Sislej Xhafa

The key is a symbol of trust as well as entry, and Sislej Xhafa’s first solo exhibition in Istanbul offers the possibility for viewers to own a new key—and perhaps a nocturnal adventure. Xhafa’s installation contains only a chair, a table, and a key duplicating machine along with the man who runs it. The rest of the gallery is empty, and all security equipment has been removed. For a minimal sum of twenty Turkish liras, a key from the cutter’s growing pile can be purchased, and with it comes the opportunity to access gallery NON at any time, day or night. NON Unplugged 2012 is a re-siting of Xhafa’s 2006 exhibition at Frankfurt’s Galerie Michael Neff. While that show occurred in a ground-floor space with a window and entry to the street, in Istanbul Xhafa’s intervention is located on the fourth floor of a private building. Hence, the team at NON and those who choose to use the key are dealing with a much more complex chain of trust relationships where exploits remain hidden until the morning after. In the first few days after the opening, a tube of mascara, installations made with orange tape, and empty beer bottles were found in the space. Next, a form of institutionalization reared its head, replacing spontaneity with rumors of structured happenings on the way: a birthday party, an exhibition of cat paintings. Xhafa’s interventions often explore current cultural paradigms and economic fluctuations by encouraging audiences to express their own desires within his work. Today, a thriving economy and a strong art scene are raging in Istanbul. Xhafa’s work plugs into this local hedonistic vibe but also reaches out to a wider public, inviting them to do with the gallery as they please, in the entertainment hub of the city.

Nevin Aladağ

The latest in Arter’s new commissioned series of solo exhibitions is Nevin Aladağ’s “Stage,” six installations, made of brightly colored artificial hair, that mimic the look of stage curtains. The works frame the walls of the space and offer multiple outlets—a crimson, fringed opera-style drape; maroon pigtails reminiscent of an amateur theater prop; and an azure blue clownish bob—to provide for a variety of potential performances and audiences. References to women’s hair coverings, cloths, or wigs are often a clichéd and complex topic in Turkey. But Aladağ sidesteps this debate by composing an eccentric and playful scene, where fake tresses (usually a substitute material for real hair) replace the fabric that both conceals and also opens upon dramatic performance. Concurrently, Aladağ is also exhibiting her work at Rampa. Here photographs, sculptures, and a video make evident Aladağ’s interest in performance as a structuring device for her output. Her physical works are not simply traces of performance, but interventions that result from or encourage action. A new piece produced for this show, Leaning Wall, 2012, is again an installation of colorful elements. Eighty-four ceramic body imprints in seven different pastel hues are hung across one length of the gallery and recall the holds of a climbing wall. Yet visitors are not invited to climb it; instead the more leisurely and sophisticated act of “leaning” is encouraged. Comical as it is to lean one’s face or shoulder into an imprint, there is more at issue here: With this work—as with the hair in “Stage”—Aladağ cleverly recomposes an existing bodily extension, in form and function, to draw the viewer into a curious play that is too enticing to refuse to be a part of.