Category: Culture/Art

  • ‘Koprudekiler’ (‘Men on the Bridge’), a Drama Set in Istanbul

    ‘Koprudekiler’ (‘Men on the Bridge’), a Drama Set in Istanbul

    Working-Class Men, Longing for Change in a Restless Land

    ‘Koprudekiler’ (‘Men on the Bridge’), a Drama Set in Istanbul

    Endorphine Production

    20kopru articleLarge

    Fikret Portakal in “Koprudekiler” (“Men on the Bridge”), set in Istanbul. The title characters are linked by the long hours they spend on the Bosporus Bridge.

    By ANDY WEBSTER

    There’s palpable verisimilitude in Asli Ozge’s “Koprudekiler” (“Men on the Bridge”), a powerful portrait of working-class Istanbul that artfully suggests a wellspring of found moments. Quietly, steadily, it gathers a resonance belying its slice-of-life scale.

    More About This Movie

    Initially intent on a documentary, Ms. Ozge wrote a script influenced by the lives of her cast members (mostly nonactors, all convincing). The uneducated Fikret, a teenager who illegally sells roses in traffic, aspires to a steady job but flails briefly as a busboy. Trapped in a life of Dumpster-diving subsistence, he finds comfort only in hip-hop.

    Umut, married to the restless Cemile, drives a cab in sometimes 24-hour stretches. Against a backdrop of Western-style advertisements and television images, the couple struggle, confined by gender roles and a lack of education.

    Murat is a nationalistic policeman in search of a spouse online. What links the men are the long hours they spend on the Bosporus Bridge, the grindingly congested suspension bridge linking Europe and Asia.

    Murat, an observant Muslim, regards the Kurdistan Workers’ Party as a terrorism organization and wants its members barred from Parliament; his dates with women are fraught with agonizing pauses and his self-centered utterances.

    At a Republic Day parade, Fikret and his friends watch military jets overhead and a procession of tanks. “I wish there was a war,” a friend says, more for employment, you suspect, than for patriotism. Cemile seeks only independence for herself.

    Everywhere in Istanbul, it seems, there is a longing, a need for change in a country balanced precipitously between East and West, and past and future.

    Koprudekiler

    Opens on Wednesday in Manhattan.

    Written and directed by Asli Ozge; director of photography, Emre Erkmen; edited by Vessela Martschewski, Aylin Zoi Tinel and Christof Schertenleib; produced by Fabian Massah and Ms. Ozge. At the Roy and Niuta Titus Theaters, Museum of Modern Art. In Turkish, with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 27 minutes. This film is not rated.

    WITH: Fikret Portakal (Fikret), Murat Tokgoz (Murat), Umut Ilker (Umut) and Cemile Ilker (Cemile).

    A version of this review appeared in print on June 20, 2012, on page C6 of the New York edition with the headline: Working-Class Men, Longing for Change in a Restless Land.

    via ‘Koprudekiler’ (‘Men on the Bridge’), a Drama Set in Istanbul – NYTimes.com.

  • DADDY LOLO

    DADDY LOLO

    DADDY LOLO (ORIENTAL ROCK AND ROLL) – Ganim’s Asia Minors [EastWest #109] 1957 Exotic

    Weird Oriental Rocker featuring Rufus Harley.
    DADDY LOLO (ORIENTAL ROCK AND ROLL) – Ganim’s Asia Minors [EastWest #109] 1957
    (Ganimian)

    Pub., Monument-Progressive, BMI
    Hand Writing Matrix: 45-EW-2879-1 / 45-EW-2878-2

    Night Beat Records (Japan)

    Records Blog
    http://djjames.seesaa.net/
    (Sorry, Japanese text only)

    lp
  • Outstanding kebab in Istanbul

    Outstanding kebab in Istanbul

    At 6 PM on a Monday evening the dining room of Adana Ocakbasi was nearly full and the wide grill in the corner was covered with skewers loaded with meat. While most restaurants, worldwide, were closed or waiting for a slow night to start, this neighborhood kebab house was busting through a bumper rush of early birds in for a quick lamb chop or two on the way home. The dinner crowd had not even arrived.

    “This place will ruin you,” said our waiter showing us to two stools at the marble counter that circles the grill, the smoking heart of the room. “You wont be able to eat meat anywhere else.”

    The usta behind the grill skewered, slapped, turned, shifted, spiced and plated meat with the concentration of a tantric yogi. When he reached a relatively calm moment in his grilling cycle, he gently mixed a bucketful of sumac and raw, chopped onions with his hands – all of it an awesome sight of endurance. If we we’re going to be ruined we might as well enjoy the show.

    Along with a bottle of raki, we ordered a couple of starters – an excellent ezme, a relish of finely chopped onions, tomatoes, red peppers and plenty of parsley dressed with olive oil and pomegranate molasses, and kozde patlican, a whole eggplant grilled until the inside has gone meltingly floppy and then peeled. Served with small fresh rounds of tirnakli ekmek, a flatbread ubiquitous in kebab houses, the meze clearly play a supporting role to the meat here, but they were simple and delicious.

    We soon moved onto the stars of the show, ordering a couple of skewers of just about everything we’d seen on the grill. Small cubes of lamb liver and cop sis, tiny bits of marinated beef bookended by slivers of fat came out first. There is an entire classification of restaurants in Istanbul devoted specifically to grilled liver and cop sis and not one of them serves liver as tender and succulent as Adana Ocakbasi. It would be well worth a visit for the liver alone, but a crime to leave before the parade of bone-in cuts made their way from the grill.

    The lamb chops and ribs, liberally dusted in red pepper and thyme, were so juicy they drenched the thin sheet of lavas beneath, making it all the more palatable. The beyti kebabi – in our favorite rendition, a sis of Urfa wrapped in lavas, cut into slices and drizzled with tomato sauce and yogurt – was nothing more than a sis of Urfa kebab, minimalist for a beyti, but exceptionally tasty.

    Already full and hooked on this place, we needed a little something more to tide us over until the next visit. Scanning the grill, we asked about uykuluk, or sweetbreads, a specialty often found on kebab house menus but rarely in stock. Within minutes our usta was sliding a dozen or so small charred orbs onto a plate for us. Springy in texture, this uykuluk carried a characteristic whiff of organ meat, which stood up well against the spice dusting and the char from the grill. These well-prepared sweetbreads, more than the meat even, were our personal ruination.

    Paying the modest bill and leaving the room packed with people feasting on prime cuts of lamb, we felt as if we’d just been initiated into a carnivorous club. We imagined one day having two seats at the grill designated as “our usual” spot. If being “ruined” means becoming a regular here, that’s a fate we welcome.

    Address: Ergenekon Caddesi, Baysungur Sokak 8, Pangalti

    Telephone: +90212 247 0143

    (photo by Ansel Mullins)

    via Outstanding kebab in Istanbul | Istanbul Eats.

  • The Daily Telegraph: Fazil Say and Turkey’s war on atheism

    The Daily Telegraph: Fazil Say and Turkey’s war on atheism

    Tom Chivers

    Here in Britain, we are told there is a war on Christianity. Quite why people think that is a little beyond me, since we’re still technically a Christian country, we have 26 bishops automatically appointed to the House of Lords, and whenever a former Archbishop says “Christian voices are being silenced” it silently gets plastered all over the front pages of every newspaper. But it’s worth remembering that in some parts of the world people actually do have to worry about what they say about their religion, or lack thereof. What’s surprising, though, is how close to home some of those places are.

    fazil say

    Fazil Say, a Turkish composer and pianist, has said that he is going to leave his native country and move to Japan after he was placed under investigation by the Istanbul Prosecutor’s Office for “insulting religious values” and offending Islamic belief. His (alleged) crime? Tweeting that he is an atheist: “I am an atheist and proud to have said it loud and clear.” He also gently mocked the call to prayer (“The muezzin has recited the evenin azan in 22 seconds. What’s the rush? Lover? Raki binge?”) and reportedly said that since you get promised drinks and beautiful women for doing good deeds, Heaven sounds a bit like a pub or a brothel.

    It’s hardly savage stuff, but under Turkish law anyone convicted of insulting “religious values” can be sentenced to up to a year in prison. (One wonders whether this applies to all religions. Scientologists and Mormons must love the idea of a country where laughing at particularly silly religious stories is illegal. “So the angel who gave you these golden plates which said that we should give you all our money was called Moroni, eh?” “All right, chum, you’re nicked.”) So Say might be in actual trouble. “If I am sentenced to prison, my career will be finished,” he says.

    Two things are worth noting about this. One is that Turkey could soon be a member of the European Union (if it’s foolish enough to still want to join) – and I hope it should go without saying that if you’re in the business of jailing people for not believing in God, then you should not get anywhere near even consideration.

    The other is that it is a reminder of how rare it is for people brought up Muslim to admit to atheism. In a moving piece in this month’s New Humanist, the science teacher and programme-maker Alom Shaha writes about how he was called “brave” after deciding to write The Young Atheist’s Handbook, a book about how he grew up atheist in an Islamic family in south-east London. “[B]ecause I come from a Bangladeshi background, because I was born into and grew up in a Muslim community, people who don’t know me, who haven’t read the book, have leapt to the conclusion that I must somehow be ‘brave’, and this worries me,” he says. “I’m worried because there’s something insidious about the idea that I am brave, because at the heart of that suggestion is a very negative view of Islam and Muslims.”

    He’s referring, of course, to the fear that there will be violent reprisals, and I think he’s right to discount them. People seem to think that there is a law of omerta about Islam in the British newspaper industry, but actually the religion is criticised often in print and online – including once or twice by me, and I’ve never had so much as a rude email. But Alom, whom I know slightly (I’ve lost at poker to him), is, I think, being brave in another way, which he reveals here:

    I know a number of “ex-Muslim atheists”. We gather in pubs, raise glasses of alcohol in celebration of our godlessness and order the sausages and mash to demonstrate we don’t believe there’s any good reason (apart from vegetarianism) not to eat pork. But I am one of a small minority of “ex-Muslims” who is openly atheist in my day-to-day life.

    It’s still harder for someone of Islamic extraction to “come out” as an atheist than it is for most people of Christian background. And this is in Britain, where (thankfully) we have no ludicrous blasphemy laws any more. Turkey is officially be a secular country – set up as such by Kemal Ataturk, who was so powerfully set against the nation’s traditions that he banned the wearing of fezzes and turned the Ayia Sofia from a mosque into a museum. But nowadays the ruling party, which has been in power since 2002, is strongly connected to Islamic conservatism, and is drawing Turkey towards the sort of radical Islam to which the country has never previously been inclined. As the Fazil Say case shows, the state is quick to take action against perceived attacks on Islam, which it apparently believes includes statements of disbelief. (Regular readers might remember that the Turkish government recently tried to censor online mentions of Darwin, as well. Clearly there is a frightened-of-reality streak in the country’s ruling classes.)

    Now. People in this country might get all hot and bothered about the March of Intolerant Secularism (which, to a secular atheist’s ears, normally sounds like “How dare they make me obey the same rules and laws as everybody else”). But in fact secularism – the utterly reasonable state of affairs in which governments do not get involved in religious belief – has not marched far enough. The Islamic world, even the so-called moderate bits like Turkey, would benefit enormously from a stronger secular movement, and more people, like Alom and like Fazil Say, who are brave enough to admit that they do not believe.

  • Istancool

    Istancool

    Istancool

    LET’S TALK TURKEY

    by Adrian Dannatt

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    Vakko HQ building

    Istancool, also known as the Istanbul International Arts and Culture Festival, is a packed powerhouse of a long weekend that also serves as the perfect introduction to what is arguably the hottest city on the current global art scene.

    Istanbul really does seem to have it all: a sophisticated and much traveled bourgeoisie, a small but very powerful group of collectors, a growing number of highly respected young artists, local museums and independent spaces, its own glossy magazines and unbelievably low rents. All in all, the city is a sort of “Berlin on the Bosporus” with the added advantage of being beautiful.

    Thus, it’s hardly surprising that galleries such as Lehmann Maupin and Paul Kasmin have launched satellite shows in this city, that Sotheby’s established a series of successful auctions of modern Turkish art in 2009, that the place is packed with creative exiles living on the cheap, or indeed that the artist Burhan Dogançay (b. 1929), having made Manhattan his base back in 1964, returned home to open his own one-person museum in 2004.

    And now it was recently announced that the Museum of Modern Art, MoMA PS1, and the Istanbul Museum of Modern Art have forged a new partnership to expand the Young Architects Program to Turkey. As Barry Bergdoll of MoMA put it, “The vibrancy of the architecture and design worlds in Turkey demands attention both locally and internationally.”

    Oya Eczacibas, chair of the board of Istanbul Modern, expressed her delight in signing the agreement with MoMA, describing her museum as being “committed to sharing Turkey’s artistic creativity with wide audiences and promoting its cultural identity in the international art world.” This could equally serve as a description of Istancool, if you also added teams of hipsters being jetted in from every corner of that pan-international Planet Chic.

    For Istancool is, as its name might suggest, definitively modish, putting the most fashionable contemporary art together with equally high-end fashion, style, design, photography, film, music and even club culture.

    Istancool also represents another micro-trend, that of the single-owner cultural festival belonging to one individual. Today it is no longer enough to have your own private art space or family gallery, what you really need is to host your own personal biennale. Thus it was that swimming pool and department store-heir James Moores originally launched his own Liverpool Biennale in 1998, Vanessa Branson founded her own Marrakech Biennale and Dasha Zhukova can organize regular cultural meetings in Moscow.

    Likewise Istancool essentially belongs to one very attractive and dynamic couple, Demet Muftuoglu Eseli and her infamously handsome husband Alphan. (At last year’s Istancool a misinformed Courtney Love kept assuring Demet “I’m going to have to f*ck your brother” until she was told of their actual relationship.)

    Demet is creative consultant to Vakko, a huge and highly prosperous fashion company that is twinned with the country’s most successful radio and TV group, Power, and this is presumably where all the funding for this lavish and glamorous cultural fiesta comes from.

    Based around a series of panels, exhibitions and events, Istancool veers between the academic, with a Turkish interviewer actually quoting Jacques Lacan, and the actively hedonistic, as evinced in a night-long riverside party hosted by New York’s Boom Boom Room.

    Previous participants have included everyone from Sophie Calle and Sam Taylor-Wood to Dan Colen and Ryan McGinley, and this third edition had managed to rally an equally impressive roster of visitors to take part in the two-days of PowerPoint discussions.

    Of these the star was probably Robin Rhode, newly represented by Lehmann Maupin, which has made him a major figure in Istanbul, where he had a show opening at the space Istanbul 74, which is also associated with the festival and indeed Vakko.
    This exhibition nicely demonstrated the dexterity of his oeuvre, that admixture of drawing, photography and film that so deftly mixes whimsy with social conscience.

    The other star was Pinar Yolacan, an artist whose CV absolutely encapsulates the new Istanbul scene, for though an ostensibly “Turkish” artist Yolacan studied fashion at St. Martin’s in London before going on to do fine art at Cooper Union in New York, where she still resides. Currently living in Istanbul, thanks to a prestigious teaching post, Yolacan is equally at home in either metropolis, seeing them as complimentary cultural centers, and her large-scale photographic works were as clearly appreciated by the Turkish audience as the weekending foreigners.

    Indeed Jefferson Hack, editor of Dazed & Confused, who held a slideshow Q&A with Yolacan, rightly saw the parallels between her works and the increasingly Surreal tendencies of current fashion photography.

    Yolacan was followed by a discussion between photographer Mario Sorrenti and his sometime editor Cecelia Dean, co-founder of Visionaire magazine, where the strong intersection between fashion and contemporary art was again made blatantly clear.

    These talks were held in the incredibly new HQ of Vakko itself, a sort of vacuum-packed Deconstructivist “broken bundle of mirrors” (to pretentiously quote Ezra Pound) designed by REX architects of New York and recent winner of a Wallpaper award.

    Here, the mixing, matching and mingling of all these various “visual regimes,” art, fashion, architecture, design, film, from the billboard advert to the museum atrium, from the computer monitor to the catwalk, from experimental laboratory to high-street store, was made abundantly clear. Thus Visionaire launched its latest edition, the largest magazine ever produced in the world, towering some 7 x 5 ft., an effort that was indistinguishable from a conceptual art installation.

    Curiously enough, the most popular and packed event seemed to be a signing by Carine Roitfeld, the Paris-based former Vogue editor, of a vast book of her work, essentially up-market photocopies of her already published magazine pages, which despite its $150 price tag inspired a frenzy of fans. This event was held at the beautiful Vakko library, which as further proof of the civilized nature of the company has just opened itself to the public, so that anyone can come and visit the HQ and consult their groaning shelves.

    The success of Roitfeld is surely an indication of our culture’s fascination with the relatively new role of the intermediary, the interpreter, in contrast to the originator or producer; her success as a “stylist” as opposed to actual clothes designer or photographer exactly paralleling the triumph of the curator over the artists themselves.

    One of the most celebrated artists in attendance, New York whiz kid Aaron Young, was particularly revealing on the pressures of just such curatorial and market pressures, as when he was asked by his interviewer Chiara Clemente if he would ever give up his signature motorcycle paintings. “I don’t know if they will let me stop,” he admitted. “It’s a little out of my hands at the moment.” It was perhaps the most honest statement of the whole weekend.

    Likewise another much-fêted downtown New Yorker, the eternally youthful Nate Lowman, made no bones about the importance of private collectors to his own esthetic, showing one of his earlier works, My First Check, a painting of a $3,000 money order from the Rubell family.

    Part of the purpose of Istancool is precisely to bring over the latest hottest artists such as Young and Lowman in order to show their work to their Turkish equivalents and, perhaps more importantly, show them Istanbul and all its rich potential.

    Thus this incubator as a sort of “first time” travel agent should not be underestimated, for nearly all the imported talent had never been to Istanbul before and swore they would be coming back, and as soon as possible.

    These visitors included Marco Brambilla, the fabled movie director video artiste who was actually here in Istanbul because a local collector has just committed to hosting a show of his major works, and Kyle DeWoody (daughter of collector Beth) launching the first international version of her Grey Area art and fashion boutique from Broadway in New York.

    The biggest bestseller of this said Grey Area, worn by everyone over the weekend, was blank fake Rolex watches designed by Shelter Serra, nephew of Richard, yet another family-name which along with Clemente and Cassavetes made clear that today’s celebrities are as dynastic as their royal predecessors.

    Istancool bears witness to the breadth of vibrant creative activity that has taken over Istanbul in the last few years. Witness the global art wanderer and connoisseur of beauty Sam Samore, a new resident of the city, camped out at the bargain rate Hotel des Anglais, who provides a sort of ultimate, secret imprimatur of serious art world credibility. As Samore puts it, “Istanbul is absolutely the most important city to be living in at the moment, why would anyone be anywhere else?”

     

    ADRIAN DANNATT is a Paris-based critic and writer.

  • Madonna Exposes Breast During Istanbul MDNA Concert…On Purpose. *NSFW*

    Madonna Exposes Breast During Istanbul MDNA Concert…On Purpose. *NSFW*

    This was no “wardrobe malfunction”, y’all. Leave it to Madonna to slowly perform a bit of a peek-a-boob during “Human Nature” and a very slow, low and sultry version of “Like a Virgin”.

    Be my guest and have a look:

    So, my question is: How do Rocco and Lourdes feel about Mum performing this way, since they are both taking part in the tour?

    I will say this, Madge is still very sexy at 53 years of age.

    Is Madonna the Sacrifice?
    Is Madonna the Sacrifice?

     

    via Madonna Exposes Breast During Istanbul MDNA Concert…On Purpose. *NSFW* | Dipped In Cream.