Riding on the wave of its critical success, the Oscar-nominated Mustang will be screened in UK theatres (in cities such as London, Oxford and Edinburgh, among others) starting May 13. If you’re feeling a bit lazy, there are also options for watching the film at home beginning on the same date. Regardless of how you see it, this debut feature film from the French-Turkish writer and director Deniz Gamze Ergüven is not to be missed.

Told from the perspective of young Lale and her four older sisters, Mustang weaves a coming-of-age tale wherein societal pressure and familial rule determine the trajectory of these girls’ lives. Set in an insular village community on the Black Sea coast, the film documents the sisters’ lockdown in the family’s large, wooden home after innocent games with local boys are misinterpreted and cause a scandal within the community. No longer allowed to attend school, the girls take lessons on how to be good wives – they learn the best way to roll yaprak sarma, among other necessary skills – and are married off in quick succession. There’s a wrench thrown into these plans, as there often is, but I won’t spoil the ending for you.  

Watch the trailer below:

The film was well received on the festival circuit and won the approval of several international critics: Jordan Hoffman at The Guardian calls it a ‘sweet, sad Turkish delight’, while Lenika Cruz at The Atlantic describes it as ‘a tender and fresh coming-of-age film’. In Turkey, the film’s reception was more lukewarm. As Kaya Genç writes in the Los Angeles Review of Books, ‘many in Turkey, both from the left and the right, have complained about the film’s perceived orientalism’, in particular the different accents of the girls and their captors. In Women’s eNews, Jennifer Hattam explores whether the portrayal of child brides and family dynamics in the film is an accurate reflection of the current situation in Turkey.

When a film provokes such a diverse set of reactions, the best thing to do is plop yourself down and watch it – it’s the only way to join the conversation. So UK residents, book your tickets today.

Click here for information on screening times and to purchase tickets.

In the first few minutes of Zeynep Kılıç’s documentary film Tables of Istanbul (Sofra Sofra İstanbul), she recalls how, early in their relationship, her now husband, Wayne, joked that if they were ever to break up, he needed the rights to her red pepper paste. The rich, slightly spicy paste – a staple ingredient in Turkish cuisine and the supporting actor that often steals the show – has a way of seducing the palate.

Kılıç and her husband, Wayne, in their home in Alaska

Tables of Istanbul represents an overlap of Kılıç’s professional work as a sociologist and her experience as an immigrant to the US who is passionate about cooking. Her main question in the film – ‘What is on the authentic Turkish table?’ – grew from her experience as a Turkish woman in the States, forging bonds with loved ones and reminiscing about her homeland over a dinner table full of Turkish dishes. Over the course of the film, her personal quest to better understand what comprises Turkish cuisine grows into a broader discussion of food production and consumption in Turkey, with a focus on its culinary heart, Istanbul.  

Using film as a medium was way outside of the academic’s comfort zone. So too was the personal nature of the project, which is firmly rooted in Kılıç’s own migration story. Yet both have their benefits. As Kılıç says, ‘Because food is such a universal topic, I wanted the project to reach as many people as possible.’ A short documentary film has the potential to reach a wider audience than, say, an article in an academic journal. Plus, while Turkish cuisine is the focus, one of the film’s themes is food as it relates to immigration, something that she believes people the world over can identify with.

Kılıç cooking Turkish food at her home in Alaska

The personal narrative grounds the film, providing necessary bookends to such a far-reaching investigation. In the opening shots, we get a glimpse of Kılıç’s life in Alaska – she relocated to the state for a much-coveted job in academia after completing her PhD in Arizona. Struggling to adjust to life in such a harsh climate, Kılıç wonders whether eating like a Turk in Alaska is absurd. This thought triggers a number of other considerations: that Kılıç’s Turkish identity becomes sharper in the kitchen; that the Turkish food she cooks for loved ones is her individual interpretation of the cuisine, influenced by her upbringing and taste; that maybe the idea of a ‘Turkish kitchen’ is just a jumble of clichés.

Kılıç in Istanbul. She was drawn to the city for her research on Turkish cuisine because of its cosmopolitanism

This line of questioning brings her to Istanbul, a culinary centre throughout history and a melting pot that is home to migrants from Turkey and abroad. While Kılıç never lived in Istanbul, she views the city as a microcosm of Turkey and the place where discourse is set. On its face, her question about the nature of authentic Turkish food seems too sweeping to answer in an hour documentary, not to mention a bit hackneyed. Yet it proves a jumping-off point to explore various aspects of Turkish cuisine with some of the biggest names in the food world, from academics to chefs and activists, as well as home cooks and the families they feed.

Şemsa Denizsel, the founder and owner of the Cornucopia-favourite Kantin, is featured in the film

What Kılıç finds is that Turkish cuisine, at least in Istanbul, is intertwined with geography and class. The experts she speaks to have different ideas – sometimes wildly so – on food in Istanbul, both past and present. That’s to be expected, as Kılıç tells me that she only wanted to talk to people who have a clear-cut point of view: ‘I wanted to learn and hear from them about their vision and their interpretation of what is going on in Istanbul today.’ She also breaks bread with families who migrated to Istanbul from Adıyaman and the Black Sea region, discussing food habits and their disinclination to try foods from different regions – it seems that everyone is looking for the tastes of home. Together, these snippets briefly touch on many issues related to food production and consumption, raising more questions than they answer.

Kılıç had dinner with the Polatdemir family – the mother (on the left) said that her children won’t eat dishes brought by neighbours from other regions because they are not used to the different tastes

Yet this film isn’t about answers. Rather, it provides a snapshot of the current state of affairs of the Istanbul food scene; it reveals the breadth of Turkish cuisine; and it hints that there is much more to be discovered regarding the intersection of food, class and geography.

Defne Koryürek, the founder of Slow Food Istanbul, is also featured in the film

When Kılıç began filming, she didn’t imagine it as a personal film – there were no plans for her to be in any shoots, or to include footage of her family. However, she eventually made the transition from having a question – as academics do – to crafting a story, and good that she did. Her personal narrative weaves a thread through the wide range of topics and perspectives covered in the film. At times the scope still manages to feel too broad, like one of those Istanbul restaurants with a 20-page menu. Yet this demonstrates how much there is to explore on the subject, especially as it relates to social class more so than identity. Kılıç plans to release an academic book based on her research and, while we always love a good film about Istanbul, we can’t wait to see her plumb the depths of this subject.

Zeynep Kılıç was able to make ‘Tables of Istanbul’ with the financial support of numerous institutions, including a grant from the Turkish Cultural Foundation. To learn more about future screenings and possible distribution, you can visit the film’s Facebook page and website. Click here to watch the trailer.

The main featured image is from Dârüzziyafe Restaurant in Istanbul. All photographs are from the film.

Contemplating the Istanbul skyline today, your gaze will most likely fall on slender minarets and hulking skyscrapers. Yet imagine an Istanbul where trees – yes, trees – dominated the horizon. It seems impossible now, what with all the çılgın projects of late, but this was the Istanbul (or rather Constantinople) that the avant-garde artist Mario Prassinos (1916–1985) knew as a child in the early 20th century. The six years he lived in the city left an impression on the artist, as Istanbulites will be able to appreciate at the Pera Museum’s new exhibition, Mario Prassinos: In Pursuit of an Artist, Istanbul-Paris-Istanbul, opening on May 25. The show is bringing the artist’s works back to Pera, his birthplace, on the centenary of his birth. 

Mario Prassinos in his studio in Eygalières, 1960 (Credit: Edward Quinn)

The trees of Istanbul are the focus of Prassinos’s celebrated Paysages Turcs (Turkish Landscapes) series, some of which will be on display at the Pera Museum. As he wrote in his semi-autobiographical book, The Tattooed Hill: ‘In these landscapes, there is always a tree or something resembling a tree or can be taken for a tree. This is a memory of childhood. The countryside around Constantinople is relatively flat and sprinkled with groups of isolated trees. I wanted to revisit the image of a horizon cut by a tree, a tree that stands against the light.’

‘Pèretextat, No. 19’, 1973, oil on canvas, 130 x 97 cm

This homecoming of sorts will also feature other works from the artist’s illustrious career in France, where he settled with his Greek-Italian parents after leaving Istanbul in 1922. Having become acquainted with some of the luminaries in the Surrealist movement such as Salvador Dalí and Man Ray in the 1930s, he began working in this style. Over time he shifted to a more realistic approach, while retaining Surrealist attributes such as automatism. Later in his career he focused more on family portraits, which resulted in the Pèretextat and Prétextats series, and from 1970 until his death in 1985, his work was grounded in trees, first with the Paysages Turcs paintings and then the series of Arbres (Trees), painted in oil on paper. Over the years Prassinos employed many different techniques, from painting to printmaking and illustrating, and the exhibition will reflect this variety, with paintings, book illustrations, tapestries, portraits and engravings on display.

‘Othello’, 1963, wool, low-warp tapestry, 120 x 145 cm

We have high hopes that Mario Prassinos: In Pursuit of an Artist, Istanbul-Paris-Istanbul will be an exemplary follow-up to the superb exhibition of Giorgio de Chirico’s works – both shows taking a Surrealist artist with connections to Istanbul and presenting a well-rounded retrospective of their work.

‘Mario Prassinos: In Pursuit of an Artist, Istanbul-Paris-Istanbul’ opens on Wednesday, May 25, and runs until Sunday, August 14.

Main featured image: ‘Trees’, 1984, oil on arches paper laid on canvas, 75.4 x 105.8 cm

Once in a while a curator with instinct and particular passion hits a mark. In Vinyl Icons: Persian Pop and Turkish Psychedelia, staged in Newcastle, in the heart of Britain’s northeast, Sara Makari-Aghdam uses the work of five contemporary artists to construct a celebration and reflection of a permissive past time, the 1960s and ’70s, in Iran and Turkey. 

The work in her Newcastle show is visually intoxicating,  but laced with intellect and wit and a big dollop of retro-pop nostalgia. The starting point is a collection of vintage Turkish and Iranian record covers and magazines, some from her own collection, others acquired on foraging trips to Paris, Istanbul and Izmir.   

In the first room of a well-known local art space, VANE, a Turkish album by Edip Akbayram with psychedelic cover goes corner to corner with the international classic, Pink Floyd's Dark side of the Moon. These often racy covers – the Turks went in for full and frank Western style calendar girls, with an Orientalist tinge, the Iranians were more cautious – They include this gloriously designed Cem Karaca single (above).    

Installation view. Photo: Cindy Zhang, Chia-Yin Chan

‘I love graphics, and I like the sound of the records, with instrumental as well as vocal, that they mix the traditional with what would have been the contemporary. There’s so much gossip around these pop singers. Although the covers look Orientalist (most prominently, with sultry belly-dancers) it was actually what they liked,’ she said.

Makari worked as a student curator at the Design Museum in London for part of her master's degree. Raised and based in Newcastle, of Azeri-Turkish, Persian and English descent, she keeps a wry eye on Western notions of the exotic. 

Installation view. Photo: Cindy Zhang, Chia-Yin Chan

Taking a leaf from the Britart artist Tracey Emin, Makari-Aghdam projects her own personality and obsessions into the show, though as curator rather than artist. It includes several dresses, hand-painted or printed in variations of Eastern styles, made to fit her (formerly) 20-inch waist. To one of her dresses she has affixed a chintzy camel broach by Christian Dior, ‘like a personal joke about exoticism’.

Images of the legendary Iranian singer Googoosh, Faegheh Atashin, are threaded through the exhibits.  For the contemporary work,  Makari selected five prominent Iranian artists, mostly now overseas. Photomontages by Afsoon feature Turkish singer Emel Sayın, hugely popular in Iran, and Iran’s Mahasti. The artist also constructed an original wall collage for the show.  

The artist Malekeh Nayiny takes old black and white family photographs and transforms them into ‘reinvented digital chromogenic prints’, colourful kitsch with shades of Andy Warhol and the 1950s look. The controversial Taravat Talepasand delivered a striking pair of gold lacquered boots,painted with the skills of an Isfahan miniature painter.  

This show, due to close on June 4, took a year of work and cries out for a second outing. Makari-Aghdam says she has been approached with interest by a curator at the Pera Museum; for an Istanbul exhibition she would look to recruit Turkish artists, and with luck recreate this deeply intriguing show to a similar standard.

Like several of her artists, Makari is of the younger post-Revolution generation,  and she sadly has yet to visit Iran.  Her Azeri father moved to Britain in the mid 1970s to train as an engineer. ‘We all seem to be obsessed with an era, an image of something, whether it’s real or something of nostalgia with rose-tinted glasses,’ she says.  ‘It makes for a really interesting story anyway.’

From the mouth open wide in mid-guffaw to the two fingers softly securing a cigarette, Ozan Sağdıç’s 1961 photograph ‘Diplomats’ demonstrates how the human form can encompass just as wide and varied a topography as any landscape. Sağdıç is one of the 80 photographers whose work is on display in Istanbul Modern’s new exhibition People Attract People, which presents Turkey from the early years of the republic to today through photographs of its people. 

The exhibition, which opens on June 2, can present 80 years’ worth of photographs thanks in large part to the work of Othmar Pferschy, whose archives were donated to Istanbul Modern by his daughter Astrid von Schell in 2005. As Norman Stone wrote in Issue 35, Pferschy betook himself to Istanbul in 1926 purely for professional reasons, ‘simply to photograph an interesting country at an interesting time’. He eventually became one of the leading documentary photographers in the Republican era, introducing the process of state-building in Turkey to an international audience.

Othmar Pferschy, ‘The call of the youth’, Ankara, 1936

Istanbul Modern staged his first-ever retrospective in 2006, a show that revealed Pferschy’s brilliance. The current exhibition, however, specifically utilises his work involving people, like the above photograph ‘The call of the youth’. Taken in Ankara in 1936, it presents a seemingly endless line of young men in matching uniforms – a representation of how the homogenised mass, rather than the individual, took precedence in the fledgling nation state.

Yet this exhibition travels beyond Turkey’s early years, giving equal wall space to contemporary artists. Oya Eczacıbaşı, Chair of the Board of Istanbul Modern, remarks that the show ‘features photographs reflecting different periods, contexts and perspectives, and harmoniously juxtaposes a snapshot taken 80 years ago with one from three years ago’.

Tahir Ün, ‘Vardiya Sonu’ (‘End of Shift’), Soma, 2014

Tahir Ün’s 2014 work ‘Vardiya Sonu’ (‘End of Shift’) presents a close-up of a miner from Soma, presumably after a shift searching for survivors of the devastating mine explosion that killed over 300 men. The opaque, reflective nature of one of his lenses reminds the viewer that these portraits do more than reveal something about the subject – they also reflect the photographer’s relationship with people, specifically those of Turkey. The various complexities and layers of human life and connection are laid bare for all to see.

‘People Attract People’ runs from June 2 until December 18. The exhibition is curated by Merih Akoğul and features a selection from the ever-growing Istanbul Modern Photography Collection.

Main featured image: Ozan Sağdıç, ‘Diplotmalar’ (‘Diplomats’), 1961

My visit to the Vitali Hakko Creative Industries Library coincided with the last truly cold day of spring – a frigid wind whipped off the Bosphorus, pushing the rain sideways such that no umbrella could prevent it from stinging my face. The normally suffocating humidity of the metro bus was a welcome reprieve. Disembarking at Altunizade, perched high above Üsküdar, I cursed my stubborn devotion to public transportation and began a chilly walk through underpasses, around construction zones and alongside zooming cars.

Copyright: Iwan Baan

Yet as I rounded a corner onto another busy street in Nakkaştepe, the translucent glass walls of the Vakko Fashion Center (which also functions as the headquarters of Power Media, Vakko’s sister company) greeted me like a geometric beacon. A warm yellow glow radiated through the ultra-thin sheath of glass covering the exterior, which you could almost mistake for cling film if it weren’t for the structural ‘X’ slumped into each pane. Once inside, the mirror-glass of the lobby’s sloping ceiling reflected the rain-stained black stone walkway and the ring of water that circles the outside of the building like a small moat – I felt as if I were surrounded by water without getting a drop on me. The offices located one floor above were fashionably understated; in each room a single painting adorned one of the tan-coloured wooden walls, illuminated by floor-to-ceiling windows.

The lobby of the building has a kaleidoscopic effect (Source: New York Architects)

My ultimate destination, however, was decidedly more subterranean. The Vitali Hakko Creative Industries Library is on the basement floor of this state-of-the-art structure, sharing the space with an auditorium, a small museum and a plush cafeteria. Truth be told, it was soothing to be underground on such a horrid day –as soon as I stepped into the library, I was reminded of Mole’s cosy burrow in The Wind in the Willows.

A long, slanted table sits in the centre of the library (Source: Vakko)

The curator of the library, Begüm Başoğlu, toured me around the book-lined lair.  A single rectangle-shaped room, the library has bookshelves covering each wall and a long, slanted reading table in the centre that is flanked on either end by two free-standing bookcases. What struck me as I padded around the perimeter, pulling out books, was the breadth of material available. With titles ranging from Sephardi Jews in the Ottoman Empire to Men in Skirts and How To Read Contemporary Art, the collection is not confined to fashion, although that may be the focus. Equal shelf space is dedicated to books on anthropology, interior design, architecture, contemporary art and photography, among other subjects.

Such a cultivated and varied collection is a fitting tribute to Vitali Hakko. This is the man who not only grew a small millinery shop called Şen Şapka (‘Merry Hats’) into one of the biggest fashion brands in Turkey, reshaping the retail business landscape in Turkey along the way, but was also insatiably curious. ‘He was immersed in culture and the arts, maintaining friendships with many artists,’ explained Başoğlu, whose former role as fashion editor led her to work closely with Hakko during the last two years of his life. ‘And he always wanted to know more… he felt that he could learn something from everyone.’

A work by Jale Yılmabaşar that is installed in the basement of the building (Source: Dilek Aydıncıoğlu)

To understand Hakko’s passion for the arts, look no further than the Vakko factory that was built in Merter in the 1960s. To the incredulity of many at the time, Hakko had artwork installed throughout the building – which housed both the factory and management offices – based on his belief that fashion and art must always be conjoined, as they had been over the course of history. When Vakko outgrew its space in Merter and it was decided to separate production and management into different buildings, some of those pieces were removed and installed at the Fashion Center, which was designed by the New York firm REX and opened in 2010. As we toured the building, Başoğlu pointed out works by Burhan Doğançay, Jale Yılmabaşar, Sabri Berkel and Bedri Rahmi Eyüboğlu.

Nevzat Yüzbaşıoğlu’s work ‘Sessiz Devinim’ is the showpiece of the library (Source: Vakko)

In the centre of the library itself is a large work by Nevzat Yüzbaşıoğlu titled ‘Sessiz Devinim’ (‘Silent Motion’). The non-figurative abstract piece, its swirls in shades of tan and brown lit by the skylight located directly above, is the focal point of the room. As I sat reading, it provided a nice spot to rest my eyes while contemplating the book I had pulled off the shelves, Kilim: The Complete Guide.

Having lived in Istanbul for over four years, I had forgotten the joy of a peaceful, quiet library. ‘In Turkey, people don’t use libraries very often, unless they’re in school,’ said Başoğlu. ‘It’s difficult to access resources like these. And for free? Impossible! So the family decided to build a library in honour of Vitali after he passed away in 2007, especially since he had been so supportive of education during his life.’ Başoğlu, who had always harboured a fascination with books and publishing (and is now a published author), was tasked with building a collection from scratch. Fashion may be the focus, but Başoğlu wanted to incorporate a wide range of creative subjects into the library. ‘We wanted to serve students pursuing their PhDs and a housewife who is looking to redecorate her house… I think both groups can benefit from going outside of their fields to find inspiration. The library allows them to explore and learn from other disciplines.’

Begüm Başoğlu, the curator of the library (Source: Vakko)

Since opening in 2012, the library has served patrons of all sorts. Yet when I took an informal survey of friends and acquaintances, not many had heard of it. ‘We rely on word of mouth,’ explained Başoğlu. ‘We’re after quality, not quantity.’ It’s true that the library – despite having over 15,000 volumes – is compact, which is why visiting is by appointment only.  ‘Sometimes we have 30 students in the library… I wouldn’t want someone to drop by on that day and be disappointed with their experience, especially if they made an effort to get here. It’s not too difficult to write an e-mail, and visitors don’t have to provide any reason for why they want to come.’

When it came time to leave, I didn’t want to go – I felt like I had just skimmed the surface, both of the book I was reading and the library itself. While it’s not possible to check out books, this is ultimately a minor inconvenience. Başoğlu put it best: ‘There’s a metaphor I like for libraries, it says that you come to the library with your container. The size is totally up to you… you can come with a glass or a truck, but there is always enough to fill it up.’ Next time, I’ll be sure to come with a bigger vessel, as my glass was overflowing.

The Vitali Hakko Creative Industries Library is open between 10.00 and 17.30 on weekdays. Please call +90 216 554 08 54 or e-mail kutuphane@vakko.com.tr to make an appointment. Click here to search the collection before visiting.

Visit REX’s website to learn more about the process of designing and building this innovative building.

The wavy stem of a tulip, the fanning of a carnation, the lattice pattern created by delicate peony blossoms… the floral motifs of classical Ottoman silks are simply sumptuous. No wonder they were the dress of choice for the Sultans, who commissioned teams of weavers trained in the art of silk hand weaving to create opulent (and immensely valuable) kaftans. Normally the finest examples of these textiles are locked away in museums, where they’re sometimes on view behind thick panes of glass. Yet Ros Pollock (pictured above) and Carol Karadag, the two British women behind Ottoman Silks, are bringing these luminous garments back to life and putting them into the hands of customers in the UK and beyond through their new joint label with Glyndebourne.

The inspiration for Ottoman Silks came to Pollock after she moved to Ankara in 2011. Noticing the ubiquity of tulips and carnations, as well as other floral motifs, in Turkish design, she began to dig deeper into their history, getting a crash course in Ottoman textiles. She devoured Ipek: Crescent and Rose, a magnificent (and now sadly out of print) book by Nurhan Atasoy, Walter B Denny, Louise W Mackie and Hülya Tezcan, and back issues of Cornucopia (particularly Issue 34, Ottoman Kaftans), and marvelled at the traditional Ottoman textiles sewn by women at the Ankara Olgunlaşma Institute, a vocational training school founded in 1945 for girls and women of all ages.

The Ayse fabric has alternating plain and floral vertical bands of tulips and carnations framed by double gold stripes

‘It was then that I thought, somebody, somewhere must be making and selling these designs. I went to Istanbul and made contacts at the Grand Bazaar, but realised after a year that no one was doing Ottoman designs in silk. True, Armaggan sells handwoven silk kaftans. But buying a kaftan at that price point is like buying art – it’s not necessarily something you could wear,’ explains Pollock, who now lives in the UK. 

Despite no former experience in the textile business, Pollock and Karadag were able to search out one of the top quality producers in Turkey, Persan, and convince them to weave their designs at a mill in Bursa, Turkey’s silk capital. After speaking to Sibel Alpaslan Arca, the curator of the of Sultans’ Costumes Collection at Topkapı Palace Museum, to make sure the colours were correct, their Ottoman-inspired silk fabric was finally ready to be woven.

The Feriye jacket in Saliha fabric

The end result was better than they could have imagined – Arca at Topkapı was thrilled to see the historical designs reproduced using modern techniques and congratulated the duo on producing such a high-quality textile (although Pollock notes that they have ‘the great advantage of using jacquard looms’). The experience also demonstrated to Pollock the ‘exceptional quality of fabric that can be produced in Turkey’. As she explains, ‘There is the snob value of fabrics from Europe, but what many people don’t realize is that a lot of the European fabrics are made in Turkey.’

From their luxurious, Ottoman-style fabrics, Pollock and Karadag have fashioned kaftans, shoes, handbags and waistcoats, as well as other accessories. Of these, a bespoke collection of kaftans (opera coats) and handbags are available at Glyndebourne. The joint label is a match made in heaven – Glyndebourne is an independent and privately funded opera house founded by John Christie and his opera singer wife, Audrey Mildmay, while Ottoman Silks’ kaftans are the perfect statement piece for a night at the opera.

Yeni Nilufer is one of the fabrics in the new contemporary colour range, which are intended for interior design

The duo has also begun manufacturing fabrics to be used in interior design. These fabrics still have the traditional Ottoman motifs, but are reproduced in such shades as ivory, charcoal and oyster to make them more compatible with modern interiors. What’s more, they’ve recently put out a line of ottomans (the furniture, not the people) that are handmade in England with horsehair, beechwood and their traditional Ottoman textiles. Talk about a conversation piece!

The Pasha ottoman adds a burst of colour to your living room

Getting people to understand that there is more to the word ‘Ottoman’ than the stool is one of the biggest challenges facing Pollock. ‘It’s frightening how ignorant Brits are about the Ottoman Empire,’ she says. With these gorgeous textiles, Pollock is trying to weave a tale of Ottoman wealth and power, and the role of silk in the Empire. As she explains, ‘I’m selling something that is beautiful, but it’s not just a purse with a pretty design. There’s also a fantastic story behind it.’

Visit Glyndebourne to shop the bespoke Ottoman Silks collection and the Ottoman Silks website to purchase all clothes, accessories and fabrics. You can also follow Ottoman Silks on Facebook and Twitter. Ottoman Silks will also be exhibiting their wares at Spirit of Summer Fair, which will be held at Olympia, London from June 22–25.

Anyone who has tried their hand at learning Ottoman, the hybrid of Turkish, Arabic and Persian that served as the official and literary language of the Ottoman Empire, is like to have encountered James Redhouse’s Turkish and English Lexicon (1890). I picked up my copy in Istanbul the summer before my second and final year in a Middle Eastern Studies MA programme. Lugging it back to Chicago, I became acutely aware that this heavy tome, all 2224 pages of it, was going to train me in more ways than one. 

While scouring the dictionary is a right of passage – I spent many nights flicking through the thin, silky pages in search of words both common and obscure – there are times, especially if you’re working with handwritten Ottoman documents, when it is of little help. But rather than throw your hands up in defeat, you can now open your computer and visit Lexiqamus, a new website that’s a godsend to researchers. 

What makes Lexiqamus different from an online Ottoman dictionary (like, for example, Osmanlıca Sözlükler) is that it allows you to search for words with missing or unclear letters. Moreover, the search function works even if letters are missing from the beginning or middle of the word, as opposed to the end, which is more often an issue of discerning case or verb endings rather than the word itself. A term that otherwise would have taken you days to find searching through various dictionaries, Lexiqamus can provide at the click of a button. The website, created by Ahmet Abdullah, draws from all the major Ottoman dictionaries, including Redhouse’s tour de force.

Studying the Ottoman language and working with handwritten Ottoman documents is no walk in the park. Thankfully, today's online resources are making it easier for researchers to plumb the depths of the rich archival material from the Ottoman period that's available.

The trigger that caused Turkey to be dragged unwillingly into the First World War was when Germany, unbidden, sent two battleships to replace two dreadnoughts that Britain had confiscated. Details of the events and the diplomatic exchanges between Russia, Constantinople and London that led to this historic moment lie in The National Archives at Kew. Justin Olmstead, Assistant Professor of History at the University of Central Oklahoma, spent four solid weeks “without a lunch break” combing the archives to unravel the story, presenting his results in a talk at the archives at Kew yesterday.

The seized ships, Reshadieh and Sultan Osman I, had, with British encouragement, been ordered and paid for by the Ottoman government and were built by Armstrong Whitworth in Newcastle. Just before their launch in the summer of 1914 Winston Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty, ordered the vessels to be requisitioned without compensation, which particularly angered the people of Turkey as they had been paid for by voluntary public subscription. The seizure of assets belonging to a country with whom Britain was not at war had no legal basis, and the memos from the archive show the search for a justification in the lead up to the decision. Ultimately, they settled on the catch-all Salus populi suprema lex esto — the good of the nation is above the law.

The talk was introduced by Dr Juliette Desplat, a French Middle-East specialist who speaks Turkish and Arabic, and can read Ottoman Turkish. Articles on her National Archives blog are based on documents in the collection, such as the Sykes-Picot Agreement, signed 100 years ago in May.

(Pictured above is Reşadiye, requisitioned for the Royal Navy and renamed HMS Erin. Sultan Osman I was named HMS Agincourt. Both ships saw action and survived the First World War.)

I hear ‘Harem’, İnci Eviner’s 2009 single-channel video work currently on display at Istanbul Modern, before I see it. A large thunderclap reverberates across the exhibition space, followed in quick succession by the humdrum din of a crowd at work: coughing, papers being shuffled, a woman’s voice, the beat of what sounds like a towering clock that could just as easily be a blacksmith methodically hammering iron.

Antoine Ignace Melling, Voyage pittoresque de Constantinople et des Rives du Bosphore; No.14 Intérieur d'une partie du Harem du Grand Seigneur, 1811 (Source: V&A)

Yet the identity of each individual noise is inconsequential; as a whole, the soundtrack suggests activity. Indeed, the introduction of sound marks a turning point in the video, when the tiny figures in Antoine Ignace Melling’s black-and-white engraving of the harem are erased and replaced by women whom Eviner has filmed. Wearing monochrome pants and tops resembling hospital scrubs, each woman is in motion, their movements jerky and amorphous, at times even wild. Eviner animates the static figures that Melling portrayed with an almost scientific precision in the vast and multi-storeyed wooden harem of his imagination. (During the 18 years he served as Imperial Architect under Sultan Selim III in the late 18th century, Melling made many detailed drawings of the Sultan’s palaces and Ottoman society, yet he was never permitted to enter the harem.)

It was Eviner’s intention, as expressed in her accompanying text, to ‘free these frozen women from the state of being objects of information, to cause them to regain their own voices and to force them to reveal their secrets’. With a degree of intervention, ‘these women, imprisoned by the painter’s scientific skill, can reveal the self-seeking relationships underlying the duality of truth and fantasy’.

Istanbul Modern’s İnci Eviner Retrospective exhibition, suitably subtitled ‘Who’s Inside You?’, is teeming with works that challenge typical representations of women and womanhood, raise questions of identity, and draw connections between nature and the human subconscious. The open-plan design of the exhibition space combined with the decision not to present her works chronologically create an environment where Eviner’s unique visual language, developed over time and articulated in various ways, can emerge. It’s almost as if her drawings, paintings, videos, photographs and sculptures, produced over the course of nearly 40 years, merge together into one single, immersive installation.

‘Framed Childhood I’, 2006, digital print, 67 x 50 cm, 50 x 67 cm, 50 x 67 cm, artist’s collection

A large portion of Eviner’s work confronts and subverts the ways that girls and women have been traditionally represented. In three digital prints titled ‘Framed Childhood I’ (2006), the face, hair and hand of a young girl named Merve are thrust through a kidney-shaped hole cut in a white sheet of paper, creating the illusion that her face is looking out from the canvas rather than being reflected on it. This twist on portraiture captures a face full of despair and hope, a heady mix typical of girlhood.

Other works focus on the female body, with an emphasis on deconstructing the sexualised image of women created by and for the male gaze. In its place, Eviner presents womanhood as a field of limitless possibility, exploring the quotidian gestures of women and their memorised behavioural models. The resulting works tell surreal stories, many of which are populated by strange beings that are part-animal and part-human, emphasising the thin civilisational line that separates us from beasts. 

‘The Joy of Marie-Louise O’Murphy’, 2012, acrylic and silkscreen on canvas, 159 x 203 cm, Erol Tabanca Collection

In ‘The Joy of Marie-Louise O’Murphy’ (2012), the artist depicts hummingbirds whose bottom halves have been replaced by the sensuous legs of Marie-Louise O’Murphy, one of the lesser mistresses of King Louis XV of France, as portrayed in an 18th-century nude by François Boucher. These half-hummingbird, half-woman creatures are flitting around flowers whose black-and-white petals drip down the canvas; some even seem to be drinking nectar. The distortion is absurd at first glance – removed from their original erotic context, O’Murphy’s legs are still suggestive, but uncomfortably so, attached as they are to the bodies of birds and pointing in all directions. Yet the longer I stare, the grotesque qualities of these creatures fade, and all that is left is the sublime.

‘Defeated Icarus’, 1997, ink on paper, 152 x 101 cm, artist’s collection

Eviner’s sweeping black lines construct a visual language rich in art historical allegories, iconographies and mythologies. In ‘Defeated Icarus’ (1997), an ink drawing on paper, the son of Daedalus is reduced to a pair of legs, to which his melting wings are attached. The position of his straight legs – the viewer is looking at them from behind – conveys weakness, while the thick, dark line running across the top of his buttocks and under his legs upends any semblance of the pictorial plane. The drawing creates a mesmerising sense of unease.

‘Body Geography, Desert’, 1995, copper, acrylic, asphalt and leather on plywood, 260 x 210 cm, Istanbul Museum of Modern Art Collection

The desire to dismantle the human body and its representation in art also seeped into Eviner’s work in other mediums such as sculpture and photography. As Nazlı Gürlek explains in her article ‘İnci Eviner: Theatre of the Unmentionable’ for Art Asia Pacific, the artist’s studio was located in Tarlabaşı during the 1990s. Witnessing ‘life on the margins’ led Eviner to experiment ‘with acrylic paints and copper depicting disembodied clothes, disconnected heads and limbs painted on triangular plates of plywood, in works like ‘Body Geography’ (1993), and sculptural objects made in fortified leather such as ‘Skinless’ (1996)’.

‘Hold’, 1995

Her sculpture ‘Hold’ (1995), in which exaggerated body parts made from fortified leather are hung across a large white wall in no apparent pattern, is also from this time period (and one of my favourites from the show). With tiny hands protruding from various gaps, the ghostly body parts look almost like clothing items, raising the question of what can be found inside.

A close-up of ‘Nowhere-Body-Here’, 2000, C-Print, 125 x 254 cm, artist’s collection

A similar thread can be seen in Eviner’s photography series ‘Nowhere-Body-Here’ (2000). One photograph in particular features an albino girl grasping onto the back of a man cloaked in black. The bottom half of her body is missing – she is a free-floating entity in a harsh landscape. These vanishing limbs speak to the artist’s desire to question how we view not just outsiders but also their bodies.

‘Arthur Rimbaud’, 2005, ink on paper, 174 x 107 cm, artist’s collection

Despite her exceptional use of other mediums, Eviner is at her most compelling when working with lines. For the artist, drawing is her way of ‘discovering and understanding the world’, as quoted in the exhibition’s accompanying text. This is punctuated by the inclusion of Eviner’s sketches inspired by the Darülaceze Institution, a public hospice for the elderly and disabled that she discovered while a student at the State Academy of Fine Arts. As the curator and Istanbul Modern Director Levent Çalıkoğlu explains in the wall panel, this opportunity allowed Eviner to ‘explore and try out her own possibilities and impossibilities in the face of established doctrine’. It also exposed her to a group of outsiders who were on the fringe of so-called ‘normal’ society. For me, these sketches provide a fascinating insight to the artist’s rich search for expression, starting with the deceptively simple task of making the line and body become one.

‘İnci Eviner Retrospective: Who’s Inside You?’ is on display at Istanbul Modern until November 27.

On September 11, 1683, Grand Vizier Kara Mustafa Pasha sat in his ostentatious tent outside the walls of Vienna – as the story goes – luxuriously sipping coffee while taking a break from besieging the city. The sight of the Grand Vizier’s unapologetic display of pure decadence apparently so enraged Polish King Jan III Sobieski, who was leading Europe’s allied forces against the invading Turks, that he rallied his troops and vanquished the would-be conquerors the very next day.¹ Of course, after the battle, the Polish King took the beautifully decorated tents for himself.

Though the Ottomans lost this particular battle, and with it many beautiful tents, Ottoman imperial tents are to this day often associated with great conquerors and military commanders. But these portable shelters were much more than colourful backdrops for military campaigns. As Nurhan Atasoy has shown,² the imperial tent complex, or otağ-ı hümayun, served as a multi-functional mobile palace on various occasions. And these ornate, appliquéd, embroidered and beautifully furnished fabric buildings also visually resembled their more permanent palatial wooden or stone counterparts. But which palaces? Given that the 16th and 17th centuries are considered the height of Ottoman tent production, the palace most often cited in comparison is quite naturally Topkapı. However, imperial tents continued to be used and made in the late Ottoman period, alongside the construction of the great seaside palaces and ornate pavilions across the more suburban areas of the city.

Researching for my dissertation, titled ‘Flexible Façades, Malleable Modernity: Imperial Tents in the Late Ottoman Period’, has brought me to many museums, libraries and archives in Turkey and beyond, and yet the only place to view 19th-century Ottoman imperial tents is the Military Museum in Harbiye.³ One marquee in particular stands out as a masterpiece of textile art and architecture of the so-called ‘Turkish Baroque’ style. The inscription stitched into the fabric dates the tent to 1809 (1224 AH) and names the sultan to whom it belonged: Mahmud II, also known as ‘The Reformer’.

In many ways, the interior decoration is not dissimilar to its 17th-century counterparts. The walls are divided by a series of appliquéd arches, topped with silken capitals. Between the columns are lobed medallions (şemse), and the underside of the sloping roof is dominated by a massive roundel.

However, the addition of rather a lot of metallic embroidery is quite novel for the time. When erected in a suburban meadow or the palace gardens, the whole interior undoubtedly would have sparkled and shone in the sunlight as the fabric moved and undulated in the wind. The colour palette of soft gold, powder blue, sage green and rosy pink is also new in tent art, and is reminiscent of the painted decoration adorning the interiors of 19th-century palaces and kiosks, such as Beylerbeyi Sarayı or Ihlamur Kasrı. There are also direct references to recognisable buildings in the imperial capital, such as the Maiden’s Tower (Kız Külesi – see main featured image).

A section of the 360-degree embroidered panorama can be seen here on the lower edge of the tent's eave

In fact, the whole of Istanbul is presented in miniature by way of a full 360-degree embroidered panorama situated below the ceiling and eave of the tent. The scene moves from rolling hills to kiosks along the shore, and even depicts colourful tents erected in the countryside. In this way the tent does more than reference contemporaneous permanent architecture in its overall decoration. It also provides a snapshot of 19th-century Istanbul, bringing to life a part of the built environment now lost to people exploring the city and its architectural heritage.

1. Paul Sobolewski, The 12th Day of September, 1883, Is the 200th Anniversary of One of the Grandest Events in History: John Sobieski, the King of Poland, Conquers the Turks Under the Walls of Vienna September 12-Th, 1683, and Forever After Relieves the Whole Christian World from the Iron Yoke of the Turks (Chicago: “Gazeta Polska” Print, 1883), 22.

2. Nurhan Atasoy, Otağ-ı Hümayun: The Ottoman Imperial Tent Complex (Istanbul: MEPA, 2000).

3. The permanent tent galleries in the Military Museum have been temporarily closed for repairs.

Ashley Dimmig is a PhD Candidate in the History of Art Department at the University of Michigan. She was the 2015–2016 Ekrem Hakkı Ayverdi Fellow in Ottoman Architectural Culture and History at the Anadolu Medeniyetleri Araştırma Merkezi (ANAMED), Koç University. Dimmig was the winner of the Godfrey Goodwin Award in 2010 for her research on Safavid figurative silks (applications are now open for the 10th Ancient & Modern Prize). All photos were taken by Dimmig.

‘Found objects’ is a new blog series where young scholars share objects and documents found during the course of their research.

When making plans for the autumn, artists would do well to consider the following two funding opportunities.

The first is the winter 2016 instalment of the Moon and Stars Project grants, a programme organised and funded by the American Turkish Society. In a bid to support both emerging and established artists and to establish cultural interaction between the United States and Turkey, the American Turkish Society awards competitive grants for artist residencies and a wide range of Turkish-related art projects, from dance festivals to book translations and art exhibitions.

There are some important criteria to consider. Applicants for residency grants must provide an invitation letter from an arts and culture organisation in Turkey or the United States. Project grants in support of travel and accommodation costs are only extended to projects that will be exhibited in the US. Due to limited resources, funding is not offered for film production, education programmes or attendance at biennials. The amount of each grant is determined by the project's scope, the availability of total funds, and the number of projects selected. Visit the American Turkish Society website to learn more about the required application materials and to download the application, which must be submitted by July 31.

The second opportunity is a more traditional artist residency. The Turkey–Scandinavia Connections 2016, organised by Kultivera in association with Wexford Arts Centre and Write4Word, is now accepting applications for its artist-in-residence programme, which will run from October 17 until November 15 in a small Swedish town. The application deadline is August 1.

In this residency, four contemporary artists and curators from Turkey and Scandinavia will be given the time and space to exchange and explore ideas, and expand their networks. Moreover, they will bring socially and critically engaging contemporary work to the local community. The residency is open to all forms of contemporary art practice, and emerging and mid-career artists and curators are strongly encouraged to apply. Visit the Kultivera website for more information on the residency and application requirements.

Bodrum may not be the most isolated holiday spot in Turkey, but the peninsula boasts some quiet retreats, like the small fishing village of Gümüşlük. Far away from the hustle and bustle of Bodrum Marina, the sleepy town is brought to life each summer by the Gümüşlük Classical Music Festival, which is run by Eren Levendoğlu. What began as a series of concerts in 2004 has morphed into an international festival that attracts established and up-and-coming artists alike.

The ancient stone quarry in Koyunbaba provides a dramatic backdrop

While the festival is still offering its bread and butter – classical music performed in historic settings like the magnificent ancient stone quarry in Koyunbaba, the same quarry from which King Mausolos collected the stones for his palace and mausoleum – it’s also broadening its horizons with regard to venues and musical genres. This year there will also be ‘Jazz on the Water’ and ‘Guitar on the Sand’ in addition to ‘Classical on the Rocks’.

Running from July 3 until August 11, the festival is already underway – the pianist (and an artistic advisor to the festival) Gülsin Onay and her son, the violinist Erkin Onay, kicked things off in a rousing performance at the Dibeklihan Culture and Arts Village on the 3rd.

Emin Fındıkoğlu, a piano virtuoso

If you happen to be vacationing in Bodrum sometime in the next month, we highly recommend that you take in one of the many concerts on offer. The classical programme is strong, as to be expected. The violinist Ayla Erduran (main image, taken by Eliza Day at the Narmanlı Han in 1964) will take the stage with the pianist Stephane Blet in what is sure to be a display of technical brilliance and magnificent lyricisim. If jazz is your bag, the pianist and composer Emin Fındıkoğlu, one of the big names on Turkey’s jazz scene, will play with his young and dynamic big band on August 5. For guitar lovers, Golfam Khayam will perform with the clarinettist Mona Matbou Riahi on July 24 – known as the Naqsh Duo, their aim is to produce a unique blend of Persian and contemporary music.

There is also an educational component to the festival: over the course of the summer, various master classes run at the Gümüşlük Festival Academy. The aim is to create a relaxed environment where teachers and students feel comfortable interacting and collaborating. At the end of the class, the students perform in a group concert. To see the full programme of student recitals, please click here. 

All tickets are 30 TL and can be purchased from Biletix. For concerts at the antique stone quarry, tickets can be purchased at the festival headquarters from 10.00 until 20.00. On the night of the concert, ticket sales at the office end at 17.00, but tickets will be on sale at the quarry beginning at 19.00, two hours before the start of the show. For ticket enquiries, please call +90 538 032 94 41.

All sorts of sounds – the crack of batá drums, the deep notes of a double bass drawn out with a bow, the deafening reverberations of a horn section going full tilt, to name a few – filled the garden of the old Beykoz shoe factory last night. Yet the highlight of the evening’s performances by Ibeyi and Kamasi Washington, who were brought to Istanbul under the auspices of the 23rd Istanbul Jazz Festival organised by IKSV, was something deceptively simple: harmony.

It was hard to pinpoint the best moment of Ibeyi’s performance, as the French-Cuban twin sisters Lisa-Kaindé Diaz (lead vocals and piano) and Naomi Diaz (backup vocals and percussion) shone from the second they strolled on stage. The duo were faced with the difficult task of warming up a distracted crowd – many were stuck in endless queues for food and drink, and those who were ready for the show to start sat placidly on blankets spread over the ground, looking more prepared for a laid-back acoustic guitar set than an electrifying group with a beat-heavy sound.

Naomi sitting atop her cajón, with the batá drums pictured behind her

Despite this tall order, Ibeyi’s haunting percussion and powerful vocals brought the crowd to their feet and even had them singing in call and response. What linked each song, from the big production hits like ‘River’ and ‘Chains’ to traditional Yoruba melodies sung a cappella while facing one another (main image), was the sisters’ harmonising. As someone who grew on the periphery of a hymn-heavy church community, I’m acutely aware of the sublime simplicity of singing in two- or four-part harmony, even more so because I lack the skills to do so on demand. When the twins sang together, usually with Naomi harmonising to Lisa-Kaindé’s melody, the pitch-perfect mingling of their voices seemed as natural as breathing. By the end of their set I felt as if I were floating down a river, buoyed by powerful, silky vocals and pushed gently forward by the steady rat-a-tat-tat of Naomi’s cajón, a Peruvian box-shaped percussion instrument.

Patrice Quinn added a spiritual element to Kamasi Washington’s performance

While Ibeyi’s music vibrated with energy, the saxophonist Kamasi Washington and his seven-piece band came out roaring. The first song, ‘Aşkım’ (Kamasi apparently had a Turkish beloved at some point), expertly combined loud brass – the trombonist Ryan Porter played alongside Washington – with Patrice Quinn’s impassioned, if sometimes hard-to-hear vocals and the funky, synth-like rifts of keyboardist Brandon Coleman.

The horns harmonising (left, Kamasi Washington, right, Ryan Porter)

Yet again, what stood out amongst this multi-faceted, big-band sound was the way the brass section, rounded out by Washington’s father, Ricky Washington, on soprano saxophone, harmonised, creating even more layers for the listener to discover. Almost every song was built around Kamasi’s saxophone – it was the gravitational centre of this particular musical galaxy. He was even able to achieve that rare feat in Turkey – a silent audience – during his moving opening to ‘Malcolm’s Theme’, an emotional composition that ended with Patrice screaming out in anguish. 

Kamasi enjoying a solo by one of his band mates

The group continued to gain momentum as they cycled through songs that highlighted the individual talents of each member, from the song written by Ryan, the trombonist, for his daughter to an improvisation piece where the two drummers, Tony Austin and Robert Miller, were in conversation with one another solely through their instruments. It was refreshing to see a bandleader so supportive of his fellow band mates – a look of pure joy would cross Kamasi’s face, or his brow would scrunch in appreciation when one of the other group members played a particularly spectacular solo.

Kamasi carried the show

While Kamasi surrounded himself with excellent musicians, he was always the beating heart of the group. With his saxophone, at times playful, at others sombre, he deftly steered his band on a journey through the world of jazz, hip-hop, soul and even rap. This trip ended with ‘The Rhythm Changes’, a song that began with a solo on the saxophone but quickly expanded to include staccato drums, harmonising horns, bubblegum rifts on the keyboard and Patrice singing out, ‘I’m here’ over and over in an extravagant crescendo. As Kamasi stood with his fist in the air, the crowd crowed with delight.

Both Ibeyi and Kamasi Washington bend the boundaries of jazz, creating music that makes you question the necessity of genre. Yet their appeal is also firmly rooted in the simple pleasure of harmony. Similarly, IKSV searches out experimental and innovative acts for the Istanbul Jazz Festival, while at the same time relying on a basic formula: talented musicians paired with unique venues. It’s no wonder this long-running festival goes from strength to strength.

The 23rd Istanbul Jazz Festival continues until July 25. Click here to see the remaining programme. We at Cornucopia are particularly excited to see Laura Mvula and Jacob Collier perform on July 22 (editor’s note: unfortunately, it looks as if Laura Mvula will be unable to perform) and Allan Harris, Roy Hargrove and Roberta Gambarini perform with the TRT Big Band on July 25 to close the festival.

Due to the events of July 15, a number of performances have been cancelled or postponed. Click here to see the full list of changes.

All photos provided by IKSV.

As we’ve experienced in Istanbul this summer, music can provide a welcome distraction and act as a soothing balm. Yet it can also serve a deeper purpose, for both listeners and musicians. The Turkish National Youth Philharmonic Orchestra, or Türkiye Gençlik Filarmoni Orkestrası (TGFO), spearheaded by the acclaimed Turkish conductor Cem Mansur, hits on both of these points: talented young musicians make classical music that enchants listeners while simultaneously learning how music functions as a social tool. 

Founded by Mansur in 2007, the orchestra consists of approximately 100 members between the ages of 14 and 28. Each year auditions are held at the established conservatories in Adana, Ankara, Antalya, Bursa, Edirne, Eskişehir, Izmir, Istanbul and Mersin, and from this lot the most promising young musicians are chosen.

The selected musicians then travel to Istanbul for an intense series of rehearsals and programming (this year from July 9–27). Not only are they individually taught by some of the best classical musicians in Turkey, but they also practise creating a cohesive sound as a full orchestra.

The TGFO in rehearsal with Cem Mansur at Sabancı University, July 2016

In addition to improving their technical prowess, the young musicians participate in workshops and seminars about music as an agent of change. Activities of this sort are an integral part of the project – one of the most notable is the ‘Laboratory of Democracy’, where Mansur demonstrates to both musicians and audiences how the structure of an orchestra is the perfect metaphor for co-existence, leadership, self-respect and responsibility. The rehearsals culminate in a fund-raising concert in Istanbul for the Friends of the TGFO (this year at Uniq Istanbul, Maslak at 8.30pm on July 27).

The orchestra performing in Berlin two years ago

This amazing band of new friends then takes its infectious musical energy on the road. In this regard, the group has a storied past – they’ve performed at some of the best concert houses in Europe. Among others, the orchestra previously appeared in the Konzerthaus in Vienna, Konzerthaus in Berlin (2008, 2010, 2015), Sala Santa Cecilia in Rome (2010, 2013, 2014), Auditorium di Milano, Brucknerhaus in Linz (taking part in the prestigious Brucknerfest) and the Bayer Concerts in Leverkusen/Köln, where the young orchestra had the honour to open the season. The orchestra was also in residence at the Beethovenfest in Bonn for four days in September 2012, and performed in a special concert in honour of Queen Beatrix, attended by Her Majesty, while touring in the Netherlands to mark 400 years of diplomatic relations with Turkey.

This year the group will tour Portugal and Spain from July 29 until August 8. The impressive repertoire includes works by Verdi, Schubert, Tchaikovsky and Bartók.

Inevitably, funding is an endless uphill struggle and depends entirely on private donations. But nothing better encapsulates Turkey’s future. To help this project go from strength to strength, we feel sure that many Cornucopia readers would like to join the Friends of TGFO (TGFO Dostları).

To learn more about the performances and purchase tickets, visit the orchestra’s website. To join the Friends of the TGFO, contact the project coordinator, Emre Haraççıoğlu.

The weekend gallery guide is a new feature on the Cornucopia blog. Each Thursday we will share our pick of exhibitions in Istanbul to visit over the weekend. 

Summer can be quiet in Istanbul, as many people submit to the siren call of the seaside and happily take their leave from the oppressive concrete jungle. Yet this summer has been oddly action-packed, if not for the best reasons. Those of us in Istanbul have taken comfort in the fact that the art world is still chugging along, bringing us thought-provoking and uplifting exhibitions amidst the madness. Here’s our pick of shows for the upcoming weekend:

Robert Mapplethorpe 1979–1989 at Galeri Nev Istanbul, İstiklâl Caddesi

‘Bird of Paradise’, 1979, silver gelatin, 20 x 16 inches

If you’re looking to be shocked by Mapplethorpe’s iconic S&M shots, this is not the show for you. The works on display in this solo exhibition, the photographer's second at Galeri Nev Istanbul, may be tamer, but they are no less captivating. His simplistic compositions of flowers, body parts and sparse spaces, all sculptural in nature, establish the primacy of form over narrative in the artist’s vision from this period. The exhibition closes on Sunday July 31, so this weekend is your last chance to see the work of this visionary photographer in Istanbul.

The Mixup at Space Debris Art, Karaköy

Riham El Ghosseini, Saba Sadr, Jamal Saleh, ‘Slipping Away’, 2016. Courtesy of the artists and Space Debris.

This recently opened group exhibition presents collaborative art at its finest. The premise of ‘The Mixup’, a project begun in October 2015, is that 6 to 8 artists from such cities as Istanbul, London and Cape Town collaborate on various works of art – two different artists further and complete, respectively, an A-3 sized work that one artist began. What came out of these collaborations are some playful and unexpected pieces that speak volumes to the artistic process. The Istanbul exhibition of this project only runs until August 13, so there’s no time to dawdle.

Casting the Circle at Galerist, Tepebaşı

Luna Ece Bal, ‘Magic on Paper (Female Orgasm)’, 2016, natural pigment on paper, 70 cm x 100 cm

This exhibition features the magnetic work of three young female artists, Mükerrem Tuncay, Romina Meriç and Luna Ece Bal. Each artist provides a different take on ‘casting a circle’, exploring the metamorphic relationships between sleep and wakefulness, human body parts and elements of landscape, and science and magic. The latter is quite evident in the work of Bal, whose ‘Magic on Paper’ series links traditions of witchcraft to modern science. The image shown above evokes forms of stem-cell imagery while at the same time addressing questions of female sexuality. The show was pushed back from its original dates due to the bombing at Atatürk Airport and is now scheduled to close on August 14.

The weekend gallery guide is a new feature on the Cornucopia blog. Each Thursday we will share our pick of exhibitions in Istanbul to visit over the weekend.

This weekend we recommend a visit to two of Istanbul’s most venerable art institutions: the Pera Museum and ARTER. Mere blocks away from each other, the two museums often stage complimentary exhibitions, even if unintentionally. The Pera Museum is focused on highlighting a mixture of modern and contemporary art in its visiting exhibitions, as well as shedding light on the development of Turkish art over time. ARTER, however, sticks strictly to the contemporary, organising group and solo exhibitions featuring some of the most innovative artists currently working. All three of the exhibitions listed below are coming to a close soon; Jameel Prize 4 and Mario Prassinos end in mid-August, while Not All That Falls Has Wings is open a bit later, until mid-September.

Jameel Prize 4 Exhibition at the Pera Museum, Tepebaşı

Ghulam Mohammad, ‘Untitled’, 2014, paper, ink

You have to see the work of Ghulam Mohammad, the winner of the fourth Jameel Prize, to believe it. Mohammad, who trained in the art of miniature painting, cuts out tiny Urdu words and letters, and then pieces them together in collages that manage to look both delicate and hardy. Photographs are deceptive – the pieces are smaller and more impressive in person. The other nominees, including Cevdet Erek and CANAN from Turkey, also produced some thought-provoking works of art and design inspired by Islamic tradition. What makes this exhibition such a joy is that it provides some of the best examples of each artist’s work, giving you a small taste that will leave you wanting more. The exhibition closes on August 14.

Mario Prassinos, In Pursuit of an Artist: Istanbul-Paris-Istanbul at the Pera Museum, Tepebaşı

‘The Raven’, 1952, woodcut, 28 x 36 cm

Born in Istanbul in the early 20th century, the avant-garde artist Mario Prassinos is making his way back home – well, sort of. His works, which range from paintings and book illustrations to portraits, tapestries and prints, like the one above, are coming back to Pera, his birthplace, on the centenary of his birth. The exhibition shows his development as an artist over time; working in France, Prassinos first adopted a Surrealist style before taking a more realistic approach in his art. The trees of Istanbul apparently made an impression on the artist, as they make an appearance in his celebrated Paysages Turcs (Turkish Landscapes) series, some of which are on display. The exhibition closes on August 15.

Not All That Falls Has Wings at ARTER, İstiklâl Caddesi

Ryan Gander, ‘Ftt, Ft, Ftt, Ftt, Ffttt, Ftt, or somewhere between a modern representation of how a contemporary gesture came into being, an illustration of the physicality of an argument between Theo and Piet regarding the dynamic aspect of the diagonal line and attempting to produce a chroma-key set for a hundred cinematic scenes’, 2010, arrows, dimensions variable

This group exhibition, curated by Selen Ansen, explores the idea of gravity, and specifically the act of falling. Considering that everything falls and keeps falling, the show looks at how this permanent downfall affects individual trajectories and ways that individuals have come to terms with reaching the bottom. Ryan Gander’s installation wades into the debate over the significance of the diagonal line and transforms it into a spatial struggle. The hundreds of arrows, which were seemingly shot at varying angles, celebrate the diversity of lines and paths, while also dismantling the monopoly of verticality and certainty. 

Main image courtesy of the South Asia Foundation

If I could take home one object from the ‘Jewel’ exhibition at the Sadberk Hanım Museum, well, I don’t think I could choose just one. The writer in me covets the 19th-century writing box made of wood and tortoiseshell with silver and enamel embellishments. But then there’s the 17th-century jade spoon whose handle is decorated with silver, coral and a chevron pattern made of ivory and ebony – eating my morning yogurt with such a spoon would be pure decadence. The diamond- and turquoise-encrusted silver coffee cup holders (pictured above) would dazzle guests, camouflaging my below par Turkish coffee making skills. Suffice it to say that this exhibition had me lusting after a life of luxury. 

One of the display cases at ‘Jewel’, a compact yet dazzling exhibition

My dreams of grandeur are not unfounded. The objects on display, mostly from the late Ottoman period, follow court tastes and represent the work of court artists; according to the exhibition panels, they were evidently used and worn by people in or close to court circles. Organised on the occasion of the 35th anniversary of the Sadberk Hanım Museum, the exhibition is a tribute to the imperial splendour of the Ottomans.

Until the late Ottoman period, Istanbul was one of the world’s foremost jewellery production centres. The jewellers and goldsmiths of Istanbul, both in the palace and the city, were continuing a deep-rooted tradition of jewellery making that began with the Turkish states of Central Asia. Yet the rise in their number and output was tied to the success of the Empire. As the Ottomans became more powerful and wealthier, the palace increased its patronage of jewellers and goldsmiths, for jewelled objects were regarded as symbols of status and power.

Engolpion (Pendant medallion worn by an Orthodox bishop), Ottoman-Istanbul, 17th century, gold, enamel, rubies, emeralds, rock crystal, spinels and pearls

The objects featured in the exhibition are just a small sampling of what was produced by these esteemed Ottoman craftsmen. From a precious stone perspective, the 17th-century engolpion, a pendant medallion worn by an Orthodox bishop, is marvellous. Studded with rubies, emeralds, rock crystal, spinels and pearls, the two-headed eagle gleams.

Belt buckle, Ottoman, late 16th century, silver, gold, jade and spinels

The above 16th-century gold, silver and jade belt buckle with raised spinels is equally magnificent. What is so striking about these early works is the unique shape of each stone – at that time the craftsmen didn’t have the technology required to cut stones with the precision of today’s jewellers. The irregularity makes you appreciate even more the effort that went into creating these objects.

From the mid-18th century onwards, jewelled objects became more diverse and their use outside the palace increased. Coinciding with this proliferation was the shifting of fashion trends: traditional conventions of Ottoman art were gradually abandoned in favour of European fashions, such as the use of rose and brilliant cut diamonds. In addition, the 19th century saw the Empire become a major market for European goods, due to political and economic concessions. This led to an increase of European-made objects catered to Ottoman tastes.

Pocket watch, Swiss, ‘Longines’, early 20th century, gold, enamel and diamonds 

This shift is amply demonstrated in the exhibition, which mainly features objects from the 19th century. In terms of number, the enamelled and jewelled watches and snuff boxes win by a long shot. According to the exhibition panels, these were the most popular types of jewelled objects during the late Ottoman period. While European clocks and pocket watches had long been a favourite diplomatic gift, they moved beyond the confines of the palace and became popular with ordinary people after industrialisation in Europe made them affordable. Many of the enamelled pocket waches, like the 20th-century Swiss watch pictured above, feature iconic images of Istanbul that continue to grace objects of all kinds to this day.

Bag belonging to the treasurer, Ottoman, 1893–1894, velvet and silver

The wide variety of jewelled and enamelled objects is also visible in the show, which contains objects ranging from the above-mentioned writing box to mirrors, fans and mastic jars. Some, like the medals, broaches and coffee cup holders, bedazzle with their gem stones, while others are more subdued, if no less beautiful. The bag that belonged to the treasurer, pictured above, is one of the latter – it may not steal the spotlight, but the intricate silver work deftly combines floral and geometric patterns.

The back garden of the Sadberk Hanım Museum

‘Jewel’ is not a large show – it fills one floor of the annex to the old yalı. Yet the riches on display will seduce you, and leave you dreaming of opulence for days to come. Plus, if you haven’t had your fill of delightful objects after touring the well-lighted, compact show, the rest of the museum is an absolute treat. I found myself spending an additional hour exploring the museum’s prized collection of antiquities and its exquisite examples of Iznik and Kütahya pottery. After getting more than my fill, I rested my feet at one of the tables in the back garden, trying and failing to pick a favourite object from the day.

‘Jewel: Enamelled and Jewelled Objects from the Sadberk Hanım Museum Collection’ has been extended to Sunday, September 25. The Sadberk Hanım Museum is open daily 10.00–17.00, closed Wednesday, and can easily be reached by metro and a short taxi ride. You can purchase the exhibition book for 32 GBP from the Cornucopia bookshop. 

The weekend gallery guide is a new feature on the Cornucopia blog. Each Thursday we will share our pick of exhibitions in Istanbul to visit over the weekend.

Living in Ortaköy, I jump at the chance to get away from the crowds. This week, I'm sharing two places I often go to when I need a breather. The first is the Borusan Contemporary in Rumelihisarı, housed in the ten-storeyed Perili Köşk, which is noted for its distinct brick façade and rounded tower. I love nothing more than to munch on an ekmek arası köfte from Kalite Köfte, a hole-in-the-wall attached to the Ali Petek Camii, then explore the artwork placed throughout the Borusan offices and end with a leisurely walk along the Bosphorus down to Bebek. The other spot is the Elgiz Museum of Contemporary Art. Tucked amongst the skyscrapers of Maslak, this gallery feels like an oasis. The terrace is particularly peaceful.

teamLab: Between Art and Physical Space at Borusan Contemporary, Rumelihisarı

(i) ‘Flutter of Butterflies Beyond Borders’, 2015, interactive digital installation; (ii) ‘The Void’, 2016, digital work, four channel, ed 1/6

Exploring the intersection of technology and art, the artist collaborative teamLab creates digital art that is fundamentally interactive, deepening our relationship with reality. There are only five works on display at Borusan, but each one requires keen observation. The two interactive installations – both pictured above – are particularly engrossing.

‘Flutter of Butterflies Beyond Borders’ and ‘The Void’ create a combined digital work where butterflies emerge on the wall as a projection and then fly onto the blank monitors; the projection and monitor are seamlessly connected. When someone touches a butterfly while it’s projected on the wall, it dies, whereas those displayed on the monitors cannot be killed. The entire work changes according to the viewers’ participation. I'm embarassed to say that I killed all the butterflies (I know, I’m a monster) just to see what would happen – the monitor and wall stayed blank for quite a while, letting the guilt really sink in.

‘Flowers and People, Cannot be Controlled but Live Together – A Whole Year per House’ (2015, main featured image) also revolves around the interaction between the viewer and the installation. In real time a computer programme creates various flowers that spring up, grow, blossom and wither, and these images are then projected on all four walls of a dark room. When standing still in front of a wall, new flowers spring up in bunches. But as soon as a viewer touches a flower on the wall, it immediately begins to lose its petals. The immense joy of watching the flowers grow is immediately replaced by the dismay of seeing them wither away. It is a visceral lesson on the delicate balance and distance between people and nature.

Deck Voyage at Borusan Contemporary, Rumelihisarı

Lee Sang Hyun, ‘Tears of Fallen Blossoms’, 2009, multimedia Installation, 3.32 min

The Borusan Contemporary is unique in that it’s only open to the public on the weekends. During the week, the space functions as the headquarters of Borusan Holding. The exhibition Deck Voyage is sprinkled throughout the office space, making the show feel a bit disjointed. But you can still enjoy the new media works selected by the curator Necmi Sönmez from the Borusan Contemporary Art Collection. My favourites were Lee Sang Hyun’s two pieces, one of which is featured above. These multimedia installations make references to current problems with allegorical narrations that sometimes border on the absurd.

Fugitive Shadow at Elgiz Museum of Contemporary Art, Maslak

A few of the sculptures included in the show ‘Fugitive Shadow’

This outdoor sculpture exhibition, presented on the Elgiz Museum terrace, pays homage to the Italian sculptor Benvenuto Cellini, who once said, ‘The difference between painting and sculpture is as great as between a shadow and the object casting it.’ The works are all loosely related to the theme of shadows as understood in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, where shadows are a metaphor for the illusory world. It’s fun to visit the exhibition at different times of the day to observe the changes in shadow caused by the rotating sun and the massive skyscrapers surrounding the terrace. What's especially nice, though, is the chance to contemplate the various sculptures in relative peace and quiet – there are no throngs of visitors to distract you.

‘teamLab: Between Art and Physical Space’ and ‘Deck Voyage’ end on October 16. ‘Fugitive Shadow’ ends on November 12. Please note that the Elgiz Museum is closed on Sundays.

Great translation, despite being incredibly difficult, often goes underappreciated. Which is why we were delighted to learn that the 2016 Talât Sait Halman Translation Award is now accepting submissions.

This is the second year that the Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts (IKSV) will give out the award in an effort to support outstanding translations of literary works, including but not limited to poetry, short stories and novels. The 2015 Talât Sait Halman Translation Award was presented to Siren İdemen for her outstanding translation of Georges Perec’s La Boutique Obscure: 124 Rêves, titled in Turkish Karanlık Dükkân: 124 Rüya.

Siren İdemen (left) won the 2015 award for her translation of Georges Perec’s ‘La Boutique Obscure: 124 Rêves’

The committee has chosen an outstanding individual to honour with this award – Talât Sait Halman (main image) was a prolific translator and writer who was as equally talented in English as he was in Turkish. Halman published 75 books, 30 of which were in English, and over 3,000 articles, studies, newspaper columns and essays. He also endeavoured to raise the profile of Turkish literary works in the English-speaking world. In addition to translating over 5,000 poems from Turkish to English, he served as the general editor of the Journal of Turkish Literature, the first and only scholarly English-language journal devoted in its entirety to Turkish literature. His efforts paved the way for the abundance of Turkish works currently available in translation, with more being translated each day. (Laurent Mignon reviewed two exceptional new translations, Felâtun Bey and Râkim Efendi and Madonna in a Fur Coat, for Issue 54.)

Yet this is just the tip of what Halman accomplished. A gentleman with a heart of gold, he was one of Turkey’s most admired cultural figures and the country’s first ever Minister of Culture. In addition to holding positions as Deputy Permanent Representative at the United Nations and as a member of the board of directors of PEN American Centre, Halman was also a member of the UNESCO executive board for four years and served as the President of the İKSV Board of Trustees since 2008 until his passing in 2014. The last book he published before his death was William Shakespeare: Aşk ve Anlatı Şiirleri (Shakespeare's Poems of Love and Narration) – with this 4,000-verse book, all of Shakespeare’s works have been translated into the Turkish language.

Either publishers or translators themselves can submit literary works for consideration. These works must be translated into Turkish from another language, although there are no restrictions regarding the original language of the text. Books translated into Turkish in the same calendar year as the award will be eligible. The selection committee, which is headed by the author Doğan Hızlan, will determine the winning translator, who will be presented with a onetime award of 15,000 TL. The author, translator, and critic Sevin Okyay, the author and translator Ahmet Cemal, the author and translator Yiğit Bener, and the author Kaya Genç round out the selection committee.

The deadline for submissions is 17.00 on November 4. Click here to download the application.