2012
Arsalan Mohammed: In 2010, you told the Financial Times, “We’re on the edge of an explosion. I tell artists, ‘Don’t sell all your works!’ Frankly, it scares me.” Did the events of the past two years bear out your fears?
Vasıf Kortun: It did not take a clairvoyant to see what would happen. It is all happening according to the screenplay. But I am not just watching this unfold before my eyes indolently. We are in a rush to shield and try to protect certain things from extreme marketization. I remain worried that ill-considered decisions are made about the destiny of great works. I am also a bit concerned about the dispersal of patrimony. If we do not act diligently, things will disappear from public view before arriving in the public realm.
Arsalan Mohammed: How has the growth we can see from outside Istanbul, come about in recent years? What, in your opinion, have been the driving factors in the city’s arts expansion?
Vasıf Kortun: A range of factors are at play. There is a substantial group of arts professionals. There is also an expanding economy with significant liquidity in a few hands; some of the prominent families of Istanbul have matured and are more exact than ever. This context draws in the Euro-American museums, forcing the players here to learn faster. The giving here is on par with the centuries-old tradition of beneficient enterprises. The private sector has been more reliable, durable, and generous than the state. Patronage in institutions like Collector Space, SAHA, and SPOT are interestingly diversifying. There are individual commission support spaces, such as Esirtgen Collection, and galleries like MANA or Rampa operate like support structures.
Istanbul’s extremely problematic urban reshuffling has allowed a critical core of large institutions to be close, like an archipelago connected to the historical peninsula. It takes five tram spots from Istanbul Modern to Hagia Sophia. Private institutions in public service have to work more closely than before, and we are having very productive informal meetings. We must collaborate and become integrated in many aspects to compete for excellence.
Arsalan Mohammed: Are events such as CI and the Biennale adequately representing the diversity of artistic activity? What are the benefits you have discerned from these events for Istanbul?
Vasıf Kortun: Each Biennial is different, and I doubt that CI’s job is to represent diversity.
Arsalan Mohammed: How does the art market in Istanbul differ – if it does – from markets in such cities as London, New York, etc? Is there any aspect of it that is unique to this city?
Vasıf Kortun: My interest in the market is straightforward. I like to see that great artists are neither abused nor adversely impacted by the market. If some are supported, that’s a surplus! As someone who has put a lot of sweat into Istanbul, I interpose myself now and then to dubious success. I do not know what is unique about the market other than the fact that it was pretty parochial, but that is changing, too.
Arsalan Mohammed: How have you seen the city’s artists cope with the explosion of interest in Istanbul? Do you see bolder experimentation, more considered ideologues, and progressive and relevant art that is immediately of its origins yet speaks to a broader audience?
I feel grateful to be around as an older man watching a wonderful group of younger artists who do not suffice with facile propositions. They also no longer feel the need to splinter away from artists who were around before them. Older artists, too, are putting out some of their best work. Most I see is exceptional, but not far from it. It is important to note that the recent production steps back from responding to the allure of the every day of Turkey. It is gestated and thoughtful.
Vasıf Kortun: Arsalan Mohammed: What was missing in the city’s Artscape that made you want to found SALT, this amazingly diverse and dynamic institution? What was your manifesto, and what were your aims for founding this space?
We do not fill gaps; that’s too predictable. SALT is an outcome of collective thinking in how an institution produces a new reality in response to the geographical, temporal, and professional indices it faces. We are always in process and we weave together a multitude of disciplines. Some things work; others do not. Research and experimental thinking sit at the core of what we do, and we fail now and then, but that is infinitely more interesting than following paths already taken. I hope we will be worthy of the public and kept on our toes.
SALT is presenting a cutting-edge, eclectic program working with international artists and curators over your spaces in the city, striving to present a multiplicity of voices, ideologies, and statements. How do you evolve and control such a space? As time goes on, how do your programs react and respond to the growth of the city’s arts?
Vasıf Kortun: There is no recipe; we must be super alert, restless, well-informed, and thoughtful. You have to take the internal and external critique to heart. A good institution can never be sure of itself.
Arsalan Mohammed: Where do you see Istanbul’s identity as an ‘art hub’ going in years to come? Do you feel, for instance, that the presence of a new fair proposed for 2013 is a positive step?
Vasıf Kortun: If the economy goes through a downturn, the “art hub” will take a significant hit because the financial and art markets are coupled; you can already see this in the difference between 2011 and 2012. If the tax laws regarding the import and export of works of art do not get a revision, forget it. We took a step away from the “contemporary” with SALT because all this rush towards the spectacularized city is nothing but a rush. Would anything be better if the city became an “art hub”? It has nothing to do with the quality of the work, the context, or the experience.
Arsalan Mohammed: And as for you, what about this city keeps you in its midst and compels you to continue being a part of it?
Vasıf Kortun: Trust me, there are a million other cities I would rather live in. I return teary-eyed from cities like Dakar, Prizren, Taipei, or Tokyo. Istanbul is a weary, uncivil, pugnacious town that some are still trying to conquer with unexplainable disdain and vengeance. I used to say it still survives, but for how long?
vasıf kortun 