unpublished, 2003
Review 8th Istanbul Biennial
The 8th Istanbul Biennial arrived in a climate of restless anticipation. Everyone held their breath, praying that there would not be another 9/11, an earthquake, or other nasty surprises. Even the terrorists obliged, and only on the last day of the show the two truck bombs rocked the city. The Americans came to the opening with their museum boards and collector circles escorted by institution curators. It was a mini-Venice with good weather as the bonus. The itineraries were carefully planned with the restaurants, exclusive tours, carpet shopping, and artworks acquired from the local galleries and during the 15 to 20-minute exposés at the artist studios. Istanbul donned its best face with unconditional hospitality. The logo-rich parties were abundant, although they felt like corporate dinners. A few days after the opening, when the guests dispersed, a feeling of depletion sank in. No one had talked about the exhibition up until then. The guests were all too nice in not casting a critical eye. The Turks had everything up and running, and if the projects at the Cistern were barely passable, the site was a treat, and if the show at Hagia Sophia was scandalous, the building was a gem. Everyone enjoyed the “buy one get two.” Hence, the Istanbul Biennial remains immune from the critical reception that other major exhibitions are scrutinized. This can only be due to a patronizing reflex that may only be upset with an exhibition to die for.
When the bombs went off in front of two synagogues on a beautiful Saturday morning, followed by more at the British Consulate and the HSBC headquarters the next week, the city fell to severe depression. Two of the explosions were close to the de-trafficked, symbolic center of the town with its cultural centers, the institutional and alternative spaces, and the biennial office. The attendance plummeted so did the enthusiasm, in both the media and street-scape, reminding us how frail everything is despite the unexpected performance of contemporary artists from Turkey in the last five years that are making waves anywhere from the Beck’s Future awards to the recent Documenta.
Istanbul has habitually banked on the energy of its artists. In the last three years, however, with the arrival of institutions like the Platform Garanti Contemporary Art Center and Proje4L Istanbul Museum of Contemporary Art next to the older ones like the Borusan, support for the resident production and engagement with and inventing a public began to take hold. This “normalization” has been at the expense of a close-knit and cohesive art community that has now dispersed on the continuous hustle of the global exhibition and residency circuit. The changes have also compelled traditional institutions such as Aksanat to reposition themselves more openly towards contemporary expression. During the Biennial, galleries and institutions came out to showcase the contemporary, and retreat to their usual programs after the show. We have to surmise. However, that art is often an expression of a crisis, not normalization. Galerist, a new gallery that fractured the seemingly impenetrable conservatism of the local collectors of both daring and trendy exhibitions, has found its niche for the young and the cool. More importantly, several artists like Kutlug Ataman, Fikret Atay, and Haluk Akakçe have been working with the prime London, New York, and Paris galleries. Major museums and collectors in Europe and the United States have acquired works from some artists. As a result, almost all of the seminal works produced in the 1990s have left the country. Meanwhile, those in positions of power, connections, and ignorance long for new museums that inevitably end up in local collection laundering. This would contribute even further to an apolitical culture infused with corporate cultural funding that imagines a middle-class, elitist, and heritage-limited expression that tacitly affirms the status quo.
Now, the biennial, having been a flop with the attendance and overspent by a large margin, along with the Foundation that it is a part of, may just fold. This would be nothing short of a disaster for Istanbul, which is already taken over by here-today-gone-tomorrow agencies and start-up companies seeking shady sponsorship deals, imagining populist projects, colonizing public spaces, and burning logos onto our retina. In short, Istanbul is facing the catastrophic outcome of the lack of secularized public funds. How to survive in this hostile atmosphere of vulgarity is already a miracle.
vasıf kortun 