paylarından ve güç koltuklarından bağımsız okunamayacağı. Bağlama gelirsek, Altındere'nin sadece takvim ve platform olarak değil; zaman ve mekanın ötesinde başlıbaşına bir zemin olarak Contemporary İstanbul'u seçmesi hiç tesadüf değil. Tersine, son derece stratejik bir boyuta sahip bir joker hakkı.

Bu yıl beşincisi gerçekleşecek fuarda, 420 sanatçıdan 2000'e yakın çalışma sergilenecekmiş. Kavramsal olarak, yoğunlukla tartıştığımız İstanbul Bienali kapsamında düşünürsek, hem 'input' hem katılımcı hem de izleyici olarak, başka bir boyuttan bahsediyoruz. Üretimin hızının yanında, sergilemenin anlamsızlaştığı ve yanyanalığın içinin boşaldığı bir enflasyonda, Altındere'nin derdi belki bu hengameye biraz da olsa humor, ironi ve soru işareti katmak. Gönül isterdi ki, Serkan Özkaya da hala Altındere kadar eski günlerindeki formunda olsa. Eminim, O Serkan, gelen geçeni tavana gizli hortumlarla ıslatırdı ya da merdivendeki şeffaf muz kabuklarından milletin ayağı kayardı.

Resimaltı bilgisi: Halil Altındere'nin “Portrait of a Dealer”ı (Bir Sanat Eksperinin Portresi).

http://bianet.org/bianet/toplum/126129-halil-altinderenin-derdi

Sosyal İntihar ve Toplumsal Linç (bianet, KaosGL, Kasım 2010)

2010-11-17T10:11:00.000-08:00

Sosyal İntihar ve Toplumsal Linç

Yakın zamanda yaşadığımız Tophane faciası, kelimenin tek anlamıyla bütün varlığımızı, profesyonel kimliklerimizi, aydın sorumluluklarımızı ve bakış açılarımızı sorgulamamız için yüzümüze tutulmuş bir ayna. Çünkü, mesele sadece galerilerde olanlardan ibaret değil! Tersine, olayların ele alınış biçimi ve olayların arkasından gelişen tutum, tavır ve davranışlar bize ne kadar tutumsuz, tavırsız ve düşünmeden yaşayan bir sanat toplumu olduğumuzu söylemiyor mu?

Yaşadığı yerde dışlandığını hisseden bir ordu erkek, kendi gibi olmayanı öldürme, yaralama ve hayattan bezdirmeye hakları olduğunu düşünerek, bu yarı-kamusal olarak tarifli alanlara hücum ederek, açık hedefli şiddet gösteriyorlar. Yarı-kamusal olarak işaretlenmiş yerlerde sosyalleşen yeni-melez kalabalıklar, farklılıkların yüceltildiği yeni şehir kültürünün zorunlu hizmeti açılışlarda network-leşirken, birden dışarıda bıraktıkları 'bağlamın' hücumuna uğrayarak, can havliyle "Madımak"ı ketliyor. Aradaki derin farkın neye tekabül ettiği ise, 12 Eylül 2010'dan sonra, yani TC Demokrasisi'nin İkinci 12 Eylül Kırılması olarak tarihe geçecek bilinç depremi sonrası, bu galerilerdeki açılışlarda bulunan Evet'çilerin Hayır'cılar'dan farkında gizli.

Tartışmanın ana-haber-bültenleşmesi, bir araba kazası gibi. Biliyorsunuz, kazalar ve depremler olmasa, Türkiye'de gerçekler ortaya çıkamıyor. Panik ve korku toplumu! Bu ülkede sanat adına üretilen eleştirinin yüzölçümü mağlum. Söylemler skandallaşmadıkça; kültür sanat ekine malzeme-faaliyet raporu yazarsınız, Madra hanım gibi. 2010 Alo Temizlik Kampanyası yazıları çıkar, -boy boy, karşınıza. Medya, herşeyi ya Orhan Pamuk'a sorar ya Bedri Baykam'a. Yıllar önce, "genel ahlaka aykırı" oldukları imzası tarafından bizzat '-bilirkişilenen' resimsel imajların basılı olduğu, içinde sanatsal, teorik ve eleştirel pratiklerin "pornografi" temalı bir dosyada biraraya geldiği dergimizi toplatma kararını veren sayın devlet mahkemelerimize, bu kez sıra gelmiyor. Fail-i Mecnun'lar salıverilerek, 'küsler' tatlıyla barıştırılıyor. Herkese büyük geçmiş olsun. Toplatılma kararında Türkiye'yi suçlu bulan Avrupa, bu kez tartışmanın hukuk dışı açılmasından dolayı olaya kendi oryantalist-İslamfobik bakışıyla yaklaşıyor: "Tophane'de Allah Allah sesleri!"

Hayatın cilvesi, alternatif galeriler "tartışma içkili sanatseverler yüzünden çıktı" suçlamasının savunmasını, galerilerinin açılışlarına en çok entellektüel ve üst kesimlerin geldiğini söyleyerek yapıyor. Olayın sosyal boyutunu tek taraflı açıklayan mutenalaştırılma söyleminin yeniden piyeslenmesi ise, akşama Banu Çalış Güven'e düşüyor. Büyük iş filozofu Osman Bey, ne belediyenin ne de valinin olaya ilgisiz bakışını gündeme getirebiliyor, adeta robot resim çizer gibi, "saldıranlar gençti ama yapanlar ortayaşlı" türü tipik solun fail-i meçhul ağıtı adlı marşı söylüyor. Bu Sayın Çalış Güven'i kesmiyor, Osman Bey'e "en sevdiği hayal kahramanı" soruyor. Osman Bey'in "uçan bir adam vardı, neydi?" cevabına eklemeyi ise, "Süpermen" diyerek yine kendisi yapıyor. Ben orada, ikisine de Şener Özmen'i hatırlatma gereği duyacak bir isim isterdim. Orada entellektüel, akademik ya da toplumcu bir ses yoktu. İş adamının ve sunucu hanımın sesi duyuldu sadece.

Çok değil, dört ay önce; dünyanın bir başka şehrinde-Berlin'de, bienal yüzünden Kreuzberg'e yığılan bobo kalabalık, semte sahip çıkan ve giderek mutenalaşmasından rahatsız olan alternatif-politik örgütlerin posterli tepkisine yol açtı. Bienalin küratörünün ve direktörünün Arnold Schwarzenegger-ci güvenlik anlayışına tepkilerini, bu hanımefendilerin resimlerinin altına "Gentrificator" yazıp, posterleştirerek her yere yayan aktivistlerin tavrı şehirde hala tartışma konusu. Geçen İstanbul Bienalin'de, açılışı protesto eden Direnistanbul'un bienal küratörleri WHW'ye yazdıkları açık mektupta, küratörlere kurdukları kavramsal zeminle çelişen Koç Holding işbirlikleri hatırlatılıyordu. Uzun lafın kısası, Modern'e Antrepo'ya davetiyesi olmadığı için giremeyen ama dışarıdan olayları dikizleyen mahalle bıçkınlarının gücü, biriken öfkesi ve taşan sabrı küçük ölçekli galerilerin vitrininde patladı. Resmi genişletmek için, olayın çok boyutlu başka açılımlarına bakmak gerek. Zira bu geniş perspektif gerekliliği, zamanın kendisinden gelen bir şart, mecburiyet, zorunluluk.

Bütün bunların olduğu zamanın ruhunu son zamanlarda en iyi okuyan ise, bir zamanlar Dövüş Kulübü'yle adını kalbimize yazdığımız David Fincher. feysbuk'un mucit-kurucusu Mark Zuckerberg'in hayatını konu eden "The Social Network" bir portre resmi çizerek, yaşadığımız dünyanın dönüşüm sürecini analiz ediyor. Karşımıza diğer filmlerindeki (zaten Dövüş Kulübü'dür yok Yedi'dir aman efendim Oyun'dur gibi filmlerinde zirve olmuş) katastrofik ya da sürpriz-son olarak özetlenebilecek aksiyon estetiğini tekrar etmeden, (daha çok zamansal bir hikayecilik öneren), daha durağan ama yine erkekler arası iktidar savaşına odaklı çıkan yönetmen, bir buluş hikayesine odaklanıyor. Bize, başarı ve güç savaşının aslında başlı başına bir (territorial) iktidar alansal-bölgesel gerilim hattı olduğunu hatırlatıyor. Tophane'de olanlar yoksa bir alan kavgasından mı ibaret? O nedenle mi tartışma ilerlemedi?

Tophane'deki yaşayanların galeride değil, TAMAMEN yeni-KAMUSAL ALAN olan feysbuk'un sayfalarında buluştuğu bugün, oradan bir yorumu,"bunlar geldi, kiralar iki katı oldu" cümlesini duymamazlıktan gelemiyor, -insan. İnsan neyle yaşar? İçgüdüsel bir savunmayla, yaşam alanlarına kentsel müdahalede bulunanlara tepkisini yumruğuyla, bilemedin, donmuş portakalla göstermesi ise meseleyi daha da derinleştiriyor. İnsan nefesini tutarak, üstteki yorumlara dönme gereği duyuyor. "Otomatik Portakal'ı duymuştum, ama buz portakal yeni çıkmış." esprisini patlatan gençle ""bunlar geldi, kiralar iki katı oldu" abi ve "Evet'çiler düşünsün" teyze arasında geçen muhabbetin gerisini hala Binnaz Toprak'a mı bırakalım? Ben okeyim de; mahalle baskısı, sokak kavgasına dönüşmüyor, direk toplumsal linç olayına dönüşüyor. Zira tarafların silahları ve durumları eşit değil. Erkeklerin alan kavgası arasında kalan kadınlar, çocuklar ve yaşlılar hele bağlama tamamen yabancı konuklar...

Ben konuyu ancak böyle bir özetten sonra dinlendirebileceğim. Zira hayat, sadece tek bir alan savaşından ibaret olsa, bütün cephelerde aşk kazanırdı. Yok, Ezel'den Ramiz Dayı değil. Hayat tecrübesi. Yaşadığımız toplumsal linçlerin nedeni, biraz da -hepimizin her geçen gün daha büyük bir yalnızlıkla kendi sayfasına gömüldüğü karanlık-sosyal intiharlar değil mi? Kolektif çalışan Slavs and Tatars adlı sanat grubunun uzun bir hikayeyle Polonya sınırında üretip, Berlin'de gösterdiği aynasına bakmak ve işin adını okumak arasında geçen süreyi vicdanınıza bırakıyorum.

* İmaj: Slavs and Tatars, Entellektüellere Nasihat: Kimsenin sizi temsil etmesine izin vermeyin., Ayna, 2010
Photo: Anna Pabis

http://bianet.org/bianet/kultur/125785-sosyal-intihar-ve-toplumsal-linc

ENG, ACTIONS & THEIR CONSEQUENCES -AS NEW RESPONSIBILITIES

2010-10-11T09:08:00.000-07:00

correct me if i’m critical-curatorial grammar:
ACTIONS &
THEIR CONSEQUENCES
-AS NEW RESPONSIBILITIES

By ADNAN YILDIZ

Last fall, I was invited to develop a proposal for an exhibition project to be produced during Fall 2010 by the Swedish Embassy, and it was planned to take place at the Felleshuset as part of a closed competition. I was only informed that there were five other competitors, but had no idea about who they were. Even some close friends as devil’s advocates confronted me with the possibility of high risk behind the project, as it might easily turn into a flag exhibition meaning institutional representation could swallow the curatorial statement. I was mostly interested in the opportunity of realizing an awaiting proposal. The idea of the proposal was based on field- experience from the 10th Istanbul Biennial (2007), part of my collaborative work (with Esther Lu from Taipei), co-curating a discussion program (titled as Big Family Business, 2007), one of the questions focused on was about the diverse levels of artistic production and criticality in the contemporary art context. Berlin based curator, Man Ray and Stockholm-London based artist, Marysia Lewandowska were invited to present their work in relation to the ferver of the opening week and the audience circulation in the venue. There were born some questions such as:

- How do you position the role of critical knowledge in your practice?
- What is the contribution of criticality in the process of artistic production and discussion?
- How can we define strategies of any context-specific critical approach?

During the talk, it was firstly emphasized that the role of the contextual references, the adaptation of personal perspectives, and how institutional frameworks operate would interact with each other to create a balance for initiating any critical position for an exhibition situation. Secondly, as creative laborers how we negotiate with the institutional structures, how we personalize the organizational responsibilities, and when/why we make our personal or political statements public contribute a lot to shape the development process. Since then, this became my motivation to work on an exhibition proposal that would aim to reveal the forms, statements, and images that might trigger further discussions –in a specific context. Yes, there were no short-cut conclusions for me. This made it clear that there needs to occur an exhibition to re-articulate the common questions. Be context-specific and work open-ended!

By taking the main institutional, (so directly) economical and political ground as a conceptual base, plus interacting with the city context, the first half of a full sentence from Hannah Arendt was proposed to the Swedish Embassy. “Action without a name, a ‘who’ attached to it, is meaningless.” Within the Nordic context of political correctness and the German tradition of international diplomacy, Arendt’s terms “action” and “agency” came together to develop a reflexive pathway as twin-questions: “Who takes the risk? & Who produces the critic?” During the launch of the project (13th of June as Critical Sunday), the wild music of youngsters, Annika Eriksson’s Hannah Arendt Band at Basso (just after the screening of “The Bus”, Tunç Okan, 1974) has physically activated the audience to experience the emergency of the discussion. The first part of that sentence from Arendt was also at the web site of the project and press releases during that week. Now one can read the sentence as a whole: “Action without a name, a ‘who’ attached to it, is meaningless, whereas an art work retains its relevance whether or not we know the master’s name.” (Arendt, Hannah. 1998/58. The Human Condition [2nd ed. with an Introduction by Margaret Canovan]. Chicago: Chicago University Press., p. 180-181.).

By speaking directly with its title, “correct me if i’m critical” is based on applying this sentence to an open-ended curatorial grammar, which experiments on an alternative way of exhibition making. From the beginning, designing the structure through some discussions with partners, organizers, and artists with open questions about their current programs, logistics, and works has been kept as open as possible. The actions were clearly defined, however the situations were not always easily adapted to our realities. Some projects had to stay as unrealized sketches or proposals, whereas some others have been presented as several editions, versions, or variations. The motivation behind instigating a Kreuzberg-based map for an open discussion about artistic production and critical knowledge emerged in four fundamental stages as an exhibition program and a curatorial grammar:

(1) Exhibition Ground as group show in two venues; The Felleshuset as the senior who pays the drinks, and the second floor gallery of Nest, the junior who engages into the game with a long run dedication. The former is an institution that intends to initiate an exhibition project, which is not its main task, and the latter hosts part of that exhibition, and it has a potential to operate as an ideal form of gallery that shows art works without any commercial concerns. They are tied to each other with their time-schedule. By nature, they are both open during the daytime of the weekdays and weekends. They are awake at the same time. As (2) Attachments, we have had four joint-projects in collaboration with galleries and a night bar called Möbel Olfe. As attached to the main discussions, there have been solo presentations of some critically context specific artistic practices. In addition to these, (3) Platforms; Basso, Ballhaus Naunynstraße, and Motto are hosting screenings, discussions, and parties. The last (4), Summer Studio happened as the first thing to do; by August 2010 and in collaboration with Skulpturenpark Berlin_Zentrum, four promising artists were invited to develop research proposals and make presentations about their work in progress being supported by us with research or travel fee. The idea was based on imagining a future vision for the exhibition, and getting into dialogue with young practices.

The juxtaposed questions of the research process have been reformulated by the conditions of the production process. Since the installation and opening week, the team -composed of Swedish Embassy, partners, production team, artists and all of the contributors have maximized the physicality of artistic experience, and a second discursive statement from Arendt’s further readings emerged as an absolute reality; the actions are taking place in the public realm. Especially, after the opening, new responsibilities emerged for us as consequences of our actions. The diversity of unique personalities provides various styles, solutions, signatures, and products coming together at a certain a polarity. The control on what we do and the control on our own personalities can never be equally balanced at the low, high or different standards, moreover we can never erase, reverse or rewind what we have done; so, actions are unpredictable and irreversible. The steps of any kind of (micro-, macro-, individual-, institutional-…) bureaucracy, the limits of institutional identities, and the depressive control of capital could not stop us.

The project has been mostly produced in Kreuzberg, because it has the energy and supported by Swedish Embassy in Tiergarten –where the history of the old city is! Bridging this open content to diverse contexts in the city operated as a conceptual ground for us to implement our actions. The program was designed as an open experience of a Kreuzberg based and Tiergarten-Mitte linked “Critical Map” that shows potential interactions, dialogues, and relationships to challenge the informative audience, who demands explanatory texts from the galleries, artists and curators. It was an open form to contribute and change rather than an early reading or presupposition of itself. The interaction and audience-exchange between the partner institutions have really and strongly been happening demanding an urgent inter-institutional dialogue in Berlin. It makes sense now to repeat myself. I would like to tell one thing that had been brought to the table many times at different stages of our discussions with the participants, contributors, and organizers. The difference between producing a critic and being/performing the ‘critical’ are considered as different channels for adapting the social, political and psychological reality into any specific-context. As a speculative argument, one might say that you –in general- can learn how to be critical (when there is a certain content on the table) by adapting some already-existing perspectives such as left-wing, neo-liberal, feministic or queer etc. or you can perform the role of the critic in repetition of some discourses from anti-global activists, anti-capitalist movements or post-modern literature. However you can’t produce an open (conceptual, political or social) critique unless you personalize any situation, make a specific analysis of it, and then make it public through your arguments that communicate clearly with your discussion partners.

In the context of contemporary art; the content is always related with the forms of its statements; so you can’t separate any artistic idea from its medium or content, moreover the artistic experience is not limited to its time and space, but also to the cultural memory and the political identity of its author and public. This is why, every attempt to make a point that demands for any change and proposes a better option for any specific situation should be valued as an action, and it really doesn’t matter what you call it at the end: Blogging, curating, or writing etc? But, stays with your name!

Sep-Oct 2010

Kreuzberg/Neukölln

www.correctmeifimcritical.org

Image: Film Screening Die Abenteuer des Herrn Picasso (Tage Danielsson, 1978), Basso.

On the Table:

www.hannaharendt.net

Literatur von und über Antonio Negri im Katalog der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek

www.chomsky.info

Irith Rogoff‘s “Turning” http://www.e-flux.com/journal/view/18

Marion von Osten’s Editorial, e-flux journal 17 http://www.e-flux.com/journal/view/159

texts-metinler

"The Suburbs, a Battle of the Curators, and a Long Night" for "Waking up from the Nightmare of Participation" edited by M. Miessen & N.V. Kolowratnik

The Village of Exception, Nilbar Güreş / OPEN PHOTO BOOTH 2011

İSİMSİZ AMA KENDİSİ, 12. İstanbul Bienali 2011

LEYLA GEDiZ, RAMPA, iSTANBUL, 2011

David Blandy, Child of the Atom

David Blandy, Child of the Atom

Nilbar Güreş, Self-Defloration

Nilbar Güreş, Self-Defloration

Interview with Nilbar Güreş

Nilbar Güreş söyleşisi

STATION by Kim Einarsson & Adnan Yıldız

Stuttgart, how are you doing? By Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer, and Adnan Yildiz

Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart? Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer und Adnan Yildiz

„Alles aus Anfang"/"Back to First Position" / Nevin Aladag

Nevin Aladağ's "Back to First Position / Alles auf Anfang"

Die Geschichte von Sener Özmen / The Story of Sener Özmen

The Story of Sener Özmen / Die Geschicte von Sener Özmen

Stuttgart, Forum der Kulturen, April 2011, Angelika Brunke-interview mit Adnan Yildiz

ARADA BİR: İMAJ POLİTİKALARI, Adab-ı Muaşeret

ECHT? Basiert auf einer wahren Begebenheit

ECHT? 12 February - 27 March 2011 / Künstlerhaus Stuttgart

ARADA BİR: İMAJ POLİTİKALARI Arter'de İsmiyle Müsemma "İkinci Sergi"

Halil Altındere'nin Derdi, bianet 20 Kasım 2010, Cumartesi

Sosyal İntihar ve Toplumsal Linç (bianet, KaosGL, Kasım 2010)

Sosyal İntihar ve Toplumsal Linç

ENG, ACTIONS & THEIR CONSEQUENCES -AS NEW RESPONSIBILITIES

Wie geht’s dir, Stuttgart?  Michael Birchall, Regina Fasshauer und Adnan Yildiz