Friday, 10 September 2010

To participate or follow?

(views on the current situation of the Istanbul art scene)

The majority of Istanbul's art museums, institutions, initiatives and galleries opened during the last four to five years. There are of course exceptions. Among the most important of these are the International Istanbul Biennial which started proceedings in 1987 and has since occurred almost every two years, with the eleventh and most recent edition having opened in September 2009. Early permanent spaces included Borusan Art Gallery, which opened in 1999 (but closed in 2006) and Platform Garanti Contemporary Art Center, which opened its gallery in 2001 and temporarily closed in late 2007 to undergo renovation1. Prior to 2004, there were also several artist-run spaces the most well-known being Hafriyat, Oda Projesi and Apartment Projesi and a small number of commercial galleries located mainly in the affluent district of Nisantasi. Galerist and Galeri Nev. remain open, albeit with new or additional premises and work specifically with contemporary artists. Since the strategically timed early opening of Istanbul Modern in December 2004, (to coincide with the European Union's decision to begin accession talks with Ankara) each year more spaces open within three main categories - museum-scale institutions such as santralistanbul and Pera Museum, artist run initiatives that include BAS, PiST///, URA! and Alti Aylik, and most recently new commercial galleries: Rodeo, Outlet, X-ist and Non.

Yet, despite this recent proliferation in the city's array of art spaces, there still seems to be a void that has yet to be filled. This has in part to do with a lack of public money, but also a penchant for the commercial and the spectacle. Hence, the intellectually stimulating, but unusually constructed works that are not made in the tradition of understood art forms such as painting or representative sculpture are deemed aesthetically awkward. These art works are often by local yet internationally established artists and they somehow slip between the spaces that do exist. While there are some clearly focused programs at spaces including BAS and Rodeo, there are still too few that are continuous in their activities and accumulatively productive.

This compilation of a series of conversations with Istanbul-based artists Can Altay, Cevdet Erek and Leyla Gediz was initiated by curator November Paynter in order to consider from different perspectives what element of the contemporary art scene appears to be lacking, why this situation exists and what kind of action can potentially help to make the local cultural sector more complete2.

NP: Let's talk first about the period before the 2009 International Istanbul that is still fresh in our minds, in order to look beyond these bi-annual periods when we anticipate and experience a range of temporary additional spaces, events and critical discussions to boost the variety, number and quality of contemporary art activities for a nominal period of around three months. I want to ask Can and Cevdet about your experiences of living and working in Istanbul before this influx of new spaces started opening around 2005 and why you think that you have not yet had a solo exhibition in the city?

CE: I left the country in 2004 and returned permanently at the start of 2007. During these years I was coming and going, but as I was never offered an agenda to present my work here. I also made no serious attempt to do so. I have been back in Istanbul for two and half years now, but I still move around a lot and feel that few people in the Istanbul art world really know that I am based here and this is partly because there is so little written locally about which artists are presenting where and who is doing what. Since returning I have been asked to do several projects such as an event at Platform in 2007 and three small works during the 2009 biennial; but many requests are for simple projects that can be done with ease and extracted just as easily, particularly performance based work. Some invitations come so unprofessionally late that there is no time to begin to consider realistic production. Still there has been no commercial or solo proposal, and I feel this is likely to do with my work not being easy to handle; it appears conceptual and while art initiatives here aim to be more socially and politically engaged, the commercial spaces are mostly not interested in forms of artistic practice that do not fit their understanding of what art should be.

CA: I have not had a solo exhibition because I have not been invited to do so. The general lack of solo presentations may have to do with Istanbul experiencing a tradition of group exhibitions that could be seen to stem from the model of the most prestigious - the biennial. What has been seen before is taken as the route to follow, it is the only arsenal to take from so to speak. There also seems to be a confusion about curating, in that it is often viewed as being a series of short-term activities that are as simple as bringing a group of artists or even just work together to form an exhibit. Whereas, my experiences from elsewhere and my personal view of the role of the curator is that these individuals should be interested in mutual collaborations with artists and long-term relationships that help to breed artistic production. In this context, the question for an artist such as myself is to consider: what is our responsibility? Is it to show work regardless of the context so that our work is seen and shared, or is it to wait for the ideal context, which may be too long coming?

NP: Returning to the current situation and the period of this biennial; there were a few exhibitions that responded to the lack of solo exhibitions such as Istanbul Modern's exhibition with Sarkis and santralIstanbul, hosting a retrospective of the Turkish artist Yüksel Arslan who is based in Paris and bar an exhibition at New York's Drawing Center in 2008 has been internationally and locally overlooked. There were also other initiatives that appeared to consider what has been missing and took the initiative to fill some gaps. But surprisingly most of these were commercially invested projects such as the site-specific solo show by Güclü Öztekin in an abandoned storage space organized by Galerist, The InBetween – a very formal and well-presented commercial exhibition of internationally renowned artists' works put together by Suzanne Egeran a curator and art advisor based in London and Rodeo's solo exhibition of Emre Hüner that presented new work produced specifically for the biennial period and within an ongoing relationship between the gallery and the artist. What are your thoughts on the parallel events organized this year during the eleventh International Istanbul biennial What Keeps Mankind Alive, which was curated by the Zagreb based collective WHW?

CA: In any similar conversation about this speed of growth in Istanbul I always defend the biennial, because of the potential, and because of the possibilities it has shown the city and individual artists. But on the other hand it really creates these periodical wombs of quasi-structures. Take this year for example; if you look at the parallel events you see this huge array of commercial exhibitions, which is problematic as it sets a single tone and does not leave space for more experimental practices, and when you refer back to the previous biennial in 2007, you will see that then the craze was to open artist-run initiatives. And previous to that the Istanbul Modern was a by-product of the 2003 biennial. That said, I still support the biennial for its activities and exhibitions; I am just more interested in the systems that form a 'whole' situation and how artists and young people perceive what is being presented, as the critical aspect is what happens locally alongside such an event as the biennial. While the biennial is not responsible for peripheral activities, this year in particular the coinciding exhibitions are not clearly defined except by commerciality. And this year, a new trend saw people from outside of Turkey coming to Istanbul to open such exhibitions.

NP: Can you expand further on this approach of opening ‘types’ of spaces and how the tendency in Istanbul seems to be to formalize entities automatically, without taking the time to allow them to shape a specific, but as yet undetermined form?

CA: It seems that there is too much emphasis on branding and identity. Of course not every artist initiative in the city approaches their activities with this attitude, but definitely there is a lack of formation, meaning that spaces do not give themselves time to evolve into what they will later be identified as, instead they rush to define themselves. It also feels like there was this diagnosis of there being no artist-run spaces a few years ago, and this diagnosis was sort of solved or 'cured' by making artist initiatives, or forms, or collectives that immediately acted as artist initiatives. In a sense some of these felt too constructed, and they are essentially adopted identities, which is a problem also.

LG: I agree that there seems to be such a need for defining what a space is rather than letting it grow organically. The scene in Istanbul is young, and artists, audiences, and collectors pressure new galleries into taking on, or proposing to immediately position and name, the definition of what they understand a gallery to be; be that an institutional or commercial model that they have likely experienced elsewhere first. The attitude is that branding in all fields should be aspired to and the same goes for galleries, where those who have the loudest voice and most heavy-handed impact are those the artists desire to be tagged as part of, by extension when the 'main' commercial gallery is full the younger artists are open to other rising brands that they imagine others will soon also aspire to, which is an aggressive approach to creativity.

CA: The need to label it, to name it, to build an attitude, which without being formulaic are structures that should be allowed to happen and evolve over time. And anyway, why do we need definitions? I think the Berlin-based Turkish curator Adnan Yildiz said about the current absence of Platform Garanti “that because it was such a polar force, its temporary absence blurs everything.” That polar position was a clear agenda - to build an archive, produce work and make exhibitions – and this gave structure and set out the other polar positions available to the rest of the art scene.

NP: Picking up on your mention of Platform, I think we would all agree that its inauguration by Vasif Kortun helped power Istanbul's contemporary art drive. During its initial years of development it attempted to balance many needs, encouraging different forms of presentation, with elements of production and exchange. It appeared for me as a foreigner, who was working with Platform at that time, that during its early years from 2001 to 2005 there was a clearer structure to the rest of the art scene in Istanbul, despite it being very small. But, with the sudden speed of growth that began in late 2004, somehow various gaps started becoming much more defined. In 2005, Platform was already becoming more institutionalised, its residency program had expanded to include numerous international guests each year, and the institution had clear plans to further formalize its embodiment by looking-forward to the potential for a new model, a more stable financial situation and a fully-resourced building that would house far more than just the gallery, studios and offices. At the same time some of the city's other clear sites of artistic endeavour had also shifted their position or disappeared3. Today I feel we have encountered a period when cultural structuring starts to be put in motion, but it is still finding its feet and therefore the earlier more simple structure, one that is in fact relatively recent, becomes one that we recall with great fondness. How do you feel about these changes and developments and Platform's position and current closure in particular?

CA: A space can evolve as Platform did initially (from an office for archiving and conversation) into a larger structure that in time gives way to various smaller initiatives who then go on to take the previous form of the forerunners. But at some point, perhaps the one we are at now, there will be a moment of saturation and dilution, because the obvious way to fill the now clearly presented gap is to bring the obvious – meaning to bring what is seen in other cities rather than allowing natural development. The biggest failure of modernisation for many countries including Turkey is the issue of feeling like it is lagging behind, and in particular in Istanbul this has created a culture of copying and replicating, a situation where people follow rather than participate in global discourse. This is not so valid for the individuals who continue to pursue interesting artistic production, and also what was relevant about Platform was that it positioned itself as a participant rather than a follower. But, generally there is a hunger in the rest of the system (collectors, art spaces, institutions) to become what has been seen to succeed before or elsewhere. The nostalgia for Platform needs to be channelled into a shared momentum where schools of thought are considered as a current urgency.

CE: The major spaces that do exist do so on the back of a physical embodiment of what a museum or gallery should be – they have the architecture, some structure, but their programs are almost as static as their walls. They are not fresh, free-moving or willing to experiment. Many of these spaces were set up with one key person directing their program, interests, and focus. As they are all private this is their prerogative, but it closes down accessibility and sets a specific agenda, which is often very similar for each institution.

NP: This lack of art spaces creating and channelling decisions through committees and boards, at least those that are clearly defined and made public, certainly creates an incestuous situation both for the artists being invited to present, and also the professionals invited to work within these institutional walls. And because of this, it feels that at the moment there is no seriously functioning space that belongs to the community, and no space that is interested in listening to the broader interests of those it is hoping to claim as its audience. The only entities that do this to some extent are artist collectives such as Hafriyat, but then the community is made up of their own very close-knit group of members. Other examples seem more interested in their local doorstep community, or social integration, rather than offering a professional structure.

LG: One of the early models that appeared to have a board-like structure was Apartment Projesi. Selda Asal, the founder of this space in the Tunel area of Beyoglu, created a situation that artists could approach in the knowledge that their work and proposals would be considered. On the other hand, if you wish to progress with an individual position the best approach is to keep it small, focused and with character, as progression does not necessarily need to be about expansion.

CE: It would be great to have a situation where fifteen to twenty people are invited to discuss the program of a certain space, where idea-sharing becomes normal practice. The situation is still very much based on personal relationships, and therefore it is rare that a process of consensus results in an invitation to exhibit. Without advisory committees it is impossible to confirm who is really producing the most interesting and valid work.

LG: This lack of open conversation is also due to the lack of it taking place in the educational arena. There has been hardly any change in educational policy over the last twenty years in Turkish universities’ art departments. There is a reluctance towards renewal, and few opportunities for part-time teaching, or circulation, and so things remain stagnant and there is little space for new conversation or chain reactions of communication. The other problem is that art departments do not often offer studio spaces, and so even while studying artists are working from home. Then later after graduating it is extremely hard to survive, and again there are few studio opportunities, which means that so many artists continue to work from their parental home. Art schools can act as laboratories where there is support and advice that feeds production. They can also teach the professional structure of living as an artist; but if this does not exist within education and artists rely on galleries for this information then a risky hierarchy is put in place.

NP: Another major factor to consider in this conversation is the lack of public funding for contemporary culture in Turkey and how this has affected the developing art scene. Unlike the existence of several Arab funded initiatives (The Arab Fund of Arts and The Young Arab Theatre Fund to name two), the system for channelling private philanthropy transparently, and with a clear channel of application and grant giving overseen by a board, has not yet been formalized in Turkey. This leads to the dilution of funds between many different spaces, people and potentials. Essentially there are many spaces claiming to be permanent and white-walled, but often without a financial plan that supports them beyond the first year or two.

CA: While I am suffering from a lack of structured institutions and funding, I am not willing to speak positively about over-formalising these things as while structured funding has its advantages, it creates a situation of support and control that pre-defines the nature of works, and to some extent even the content. It also generates in the long-run, as far as I can see from similar situations in different countries, a soft knowledge - a kind of language that grants access to these funds. Then, of course a lot of responsibility is not on whether you establish such funding bodies, but on how they are to be run. On another completely personal level, I always ask what it would mean, if we turn into document filling, box ticking funding applicants. A balance is required between the super-relaxed, unstructured, free-but-poor approach and one that is super-addressed, well funded, yet possibly involves an entropic loss of artistic validity.

NP: We should also consider issues of collecting, preserving, archiving and documentation; as well as critical response. With Facebook taking over the role of even the invitation, there is little physical material generated, and hence artists are sometimes showing their work in a void of any further mediation beyond the site-specific presentation within the gallery. Yet recently a number of institutions have started to publish; BAS, Yapi Kredi, Garanti Galeri and the larger museums, and others are rigorously archiving such as Platform Garanti, so is the problem more related more to critical response and a certain form of sharing of information?

CE: The lack of a local periodical, a form of Documents –which includes simple and clear records of who did what and where (in Istanbul and for Istanbul connected artists)- is one of the main problems. Even the most enthusiastic art related people often find it hard to follow each other's practices and projects. The Platform archives is one place you can find this information, but it is limited as it is a physical space, a room. The best thing that an artist can do to benefit their own position both locally and internationally is to launch a well organized and frequently updated personal website with the hope that people will follow your activities. The other or additional option, which happens in Turkey as a regular practice is to send group emails or Facebook events for each activity you undertake, which for me is a very aggressive way of sharing information.

LG: These conversations need to take place first in terms of sharing experiences and opinions in an ongoing manner so that the critique is first-hand. Forms of transactions that are not purely commercial can play a key role. Artists, writers, curators, gallerists, collectors, academics, students and viewers must play a collective role in establishing and sustaining dialogues, by organizing and attending seminars, panel discussions, by following blogs, by voicing opinions wherever and whenever possible. This is the only healthy way of creating, chewing and consuming art. And this is where Istanbul fails today still. As Turkey's recent history would tell us, people have lived through oppression, which has taught them to remain silent. Perhaps more than anything else, Istanbul needs participants who are not afraid to fall into and create conflict.

CA: A process of distillation needs to take place that could be through writing, critique and reviews that do not fall into a self-celebratory mode, to produce discussion about the work that is around. What remains from various hyped moments are the artists who continue to produce work of a high standard and the spaces that continue a vigorous program. In terms of hype, the new breed of commercial galleries and their fellow artist initiatives are not so distinct from one another; that is where critical writing can help in terms of homing in on the best examples of the definitions we have been struggling with.


1Platform Garanti 's space on Istiklal Caddesi (street) is currently undergoing a major renovation and the new institution will take a new name and direction that combines the former Platform with the activities of Garanti Galeri (a gallery that focused on design, architecture and urban planning) and the Ottoman Bank Museum, to create an approach that incorporates a variety of disciplines in addition to the presentation of contemporary art within its program.

2 Altay, Erek and Gediz were invited to participate in this conversation for particular reasons. Neither Altay nor Erek have presented a solo exhibition of their work in Turkey and yet their work has been shown widely internationally. As an additional note, they are both involved in other cultural disciplines at a professional level, these being architecture and music respectively. Gediz is represented by Galerist and has had many shows with the commercial gallery. Her interest in creating a space with an educational tone that she describes as one of 'supervision,' saw the inauguration of the gallery Splendid in 2008. Splendid closed in 2009.

3 For example, Oda Projesi opened in 2000 in an apartment in the Galata area of Istanbul, but the artist collective were evicted in 2005 due to the process of gentrification in this neighbourhood. Several commercial galleries that started less formally such as Galerist have gone on to open several spaces in the city with a very business-like approach.



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