interview Ferhat Ozgür
Etienne Verbist: Although you studied painting, you are working in various disciplines such as photography, installation and video, focusing on sometimes crucial matters environmentally, politically and sociologically. In this sense we can start with 'Madımak (Knotweed) Pickers', a series of documentary photographs depicting the plight of poor people in the city of Ankara. How did this idea come about?
Ferhat Özgür: ‘Madımak’ is a spring plant which costs nothing. It blooms on the mountains, hills and in the valleys and is ready to be picked with the onset of the April showers. People venture into the outside world carrying their plastic bags & with cutting knives in their hands. Collection is quick and easy, after which the plants are boiled and eaten, tasking similar to parsley. When I was little I still recall how we enjoyed picking them from the land.
“Knotweed (Madımak) Pickers”, serial photos, 2010
“Knotweed (Madımak) Pickers”, serial photos, 2010
“Knotweed (Madımak) Pickers”, serial photos, 2010
E.V: Although it appears to be an enjoyable game, this ritual is actually a struggle of poor people trying to survive in a city or urban environment.
F.Ö: It also acts as a symbolic reminder that the so-called 'city dwellers' still depend on the land. Between the remaining ramshackle shanty houses, the new apartment blocks & the cooperative urban zones, knotweed continues to bloom, mature and flourish, requiring no special agricultural attention. Even though the city keeps on expanding, there is still space for the knotweed to co-exist with the development providing food for the city dweller. The series shot entirely in Ankara, seeks to demonstrate the dilemma between poverty and prosperity in the modernisation process within Turkey. It tries to assess the relationship between the land and the people within the geography of a modern city. It is a conceptual attempt to identify how 'urban-villagers' profit from this free bounty provided by nature.
E.V: During lockdown it is very obvious that you were engaged in some new work too, especially completing the longest video you have ever made, “Maybe Happy Ending”, 45 min. This also includes environmental traumas in some aspects.
F.Ö: F.Ö: “Maybe Happy Ending” is an attempt to question poetically the correlations between written thoughts and images which seem like an abstraction of a short fiction written by “Copycats” performance group. Collaborating with Ilyas Odman, a choreographer and performer of the group, I brought together different elements, selected part by Odman’s performances, video clips from my own video archive spanning almost two decades, images glued from internet as well as video contributions by other artists, all of which lead us to an endless enigmatic journey in which political, cultural, environmental and psychological traumas are embedded.
“Maybe Happy Ending”, video still, 2020, 45 minutes.
E.V: You are also working on staged-photography representing the human figures as enigmatic as you do in your videos. How do you combine reality and fiction?
F.Ö: For me all the places, including interior and exterior architecture, no matter they are from landscapes, country side or from cities, are potentially performative stages where I can compose or design my own fantasy. Whilst photographing the stage I place figures in unperceptible positions to make the whole scene look like a sort of surrealist atmosphere. Actually what makes these staged photographs interesting might be this obscurity where the audience can create their own interpretations. But it works quite the opposite way when documenting the reality outside like I did in “Knotweed Pickers” , “Waiting” or “Night” series in which the reality of the outer world establish their own photo grammar that I have to discover and capture.
“Lockdown Diary”, 2020, photograph, dimensions variable.
Lockdown Diary”, 2020, photograph, dimensions variable.
“Waiting” ongoing serial photographs, 2021
E.V: One of your recent work is “The Wall” which I find quite impressive regarding the excavation of the architectural history of the place. As a video essay which tries to highlight some unpopular facts about the murder of Sabahattin Ali, one of the most well known writers in Turkish literature. The video declares that his murder has still not been substantiated after seventy two years. Can you tell about the content of this video?
“The Wall”, 2020, video still, 22 min.
F.Ö: Sabahattin Ali was jailed in Sinop Prison during 1932 – 1933. Threading its way, through the empty wards, corridors, bathrooms, prison cells, damp ceilings, cracked and mossy walls, with their alienated, meaningless, cold and distant looks, the camera not only examines the overall architectural structure of the prison but also reveals dramatically Turkey’s recent political and cultural facts behind the murder. Contrary to the traditional ‘narrative documentary’, based on distinctive representative images, I attempted to illustrate the impact of cinematography in story telling by avoiding interviews and conversations with people. After my detailed readings about the life of the writer, as well as his visits to Sinop Prison, I tried to invite the spectators to reconsider the murder and to identify with prison life through the concept of emptiness which perpetuates many historical dilemmas within it.
E.V: Dear Ferhat, thanks for all your contributions.
F.Ö: My pleasure.