I sometimes feel myself like Alice, in ‘Alice İn Wonderland’, running after the rabbit. The rabbit looks at its watch and says “I’m late…… I’m late” which speeds me up as well. Or sometimes I find myself in front of a canvas, dreaming and painting.
I find it in a weird place that belongs to the old-fashioned past of my childhood memories neither west or east.
Though still existing, it also gets out of focus day by day. I open a white page of my necessities whilst entering to the complete darkness of lost.
I still search my colors and dreams in this go between world of complete black and white.
Seasons of the Run
Seasons out of Time…
Goodbye to you my trusted friend
We've known each other since we were nine or ten
Together we've climbed hills and trees
Learned of love and ABC's
Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees
Goodbye my friend it's hard to die
When all the birds are singing in the sky
Now that spring is in the air
Pretty girls are everywhere
Think of me and I'll be there
We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the run…
But the hills that we climbed
Were just seasons out of time…
Terry Jacks song
Lyrics by Jacques Brel / Rod Mckuen
‘Black earth, my faithful beloved.’ Aşık Veysel
We come from the earth, and we return to the earth, as ancient wisdom says. Yet, earth is in short supply today with the rapid increase in population and urbanization, bringing about ever-expanding concrete jungles along with the cruel exploitation of nature. With even our precious arable lands being smothered by concrete, we are on the fast-track towards earning ourselves the moniker “the concrete generation”. Even if some of us still dream about returning to our roots, making peace with the earth and remaking ourselves from its fabric, we are unfortunately few and very far between. The majority who have lost the dream of nature have instead grown adept at another skill—one of pretending, and camouflage.
‘Camouflage’ shows how an excellent imitation of a tree can be decorated to represent its opposite in nature through colors. In doing so, it shows us a glimpse of how our lives seem like plastic imitations when faced with the real, which is fragile, transient, and above all else, mortal. While camouflage itself may be multi-colored, in truth, it is nothing but a monochrome reflection of a fake world—a warning that we may be fooling ourselves even on a journey filled with color.
Hope is the thing with feathers
Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Concept of neighbor in the age of transition from traditional to modern
While we still keep tradition alive, the concept of "neighborhood" has evolved by the new definitions of modernity. Up to now, according to our conventional conception of "neighbor", the most
important commonality we had with our neighbors was the proximity of the living space we shared whether or not we loved, saw or liked them. In brief, we were unavoidably a part of intimate territory with our neighbors. Today, despite the possibility that we might not know or even see our next-door neighbor, we have new close friends and neighbors everywhere in
the world with whom we share all of our secrets. In fact, "neighbor" is removed from physical proximity, only to start expanding and revolving around the Internet and the virtual world. While in the past we used to say "welcome" and give a dish or a slice of cake to our neighbors, today they are replaced by lives at the center of our own that we follow on the internet and influence, while these lives in turn influence ours. In the digital world built on bright visuality, traditional conceptions of the old changed form. These two series of installations (a dish for my neighbor) symbolize the metamorphosis of the concept of neighbor, with hand-painted plates alluding to the customs of the past while plates made up of new, shiny digital technique symbolize the spirit of the day built on visuality. Today and in
the future, we will go through and understand together the new rituals and values of the flamboyant world which increasingly becomes more digital.
Success is rewarded and receiving an award for merit is always very pleasing. But many a time good work is overlooked and people do not get what they deserve because of modesty or lack of sufficient media recognition.
Publicity and being mediatic are considered as assets in this era where thousands of heroes have not been awarded a "trophy".
We console ourselves by saying that everyone in this life should at least own a coffee cup.
A lover in every harbour
Let’s go back again to the Jack London novels of our childhood. It must be the greatest happiness for every sailor to find a shelter in a safe port after being at seas fighting the hard northern winds, tough storms and crazy winds for days or months.
Myths about sailors tell us that they have a lover in each harbour. But every ship has to say goodbye to the harbour and the shelter after some time. Both the sailors who return to open seas and their lovers feel the unattainable longing but it is is even harder for those who are left behind. Ahead lie new adventures but the lovers at the ports live the tiring captivity of an endless waiting.
So, in my interpretation of “A lover in every harbour” “what the sea takes and what it leaves behind” has taken shape in my “colours”.
Here colour is a texture and the manifestation of the
different feelings of every single individual. A harbour, is a shelter for serenity, and a happy moment for love, it comes and goes, leaves a mark and life continues.
And creates a different feeling in every heart.
What comes to your mind when you think of a balcony? “Maya People on the Balcony” by Goya? There are no men scaring smiling happy women within their darkened worlds or behind the iron fences resembling prison bars on my balcony.
Edouard Monet’s balcony? No, my balcony is not like that. Because on my balcony there are no women who turned backs to the men’s world, unhappily staring at the horizon with an absent look of their lost egos.
My balcony is not a place. Actually it is not an open-top ledge overflowing out of the building either.
My balcony, is a location overlooking everybody but never corrupted by the dark shades of arrogance.
Situated at the centre of everything with no compromise from its unlimited colours. I am inside of everything, and totally out. I keep on turning with the world and gain colours, Because I look at life from (-dan) the moon (Ay-). I look as Aydan does.
The real, true self mine…
TO BE OR NOT TO BE
A helmet. Is it the only thing to protect a miner from very hard, even deadly working conditions? Like Hamlet who questions the existence with a skull on his hand, "to be or not to be"; a rhetoric questioning of our humanity confined in a helmet. He mirrors our existence through a helmet and stands between life and death to ask a realistic question to us.
Newroz is the celebration of the renaissance, good wishes and sharing the same feeling of of peace in our hearts for the mutual utopia.
This work is a mixture of single turning into plural / plural into single to represent the uniqueness in abstract.
Patchwork of my Soul
One of them is listening to the music of joy. One of them is still hugging her lover. One is murmuring uneasily. One is missing and going away, one's head is a little bit up in the air One is coward, one is brave One likes to sleep alone, one is has got the blues all the way One does not have great expectations anymore…
All my moods live together with me…They talk a lot, they feel a lot…My soul is like a patchwork made of all . My groovy soul is on canvas reveals itself in blues,oranges, reds & greens. I know they all have different personalities yet they live all together. Like as if we are on the same planet on the same timeline… But the roles differ ,so are my moods. I have a single soul but we are also too crowded inside.
COMPOSITION “Powder Time” - 2014
An ad break, time for a need!
I have been involved in advertisement business for the last 30 years. As a designer, I should be fond of the ad breaks. I have to watch the commercials especially, as well as I have to ask people around me to watch them or force my staff not to ever miss any of them when playing.
Commercials mostly appear at a critical moment in a film on the TV, or at an ad break at the cinema. This is the moment we all wait for that critical need. And that inspired me for this “an ad break, time for a need!” project.
Today we are living in a world consuming the “new”s, buying another “new”s, being influenced by the “buying the new” dynamics in the commercials and this put into my mind this project that I prepared by painting and installing the cores of the finished toilet paper and paper towel rolls that I did not throw away after use. People around me helped to collect the empty cores as well and I had quite a good stock.
Me, my paint stuff and the cores; we were at an ad break (powder time). I thought of making something different to implement awareness. And this is what I did during the time for need
Evolution - 2014
The traditional wooden paste rollers, are living in our kitchens for centuries…Processing balls of paste into very thin layers by force and command.As they were always around, women used them to defend themselves, and they also appeared on the cartoons as their weapon of violence.Nowadays in the world of different evolutions, they are the symbol against the resolution of complicated personal and public dilemma.The more evolutions are colourful, enthusiastic, non-similar and about life, the more we can be together. If not the wooden rollers of violence and freedom smash us easily, even their women masters.
Birds & Fairies – 2013
Life inspires every love.
And sometimes the dreams do…
Every love gets its magic from life,
Whereas life is love actually,
Is endurance, is patience, is longing and is reaching…
Migratory birds go only where life is beautiful,
Just like the angels…
If you still believe in angels,
And if this naïve romance brings you and love together,
Your words turn into colours…
You fall into a dream,
Where the feelings disappear in colours…
The intuition and courage of the migratory birds,
Meet the invisible presence of the angels,
And some paint, a few dreams disappear in the universe…
The invisible angels in my drawings are as courageous
as the Birds; colourful and free…
If you are asked to be a bird or an angel,
Which one would you choose?
I did both of them.
Painted my selection on canvas.
And I think as a painter once said “I am still painting”
Still a drawing makes me talk to the birds and the angels.
It must be hard to grow up…
after a time…
Dressing – 2013
A classical Adam & Eve story…
Things you want to forget, things you do not want to see, just place on hangers
Your problems wait on hangers just like the insoluble nodes…Sometimes you see many sorrows and negatives on the hanger so you empty it
But if you are aware of life, you are aware what you put on hanger
The hanger carries the part of your life you do not see, you do not use, postponed taboos and secret heavy skeletons.
Briefly your life remains on hanger.
The Journey of the Log – 2012
We found this log on a sandy beach, half burnt, washed by the waves and wind through the past years. We picked it up and brought it to our workplace. Cleaned it, painted, varnished it and sent it to a good friend of ours. Here’s the story of our log from overseas, in colours and shiny.
Textures from the table to the wall - 2012
Life starts on a served table, with all the family and friends around. Delicious food on the plates leads the colour and the texture from table to the wall.
Chorus and solo songs
A reference from the past; the name of a music programme… “Folding fan” is my choice from the past years within the “Chorus and solo songs” concept. The kitsch samples collaged of those times are reminded by this work, giving a meaning to every kind of music.
Capable: A life based on; watching, a quick glance, window shopping and being attractive…Being clear all around instead of mystery or hiding…To be exposed in a shop window…We are all in a shop window, good or bad.We have different clothes, glittering titles, envelopes surrounding us, and what breaks us through the shop window, from being the same, reminding that we are human but without exposing ourselves.Enclosure instead of an envelope… These small sketches of men and women; the glittering and shining figures on the shop window. May be for the ones who want to be capable.
Works from 2010
KAGİDER Exhibitions - 2010
Short Stories of My Life
Short Stories of My Life When I turned 50, I realised that it was a milestone in my life and how worthy those 50 years were.
“Short Stories of My Life” Project was designed to show every passing year of my life as well as the growing story books. It was exhibited in Frankfurt Book Fair, and torn out. It was re-installed and brought back to its original shape after coming back to Turkey