PROTODISPATCH
A monthly digital publication of artists’ dispatches on the life conditions that necessitate their work.
19 ARALIK, 2024
19 ARALIK, 2024
ANOTHER KIND OF PASSPORT
Artist Gülsün Karamustafa and curator Alex Klein delve into the ways that geopolitical landscapes, political engagement, and artistic tools for resistance shaped some of the most formative years of Karamustafa's life.
Gülsün Karamustafa and Alex Klein
ในรูปแบบภาษาไทยโดย GroundControl
Türkçesi Argonotlar'da
In this conversation Gülsün Karamustafa and Alex Klein delve into the formative years of Karamustafa’s trajectory shaped by the geopolitical landscape, political engagement, and artistic tools for resistance. From the Iron Curtain confining her childhood in Turkey to reporting on the ground for BBC Radio in politically charged 1970s London, Karamustafa's experiences set the stage for her powerful artistic practice. Denied passports for 16 years, she and her husband found themselves imprisoned within Turkey, leading to a profound exploration of migration and adaptation in her art. The lifting of travel restrictions in 1986 marked a transformative period, enabling extensive global travel that influenced her work's evolution. From collaborative ventures in cinema to exhibitions worldwide, Karamustafa's art becomes a literal and metaphorical passport, fostering mutual exchange and solidarity across borders. Karamustafa shares her personal experiences, a down to earth life review, in advance of her exhibition in the Turkish Pavilion at the 60th edition of the Venice Art Biennale, itself a conundrum of the continuing contradictions of nationhood, intangible cultural heritage, and man-made borders.
Alex Klein: Gülsün, much of your work is made possible by the specific conditions of place with regard to resistance, restricted mobility, and migration. You are tapping into histories of displacement as well as geographical entrapment. Furthermore, you are communicating these circumstances to audiences both inside and outside of your native country, Turkey.
I’d like to begin by inviting you to reflect on an early moment in your career soon after you had graduated from art school in Istanbul, when you were working for BBC Radio, Turkish Section. You were living in London, reporting on things happening on the ground in Turkey, about the conditions at home, but through another country's radio broadcasting service. Speaking outside of the current political climate, I find this to be such a powerful image, and it sets the stage for an interesting tension that permeates your practice.
Gülsün Karamustafa: The Iron Curtain confined us in Turkey during the 1950s and 1960s. My entire childhood was experienced knowing that we are in a country which is behind a wall. Threats from our enemies, the Soviet Union, who were living close to and among us, kept us behind this curtain. We had to protect ourselves.
It was not easy for Turkish citizens to go to Europe at that time; we had to have permission from the state to travel abroad. I went to London in 1970 with my now husband. We were involved in activist movements in school, and we quickly got married to be able to travel together. There we encountered the London of The Beatles, Mary Quant, Twiggy, an absolutely flourishing and politically activated London. When we arrived there was the general strike to protest against repressive Tory legislation that restricted workers’ rights. We marched with the TUC, Trades Union Congress, to Trafalgar Square. That day an estimated 250,000 workers went on strike in London, and in all of Great Britain some 1.5 million joined, including postal workers. Many Vietnamese people were protesting, the Vietnam war was in its 16th year, dock workers joined the labor strike stopping cargo shipments that the U.S military was in need of. These local actions had global effects. We worked with a few feminist organizations, such as the March 8, 1971, Women's Liberation March, designing banners for them, helping in any way we could.
I was working at the BBC in London. Simultaneously, on March 1st, then 6th, and finally on the 12th, there was the military coup in Istanbul, which I had to announce, via the BBC Radio, from where I was physically, in London. That was a turning point for our lives. We came back to Turkey immediately, and in the beginning of May we were arrested for protecting a fugitive in our flat. My husband spent two and a half years in prison. I spent six months in prison, which was relatively nothing. The following fifteen years, until 1986, we were refused passports, effectively imprisoned in our country.
Gülsün Karamustafa: Communication was also suspended in time. There was no internet. We only had letter writing, sending small packages; the postal service was essential during these periods, until we had the fax. To know you're stuck in your country is one thing, yet to know you only have very small communication possibilities (not as we have now) is another thing. A friend in the States was sending us the Village Voice, that was our portal to culture elsewhere because here we had only local, government-controlled newspapers and television. Limited information sources forced us to look inward at a moment of internal migration. Due to economic hardships, masses of people from the countryside were migrating to urban centers. It was dramatically heavy and brought various new cultures, something colorful, inventive, and not welcomed. The racism was, and remains, heavy. I was focused on making art which was depicting adaptive lives in flux.
By 1988 I finally had a chance to make a solo show at the Library of the Middle East, Grenoble, to which I brought wall hangings and big carpets, carried in my backpack and suitcase. It was my first step into another territory.
Alex Klein: Gülsün, much of your work is made possible by the specific conditions of place with regard to resistance, restricted mobility, and migration. You are tapping into histories of displacement as well as geographical entrapment. Furthermore, you are communicating these circumstances to audiences both inside and outside of your native country, Turkey.
I’d like to begin by inviting you to reflect on an early moment in your career soon after you had graduated from art school in Istanbul, when you were working for BBC Radio, Turkish Section. You were living in London, reporting on things happening on the ground in Turkey, about the conditions at home, but through another country's radio broadcasting service. Speaking outside of the current political climate, I find this to be such a powerful image, and it sets the stage for an interesting tension that permeates your practice.
Gülsün Karamustafa: The Iron Curtain confined us in Turkey during the 1950s and 1960s. My entire childhood was experienced knowing that we are in a country which is behind a wall. Threats from our enemies, the Soviet Union, who were living close to and among us, kept us behind this curtain. We had to protect ourselves.
It was not easy for Turkish citizens to go to Europe at that time; we had to have permission from the state to travel abroad. I went to London in 1970 with my now husband. We were involved in activist movements in school, and we quickly got married to be able to travel together. There we encountered the London of The Beatles, Mary Quant, Twiggy, an absolutely flourishing and politically activated London. When we arrived there was the general strike to protest against repressive Tory legislation that restricted workers’ rights. We marched with the TUC, Trades Union Congress, to Trafalgar Square. That day an estimated 250,000 workers went on strike in London, and in all of Great Britain some 1.5 million joined, including postal workers. Many Vietnamese people were protesting, the Vietnam war was in its 16th year, dock workers joined the labor strike stopping cargo shipments that the U.S military was in need of. These local actions had global effects. We worked with a few feminist organizations, such as the March 8, 1971, Women's Liberation March, designing banners for them, helping in any way we could.
I was working at the BBC in London. Simultaneously, on March 1st, then 6th, and finally on the 12th, there was the military coup in Istanbul, which I had to announce, via the BBC Radio, from where I was physically, in London. That was a turning point for our lives. We came back to Turkey immediately, and in the beginning of May we were arrested for protecting a fugitive in our flat. My husband spent two and a half years in prison. I spent six months in prison, which was relatively nothing. The following fifteen years, until 1986, we were refused passports, effectively imprisoned in our country.
Alex Klein: Having your passport taken away from you curtails your rights as a citizen and symbolically means that your national identity is revoked in the eyes of the State. Your biography and your mobility, or lack thereof, raises questions about personal and collective imagination and memory. How did you navigate this during those years?
Gülsün Karamustafa: Communication was also suspended in time. There was no internet. We only had letter writing, sending small packages; the postal service was essential during these periods, until we had the fax. To know you're stuck in your country is one thing, yet to know you only have very small communication possibilities (not as we have now) is another thing. A friend in the States was sending us the Village Voice, that was our portal to culture elsewhere because here we had only local, government-controlled newspapers and television. Limited information sources forced us to look inward at a moment of internal migration. Due to economic hardships, masses of people from the countryside were migrating to urban centers. It was dramatically heavy and brought various new cultures, something colorful, inventive, and not welcomed. The racism was, and remains, heavy. I was focused on making art which was depicting adaptive lives in flux.
By 1988 I finally had a chance to make a solo show at the Library of the Middle East, Grenoble, to which I brought wall hangings and big carpets, carried in my backpack and suitcase. It was my first step into another territory.
Alex Klein: During this time, you began to incorporate more seductive colors and materials into your work. Why did this shift happen, and how do you distinguish it from your works in black and white? Within your use of color there is a sense that you are also coding, hiding things, or bringing people into something that is actually quite radical and political through something alluring.
Gülsün Karamustafa: As we know, colorful things are not always happy and we need to hide to survive, to protect ourselves. There are two sides to this, for example, in my video The City and the Secret Panther Fashion, 2007, the panther print used in fashion was populist and sexy then. Yet this is a dramatic work with real tension because domestic violence against women is terrifyingly prevalent in Turkey. In this video each woman arrives at a private apartment in drab common clothes. The moment these women cross the threshold from the street into this room they change their clothes into panther fashion and their moods shift into celebration. It's colorful, they are open with each other, there is joy. These women are each oppressed, they represent immigrants, poor people, minorities, and, simultaneously, ordinary city dwellers who are suppressed under the dominant male power. When this video ends all of these women change back into drab clothing and go back to their real lives. This is a literal use of the presence and absence of color. Leopard, or as I name it for my video film, “the secret panther fashion,” represents the high and low altogether. This print is still dominant in streets of Istanbul, in shanty towns as well as posh milieus, Dolce&Gabbana, Louis Vuitton, and so on. It is an eternal object of power and desire for women and men.
In another way, Memory of a Square, 2005, is a black-and-white film. When I finished editing it, I looked at the footage and I saw that I could have (metaphorically) been in every frame. It's black and white to even out perception of time periods; when you remember it, you remember it in your own day-to-day color. If you enlarge each image, you will find a person inside each group which could be the target for everything, forced to stay or to flee. It’s political again. It's my story. Footage of any family would fit here, again.
Alex Klein: You were both bound and unbound by your own national border. You had an opportunity to observe the migration of peoples from other regions and how it affected the fabric of your city. In some ways, 16 years of being unable to travel created the foundational roots for your practice from the Prison Paintings onwards. And the suitcase that you transported your artwork in is itself laden with metaphors of itinerancy and exile...
Gülsün Karamustafa: True. During that time it was not possible to support yourself making art here, so I went into cinema. I found work as an art director in the film industry and had the opportunity of joining another creative community.
Alex Klein: After having made work in relative isolation, did you enjoy working in this more collaborative context and having the chance to share it with a wider audience?
Gülsün Karamustafa: I loved it. This adventure led me to shooting a feature film named My Cinemas, 1990, for Füruzan, a celebrated novelist and friend, which was selected by the Cannes Film Festival’s Semaine de La Critique section and nominated for a Camera d’Or award. Because of these generative collaborations we were able to go to France. Following this, more invitations from film festivals arrived; later we went to Toronto, Tehran, and Cairo. This was a way of “pushing the curtain” back, pushing back the nightmare of our childhood. As this was all evolving, international communication improved and the growth of art biennials started. I was in the first, second, and third Istanbul biennials. Then René Block invited me to participate in his historic exhibition series, “Turkish Art Today” at IFA Gallery in Stuttgart in 1994, called İskele (Dock), which included Home is where you eat, a work consisting of three spoons. Turkey in the 1990’s was grave in terms of politics and an extremely depressed economy. A travel itinerary started for me to the Middle East and Europe, Asia, Tokyo, Kyoto, Saitama, Gwangju, Seoul, Taipei, Toronto, Montreal, New York, Minneapolis, Washington, Scandinavia, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, São Paulo. It was the exact opposite of the 50s and 60’s, breathless in another way.
Alex Klein: Which place was the most meaningful for you?
Gülsün Karamustafa: One of the important relationships that I had abroad was in the Balkans, where I have ancestors. My grandmother, an Ottoman Turk, was forced to migrate from Bulgaria to Turkey in 1893. After the opening of the Berlin Wall in 1989, and the Balkan War, Europe wanted to include the Balkan region as “Southeast Europe.” When you speak of the Balkans, of course you cannot exclude the tangled history of the Ottoman Empire and the Turkish Republic, with all their related complications. Exhibitions curated by Harald Szeemann and René Block furthered relationships between all the Balkan artists, which was interesting. Bosnia, Herzegovina, Serbia, Kosovo, Albania, Montenegro, Romania. We were facing our own histories.
Alex Klein: It’s amazing to hear how cinema becomes another kind of passport for you, quite literally. Could you reflect on whether you feel that your work changed from that break in 1986, when you started to be able to travel extensively? Before that moment, you were stationary within the borders of your country, and then suddenly you were traveling around the globe. Psychologically you must have been profoundly affected by those experiences. And to bring it back to our earlier exchange about broadcast, I'm curious if you found a shared understanding in these other communities that may have faced similar traumas. And on the flip side I wondered if you ever felt like the work was objectified or if it produced productive misreadings?
Gülsün Karamustafa: Yes, of course, being alone with your own topics for years and then opening up yourself to the world really gives you a strong, urgent need to communicate.
In your own country you are only able to look at and talk to yourself. Communication was also suspended in time. Showing my work and communicating with students through the workshops and seminars I made in different countries outside of Turkey gave me another dramatically different view: Because I was being seen as well as engaging with other audiences. I was giving them something, they were giving me something. I was feeding and being fed, which was an important give and take, a mutual-exchange.
When we and our artwork were brought together, from disparate places of the world, we found out that somehow we had mutual problems and thousands of different ways of looking at life. This created passageways between us, in which we understood each other and felt understood. Not only that, we found solidarities through our different kinds of volatile crises. It was clear that we were not alone. This was the highest gain.
Read Past Protodispatches here
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กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา และ ภัณฑารักษ์ อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์ ย้อนกลับไปสำรวจวิถีที่ภูมิทัศน์ทางทางภูมิรัฐศาสตร์ ปฏิสัมพันธ์ทางการเมือง และเครื่องมือทางศิลปะสำหรับการต่อต้าน ได้ก่อกำเนิดช่วงเวลาซึ่งถือเป็นหนึ่งในปีที่กลายมาเป็นรากฐานสำคัญที่สุดในชีวิตของคารามูสตาฟา
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา และ อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์
จากการใช้วัยเด็กในช่วงเวลาที่ตุรกีถูกคุมขังภายใต้นโยบาย ‘ม่านเหล็ก’ (Iron Curtain) จนถึงการได้รับหน้าที่เป็นผู้รายงานภาคสนามของสถานีวิทยุบีบีซีลอนดอนในช่วง 1990s ประสบการณ์ของคารามูสตาฟาได้กลายเป็นรากฐานสำคัญของปฏิบัติการทางศิลปะอันทรงพลังของเธอ การถูกปฏิเสธพาสปอร์ตเป็นเวลายาวนานถึง 16 ปี ทำให้เธอและสามีพบว่าตัวเองถูกจองจำอยู่ในตุรกี ซึ่งนำมาสู่การสำรวจและการอพยพครั้งสำคัญในการทำงานศิลปะของเธอ การได้รับอนุญาตให้เดินทางได้ในปี 1986 นำมาสู่ช่วงเวลาแห่งการเปลี่ยนแปลงครั้งสำคัญที่ทำให้เธอได้เดินทางไปทั่วโลก ซึ่งส่งอิทธิพลให้ต่อพัฒนาการในงานของเธอ ด้วยความร่วมมือทางการทำภาพยนตร์และการจัดนิทรรศการจากทั่วโลก ผลงานศิลปะของคารามูสตาฟาได้กลายเป็นทั้งพาสปอร์ตของจริงและพาสปอร์ตในทางเปรียบเปรย ก่อให้เกิดการแลกเปลี่ยนและการสร้างพันธมิตรข้ามพรมแดน ในบทสัมภาษณ์นี้ คารามูสตาฟาได้แบ่งปันประสบการณ์ส่วนตัวพร้อมย้อนกลับไปทบทวนชีวิต นิทรรศการของเธอที่จัดแสดงอยู่ที่พาวิลเลียนตุรกี ณ มหกรรมศิลปะเวนิสเบียนนาเล่ครั้งที่ 60 คือคำถามต่อความขัดแย้งในประเด็นเรื่องความเป็นชาติ มรดกทางวัฒนธรรมที่จับต้องไม่ได้ และพรมแดนที่สร้างขึ้นมาโดยมนุษย์
อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์: กูลซูน งานจำนวนมากของคุณสร้างขึ้นในเงื่อนไขเฉพาะของสถานที่ที่เกี่ยวพันกับการต่อต้าน การเคลื่อนย้ายที่ถูกจำกัด และการอพยพ คุณกำลังก้าวเข้าสู่ประวัติศาสตร์แห่งการพลัดถิ่น เช่นเดียวกับการกักล้อมทางภูมิศาสตร์ ยิ่งกว่านั้นคุณยังสื่อสารเรื่องราวเหล่านี้กับผู้ชมทั้งที่อยู่ในและนอกตุรกี ประเทศกำเนิดของคุณด้วจ
ฉันอยากเริ่มด้วยการชวนคุณย้อนกลับไปยังช่วงเวลาแรก ๆ ในเส้นทางอาชีพของคุณ หลังจากเรียนจบจากโรงเรียนศิลปะในอิสตันบูล ตอนที่คุณทำงานให้สถานีวิทยุบีบีซีของตุรกี คุณอาศัยอยู่ในลอนดอน คอยรายงานเกี่ยวกับสิ่งต่าง ๆ ที่เกิดขึ้นในตุรกี เกี่ยวกับสถานการณ์ที่บ้านที่คุณรับรู้มาจากวิทยุต่างประเทศ ฉันว่านี่เป็นภาพที่ทรงพลังมาก และมันเป็นแรงกดดันที่ปรากฏอย่างน่าสนใจในวิธีการทำงานของคุณ
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: ม่านเหล็กกักขังพวกเราในตุรกีในช่วงระหว่าง 1950s ถึง 1960s ฉันใช้เวลาช่วงวัยเด็กไปกับการรับรู้ว่าเราอยู่ในประเทศที่อยู่หลังกำแพง รับรู้ถึงภัยคุกคามจากศัตรูอย่างสหภาพโซเวียต ผู้อยู่ใกล้เรา และอยู่ท่ามกลางพวกเรา กักขังเราไว้หลังกำแพง และเราต้องปกป้องตัวเอง
มันไม่ง่ายเลยสำหรับคนตุรกีที่จะเดินทางไปยังยุโรปในตอนนั้น เราต้องได้รับอนุญาตจากรัฐก่อนที่จะไปต่างประเทศ ในปี 1970 ฉันเดินทางไปลอนดอนพร้อมกับคนที่กลายมาเป็นสามีของฉันในปัจจุบัน เราไปเข้าร่วมขบวนการของนักกิจกรรมในโรงเรียน แล้วก็แต่งงานกันในเวลาไม่นานเพื่อที่จะได้เดินทางด้วยกันได้ ที่นั่นเราได้สัมผัสกับลอนดอนในยุคที่ เดอะบีทเทิลส์, แมรี ควานท์ และ ทวิกกี กำลังเฟื่องฟู และเป็นลอนดอนที่เบ่งบานและตื่นตัวทางการเมืองมาก ๆ ตอนที่เราไปถึง มีการรวมตัวนัดหยุดงานครั้งใหญ่เพื่อประท้วงการออกกฎหมายกดขี่ของพวกทอรี (Tory กลุ่มอนุรักษนิยมในอังกฤษ) ที่ริดรอนสิทธิของคนทำงาน เราไปร่วมเดินขบวนกับ TUC ( Trades Union Congress สภาสหภาพแรงงาน) ที่จัตุรัสทราฟัลการ์ มีการคาดคะเนว่าในวันนั้น มีผู้ร่วมประท้วงหยุดงานในลอนดอนถึง 250,000 คน และอีก 1.5 ล้านคนจากทั่วสหราชอาณาจักร มีพนักงานไปรษณีย์ร่วมขบวน ชาวเวียดนามอีกหลายคนก็ร่วมประท้วงด้วย ตอนนั้นสงครามเวียดนามดำเนินมาถึงปีที่ 16 แล้ว คนทำงานที่ท่าเรือก็ร่วมกันหยุดงาน หยุดดำเนินการเรือขนส่งที่ทหารอเมริกาต้องการ ปฏิบัติการในท้องที่เหล่านี้ส่งผบกระทบในระดับโลก ตอนนั้นพวกเราก็กำลังทำงานกับองค์กรเฟมินิสต์หลายแห่ง อย่างงานเดินขบวนปลดแอกของผู้หญิงเมื่อวันที่ 8 มีนาคม 1971 เราก็ไปช่วยออกแบบแบนเนอร์ให้พวกเขา ช่วยเหลือในทุก ๆ ทางเท่าที่ทำได้
ตอนนั้นฉันทำงานอยู่ที่บีบีซีในกรุงลอนดอน แล้วในเวลาไร่เรียงกัน ตั้งแต่วันที่ 1 มีนาคม, 6 มีนาคม และสุดท้ายวันที่ 12 มีนาคม ก็มีการรัฐประหารในอิสตันบูล ซึ่งฉันต้องประกาศข่าวนั้นผ่านสถานีวิทยุบีบีซี โดยที่ตัวฉันอยู่ในลอนดอน นั่นคือจุดเปลี่ยนในชีวิตของเรา เราเดินทางกลับตุรกีทันที แล้วพอเข้าเดือนพฤษภาคม พวกเราก็ถูกจับข้อหาให้ที่หลบซ่อนแก่ผู้ลี้ภัยในแฟลตของเรา สามีของฉันใช้ชีวิตสองปีครึ่งในคุก ฉันเองก็ติดคุกอยู่หกเดือน ซึ่งก็เทียบอะไรไม่ได้เลยกับ 15 ปีหลังจากนั้น จนถึงปี 1986 เราจึงถูกยกเลิกพาสปอร์ต เป็นผลให้เราถูกกักขังอยู่ในประเทศตัวเอง
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: ย้อนกลับไปตอนนั้น การสื่อสารก็ถูกจำกันเช่นกัน ยุคนั้นเราไม่มีอินเทอร์เน็ต ได้แต่เขียนจดหมายหรือส่งพัสดุเล็ก ๆ เท่านั้น บริการไปรษณีย์เป็นสิ่งสำคัญมาก ๆ ในช่วงเวลานั้น จนกระทั่งเรามีแฟกซ์ใช้ การรูัว่าคุณกำลังติดอยู่ในประเทศของตัวมันก็เรื่องหนึ่ง แต่การรู้ว่าคุณมีหนทางสื่อสารอันแสนจำกัดนั้น (ไม่เท่ากับที่มีในตอนนี้) ก็เป็นอีกเรื่องหนึ่งเช่นกัน เพื่อนคนหนึ่งจากสหรัฐฯ ส่ง ‘Village Voice’ (นิตยารรายงานเรื่องราวทางวัฒนธรรมในนิวยอร์ก) มาให้เรา มันเป็นประตูที่พาเราออกไปสู่วัฒนธรรมในที่อื่น ๆ เพราะที่นั่นเรามีแค่หนังสือพิมพ์และรายการทีวีท้องถิ่นที่ถูกควบคุมโดยรัฐบาลไปหมดแล้ว การมีแหล่งข้อมูลข่าวสารที่จำกัดบังคับให้เราต้องหันมาใส่ใจการอพยพภายในประเทศที่เกิดขึ้นในช่วงเวลานั้น ด้วยปัญหาทางเศรษฐกิจ มวลผู้คนจากชนบทจึงอพยพเข้าสู่ใจกลางเมือง มันหนักหน่วงรุนแรงมาก และทำให้เกิดวัฒนธรรมใหม่ ๆ ขึ้นมากมาย มันเป็นอะไรที่ที่เปี่ยมด้วยสีสัน ความสร้างสรรค์ และไม่เป็นที่ต้อนรับเอาเสียเลย การเหยียดเชื้อชาติกลายเป็นปัญหารุนแรง และยังคงรุนแรงอยู่ ฉันจึงสนใจที่จะสร้างงานศิลปะที่บอกเล่าการปรับเปลี่ยนรูปแบบชีวิตให้เข้ากับช่วงเวลาแห่งการปะทะสังสรรค์นั้น
ในปี 1988 ฉันมีโอกาสได้ทำนิทรรศการเดี่ยวที่ห้องสมุดตะวันออกกลางแห่งเมืองเกรอนอบล์ ซึ่งฉันเอาพวกของตกแต่งผนังและพรมใหญ่ ๆ ใส่ไปในเป้และกระเป๋า นั่นคือก้าวแรกของฉันในการไปสู่พรมแดนอื่น
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: อย่างที่เรารู้กัน สิ่งที่สดใสไม่ได้สื่อถึงความสุขเสมอไป และเราเองก็ต้องหลบซ่อนเพื่อที่จะอยู่รอด เพื่อปกป้องตัวเอง มันมีสองด้านอยู่ในนี้ ตัวอย่างเช่น ในงานวิดีโอของฉันที่ชื่อ ‘The City and the Secret Panther Fashion’ (2007) ซึ่งนำเสนอลายเสือที่ใช้ในแวดวงแฟชั่น ซึ่งได้รับความนิยมและให้ความรู้สึกเซ็กซี่มาก ๆ แต่ในขณะเดียวกัน งานชิ้นนี้ก็มีความดราม่าสุด ๆ และพูดถึงประเด็นที่ตึงเครียดมาก ๆ เพราะมันว่าด้วยความรุนแรงที่กระทำต่อผู้หญิงในพื้นที่บ้าน ซึ่งเรายังคงเห็นภาพอันน่าสะพรึงกลัวนี้ได้ทั่วไปในตุรกี ในวิดีโอนี้ ผู้หญิงแต่ละคนมาถึงอะพาร์ตเมนต์ส่วนตัวแห่งนี้ในชุดธรรมดา ๆ ที่เห็นได้ทั่วไป แต่ทันทีที่ผู้หญิงเหล่านี้ก้าวข้ามจากพื้นที่ถนนมาสู่พื้นที่ในห้อง พวกเธอก็เปลี่ยนไปใส่เสื้อผ้าแฟชั่นลายเสือ และพวกเธอก็เปลี่ยนมู้ดไปสู่การเฉลิมฉลองรื่นเริง มันเป็นอะไรที่ฉูดฉาดสดใส พวกเธอเปิดกว้างให้แก่กันและกัน มันเต็มไปด้วยบรรยากาสของความสุข ผู้หญิงเหล่านี้ล้วนถูกกดทับ พวกเธอเป็นตัวแทนคนอพยพ คนจน คนกลุ่มน้อย และคนเมืองที่ถูกกดทับโดยอำนาจเหนือกว่าของเพศชายไปพร้อม ๆ กันด้วย เมื่อวิดีโอนี้จบลง ผู้หญิงเหล่านี้เปลี่ยนเสื้อผ้ากลับไปสู่ความจืดชืดเช่นเดิม แล้วกลับคืนสู่ชีวิตจริงของพวกเธอ งานชิ้นนี้คือการใช้การปรากฏและไม่ปรากฏของสีอย่างตรงไปตรงมา ลายเสือ หรือที่ฉันเรียกมันในภาพยนตร์ของฉันว่า ‘แฟชั่นลับลายพราง’ (The Secret Panther Fashion) แสดงให้เห็นถึงความสูงและความต่ำไปพร้อม ๆ กัน ลวดลายนี้ยังคงครองตลาดแฟชั่นบนท้องถนนเมืองอิสตันบูล ตั้งแต่เมืองกระต๊อบจนถึงย่านที่อยู่อาศัยหรูหรา เห็นได้ตั้งแต่ในแบรนด์อย่าง Dolce&Gabbana, Louis Vuitton ฯลฯ มันคือวัตถุที่สะท้อนอำนาจและความปรารถนาของผู้หญิงและผู้ชายได้อย่างไม่ล้าสมัย
ในอีกแง่หนึ่ง ผลงาน ‘Memory of a Square’ (2005) คือภาพยนตร์ขาวดำ เมื่อฉันตัดต่อเสร็จ ฉันมานั่งย้อนดูฟุตเทจแล้วก็พบว่า ตัวฉันสามารถไปจะดำรงอยู่ในทุก ๆ เฟรมได้เลย (ในทางเปรียบเปรย) มันถูกทำให้เป็นสีขาวดำเพื่อที่จะได้ปรับการรับรู้เกี่ยวกับช่วงเวลาให้เสมอกัน เมื่อคุณดูและจำช่วงเวลาเหล่านั้นได้ คุณก็จะเห็นภาพมันผ่านสีสันที่คุณเห็นอยู่ทุกเมื่อเชื่อวัน หากคุณลองขยายภาพดู คุณก็จะเห็นคนคนหนึ่งที่แทรกตัวอยู่ในแต่ละกลุ่ม ผู้ซึ่งสามารถเป็นเป้าหมายของทุกสิ่งได้ ไม่ว่าจะเป็นคนที่ถูกบังคับให้อยู่ในที่นี้ หรือถูกบังคับให้ย้ายออกไป มันเป็นเรื่องการเมืองอีกเช่นเคย มันคือเรื่องราวของฉัน ซึ่งฟุตเทจของครอบครัวไหน ๆ ก็สามารถนำมาทำงานนี้ได้เหมือนกัน
Gülsün Karamustafa, 'Motorcycle', fabric collage, 1986, Courtesy of the artist and BüroSarıgedik
อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์: คุณทั้งผูกพันและไม่ผูกพันกับพรมแดนแห่งชาติของคุณ คุณมีโอกาสที่จะสำรวจการย้ายถิ่นของผู้คนจากภูมิภาคอื่น ๆ และการที่ผลกระทบของมันส่งผลต่อสายใยที่ถักทออยู่ในสังคมของคุณได้อย่างไร ในอีกแง่หนึ่ง 16 ปีที่คุณไม่สามารถเดินทางไปที่ใด ๆ ได้ ยังกลายเป็นรากฐานสำหรับวิธีการทำงานของคุณ ตั้งแต่ ‘Prison Paintings’ เป็นต้นมา และกระเป๋าที่คุณใช้บรรจุผลงานเพื่อขนส่งไปยังที่ต่าง ๆ ก็เป็นแหล่งบรรจุอุปมาแห่งการเดินทางและการพลัดถิ่นไว้ด้วย…
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: ถูกต้องแล้ว ในช่วงเวลานั้น มันเป็นไปไม่ได้เลยที่จะดำรงชีวิตอยู่ที่นี่ด้วยการทำงานศิลปะ ฉันจึงหันไปหาภาพยนตร์ ฉันได้งานเป็นผู้กำกับศิลป์ในวงการหนังและได้มีโอกาสเข้าร่วมกับชุมชนสร้างสรรค์อื่น ๆ
Gülsün Karamustafa, 'Heimat Ist wo Mann', 1994, Courtesy of the artist and BüroSarıgedik
อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์: หลังจากทำงานอย่างโดดเดี่ยวมาโดยตลอด คุณสนุกกับการทำงานในบริบทที่ทำให้คุณได้ร่วมงานกับผู้อื่น และมีโอกาสได้แบ่งปันมันกับผู้ชมที่กว้างขึ้นหรือเปล่า
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: ฉันรักมันเลยล่ะ การผจญภัยนี้นำฉันไปสู่การถ่ายหนังยาวที่ชื่อ ‘My Cinemas’ (1990) สำหรับฟูรูซาน (Füruzan) นักเขียนนิยายชื่อดังและเพื่อนของฉัน ซึ่งได้รับคัดเลือกให้เข้าฉาบใยเทศกาลหนังเมืองคานส์สาย Semaine de La Critique และเข้าชิงรางวัลปาล์มทอง เพราะการทำงานร่วมกับผู้อื่นนี่ล่ะ เราถึงสามารถเดินทางไปฝรั่งเศสได้ ซึ่งหลังจากนั้น คำเชิญจากเทศกาลต่าง ๆ ก็เริ่มหลั่งไล่เข้ามา เราได้ไปโตรอนโต เตหะราน และไคโร นี่คือวิธีการ ‘แหวกม่านกลับ’ ของเรา และแหวกม่านแห่งฝันร้ายในวัยเด็กของเราไปพร้อม ๆ กัน ในระหว่างที่สิ่งเหล่านี้ดำเนินไปข้างหน้า การสื่อสารข้ามพรมแดนก็พัฒนาขึ้น และการเติบโตของเทศกาลศิลปะแบบเบียนนาเล่ก็เริ่มต้นขึ้น ฉันเข้าร่วมงานอิสตันบูลเบียนนาเล่ครั้งที่หนึ่ง สอง และสาม แล้ว เรอเน บล็อก (René Block) ก็เชิญฉันไปร่วมจัดแสดงผลงานในนิทรรศการชุดประวัติศาสตร์ของเขา “ศิลปะตุรกีวันนี้” (Turkish Art Today) ที่ IFA Gallery ในเมืองชตุทการ์ทปี 1994 นิทรรศการนั้นมีชื่อว่า ‘İskele’ (ท่าเรือ) ซึ่งมีงาน ‘Home is where you eat’ ที่ประกอบไปด้วยช้อนสามคันรวมอยู่ด้วย ตุรกีในช่วง 1990s ถูกฝังกลบอยู่ภายใต้ปัญหาทางการเมืองและเศรษฐกิจที่ตกต่ำอย่างรุนแรง นิทรรศการชุดนี้พาฉันออกเดินทางไปยังตะวันออกกลางและยุโรป, เอเชีย, โตเกียว, เกียวโต, ไซตามะ, กวางจู, โซล, ไทเป, โตรอนโต, มอนทรีออล, นิวยอร์ก, มินนีแอโพลิส, วอชิงตัน, สแกนดิเนเวีย, สวีเดน, นอร์เวย์, เดนมาร์ก, เซาเปาโล มันตรงกันข้ามเลยกับช่วง 50s และ 60s ในแง่หนึ่งมันทำเอาฉันหายใจไม่ทันเลย
Gülsün Karamustafa, 'Memory of a Square', two channel video, 2005, Courtesy of the artist and BüroSarıgedik
อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์: สถานที่ไหนมีความหมายสำหรับคุณมากที่สุด
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: หนึ่งในความสัมพันธ์สำคัญที่ฉันได้จากต่างแดนคือที่บอลข่าน ที่ซึ่งเป็นบ้านเกิดของบรรพบุรุษของฉัน ยายของฉันเป็นชาวออตโตมันเติร์ก ถูกบังคับให้อพยพจากบัลเกเรียไปยังตุรกีในปี 1893 หลังการทลายกำแพงเบอร์ลินในปี 1989 และสงครามบอลข่าน ยุโรปต้องการที่จะนับภูมิภาคบอลข่านเข้าเป็น “ยุโรปตะวันออกเฉียงใต้” เมื่อคุณพูดถึงบอลข่าน แน่นอนว่าคุณไม่สามารถตัดประวัติศาสตร์ที่พัวพันของจักรวรรดิออตโตมันและสาธารณรัฐตุรกีกับความยุ่งเหยิงที่เกี่ยวข้องทั้งหมดได้ นิทรรศการที่ ฮารัลด์ ชีมาน (Harald Szeemann) และ เรอเน บล็อก เป็นภัณฑารักษ์ ยิ่งช่วยกระชับความสัมพันธ์ระหว่างศิลปินบอลข่านด้วยกันเอง ซึ่งน่าสนใจมาก บอสเนีย เฮอร์เซโกวีนา เซอร์เบีย โคโซโว อัลบาเนีย มอนเตเนโกร โรมาเนีย เราต่างก็กำลังเผชิญหน้ากับประวัติศาสตร์ของตัวเอง
อเล็กซ์ ไคลน์: มันมหัศจรรย์มากที่ได้ยินว่าภาพยนตร์ได้กลายเป็นพาสปอร์ตอีกรูปแบบหนึ่งสำหรับคุณ แบบจริง ๆ เลย คุณพอจะสะท้อนความรู้สึกของการที่ผลงานของคุณมาถึงจุดเปลี่ยนในปี 1986 เมื่อคุณเริ่มเดินทางมากขึ้นได้มั้ย? ก่อนหน้านั้นคุณอยู่กับที่ภายในพรมแดนของคุณ แล้วอยู่ดี ๆ ก็ได้ท่องไปทั่วโลก ในแง่ของจิตใจ คุณคงได้รับผลกระทบอย่างรุนแรงจากประสบการณ์นั้น และเพื่อที่จะโยงกลับไปเรื่องการกระจายเสียงที่เราคุยกันก่อนหน้า ฉันสงสัยว่าคุณได้พบความเข้าใจร่วมที่คุณแชร์กับชุมชนอื่น ๆ ซึ่งอาจพบกับประสบการณ์บาดแผลเหมือนกันบ้างไหม? และในทางกลับกัน ฉันสงสัยว่าคุณเคยรู้สึกเหมือนกับว่าผลงานถูกทำให้เป็นวัตถุหรือมันผลิตความเข้าใจผิด ๆ ออกมาบ้างไหม?
กูลซูน คารามูสตาฟา: ใช่เลย แน่นอนอยู่แล้ว การอยู่ตัวคนเดียวโดยที่ต้องอยู่แต่กับเรื่องของตัวเองเป็นปี ๆ แล้วอยู่ดี ๆ ก็ต้องเปิดตัวรับโลก มันทำให้คุณเกิดความต้องการที่จะสื่อสารเชื่อมต่อกับคนอื่น ๆ อย่างรุนแรงเลยล่ะ
ในประเทศของคุณ คุณทำได้แค่มองและพูดคุยกับตัวเอง ย้อนกลับไปในตอนนั้น การสื่อสารยังคงถูกจำกัด การนำงานของฉันออกไปโชว์และได้สื่อสารกับนักศึกษาผ่านเวิร์กชอปและสัมมนาในประเทศต่าง ๆ นอกตุรกีทำให้ฉันได้รับมุมมองที่ต่างออกไปโดยสิ้นเชิง เพราะฉันถูกเห็น และในขณะเดียวกันก็ได้มีปฏิสัมพันธ์กับผู้ชมคนอื่น ๆ ฉันได้มอบบางอย่างให้พวกเขา และพวกเขาก็ได้มอบบางอย่างแก่ฉันเช่นกัน ฉันป้อนและก็ถูกป้อน ซึ่งก็เป็นการให้และรับที่สำคัญ เป็นการแลกเปลี่ยนที่เท่าเทียมกัน
เมื่อเราและงานของพวกเราถูกรวมเข้าด้วยกันจากพื้นที่ต่าง ๆ ทั่วโลก เรากลับได้พบว่า เราต่างก็เผชิญหน้ากับปัญหาแบบเดียวกัน และมันมีเป็นพันวิธีที่เราสามารถใช้ในการมองชีวิต สิ่งนี้ได้สร้างสะพานร่วมแก่เรา ทำให้เราเข้าใจและได้รับความเข้าใจในกันและกัน ไม่ใช่แค่นั้น ปัญหาต่าง ๆ หลากหลายที่ปะทุขึ้นมา ยังได้สร้างภราดรภาพในหมู่พวกเรา มันชัดเจนเลยว่าเราไม่ได้อยู่ลำพัง และนั่นคือวิธีที่เราต่างเป็นฝ่าย ‘ได้’
(บทความนี้เป็นส่วนหนึ่งของการร่วมมือระหว่าง GroundControl และพันธมิตรสื่อทางศิลปะ Protocinema ผู้เผยแพร่สื่อดิจิทัลด้านศิลปะรายเดือน เพื่อนำเสนอมุมมองของศิลปินที่มีต่อสังคมร่วมสมัย การเมือง วัฒนธรรม สิ่งแวดล้อม และเศรษฐกิจ โดยดำเนินการผ่าน Protodispatch ผู้เป็นตัวกลางเผยแพร่ข่าวสารประจำเดือนให้แก่พันธมิตรในเครือ โดย GroundControl ได้รับเกียรติให้เป็นพันธมิตรสื่อเพื่อเผยแพร่บทความในภาษาไทย ร่วมกับ Argonotlar.com จากอิสตันบูล เพื่อร่วมกันสร้างโครงข่ายของระบบนิเวศน์ทางศิลปะที่เข้มแข็ง และเพื่อให้ผู้สนใจศิลปะชาวไทยสามารถเข้าถึงได้โดยปราศจากกำแพงด้านภาษา)
Read Past Protodispatches here
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TÜRKÇE
Başka türlü bir pasaport
Sanatçı Gülsün Karamustafa ve küratör Alex Klein, jeopolitik manzaraların, siyasi etkileşimin ve direnişe ilişkin sanatsal araçların Karamustafa’nın yaşamının en gelişimsel yıllarını nasıl şekillendirdiğine odaklanıyor.
Bu sohbette Gülsün Karamustafa ve Alex Klein, Karamustafa’nın jeopolitik manzara, siyasi etkileşim ve direnişe ilişkin sanatsal araçlar tarafından şekillenen yolculuğunun gelişim yıllarına odaklanıyor. Türkiye’deki çocukluk yıllarını etkisi altına alan Demir Perde döneminden 1970’lerin yoğun siyasi Londra’sında BBC Radyosu için yaptığı haberciliğe uzanan deneyimleri, Karamustafa’nın güçlü sanatsal pratiğine zemin hazırladı. Kendisine ve eşine 16 yıl boyunca pasaport verilmemesi sonucu bir nevi Türkiye’de hapsedilmiş olmaları, onun sanatında göç ve adaptasyon meselelerin derinlemesine bir yer edinmesine yol açtı. 1986’da seyahat kısıtlamalarının kaldırılması, çalışmalarının gelişimini etkileyen geniş çaplı küresel seyahatleri mümkün kılan dönüştürücü bir dönemin başlangıcı oldu. Karamustafa’nın sanatı, sinemadaki ortak girişimlerden dünya çapındaki sergilere kadar, sınırların ötesinde karşılıklı alışverişi ve dayanışmayı teşvik eden gerçek ve mecazi bir pasaport halini alıyor. Karamustafa, bu yıl 60.’sı gerçekleştirilecek olan ve ulus olma, somut olmayan kültürel miras ve insan yapımı sınırların süregelen çelişkileri konularında kendisinin de bir muamma sayıldığı Venedik Sanat Bienali kapsamında Türkiye Pavyonu’nda yer alacak sergisi öncesinde kişisel deneyimlerini, ayakları yere basan bir yaşam eleştirisi olarak bizimle paylaşıyor.
Alex Klein: Gülsün, çalışmalarının çoğunu, direniş, kısıtlı hareketlilik ve göç bakımından mekânın kendine özgü koşulları mümkün kılıyor. Coğrafi sıkışmışlığın yanı sıra yerinden edilmenin tarihine de dokunuyorsun. Üstelik bu durumları kendi ülken olan Türkiye’nin hem içindeki hem de dışındaki izleyicilere aktarıyorsun.
Seni, kariyerinin erken döneminlerini, İstanbul’da sanat okulundan mezun olduktan hemen sonra BBC Radyosu Türkçe Bölümü’nde çalışırkenki zamanlarını düşünmeye davet ederek başlamak istiyorum. Londra’da yaşıyordun ve Türkiye’de olup bitenleri, ülkedeki koşulları haberleştiriyordun, ama başka bir ülkenin radyo yayıncılığı aracılığıyla. Mevcut siyasi iklimin dışında konuşacak olursak, bunu çok güçlü bir imge olarak görüyorum ve bu durum pratiğine nüfuz eden ilginç bir gerilime zemin hazırlıyor.
Gülsün Karamustafa: Demir Perde 1950’ler ve 1960’lar boyunca bizi Türkiye’ye hapsetti. Tüm çocukluğum duvarın ardındaki bir ülkede olduğumuzu bilerek geçti. Bize yakın ve aramızda yaşayan düşmanımız Sovyetler Birliği’nden gelen tehditler bizi bu perdenin arkasında tuttu. Kendimizi korumak zorundaydık.
O dönemde Türk vatandaşlarının Avrupa’ya gitmesi kolay değildi; yurtdışına seyahat etmek için devletten izin almamız gerekiyordu. 1970 yılında şimdiki kocamla birlikte Londra’ya gittim. Okuldaki aktivist hareketlere dahil olduk ve birlikte seyahat edebilmek için çabucak evlendik. Orada The Beatles’ın, Mary Quant’ın, Twiggy’nin Londra’sı ile karşılaştık, kesinlikle gelişen ve siyasi olarak aktif bir Londra’yla. Biz geldiğimizde, işçi haklarını kısıtlayan baskıcı Tory yasalarını protesto etmek için genel grev vardı. TUC (İşçi Sendikaları Kongresi) ile birlikte Trafalgar Meydanı’na yürüdük. O gün Londra’da yaklaşık 250.000 işçi greve gitti ve posta işçileri de dahil olmak üzere Büyük Britanya’nın tamamında yaklaşık 1,5 milyon kişi greve katıldı. Birçok Vietnamlı protesto gösterileri yapıyordu, Vietnam savaşı 16. yılındaydı, liman işçileri greve katılarak ABD ordusunun ihtiyaç duyduğu kargo sevkiyatını durdurdu. Yereldeki bu eylemlerin küresel çapta etkileri oldu. Feminist örgütlerle çalıştık, örneğin 8 Mart 1971 Kadın Özgürlük Yürüyüşü’nde onlar için pankartlar tasarladık, elimizden geldiğince yardımcı olduk.
Ben Londra’da BBC’de çalışıyordum. 6 Mart’taki hareketlilikten sonra 12 Mart’ta Türkiye’de askeri darbe oldu. Ben ise bu gelişmeleri bulunduğum yerden, yani Londra’dan, BBC Radyo aracılığıyla duyurmak zorunda kaldım. Bu hayatımız için bir dönüm noktası oldu. Kısa süre sonra Türkiye’ye döndük ve mayıs ayının başında evimizde kaçak birini koruduğumuz gerekçesiyle tutuklandık. Kocam iki buçuk yıl hapis yattı. Ben altı ay hapiste kaldım, ki bu nispeten hiçbir şeydi. Takip eden on beş yıl, 1986 yılına kadar bize pasaport vermediler ve ülkemizde fiilen hapsedildik.
Hapishane Resimleri 6, 1972. Kağıt üzerine karışık teknik, 56 x 52.5 cm. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik’in izniyle
G. K.: Şunu da hesaba katmak gerek, sadece hareketliliğin kısıtlanması da değil, o günlerde iletişim de teknik olarak zordu. İnternetin olmadığı zamanlar. Sadece mektup yazıyorduk, küçük paketler gönderiyorduk. Haberleşmek yavaş ve meşakkatli idi. Bu dönemlerde posta hizmeti çok önemliydi, ta ki bir faksımız olana kadar. Ülkenizde sıkışıp kaldığınızı bilmek bir şeydir, ancak yalnızca çok küçük iletişim olanaklarına sahip olduğunuzu bilmek (şu anda sahip olduğumuz gibi değil) başka bir şeydir. Amerika’daki bir arkadaşımız bize Village Voice‘u gönderiyordu, bu bizim başka yerlerdeki kültüre açılan kapımızdı çünkü burada sadece yerel, hükümet kontrolündeki gazeteler ve televizyon vardı. Sınırlı bilgi kaynakları bizi iç göçün yaşandığı bir dönemde içe bakmaya zorladı. Ekonomik zorluklar nedeniyle kırsal kesimden büyük kitleler şehir merkezlerine göç ediyordu. Duygusal anlamda ağır bir süreçti ve beraberinde renkli, yaratıcı ama pek de hoş karşılanmayan çeşitli yeni kültürleri de getirmiş oldu. O zaman da şimdi olduğu gibi ayrımcılık yoğundu. Dönüşerek uyumlanan bu yaşamları tasvir eden bir sanat yapmaya odaklanmıştım.
1988’de nihayet Grenoble’daki Orta Doğu Kütüphanesi’nde kişisel bir sergi yapma şansı buldum ve sergiye sırt çantamda ve valizimde taşıdığım duvar süsleri ve büyük halılar getirdim. Bu benim uzun süreden sonra başka topraklara attığım ilk adımdı.
Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası, 2007. Tek kanallı senkronize video, sesli. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik’in izniyle
Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası, 2007. Tek kanallı senkronize video, sesli. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik'in izniyle
Bu sohbette Gülsün Karamustafa ve Alex Klein, Karamustafa’nın jeopolitik manzara, siyasi etkileşim ve direnişe ilişkin sanatsal araçlar tarafından şekillenen yolculuğunun gelişim yıllarına odaklanıyor. Türkiye’deki çocukluk yıllarını etkisi altına alan Demir Perde döneminden 1970’lerin yoğun siyasi Londra’sında BBC Radyosu için yaptığı haberciliğe uzanan deneyimleri, Karamustafa’nın güçlü sanatsal pratiğine zemin hazırladı. Kendisine ve eşine 16 yıl boyunca pasaport verilmemesi sonucu bir nevi Türkiye’de hapsedilmiş olmaları, onun sanatında göç ve adaptasyon meselelerin derinlemesine bir yer edinmesine yol açtı. 1986’da seyahat kısıtlamalarının kaldırılması, çalışmalarının gelişimini etkileyen geniş çaplı küresel seyahatleri mümkün kılan dönüştürücü bir dönemin başlangıcı oldu. Karamustafa’nın sanatı, sinemadaki ortak girişimlerden dünya çapındaki sergilere kadar, sınırların ötesinde karşılıklı alışverişi ve dayanışmayı teşvik eden gerçek ve mecazi bir pasaport halini alıyor. Karamustafa, bu yıl 60.’sı gerçekleştirilecek olan ve ulus olma, somut olmayan kültürel miras ve insan yapımı sınırların süregelen çelişkileri konularında kendisinin de bir muamma sayıldığı Venedik Sanat Bienali kapsamında Türkiye Pavyonu’nda yer alacak sergisi öncesinde kişisel deneyimlerini, ayakları yere basan bir yaşam eleştirisi olarak bizimle paylaşıyor.
Alex Klein: Gülsün, çalışmalarının çoğunu, direniş, kısıtlı hareketlilik ve göç bakımından mekânın kendine özgü koşulları mümkün kılıyor. Coğrafi sıkışmışlığın yanı sıra yerinden edilmenin tarihine de dokunuyorsun. Üstelik bu durumları kendi ülken olan Türkiye’nin hem içindeki hem de dışındaki izleyicilere aktarıyorsun.
Seni, kariyerinin erken döneminlerini, İstanbul’da sanat okulundan mezun olduktan hemen sonra BBC Radyosu Türkçe Bölümü’nde çalışırkenki zamanlarını düşünmeye davet ederek başlamak istiyorum. Londra’da yaşıyordun ve Türkiye’de olup bitenleri, ülkedeki koşulları haberleştiriyordun, ama başka bir ülkenin radyo yayıncılığı aracılığıyla. Mevcut siyasi iklimin dışında konuşacak olursak, bunu çok güçlü bir imge olarak görüyorum ve bu durum pratiğine nüfuz eden ilginç bir gerilime zemin hazırlıyor.
Gülsün Karamustafa: Demir Perde 1950’ler ve 1960’lar boyunca bizi Türkiye’ye hapsetti. Tüm çocukluğum duvarın ardındaki bir ülkede olduğumuzu bilerek geçti. Bize yakın ve aramızda yaşayan düşmanımız Sovyetler Birliği’nden gelen tehditler bizi bu perdenin arkasında tuttu. Kendimizi korumak zorundaydık.
O dönemde Türk vatandaşlarının Avrupa’ya gitmesi kolay değildi; yurtdışına seyahat etmek için devletten izin almamız gerekiyordu. 1970 yılında şimdiki kocamla birlikte Londra’ya gittim. Okuldaki aktivist hareketlere dahil olduk ve birlikte seyahat edebilmek için çabucak evlendik. Orada The Beatles’ın, Mary Quant’ın, Twiggy’nin Londra’sı ile karşılaştık, kesinlikle gelişen ve siyasi olarak aktif bir Londra’yla. Biz geldiğimizde, işçi haklarını kısıtlayan baskıcı Tory yasalarını protesto etmek için genel grev vardı. TUC (İşçi Sendikaları Kongresi) ile birlikte Trafalgar Meydanı’na yürüdük. O gün Londra’da yaklaşık 250.000 işçi greve gitti ve posta işçileri de dahil olmak üzere Büyük Britanya’nın tamamında yaklaşık 1,5 milyon kişi greve katıldı. Birçok Vietnamlı protesto gösterileri yapıyordu, Vietnam savaşı 16. yılındaydı, liman işçileri greve katılarak ABD ordusunun ihtiyaç duyduğu kargo sevkiyatını durdurdu. Yereldeki bu eylemlerin küresel çapta etkileri oldu. Feminist örgütlerle çalıştık, örneğin 8 Mart 1971 Kadın Özgürlük Yürüyüşü’nde onlar için pankartlar tasarladık, elimizden geldiğince yardımcı olduk.
Ben Londra’da BBC’de çalışıyordum. 6 Mart’taki hareketlilikten sonra 12 Mart’ta Türkiye’de askeri darbe oldu. Ben ise bu gelişmeleri bulunduğum yerden, yani Londra’dan, BBC Radyo aracılığıyla duyurmak zorunda kaldım. Bu hayatımız için bir dönüm noktası oldu. Kısa süre sonra Türkiye’ye döndük ve mayıs ayının başında evimizde kaçak birini koruduğumuz gerekçesiyle tutuklandık. Kocam iki buçuk yıl hapis yattı. Ben altı ay hapiste kaldım, ki bu nispeten hiçbir şeydi. Takip eden on beş yıl, 1986 yılına kadar bize pasaport vermediler ve ülkemizde fiilen hapsedildik.
Hapishane Resimleri 6, 1972. Kağıt üzerine karışık teknik, 56 x 52.5 cm. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik’in izniyle
A.K.: Pasaportunuzun elinizden alınması vatandaş olarak haklarınızın kısıtlandığı ve sembolik olarak ulusal kimliğinizin Devlet nezdinde iptal edildiği anlamına geliyor. Biyografiniz ve hareketliliğiniz veya bunların olmayışı, kişisel ve kolektif hayal gücü ve hafızayla ilgili soruları gündeme getiriyor. O yıllarda bu konuda nasıl bir yol izlediniz?
G. K.: Şunu da hesaba katmak gerek, sadece hareketliliğin kısıtlanması da değil, o günlerde iletişim de teknik olarak zordu. İnternetin olmadığı zamanlar. Sadece mektup yazıyorduk, küçük paketler gönderiyorduk. Haberleşmek yavaş ve meşakkatli idi. Bu dönemlerde posta hizmeti çok önemliydi, ta ki bir faksımız olana kadar. Ülkenizde sıkışıp kaldığınızı bilmek bir şeydir, ancak yalnızca çok küçük iletişim olanaklarına sahip olduğunuzu bilmek (şu anda sahip olduğumuz gibi değil) başka bir şeydir. Amerika’daki bir arkadaşımız bize Village Voice‘u gönderiyordu, bu bizim başka yerlerdeki kültüre açılan kapımızdı çünkü burada sadece yerel, hükümet kontrolündeki gazeteler ve televizyon vardı. Sınırlı bilgi kaynakları bizi iç göçün yaşandığı bir dönemde içe bakmaya zorladı. Ekonomik zorluklar nedeniyle kırsal kesimden büyük kitleler şehir merkezlerine göç ediyordu. Duygusal anlamda ağır bir süreçti ve beraberinde renkli, yaratıcı ama pek de hoş karşılanmayan çeşitli yeni kültürleri de getirmiş oldu. O zaman da şimdi olduğu gibi ayrımcılık yoğundu. Dönüşerek uyumlanan bu yaşamları tasvir eden bir sanat yapmaya odaklanmıştım.
1988’de nihayet Grenoble’daki Orta Doğu Kütüphanesi’nde kişisel bir sergi yapma şansı buldum ve sergiye sırt çantamda ve valizimde taşıdığım duvar süsleri ve büyük halılar getirdim. Bu benim uzun süreden sonra başka topraklara attığım ilk adımdı.
Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası, 2007. Tek kanallı senkronize video, sesli. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik’in izniyle
A.K.: Bu süre zarfında işlerine daha göz alıcı renkler ve malzemeler dahil etmeye başladın. Bu değişim neden oldu ve bu dönemi siyah beyaz işlerinden nasıl ayırıyorsun? Bir taraftan da bu çekici renk kullanımlarıyla birşeyleri alenen göstermek yerine bazı kodlamalar üzerinden insanların dikkatini daha radikal ve politik olana doğru çekmek istediğin hissi de var.
G.K.: Bildiğimiz gibi renkli şeyler her zaman mutlu değildir ve hayatta kalmak, kendimizi korumak için saklanmamız gerekir. Bunun iki yüzü var, mesela 2007 tarihli Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası videomdaki panter deseni zamanında moda sektöründe de kullanılan popülist ve seksi bir şeydi. Fakat bu aslında gerçek bir gerilime sahip dramatik bir çalışma, çünkü Türkiye’de kadına yönelik aile içi şiddet korkunç derecede yaygın. Videodaki kadınlar sıradan sıkıcı kıyafetlerle bir eve geliyorlar. Sokaktan gelip de o eşikten içeriye adımlarını attıktan sonra kıyafetlerini panter modasına uygun olarak değiştiriyorlar ve ruh halleri de birden kutlama yapıyorlarmış gibi bir hale dönüşüyor. Rengârenk bir ortam, kadınlar birbirleriyle iletişim halinde eğleniyorlar. Bu kadınların hepsi de eziliyor aslında, onların her biri göçmenleri, yoksulları, azınlıkları ve aynı zamanda egemen erkek iktidarı altında ezilen sıradan şehirli kadınları temsil ediyorlar. Video sona erdiğinde tüm bu kadınlar tekrar sıkıcı kıyafetlerini giyip gerçek hayatlarına geri dönüyorlar. Rengin varlığı ve yokluğunun edebi bir kullanımı söz konusu. Leopar ya da video filmimde isimlendirdiğim şekliyle “gizli panter modası”, yüksek ve alçak olanı bir arada temsil ediyor. Bu desen şu an bile İstanbul sokaklarında, gecekondu mahallelerinde ya da lüks çevrelerde, Dolce&Gabbana, Louis Vuitton gibi yerlerde hâlâ hâkimiyetini sürdürüyor. Kadınlar ve erkekler için ebedi bir güç ve arzu nesnesi.
Diğer taraftan, 2005 tarihli Meydanın Belleği ise siyah beyaz bir film. Kurguyu bitirdiğimde görüntülere baktım ve (mecazi anlamda) her karede yer alabileceğimi gördüm. Zaman dilimlerinin algısını eşitlemek için siyah ve beyaz; bir şeyi hatırladığınızda, onu kendi gündelik hayatınızın rengiye hatırlarsınız. Her bir resmi büyüttüğünüzde, her grubun içinde her şeyin hedefi olabilecek, kalmaya ya da kaçmaya zorlanmış bir kişi bulursunuz. Bu da politik bir şey. Bu benim hikâyem. Ama herhangi bir ailenin görüntüleri de aynı şekilde buraya uyardı.
A.K.: Kendi ulusal sınırlarına hem bağlı hem de bağlı değildin. Halkların başka bölgelerden göç edişini ve bunun kendi şehrinin dokusunu nasıl etkilediğini gözlemleme fırsatın oldu. 16 yıl boyunca seyahat edememek, bir bakıma Hapishane Resimleri‘yle başlayan süreçte çalışmalarının temelini oluşturdu. Sanat eserlerini taşıdığın valizin kendisi de seyyahlık ve sürgün metaforlarıyla dolu…
G. K.: Doğru. O dönemde burada sanat yaparak geçinmek mümkün değildi, ben de sinema sektörüne girdim. Film endüstrisinde sanat yönetmeni olarak iş buldum ve başka bir yaratıcı topluluğa katılma fırsatı yakaladım.
A.K.: Nispeten izole bir şekilde çalıştıktan sonra, bu daha işbirlikçi bağlamda çalışmaktan ve bunu daha geniş bir kitleyle paylaşma şansına sahip olmaktan keyif aldın mı?
G. K.: Çok sevdim. Bu serüven beni ünlü romancı ve dostum Füruzan ile uzun metrajlı bir film çekmeye kadar götürdü. Benim Sinemalarım 1990 yılında Cannes Film Festivali’nin Semaine de La Critique bölümüne seçildi ve Camera d’Or ödülüne aday gösterildi. Bu üretken işbirlikleri sayesinde Fransa’ya gitme şansımız oldu. Sonrasında farklı film festivallerinden de davetler geldi; Toronto, Tahran ve Kahire’ye de gittik. Çocukluk kabusumuzu üzerimizden atmanın, o “perdeyi” üzerimizden silkmenin bir yolu oldu. Bir taraftan tüm bu süreçler ilerlemeye devam ederken, diğer taraftan da uluslararası iletişim gelişiyordu ve sanat bienalleri de büyümeye başlıyordu. Birinci, ikinci ve üçüncü İstanbul Bienalleri’nde yer aldım. Ardından René Block kendisinin tarihi sergi serisi kapsamında beni 1994 yılında Stuttgart’taki IFA Galerisi’ndeki İskele (Turkish Art Today) isimli sergisine katılmaya davet etti, ben de üç kaşığın yer aldığı işim Vatan Doğduğun Değil Doyduğun Yerdir ile projeye dahil oldum. 1990’lı yılların Türkiye’si siyasi açıdan vahim, ekonomi açısından ise son derece sıkıntılı bir durumdaydı. Benim için Orta Doğu, Avrupa ve Asya, Tokyo, Kyoto, Saitama, Gwangju, Seul, Taipei, Toronto, Montreal, New York, Minneapolis, Washington, İskandinavya, İsveç, Norveç, Danimarka, Sao Paulo’ya seyahatler yaptığım bir dönem başlamış oldu. 50’li ve 60’lı yılların tam tersiydi, bu sefer de başka türlü nefes kesici bir süreç oldu.
A. K.: Sizin için en anlamlı yer hangisiydi?
G. K.: Yurtdışında kurduğum önemli ilişkilerden biri de atalarımın yaşadığı Balkanlar’da oldu. Bir Osmanlı Türk’ü olan büyükannem, 1893’te Bulgaristan’dan Türkiye’ye göç etmek zorunda kaldı. 1989 yılında Berlin Duvarı’nın yıkılması ve Balkan Savaşı’nın ardından Avrupa, Balkan bölgesini “Güneydoğu Avrupa” kapsamına almak istedi. Balkanlar’dan bahsederken elbette Osmanlı İmparatorluğu ve Türkiye Cumhuriyeti’nin karmaşık tarihini ve bunlara bağlı olarak ortaya çıkan tüm o komplikasyonları göz ardı edemezsiniz. Harald Szeemann ve René Block’un küratörlüğünü yaptığı sergiler, tüm Balkan sanatçıları arasındaki ilişkileri daha da ileriye taşıdı. Bosna Hersek, Sırbistan, Kosova, Arnavutluk, Karadağ, Romanya. Kendi tarihlerimizle yüzleşiyorduk.
A. K.: Sinemanın tam anlamıyla sizin için nasıl başka türlü bir pasaport haline geldiğini duymak inanılmaz. Yoğun bir şekilde seyahat etmeye başladığın 1986’daki o ara sonrasında eserlerinin de değişime uğradığı hissine kapıldın mı? O süreçten önce, ülkenin sınırları içinde hareket edemez bir haldeydin ve sonra birdenbire dünyayı dolaşmaya başladın. Ruhsal olarak bu deneyimlerden bir hayli etkilediğin bir dönemdir herhalde. Ve konuyu biraz evvel yayıncılıkla ilgili yaptığımız sohbete geri getirecek olursam, gidip gördüğün ve benzer travmalarla karşılaşmış olması muhtemel bu diğer toplulukları da dâhil eden ortak bir anlayışa rastlayıp rastlamadığını merak ediyorum. Ve diğer taraftan, işlerinin nesneleştirildiğini veya yanlış okumalara yol açtığını hiç hissettin mi diye merak ettim.
G. K.: Evet, tabii ki. Yıllarca kendi konularınızla baş başa kalmak ve sonra kendinizi dünyaya açmak kendi adınıza gerçekten güçlü, acil bir iletişim ihtiyacını da beraberinde getiriyor. Kendi ülkenizde sadece kendinize bakabilir ve kendinizle konuşabilirsiniz. Döneme ait tekniğin ve koşulların daha da sınırlandırdığı iletişim çabalarınız beyhude kalabilir. Bu koşullar değiştiğinde ve nihayet Türkiye dışında farklı ülkelerde yürüttüğüm atölye ve seminerler aracılığıyla çalışmalarımı göstermek ve öğrencilerle doğrudan iletişim kurmak fırsatına kavuştuğumda bunlar bana bambaşka bir bakış açısı kazandırdı. Çünkü hem görülüyordum hem de başka kitlelerle etkileşime giriyordum. Ben onlara bir şeyler veriyordum, onlar da bana bir şeyler veriyorlardı. Hem besliyordum hem de besleniyordum. Bu önemli bir alma ve verme haliydi, bir alışverişti.
Dünyanın farklı yerlerinden gelen bizler ve eserlerimiz bir araya getirildiğinde, bir şekilde ortak sorunlarımız ve hayata binlerce farklı bakış açımız olduğunu gördük. Bu, kendi aramızda birbirimizi anladığımız ve anlaşıldığımızı hissettiğimiz geçiş yolları yarattı. Sadece bu da değil, farklı türden değişken krizlerimiz aracılığıyla dayanışmalar yarattık. Yalnız olmadığımız açıktı. En büyük kazanç buydu.
Çeviri: Erdem Gürsu, yazının diğer dillerdeki versiyonları bağlantıda!
Protocinema’nın yeni dijital yayını PROTODISPATCH, sanatçıların kıtalararası kaygıları ele aldığı, kişisel bakış açılarını içeren deneme serilerinden oluşuyor. İngilizce dilinde yayınlanan denemeler Argonotlar ve Protocinema işbirliğiyle önümüzdeki yıl boyunca her ay Türkçe olarak Argonotlar’da kendine yer bularak bu küresel kaygıların Türkiye sanat ortamında da tartışılmasına alan açacak. Protodispatch’in diğer yayın partnerleri, New York’tan Artnet.com ve Bangkok’dan GroundControlth.com
Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası, 2007. Tek kanallı senkronize video, sesli. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik'in izniyle
Bu sohbette Gülsün Karamustafa ve Alex Klein, Karamustafa’nın jeopolitik manzara, siyasi etkileşim ve direnişe ilişkin sanatsal araçlar tarafından şekillenen yolculuğunun gelişim yıllarına odaklanıyor. Türkiye’deki çocukluk yıllarını etkisi altına alan Demir Perde döneminden 1970’lerin yoğun siyasi Londra’sında BBC Radyosu için yaptığı haberciliğe uzanan deneyimleri, Karamustafa’nın güçlü sanatsal pratiğine zemin hazırladı. Kendisine ve eşine 16 yıl boyunca pasaport verilmemesi sonucu bir nevi Türkiye’de hapsedilmiş olmaları, onun sanatında göç ve adaptasyon meselelerin derinlemesine bir yer edinmesine yol açtı. 1986’da seyahat kısıtlamalarının kaldırılması, çalışmalarının gelişimini etkileyen geniş çaplı küresel seyahatleri mümkün kılan dönüştürücü bir dönemin başlangıcı oldu. Karamustafa’nın sanatı, sinemadaki ortak girişimlerden dünya çapındaki sergilere kadar, sınırların ötesinde karşılıklı alışverişi ve dayanışmayı teşvik eden gerçek ve mecazi bir pasaport halini alıyor. Karamustafa, bu yıl 60.’sı gerçekleştirilecek olan ve ulus olma, somut olmayan kültürel miras ve insan yapımı sınırların süregelen çelişkileri konularında kendisinin de bir muamma sayıldığı Venedik Sanat Bienali kapsamında Türkiye Pavyonu’nda yer alacak sergisi öncesinde kişisel deneyimlerini, ayakları yere basan bir yaşam eleştirisi olarak bizimle paylaşıyor.
Alex Klein: Gülsün, çalışmalarının çoğunu, direniş, kısıtlı hareketlilik ve göç bakımından mekânın kendine özgü koşulları mümkün kılıyor. Coğrafi sıkışmışlığın yanı sıra yerinden edilmenin tarihine de dokunuyorsun. Üstelik bu durumları kendi ülken olan Türkiye’nin hem içindeki hem de dışındaki izleyicilere aktarıyorsun.
Seni, kariyerinin erken döneminlerini, İstanbul’da sanat okulundan mezun olduktan hemen sonra BBC Radyosu Türkçe Bölümü’nde çalışırkenki zamanlarını düşünmeye davet ederek başlamak istiyorum. Londra’da yaşıyordun ve Türkiye’de olup bitenleri, ülkedeki koşulları haberleştiriyordun, ama başka bir ülkenin radyo yayıncılığı aracılığıyla. Mevcut siyasi iklimin dışında konuşacak olursak, bunu çok güçlü bir imge olarak görüyorum ve bu durum pratiğine nüfuz eden ilginç bir gerilime zemin hazırlıyor.
Gülsün Karamustafa: Demir Perde 1950’ler ve 1960’lar boyunca bizi Türkiye’ye hapsetti. Tüm çocukluğum duvarın ardındaki bir ülkede olduğumuzu bilerek geçti. Bize yakın ve aramızda yaşayan düşmanımız Sovyetler Birliği’nden gelen tehditler bizi bu perdenin arkasında tuttu. Kendimizi korumak zorundaydık.
O dönemde Türk vatandaşlarının Avrupa’ya gitmesi kolay değildi; yurtdışına seyahat etmek için devletten izin almamız gerekiyordu. 1970 yılında şimdiki kocamla birlikte Londra’ya gittim. Okuldaki aktivist hareketlere dahil olduk ve birlikte seyahat edebilmek için çabucak evlendik. Orada The Beatles’ın, Mary Quant’ın, Twiggy’nin Londra’sı ile karşılaştık, kesinlikle gelişen ve siyasi olarak aktif bir Londra’yla. Biz geldiğimizde, işçi haklarını kısıtlayan baskıcı Tory yasalarını protesto etmek için genel grev vardı. TUC (İşçi Sendikaları Kongresi) ile birlikte Trafalgar Meydanı’na yürüdük. O gün Londra’da yaklaşık 250.000 işçi greve gitti ve posta işçileri de dahil olmak üzere Büyük Britanya’nın tamamında yaklaşık 1,5 milyon kişi greve katıldı. Birçok Vietnamlı protesto gösterileri yapıyordu, Vietnam savaşı 16. yılındaydı, liman işçileri greve katılarak ABD ordusunun ihtiyaç duyduğu kargo sevkiyatını durdurdu. Yereldeki bu eylemlerin küresel çapta etkileri oldu. Feminist örgütlerle çalıştık, örneğin 8 Mart 1971 Kadın Özgürlük Yürüyüşü’nde onlar için pankartlar tasarladık, elimizden geldiğince yardımcı olduk.
Ben Londra’da BBC’de çalışıyordum. 6 Mart’taki hareketlilikten sonra 12 Mart’ta Türkiye’de askeri darbe oldu. Ben ise bu gelişmeleri bulunduğum yerden, yani Londra’dan, BBC Radyo aracılığıyla duyurmak zorunda kaldım. Bu hayatımız için bir dönüm noktası oldu. Kısa süre sonra Türkiye’ye döndük ve mayıs ayının başında evimizde kaçak birini koruduğumuz gerekçesiyle tutuklandık. Kocam iki buçuk yıl hapis yattı. Ben altı ay hapiste kaldım, ki bu nispeten hiçbir şeydi. Takip eden on beş yıl, 1986 yılına kadar bize pasaport vermediler ve ülkemizde fiilen hapsedildik.
Hapishane Resimleri 6, 1972. Kağıt üzerine karışık teknik, 56 x 52.5 cm. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik’in izniyle
A.K.: Pasaportunuzun elinizden alınması vatandaş olarak haklarınızın kısıtlandığı ve sembolik olarak ulusal kimliğinizin Devlet nezdinde iptal edildiği anlamına geliyor. Biyografiniz ve hareketliliğiniz veya bunların olmayışı, kişisel ve kolektif hayal gücü ve hafızayla ilgili soruları gündeme getiriyor. O yıllarda bu konuda nasıl bir yol izlediniz?
G. K.: Şunu da hesaba katmak gerek, sadece hareketliliğin kısıtlanması da değil, o günlerde iletişim de teknik olarak zordu. İnternetin olmadığı zamanlar. Sadece mektup yazıyorduk, küçük paketler gönderiyorduk. Haberleşmek yavaş ve meşakkatli idi. Bu dönemlerde posta hizmeti çok önemliydi, ta ki bir faksımız olana kadar. Ülkenizde sıkışıp kaldığınızı bilmek bir şeydir, ancak yalnızca çok küçük iletişim olanaklarına sahip olduğunuzu bilmek (şu anda sahip olduğumuz gibi değil) başka bir şeydir. Amerika’daki bir arkadaşımız bize Village Voice‘u gönderiyordu, bu bizim başka yerlerdeki kültüre açılan kapımızdı çünkü burada sadece yerel, hükümet kontrolündeki gazeteler ve televizyon vardı. Sınırlı bilgi kaynakları bizi iç göçün yaşandığı bir dönemde içe bakmaya zorladı. Ekonomik zorluklar nedeniyle kırsal kesimden büyük kitleler şehir merkezlerine göç ediyordu. Duygusal anlamda ağır bir süreçti ve beraberinde renkli, yaratıcı ama pek de hoş karşılanmayan çeşitli yeni kültürleri de getirmiş oldu. O zaman da şimdi olduğu gibi ayrımcılık yoğundu. Dönüşerek uyumlanan bu yaşamları tasvir eden bir sanat yapmaya odaklanmıştım.
1988’de nihayet Grenoble’daki Orta Doğu Kütüphanesi’nde kişisel bir sergi yapma şansı buldum ve sergiye sırt çantamda ve valizimde taşıdığım duvar süsleri ve büyük halılar getirdim. Bu benim uzun süreden sonra başka topraklara attığım ilk adımdı.
Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası, 2007. Tek kanallı senkronize video, sesli. Sanatçının ve BüroSarıgedik’in izniyle
A.K.: Bu süre zarfında işlerine daha göz alıcı renkler ve malzemeler dahil etmeye başladın. Bu değişim neden oldu ve bu dönemi siyah beyaz işlerinden nasıl ayırıyorsun? Bir taraftan da bu çekici renk kullanımlarıyla birşeyleri alenen göstermek yerine bazı kodlamalar üzerinden insanların dikkatini daha radikal ve politik olana doğru çekmek istediğin hissi de var.
G.K.: Bildiğimiz gibi renkli şeyler her zaman mutlu değildir ve hayatta kalmak, kendimizi korumak için saklanmamız gerekir. Bunun iki yüzü var, mesela 2007 tarihli Şehirde Gizli Panter Modası videomdaki panter deseni zamanında moda sektöründe de kullanılan popülist ve seksi bir şeydi. Fakat bu aslında gerçek bir gerilime sahip dramatik bir çalışma, çünkü Türkiye’de kadına yönelik aile içi şiddet korkunç derecede yaygın. Videodaki kadınlar sıradan sıkıcı kıyafetlerle bir eve geliyorlar. Sokaktan gelip de o eşikten içeriye adımlarını attıktan sonra kıyafetlerini panter modasına uygun olarak değiştiriyorlar ve ruh halleri de birden kutlama yapıyorlarmış gibi bir hale dönüşüyor. Rengârenk bir ortam, kadınlar birbirleriyle iletişim halinde eğleniyorlar. Bu kadınların hepsi de eziliyor aslında, onların her biri göçmenleri, yoksulları, azınlıkları ve aynı zamanda egemen erkek iktidarı altında ezilen sıradan şehirli kadınları temsil ediyorlar. Video sona erdiğinde tüm bu kadınlar tekrar sıkıcı kıyafetlerini giyip gerçek hayatlarına geri dönüyorlar. Rengin varlığı ve yokluğunun edebi bir kullanımı söz konusu. Leopar ya da video filmimde isimlendirdiğim şekliyle “gizli panter modası”, yüksek ve alçak olanı bir arada temsil ediyor. Bu desen şu an bile İstanbul sokaklarında, gecekondu mahallelerinde ya da lüks çevrelerde, Dolce&Gabbana, Louis Vuitton gibi yerlerde hâlâ hâkimiyetini sürdürüyor. Kadınlar ve erkekler için ebedi bir güç ve arzu nesnesi.
Diğer taraftan, 2005 tarihli Meydanın Belleği ise siyah beyaz bir film. Kurguyu bitirdiğimde görüntülere baktım ve (mecazi anlamda) her karede yer alabileceğimi gördüm. Zaman dilimlerinin algısını eşitlemek için siyah ve beyaz; bir şeyi hatırladığınızda, onu kendi gündelik hayatınızın rengiye hatırlarsınız. Her bir resmi büyüttüğünüzde, her grubun içinde her şeyin hedefi olabilecek, kalmaya ya da kaçmaya zorlanmış bir kişi bulursunuz. Bu da politik bir şey. Bu benim hikâyem. Ama herhangi bir ailenin görüntüleri de aynı şekilde buraya uyardı.
A.K.: Kendi ulusal sınırlarına hem bağlı hem de bağlı değildin. Halkların başka bölgelerden göç edişini ve bunun kendi şehrinin dokusunu nasıl etkilediğini gözlemleme fırsatın oldu. 16 yıl boyunca seyahat edememek, bir bakıma Hapishane Resimleri‘yle başlayan süreçte çalışmalarının temelini oluşturdu. Sanat eserlerini taşıdığın valizin kendisi de seyyahlık ve sürgün metaforlarıyla dolu…
G. K.: Doğru. O dönemde burada sanat yaparak geçinmek mümkün değildi, ben de sinema sektörüne girdim. Film endüstrisinde sanat yönetmeni olarak iş buldum ve başka bir yaratıcı topluluğa katılma fırsatı yakaladım.
A.K.: Nispeten izole bir şekilde çalıştıktan sonra, bu daha işbirlikçi bağlamda çalışmaktan ve bunu daha geniş bir kitleyle paylaşma şansına sahip olmaktan keyif aldın mı?
G. K.: Çok sevdim. Bu serüven beni ünlü romancı ve dostum Füruzan ile uzun metrajlı bir film çekmeye kadar götürdü. Benim Sinemalarım 1990 yılında Cannes Film Festivali’nin Semaine de La Critique bölümüne seçildi ve Camera d’Or ödülüne aday gösterildi. Bu üretken işbirlikleri sayesinde Fransa’ya gitme şansımız oldu. Sonrasında farklı film festivallerinden de davetler geldi; Toronto, Tahran ve Kahire’ye de gittik. Çocukluk kabusumuzu üzerimizden atmanın, o “perdeyi” üzerimizden silkmenin bir yolu oldu. Bir taraftan tüm bu süreçler ilerlemeye devam ederken, diğer taraftan da uluslararası iletişim gelişiyordu ve sanat bienalleri de büyümeye başlıyordu. Birinci, ikinci ve üçüncü İstanbul Bienalleri’nde yer aldım. Ardından René Block kendisinin tarihi sergi serisi kapsamında beni 1994 yılında Stuttgart’taki IFA Galerisi’ndeki İskele (Turkish Art Today) isimli sergisine katılmaya davet etti, ben de üç kaşığın yer aldığı işim Vatan Doğduğun Değil Doyduğun Yerdir ile projeye dahil oldum. 1990’lı yılların Türkiye’si siyasi açıdan vahim, ekonomi açısından ise son derece sıkıntılı bir durumdaydı. Benim için Orta Doğu, Avrupa ve Asya, Tokyo, Kyoto, Saitama, Gwangju, Seul, Taipei, Toronto, Montreal, New York, Minneapolis, Washington, İskandinavya, İsveç, Norveç, Danimarka, Sao Paulo’ya seyahatler yaptığım bir dönem başlamış oldu. 50’li ve 60’lı yılların tam tersiydi, bu sefer de başka türlü nefes kesici bir süreç oldu.
A. K.: Sizin için en anlamlı yer hangisiydi?
G. K.: Yurtdışında kurduğum önemli ilişkilerden biri de atalarımın yaşadığı Balkanlar’da oldu. Bir Osmanlı Türk’ü olan büyükannem, 1893’te Bulgaristan’dan Türkiye’ye göç etmek zorunda kaldı. 1989 yılında Berlin Duvarı’nın yıkılması ve Balkan Savaşı’nın ardından Avrupa, Balkan bölgesini “Güneydoğu Avrupa” kapsamına almak istedi. Balkanlar’dan bahsederken elbette Osmanlı İmparatorluğu ve Türkiye Cumhuriyeti’nin karmaşık tarihini ve bunlara bağlı olarak ortaya çıkan tüm o komplikasyonları göz ardı edemezsiniz. Harald Szeemann ve René Block’un küratörlüğünü yaptığı sergiler, tüm Balkan sanatçıları arasındaki ilişkileri daha da ileriye taşıdı. Bosna Hersek, Sırbistan, Kosova, Arnavutluk, Karadağ, Romanya. Kendi tarihlerimizle yüzleşiyorduk.
A. K.: Sinemanın tam anlamıyla sizin için nasıl başka türlü bir pasaport haline geldiğini duymak inanılmaz. Yoğun bir şekilde seyahat etmeye başladığın 1986’daki o ara sonrasında eserlerinin de değişime uğradığı hissine kapıldın mı? O süreçten önce, ülkenin sınırları içinde hareket edemez bir haldeydin ve sonra birdenbire dünyayı dolaşmaya başladın. Ruhsal olarak bu deneyimlerden bir hayli etkilediğin bir dönemdir herhalde. Ve konuyu biraz evvel yayıncılıkla ilgili yaptığımız sohbete geri getirecek olursam, gidip gördüğün ve benzer travmalarla karşılaşmış olması muhtemel bu diğer toplulukları da dâhil eden ortak bir anlayışa rastlayıp rastlamadığını merak ediyorum. Ve diğer taraftan, işlerinin nesneleştirildiğini veya yanlış okumalara yol açtığını hiç hissettin mi diye merak ettim.
G. K.: Evet, tabii ki. Yıllarca kendi konularınızla baş başa kalmak ve sonra kendinizi dünyaya açmak kendi adınıza gerçekten güçlü, acil bir iletişim ihtiyacını da beraberinde getiriyor. Kendi ülkenizde sadece kendinize bakabilir ve kendinizle konuşabilirsiniz. Döneme ait tekniğin ve koşulların daha da sınırlandırdığı iletişim çabalarınız beyhude kalabilir. Bu koşullar değiştiğinde ve nihayet Türkiye dışında farklı ülkelerde yürüttüğüm atölye ve seminerler aracılığıyla çalışmalarımı göstermek ve öğrencilerle doğrudan iletişim kurmak fırsatına kavuştuğumda bunlar bana bambaşka bir bakış açısı kazandırdı. Çünkü hem görülüyordum hem de başka kitlelerle etkileşime giriyordum. Ben onlara bir şeyler veriyordum, onlar da bana bir şeyler veriyorlardı. Hem besliyordum hem de besleniyordum. Bu önemli bir alma ve verme haliydi, bir alışverişti.
Dünyanın farklı yerlerinden gelen bizler ve eserlerimiz bir araya getirildiğinde, bir şekilde ortak sorunlarımız ve hayata binlerce farklı bakış açımız olduğunu gördük. Bu, kendi aramızda birbirimizi anladığımız ve anlaşıldığımızı hissettiğimiz geçiş yolları yarattı. Sadece bu da değil, farklı türden değişken krizlerimiz aracılığıyla dayanışmalar yarattık. Yalnız olmadığımız açıktı. En büyük kazanç buydu.
Çeviri: Erdem Gürsu, yazının diğer dillerdeki versiyonları bağlantıda!
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