Sweat, streets and democracy

Grüss Gott! as they salute you in Salzburg. As you can see here is pretty peaceful:

 

 

I’m Göksu, who doesn’t believe in nations, but in cultural idiosyncrasies. Despite the political agenda, the peculiarities of Turkey, where I grew up, still put a smile on my face. For instance, three years ago, our relative Aunt Tülay saw a weird building high on mountains – reminiscent of a castle – when reading my fortune through the remains of Turkish coffee in my cup. Then, months later, I got this mail from Baerbel Hartje – who later became a dear friend – if I was interested in writing about the Academy. Apparently, the castle in my fortune was the Fortress with its unique architecture. That’s how I met with the Academy and the report School of Vision was realized.

Years later, I’m here again ascending and descending the stone stairs to depict the everyday life going on in the Academy for the following 6 weeks. Classes have just started this morning. I met Didem and Demet from Turkey, taking Varda Caivano’s Painting Lab – Painting Enquiry and Lukas Pusch’s Print Print Print. Inevitably, the small talk of the first encounter transformed into a political talk on sadness and fear. As most of you already know, the coup attempt in Turkey caused quite a stir last Friday. I was at my home in Berlin, preparing for my time in Salzburg. I recall the moment that I was watching Erdogan issuing a statement via Facetime on TV. It was incredibly absurd because of the close up angle shot – almost felt like as if I was on phone with him in person. Well, I ponder if the President uses Snapchat as well…

Friends, who still reside in Turkey, have been writing on Facebook about the sounds of jet engines, gunshots and the voice of muezzins reverberating from mosques in the most unexpected hour… My eyes brim with tears when I see a specific image depicting early Saturday morning, after the fail of coup d’état. A pile of bodies with military uniforms were beaten with leather belts by the followers of Erdogan on Bosphorus Bridge (apparently, it is understood that the soldiers who are at the bottom of the hierarchy pyramid were just following the orders and didn’t even have an idea about what was going on). Although the police was around, he did nothing. Some call this scene democracy.

Inevitably, the topic of this year stresses the politics of EU in relation to immigration and transcultural exchange. I’m curious what the people in the Academy wandering around the white streets of Salzburg think about what really democracy is in the world of drones. I think it is sweat… We sweat whether we are a police on duty or a student in a miniature class of Imran Qureshi learning to perfectly sharpen a pencil with a knife…

 

 

Time for me to keep visiting classes… Tomorrow, I’ll be writing about miniature.