FUSING INTO THE TRANSLUCENT LAYERS

published in Biennial 7+ Egofugal: 7th International Istanbul Biennial,
curated by Yuko Hasegewa (catalogue)
(both in English and Turkish)
ISBN 975 - 7383 - 22 ­ 7
© Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts, Istanbul, 2002

Istanbul. Whenever this very city closes her petals, she captures the blowing winds within herself. The reminiscences influenced by these winds have shaped the loaded memory, cultural structure and even the architectural texture of the city. To come across “accidentally” with any of these reminiscences is just an ordinary and repeatedly experienced intersection. Nonetheless, tracing these memories is not as easy as it seems, yet the city consists of many superimposed layers and maps having translucent zones with overlapping borders. While physical boundaries are diminished by any short-term memory based information, physical relations block mental boundaries. The fast flow of life covers the historical, cultural and geographical characteristics of the city with borrowed images. It assesses its beauties by hiding them; the city grows like a giant puzzle by being fragmented.

This time the Biennial fuses into this crowded and spinning city, like an agent, along with the concept of “Egofugal”. The revealed intention of the Biennial is to open up fields of collective consciousness via the city and her habitants, rather than an attempt to conquer the venues. The biennial takes place in an extremely tough period where the economic crisis, hard life conditions, restless and knotty future narrations block the perception of daily life. “Egofugal” lays emphasis on the healing facility of art: it proposes a more positive and productive mode of in a mere definition of metaphysical sharing. It makes obvious that the good will that is eclipsed by daily life greed is still “there”. It also reminds us that we are always capable of struggling against the axioms of financially oriented politics triggered by the male-dominated culture and the capitalist logic. It simply relies on “collective intelligence” to enlighten the corrupted visions.

“Collective Intelligence” also operates as a key concept to generate the venues of the biennial. “Egofugal” spreads out mostly to the same venues as the previous biennials, hence, the way it communicates with the venues operates in a different level. On the one hand, it utilizes the spatial memory of the venues, one the other hand it exploits their historical and cultural characteristics without touching them. It does not have any intention to cover the identities of the venues or to transform them. Neither do the venues face manipulation, nor do the works aim at being the extensions of the venues. Through the alike approach with the layered structure of Istanbul, the works become positioned among these layers along with whatever they carry. “Collective consciousness” generates the interaction between the spectator and the works. The only way to share the information which the works carry is to be equipped. The Biennial presents the development and transformation processes of the structure, language, dynamics and agents of a culture that has been produced by the overriding technologies in progress.

A lot of the works are surrounded by the relics of the machineries in the Imperial Mint as one of the main venues of the Biennial. Having been built just after the conquest of Istanbul, the Imperial Mint had developed into a centre which controlled the state politics for economics, and also followed the up-to-date technological innovations of those days. In the late 19th century, the latest technology of minting machines and devices were ordered and the major staff were recruited from Britain, and a mint similar to the one in London was set up with the new machinery. The steam engine installed here is one of the foremost in Ottoman Empire. Thus, the most significant design and the symbol of the Industrial Revolution had arrived in Istanbul long before the industry itself. The Imperial Mint had always been the focal point where technology was highly admired.

This time, the Imperial Mint is hosting an exhibition which acts parallel to its history. Works of art presented here track the traces of collective beliefs in a retrospective approach: from the optimistic “New Age Futurism” of the late 60’s and early 70’s to the opposing disaster theories which can transform this belief to a catastrophe; Via the works, the products of both technology and the politics of economy that dominates the world as such from sci-fi narrations that forecasts utopias to dystopia, to cyberpunk literature that was shaped by the man/machine integration; from the comics culture that merge the genres of suspense, horror, pornography, black humour to the culture of information technologies.

For instance, “Futuro”, the renowned ski and vacation cabin, designed by Matti Suuronen in 1968 is located in forecourt of the Imperial Mint. Recalling the New Age myth UFO, this cabin is one of the cult designs of the extensively optimistic vision of the late 60’s, which perceives the World as a spaceship travelling in the space-time continuum and the humankind as the big family of passengers on board. Another work interacts with this vision: David Noonan and Simon Trevaks reflect the anxiety for a possible accident that can be easily turned into a dreadful technologic catastrophe with their work named “99”. Chris Cunningham displays an extract from the popular culture in his shocking and terrifying videos. These videos are the mere synthesis of the narratives and image production schemes such as comics, music promos, science fiction, fantastic cinema and horror movies. They are alienated to the places they are displayed as much as the images they reflected. An alternative kind of alienation can be observed through the anime character “Ann Lee” which emerges in the works of Phillipe Parreno, Pierre Huyghe and Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster: she also indicates a specific segment in time. Without having any “memory”, Ann Lee brings in a misery almost similar to the “Blade Runner” movie character Rachel-the replica- who yearns for the reality of her fabricated past. Every single new story adds up Ann Lee’s memory, cuts her off, eventually isolates her from the surrounding world. Just as the shell metaphor of “Ghost in the Shell”, memory modules are uploaded, downloaded and are even deleted on to her awaiting image. As Ann Lee manifests “I’m not a ghost, I’m just a shell”, she does not only outline the conceptual frame of the Biennial, but also describes the correlation of the exhibition with the space.

Another venue, the Hagia Eirene Museum, is one of the first churches built up on a basilica plan in Byzantium. As the daylight concludes its domination on the interior, the works in here become much more legible. They commence their statements one to one with the spectators, offering experiences rooted on personal levels. Originating from his own body and using the discourses of the human body as the basis to his works, Magnus Wallin visualizes the fragility of the ideal human myth established in western culture. The interrelation of the geometric forms within Tomma Abst’s paintings indicate a similar conflict to the spectator who can enter this territory. The plain and sterile video of Hussein Chalayan and his designs where personal experiences are expressed through the envelope-clothings also takes place in this church. Ana Maria Tavares prepares the spectator for a solitary journey. Frédéric Bruly Bouabré assembles an alphabetical line of pictograms in which he projectes the collection vast knowledge of both material and spiritual worlds. Jan Fabre’s work awaits to be discovered by it’s spectator’s instincts, in a distant corner, Fabre forces the spectators to get involved in a collective experience where the senses are directed to be used in extraordinary ways. Hagia Eirene Museum hosts 22 artists.

Yerebatan as a basilica cistern (Sunken Palace Cistern) is a perfect match for cyber punk narratives with its historical references, architecture and mysterious atmosphere. Most of these narratives take place in dark, gloomy and multi-layered cities under the heavy rain pour like the flow of overloaded/uncontrolled information data. The greenish shallow water reflecting on the huge shining columns and on the moistened dorms with the continuous sound of the spelling of water prepares a ground for cyber punk sequences. Lee Bul’s cyborgs designs, bodiless beautiful semi-ghosts, and many screens displaying “Ghost in the Shell” covers most of the space. With all the works installed, the cistern refers to a quite rich archive such as the drawings of Masume Shirow, William Gibson’s fictions, Philip K. Dick’s replicas, city descriptions of Bruce Sterling,, Tarkovsky’s infamous movie Stalker, the film-noir atmosphere and dark designs of Blade Runner. The plot organization of “Ghost in the Shell” appears as the most dominant theme of the space. In the story, “augmented” humans wired to an Electronic net and cyber spirits are drawn to track down an uncontrollable cybernetic ghost in dystopic darkness, so as to find a memory and identity for themselves. At the end, the cybernetic ghost frees itself from the body by cloning itself infinite times.

This time the cistern operates as an “inter-zone” which is charged by Lee’s approach and imagination. Lee produces “cyborgs”. She reanimates manga and anime stereotypes with the most generic feminine poses. However, each time, these cyborgs, which erect as the sign of advanced technology, are incomplete: either they appear as one organ or a body with “lacking” organs. Lee, who merges power with vulnerability, criticizes both male-dominated discourses stimulating the popular culture and the one sided myths uplifting technology. On the other level, she codes these cyborgs as a “new mode of being” generated from the integration of two mechanisms (human and prosthesis). Just like her mutant monsters, these cyborgs give various references to the human body which forces itself to transform in order to adjust the pace of daily life. Also, these cyborgs project the effort of the body to be free from its limits as it struggles to adapt properly to the extensions of communication technologies devices and the grotesque appearances it takes as it the body tries to unite with mechanic modules. On the other side, Hinterberg’s work of “aeriology”, beneath copper wires, holds the pulse of the Cistern by gathering the resonation. The enchantment of the light reflects on the copper wires and the mood it creates gives another angle to the sci-fi atmosphere of the cistern. Meanwhile Guillermo Kuitica and Omer Ali Kazma’s works, like techno-agents, interrupt the narratives of the space.

Platform: Ottoman Bank Contemporary Art Centre introduces the exhibition “snow.noise” by Cartein Nicolai. It is rather a distinctive venue from the others. A sterile, clear gallery with a blank memory. The exhibition transforms this white gallery into a chemistry laboratory with a combination of works on the formation of snow crystals. Hence, chemical attraction, intuition formations and emotion layers are processed as subjects of an experiment.

Beylerbeyi Palace points the footing of the Biennial on Asian part of the city. Colonnades of the Palace welcomes Evgen Bavcar’s photographs, as well as Leyla Gediz’s works and Okisata Nagata’s sword. Embracing a transmission of collective sensibility and communication, Bavcar’s photographs reveals new unspoiled terrains of perception and cognition: they illustrate new spaces within the space via collective experience.

The Biennial also unveils another interzone which is constructed upon a platform defined by “sleep”. Francis Alys’s slides which imply the theme of “sleep” through a collection documenting the streets of Mexico City are projected in an atmosphere of comfort in the Imperial Mint. Watching a being asleep demands an altered state of “existence” and “non-existence”. The performance of Ma Liuming derives the spectator with an intense purity into a distinct state of conscience, in which he leaves his physical substance to the hands of the spectators. Each and every time sleep constructs its own spatial definition.

The Biennial swathes the city like a spider web throughout the locations of Tower of Leandros, Bosphorus Bridge, Turkish Bath in Çemberlitas, Maçka, Findikli, Besiktas, Tophane and Sultan Ahmet Square. It fuses into the transparent layers of the city. Istanbul appends the Biennial into the amalgamation of techno-surreal imagery, a wonderful scenery, sterile and hygienic gigantic shopping malls, night clubs with cut-and-paste decors, crowded centres, districts of the rich and the poor with anarchic street aesthetics, skyscrapers and overlapped historic references. “Egofugal” traces the hidden beauties in the city while inscribing a map for alternative ways of cognition, sensation and existence.

TREASURE HUNT

published in Regrets, Reveries and Changing Skies curated by Fulya Erdemci.(catalogue)
"Chapter 3: Treasure Hunt"
(both in English and Turkish)
september.23.2001-october.27.2001 in Karsi Sanat Calismalari, Istanbul.
ISBN 975-93621-6-3
© Karsi Sanat Calismalari, 2001.

“There is a memory of the future inside the mirror,
and memory from the past, everything meeting
in the present as a phenomenon of
existence and also the acceptance of life as it is”
Michelangelo Pistoletto*

To stop abruptly in the midst of action accelerated through adrenalin of the rush brought about by breathlessly consumed successive days. Trying to grasp the true experience. Seeking for a clear vision after being detained for a while by the vision of others. This is the starting point of everything. The moment in which everything is frozen. It is a time frame which turns out to be an adventure along with the joy to control the sightline.

Making predictions for the past rather than the future. Discovering new curves, waves, missing details, obscured secrets and concealed beauties. Dwelling in past readings with the full excitement of a treasure hunt.

How can one be sure of what really happened? To what extend is it possible to experience something without revealing its layers? How about the ones lost in memory, did they really happen? Does everyone remember the same thing? What was the whole story? Did everyone feel the same thing? How sharp can the distinction between a reality and a daydream be?

Readings of the past. Dreams. Memories. Reality. As if a hazy path to a sun-drenched texts by Proust. The odyssey becomes deeper as the blur between “reality” and imagination becomes more distinct in his writings which open both the mind and the heart of the reader. A sentence from “Regrets, Reveries, Changing Skies” activates the compass for this treasure hunt: "There is no great difference between the memory of a dream and the memory of a reality"**. Along with the memories, many paths extend to the past. Most of the time a prediction starts the journey. There is always one or more reading inscribed in all of the journeys. Each reading guides towards a reality and each reality illuminates a new path to the future. These is no anxiety of getting lost in these journeys, they change their route towards discoveries free from regrets.

Moving forward through spirals. Re-living everything over and over but each time recording it from a different angle. Finding new clues of the treasure inside details. Converting life into something legible. To be able to become surprised again.

A calculated, written past created through a distant stance taken towards life defeats and castrates life. What is being spent is an abandoned life. Everything is perceived with the vicious manner that of a small child with lost enthusiasm towards a game never played. Maybe the solution is traveling into the past, following a dream that flows towards the call of the treasure. However this call never implies an escape; these journeys go beyond the effort to change life, by operating as a “mirror” which reflects every detail about life as it is.

* Stallabrass, Julian (a quote from an interview with Michelengelo Pistoletto)
Tate: The Art Magazine. Issue No.25 2001 Summer, page 45.

** Proust, Marcel “Regrets, Reveries, Changing Skies”
Pleasures and Days. no. 3 1896; tr. 1948.

FALLING UPON A PARALLEL LIFE

published in Trans Sexual Express Barcelona 2001: A Classic for the Third Millennium, curated by Rosa Martinez. (catalogue)
on Ebru Özseçen's work.
"Falling Upon a Parallel Life"
"Ensopegant amb una vida paral-lela"
"Trapezando con una vida paralela"
(both in English, Spanish and Catalan)
june.27.2001-september.18.2001 in Centre D'art Santa Monica, Barcelona.­


Which one is the real challenge? To live an ordained life with the heaviness of its strict and predictable pattern or to try to build up a new independent life out of what remains from the struggle of that prearranged life.

Which one is easy/painless/undemanding? Which one needs more patience/endurance/ tolerance?

And how can someone compare them or tend to measure the “rectitude” of such a decision? There is no such situation of “being in between them”. It should be truly difficult even for the most probable schizophrenic mind-set to easily comfort itself to adapt and experience both situations without any blankness.

And how can someone be sure about the stability of such a decision? No matter how solid the formation of a life is, the whole ground can be distracted and shifted at any time.

It is a familiar shot from a familiar exposé of life. At first sight, veiled with a cultural shade: A young girl who is believed to be “virgin” offering herself through the legitimised fragility of the coffee cups with envelopes on a silver tray in the company of the confirming witnessing of her parents. Offering herself as a unique gift. Offering fidelity as a promise. Offering the continuation of a secure ordained life as a commitment.

The shot, sooner or later, comes into view as a collective act, which is orbiting around “offering” and now it strikes beneath its cultural coverage.

It is about a basic code inscribed in that very vision: everything has been constructed according to that code. Regardless of its origin, it is strictly and heavily there to shape an average life. It is an immense effort; preparing and to be prepared for it all throughout a lifetime. Like a common hallucination that has been believed truly without a doubt. Like an allegorical play that has been performed plentiful times. It is an old but cerebral play.

In that play, each time, the protagonist is in a hidden conflict with the rest of the manor and flat characters of the play including the spectator of the work itself. In a possible and subtle way, she is carrying inner conflict as a suppressed struggle against herself. The shot “as the identical scene”, she “as the identical subject” simply bends to the taboos with a 45 degree angle. And the spectator of the work responds to this very act by standing in front of it.

Digesting
Confirming.
Witnessing.
Experiencing.
And ignoring.

Nevertheless, ignorance never overshadows the feeling of curiosity towards the secluded corners. What is found beneath is the striking fact: a reflection of yourself on the wall and the reflection of an official governmental form for application in order to become a legal prostitute. It is placed inverted at the back of the photograph as the other side of a coin. The recognition is fair enough. Telling so many things about appearances…about common truths/lies…about decisions…concisely about life. It is not a simple case of the clash between sweet illusion and bitter reality. Nor the guilty consciousness. It is not even emotional violence. As part of life, it is so basic, so familiar, and so predictable. Still, something bizarre comes out of it.

Striking.
Irritating.
Hurting.
Questioning.
And suffocating.

Whatever the costume or the set-up, the real motive is not “to live it”, it is all about its construction. Hence, it is the very question of coping with a “decision” which has registered as the destiny of life.

OBSCURE REMINISCENCES OF THE MIND

published in Unlimited.Nl #4 curated by Vasif Kortun. (catalogue)
"On the artist and 'the works' "
"Obscure reminiscences of the Mind"
"Embeded Phases"
­on Ebru Özseçen and her works.
(in English)
january.26.2001-march.18.2001 in De Appel, Amsterdam
ISBN 90 73501547
© De Appel, Amsterdam, 2001

Something that empties the mind. Is it you?

It is a snow-like gallery in the heart of a saturated city. It is the place where the three works are in operation. It is the place where someone can feel as if falling in love at the intersection point of those strong attraction waves. The chemistry of the works slams into the eye in which the same images being reflected with a guilty pleasure. The pleasure is brusque. There is always fear to lose it; it is so strong. Are you brave enough to play it fully? The novice levels are not enough to prove your chivalrous spirit, though. You should go forward. You should face with the fact that surrounds you. Are you being armed? But still feeling insecure as if trying to control unrehearsed, loaded words of praise that slip out to ground. The magnet-like attraction through the images; feeling disturbed by being gazed while looking at them.

An acute pleasure. A sense of hysteria. Paranoid crises without experiencing the preliminary requirements understand it. Violence and aggression seem to be the only stimulant for the warped mind. Destructive.

Movements of mind swimming with the tide of the looping images. The screens are swinging; passionately operates; marble grapes shine on the tray; wooden staircases evokes the fantasies; the gracious chandelier constantly brightens and darkens; the fish net waves while dressing the old, lonely facet; the innocent boy plays with his wicked toy; the transparent feminine glass object glitters. Thousands of stories to remember, to tell, to hide and to forget.

Isolation.
Desire.
Passion.
Anxieties.
And fears.

Remembering a devoted attachment to anything. Realizing the fact that it is all about love, nothing but simply about “love”.

Just few steps ahead, it is totally assured that the session of déja-vu is in charge with its full productiveness. As if the white dust turns you on. The memories are all over your vision. The inscription of the memoir is clashing with your frustration. Facing with the engraving of the wall in synch with the inscription of your memory. Your mind is fooling around the motives of the inscription. Looping and looping; as if re-experiencing the same thing with the same responses. A motive on an old glass; it is old enough to keep the track of the deep marks of the past. The glass that felt the heath of the lips. Then the moment that you feel the glass breaks in your mouth. A semi-hallucination of the nightmares that crashes the ground while the pieces of breaking glass blinds your eye with the sparkling blue of the dress of the top girl. It is the blade in between being “the precious being” or the “worthless bitch”. It is your time to give the right designation for the one who is thoroughly in love with you. You can leave her in the bed alone or you can simply say how easily you can take a risk. But she is just a top-girl. That familiar type. Everyone knows, sometimes adores, sometime ignores. She is simply a top-girl whom you never dare to comprise her with your life. Any way, she must have learned to take the mistakes with her while eclipsing by the shadow of your cruelty. She is a total mistake by her own. So your conscious is clear and ready to consume the nearest, next another “thing”. There is always a short-term memory loss, which can make your life decent again.

Are you confident now?

FACING WITH LIQUID CRYSTAL MEMORIES

published in Das Lied Von Der Erde curated by Rene Block. (catalogue)
"Facing with with Liquid Crystal Memories"
"Begegnung mit Erinnerungen aus Flüssigkristall"
–on Ebru Özseçen's work "The Red Architecture Venetian Boy's Dream Ornaments,
1997-2000". june.10.2000-oct.3.2000 in Museum Fridericianum Kassel
ISBN 3-927015-23-7
(both in German and Turkish)
© Museum Fridericianum Kassel, 2000.

It is about love. It is nothing, but “love”.

Entering a dark room by passing unexpected trap doors in the mind. Being armed, still feeling insecure as if trying to control unrehearsed, loaded words of praise that slip out to the ground.

No action to take. No word to say. It is automatically banned in the mind. The load of the room is at its ideal state; any articulation may possibly disorient its sense of balance. The nature of this zone somehow forces the visitor to obey what it possesses. Being a silent witness. Being a subtle part of this vague huge black box. Starting to get a morbid pleasure out of this surrounding. It is the genuine of the artist as the architect of such a layered organic/mechanic construction. Disguising her intention on the invisible facet of these layers.

A master memoir slams into the conscious with seven diverse moving images, which are demanding, insensitive and indifferent to each other. The magnet-like attraction catches the visitor like the way they pull each other. In the vein of desire machines, the seven pieces operate by catching and stimulating the visitor’s desire mechanism. The power it generates overloads the layers of the black box by channelling this energy to the visitor. This energy attacks the mind and strikes back to the dark walls of the room.

Focusing in and out the slices of memory. Getting lost in the maze of scales and movements of these lightening images. It is an unparalleled beauty. The “visitor” begins to feel agitated at the slightest incident of the memories; a shallow pain diffuses from scars of the past. A sense of belonging, which could also be a mere part of a sexual nature. Feeling high. Recalling various old smells. Tasting the bitterness of a chocolate.

“Isn’t it exactly the symptom of love?”

A challenge that has to be taken to retain an identity and integrity. A dead ringer for watching one’s obscene record as if reading the colourful stanzas of a romantic poem. Extreme cases. An acute pleasure. A sense of hysteria. A paranoid crisis without experiencing the preliminary requirements to understand it. Violence and aggression seem to be the only stimulant for the warped mind. Destructive.

Tidal movement of the mind coordinates with the looping images: The machine passionately works; marble grapes shines on the tray; wooden staircases evokes the fantasies; the gracious chandelier constantly brightens and darkens; the fish net waves while dressing the old, lonely facet; the innocent boy plays with his wicked toy; the transparent feminine glass objects glitters. Thousands of stories to remember, to tell, to hide and to forget. This invigorating experience cannot be just a tool to satisfy the temporary needs and hunger. There is a missing link somewhere; between the embarrassing actual experience and the fiction of the future within a daydream. Embarrassment always comes into surface at a point where the mind is disillusioned with life.

Isolation.
Desire.
Passion.
Anxieties.
And fears.

Remembering a devoted attachment to anything. It is about love. It is simply “love”.

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WINDOW

published in 
Domus m, Magazine of Architecture, Design, Art and Communication"
The Other Side of the Window"

(both in Turkish and English)

© Domus m, dec-jan, 2000.

Television is a piece of cult apparatus that with a momentum equal to that of the consumption mechanism of popular culture has established a place in daily life. The televisual flow is formatted for unconscious addiction, providing toxins of curiosity in 72 dpi tablets. On the overloaded data network, and forward and backwards leaps of digital images and text codes, it offers virtual timelessness and spacelessness index to real time and the machine. It is a noisy piece of machinery which deciphers capitalism; a frantic mechanism which filters and melts the context and content of everything that it conveys through the ‘time’ reference which it codes itself.

Time is passing. Television is flowing. Television is keeping us waiting. Past and future are being repeated in time present. New interpretations of unexpected and unusual ‘bad news’ are given live on different channels. It is impossible to be satisfied. More. Worse. Every item of bad news repeated in present time, with the impact of an alien which pops up in a sci-fi horror film, becomes still more dramatic as expectations gain momentum. The prototype figure of our times who rushes through daily life with breathtaking speed and intensity continues to be pinned to the screen waiting for bad news to come. A network of dystopic expectation accompanies fin de siecle melancholy.

But television is insatiable. The characteristics, which have become a cult over the past half-century have the future of communications technology under their thumb. As the impeccable manifestation of ‘push’ technology, television acts as guide to the computer, the child prodigy of ‘pull’ technology. The supposedly ‘unmentionable’ apparatus of old technology is changing the hypertext logic of Internet pages. Images flowing live on the computer screens, news tickers, which are simultaneously influence by stock market news, and flashing banners which change every 10k/10 seconds. The logic of television is shaping ever-advancing communication technology together on the Internet. The commercial confusion which began with ‘settop boxes’ is bringing push and pull technology together on the Internet. The screensaver, which seeks an empty moment on the screen is transformed into the Economist screen bringing global economic news. Java technology and flash animations are transforming interactive navigation pages into television screens. Film blurb, music clips , and new computer games revolve in the form of lists. While CNN sprinkles flowing real images in its Internet pages, on its live Q&A television programme the studio guests is asked questions via Internet. Zapping by backwards and forwards leaps on the Internet continue. The screen is forever flowing.

The Utopian expectations associated with the millennium compete with television’s dystopic discourse. While developing technology is credited to the millennium, the dystopic discourse overflowing from the sphere of television is regarded as the threat of innovation coded to itself. The life of reality belonging only behind the screen and of flowing information continues until another is reached. The televisual flow, together with the linked movements of Internet pages is coded as a window allowing us access to our private lives as the promotion of the culminating stage of capitalism through the filter of pull and push technologies.

No privacy, no memory, space is lost and time empties. Mirrored postmodern windows do not allow images past. They reflect the interior and cut off the exterior.

‘Windows’
- Paul Virilio defines television as a third window onto the world in “The Third Window: An Interview with Paul Virilio”. Global Television Int. Jonathan Crary, Trans. Yvonne Shafir Eds. Cyntia Shneider and Brian Wallis. Cambridge; Massachusetts; London: The MIT Press, 1991.
- Pull technology: The content is selected by the user and pulled into the foreground.
- Push technology: The content is pushed onto the viewer without defining any linking element.
- Settop boxes: The first commercial ‘cross-link’ using modems to access the internet via television sets.
- News tickers/advertising banners: Commercial visual areas combining pull and push technologies on computer.
- Navigation window: A window by which the user explores a data base, hypertext or hypermedia programme on the Internet.
- CNN Q&A: A television programme consisting of questions and answers (entered live by e-mail).
- Java technology: Like the visual communication language HTML (Hyper Text Mark-up Language) developed to work on all computers, Java is a technology developed as a visual programming language adaptable to all computer environments.
- Flash animation: An interactive visualization platform also including a flexible drawing method developed after Java.

A CLANDESTINE DOOR ::: 7th International Istanbul Biennial

published in Barcelona Art Report 4, Experiencies
"A Clandestine Door: 7th International Istanbul Biennial, 2001"
"Una Porta Clandestina: VII Biennal Internacional d'Istanbul"
"Una Puerto Clandestina: Istanbul Biennial, 2001"
(both in English, Spanish and Catalan)
© Barcelona Art Report, 2001.


It is a dark scene… A tough life… Economic crisis in Turkey has accelerating consequences on various areas and levels of life. Now everything is so difficult to afford, to tolerate and to grasp. The struggle for survival eliminates the other needs of life. Any further expectation from life turns out to be an extravagance and almost a state of madness. The situation seems to be even more desperate for Turkish artists, curators and art critics. Within this depressing state, The Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts challenges the inhabitants of Istanbul with “art”. Miraculously, The 7th International Istanbul Biennial is being realized followed by other independent exhibitions around. This time the Biennial introduces a rather distinctive view filtered by the Japanese curator Yuko Hasegawa. It is a view that proposes way outs from the gloomy “perception of life” blocked by the restless and knotty future narrations of the 21st century. Hasegawa carries a different mode of being to this cosmopolite geography mostly from the Far East.

The works easily integrate with the city texture. As a result, the texture of the city is an amalgamation of techno-surrealist images, picturesque sights, hi-life regions, poverty-stricken districts with anarchic street aesthetics, glamorous entertainment zones with cut and paste designs, hygienic and synthetic shopping centers, hi-tech buildings and superimposed historic references. Istanbul is a beautiful and mysterious city with a chaotic order. Like a spider net, the works of the Biennial surround the city. Apart from the main venues of the Biennial, it is possible to come across any of them in various corners of the city -such as in Sultan Ahmet Square, on the Bosphorus Bridge, over the billboards, on platforms throughout the city, and in many other unpredictable locations. The city welcomes the Biennial with the Turkish hospitality and with the infamous Turkish curiosity for the unknown treasures of other geographies. Hence, the concept of the Biennial could have a healing effect over the dim thoughts of life. It shows different paths and routes to various kinds of doors of hope – of course, for the ones who are capable of using the keys.

Hasegawa elucidates the concept of the Biennial along with the term “Egofugal” - which indicates various sources of life. Sharply diverging from the Cartesian Logic, it designates diffusing away from the center by possessing diversities and identities. It proposes “a mode of being” that never loses the productive and constructive part of the “Ego”, while being careful about not being trapped by “similarity” or totally being “indifferent and self-centered”. For the works and the artists, “invading territories” is not the case, however showing the ways to share a metaphysical space is the key point. “This is a story of a metaphysical space shared by creators living in consciousness, information, body, intelligence, time and speed, instead of space” *. It is possible to follow the traces of this story within the works. Most of them are located in Hagia Eirene Museum, Imperial Mint, The Yerebatan Cistern, Beylerbeyi Palace, and Platform: Ottoman Bank Contemporary Art Center.

The Hagia Eirene Museum is originally a Byzantine basilica. Owing to its historical background and architectural structure, it appears to be an ideal but at the same time challenging space for such an exhibition that heavily requires electronic equipment. The works in the museum become more visible when sunlight leaves the space. As if Hagia Eirene itself gets activated with the sunlight; instead of absorbing the light, it amplifies its brightness. Most of the works need close-reading and concentration. The various range of mechanical noise/sound coming from different directions fills the space. It seems that the space has been transformed into a spatial organism of information. The vivid colors of the Far East spreading around the ground add more life this very being.

Hagia Eirene hosts 22 artists. Among these artists, there is Magnus Wallin whose video still was used as the image of the Biennial’s poster and the catalogue cover. Hussein Chalayan with his refined designs and short film, Rafael Lozano-Hemmer with his algorithmic mechanism which poses questions reflected to the balcony walls, and Ana Maria Tavares with her work “Exit II” are also outstanding artists in the Hagia Eirene. Furthermore, Jan Fabre’s exceptional work along with films which operate opposite each other have a special place regardless of its different tone from the other works in Hagia Eirene.

The stunning structure of the Imperial Mint provides a solely massive space for the Biennial. The Imperial Mint welcomes its spectators with a “UFO” that was constructed in 1970 with polyester by Matti Suuronen. Most of the works in this area question the various discourses raised around technology. In one of the rooms, there is Kim Young Jin’s “Swing” that illustrates how personal experiences are altered into episodic texts. In the next room Rachel Berwick’s tropical corner comes out as an excerpt from a tale. The parrots that speak a language of a destroyed tribe raises questions concerning memory, preservation, loss and recovery. In another room, Dominique Gonzales-Foersters’s video animation underlines future worries and uncertainties of communication. “Ann Lee” as the very same 2D character of this piece takes a role in Philippe Parreno’s video animation as well. In this touching animation of Parreno, in reference to “Ghost in the Shell” **, Ann Lee utters the climax statement of the Biennial: “I am no ghost, just a shell”. In the same context, Chris Cunningham’s video clips for Bjork in “All is full of love” and for Aphex Twin in “Come to Daddy” and “Window Licker” loop constantly in a room out of site.

The Imperial Mint welcomes 33 artists with different tendencies, cultures, backgrounds and ages, thus, “egofugality” brings them together. Hasegawa simply shows us that “egofugality” requires “collective consciousness”, “collective intelligence”, and “co-existence”. Hence, most of the works share a common stance and magnetism. For instance, although David Moonan-Simon Trevaks’s work seems to pole apart from Motohoki Odani’s “9 Room”, the magnet like attraction and their source of reference which re-animates in little box-like rooms are nearly the same. Likewise, more daily-life oriented works such as Francis Alys’ “Sleepers”, Leandro Erlich’s “Neighbors” and Omer Ali Kazma’s “Super Sonic Family” lead the audience to a puzzling and mind-expanding experience.

Without a doubt, Yerebatan Cistern (Sunken Palace Cistern) is the most attractive venue of the Biennial. This Cistern used to provide water to the Byzantine Palace. It dwells the spectator in a dark and wet zone of dreaminess. The humid, huge shining columns, the spell of rain water, slippery ground of stones, the greenish shallow water with the humming sound of the works makes the Cistern a perfect platform for a sci-fi theme. After entering the Cistern from wet staircases, the very experience of the space instantly transforms to a journey through cyberpunk fictions. Under the dorms of the Cistern, this journey passes through Masume Shirow’s drawings of “augmented” humans wired to an Electronic net, William Gibson’s fictions, cybernetic extensions and prosthesis, information highways, semi-cybernetic human agents and virtual environments. Lee Bul’s cyborgs designs, bodiless beautiful semi-ghosts, and many screens displaying “Ghost in the Shell” operate together. They conquer the space and freeze it with the ultimate question and objective to become truly human. On the other side, Hinterberg’s work of “aeriology”, beneath copper wires, holds the pulse of the Cistern by gathering the resonation. Omer Ali Kazma’s tricky animation breaks the silence of the space like a techno-agent.

The works of Evgen Bavcar, Leyla Gediz, Osikato Nagata and Henrietta Lehtonen are located in the Beylerbeyi Palace. Platform: Ottoman Bank Contemporary Art Center introduces an exhibition by Cartein Nicolai. Nicolai presents a sterile combination of works on formation of intuition and thought loops, emotions and chemical attraction via the whiteness and coldness of snow crystals. Gabriel Orozco, on the other hand, replaces city furniture with his designs; they are all around the city. The billboards of Fuat Sahinler, Murat Sahinler, and Ahmet Soysal are a kind of call for “collective consciousness” to the inhabitants of Istanbul. In the front part of the Tuyap Exhibition Center, Rirkrit Travanija projects cult films. James Turrell’s work, which is located on Maiden's Tower, can be seen at night from both sides of the Bosphorus. Meanwhile, Alber Garutti lights the Bosphorus Bridge starting from Zeynep Kamil Hospital each time a baby is born. On Kawara realizes the “Pure Consciousness” project in a Kindergarten; this project has traveled 5 countries before Istanbul. Cambalache Collective Street Museum is having a journey throughout the streets following the labyrinth-like map of Istanbul. Maja Bajevic’s performance took place in Cemberlitas Hammam, whereas Sislej Xhafa’s performance was in Sultan Ahmet Square – which is one of the crowded and busy locations of Istanbul. Last but not least, Ma Liuming realized two performances both in the isle of Maiden's Tower and The Imperial Mint. His awe-inspiring performances allocate a clandestine door to a different world where all the deliberate/calculated/premeditated conceptions of life are buried with a serene dignity.

Subsequently, The 7th International Istanbul Biennial carries exceptional beauties and information to Istanbul; it is certainly a different mode of knowledge. The Biennial will be held for two months. During these two months, not only the spectators, but the works as well will be transformed throughout “collective” experiences shared with the inhabitants of Istanbul.

* Hasegawa, Yuko. “Next Emergence From The Edge Of Chaos: Istanbul”.
Egofugal: 7th International Istanbul Biennial.
Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts. 2001, Istanbul p:9 ISBN 975 –7383 – 22 – 7
** Ghost in the Shell is a cult manga and animated film written by Masamune Shirow, directed by Mamoru Oshii, 1995.