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THIS IS AN ACT OF ART
You haven’t heard from me for almost five months. I know that you are aware of it! Today is Wednesday and September 11th. The first anniversary of the day when the famous twin towers in New York collapsed and the day when the world’s fate changed!
I am in Artvin doing my military service. Those of you who know me also know I am 27. Not having done this duty until today was one of the big secrets I kept from you.. Why didn’t I do it? Why now? Maybe I will tell you one by one later. We have lots of time anyway, don’t we?
Let me tell you a little about this place. A part of the beach lying all along the Black Sea is facing us. I’ve always wanted a little sea, now I have it! There are “cute” mountains behind us. I say “cute” because they don’t fit in the mountain image I had in mind before coming here. Afterall I am a city boy, it is the first time I meet them! It is full of short and tall trees, not one of them is the same size as the other, there are some green empty areas and a waterfall cramped in between. It is as if I will hold a branch if I stretch my arm. As you can understand, here, nature stretches towards the mountains.
From time to time I get mad at some people, get lost in my thoughts, take a cup of tea and watch the mountains... They suck my anger like a lover, I get relieved.
I forgot to tell you, I am here in Hopa. It is one of Artvin’s 6 districts. It is 1.5 hours away from Rize and 3 hours away from Trabzon. It is on the border to Georgia. It is a town where almost every house faces the sea. There is one main street and one smaller street parallel to it where people mostly do shopping. The lower slopes of the mountains are filled with tea gardens. It has an old rusted pier where I lay on my back and watch the mountains and clouds when I go out to the market and a big harbor where sea business is done. I already made friends with the harbor’s manager who is a photograpghy artist and has a painting collection of his own. The locals like soldiers, considering we are the source of money for them...
My friends from Istanbul call me, I get news. The palm tree that my dear friend Baris Saribas got me with the money to be used for his phone bill and after big time bargaining as a move in present to my studio in the tunnel 2 years ago is now losing its leaves. That’s what upsets me most. I wonder, was is mad at me? There are so many people to be mad at in the Tunnel area, as there are all around the world! And of course there are people to love... In any case, I miss everything, everyone, Istanbul and Asmalimescit.
As you can see, I am planning on writing to you from time to time.
If you would like to answer, my address is on the back.
I thought I’d be happier if I shared my good-natured teasing, my life here, my anger, and my dreams with you. Enjoy it.
And let’s add this to the letter;
I had an exhibition between 4-16 January 2002 in the Taksim Municipal Art Gallery titled “The States of Tuncay Takmaz 31+1”. Thank you for those who were interested.
People who got the invitation and who went to the exhibition wondered most about who Celal was. You know I made one my most important paintings on Celal’s mattress, and I used it on my invitation. Well people are right to wonder. I felt the need to do a late explanation, for the sake of wickedness. Let the ones who have the ears to hear it hear it!
Celal Salman; The owner of the mattress.
Born in Malatya, 1968. We’ve been friends for 8 years.
We sometimes argue, he gets mad at me and leaves...
His hair turned white in the last two years, he says it’s because of me.
Makes great omelletes. Invites our friends, organizes parties.
Doesn’t like to drink that much.
But he can’t resist red wine.
Acquainted people will know, he’s very good at coffee reading, and what he says is true.
He organizes hot wine nights when he feels like it.He reads his own poems, we get carried away.
Has been working in a bank for the last four years, he’s a very charismatic and handsome man.
He spends his weekends painting.
Ooh and he has a pipe.He loves smoking his pipeAnd eating creamy cookies while having his tea.As you can see, he’s fond of his pleasures like us. He’s the only man who can bear with my capricious personality, whatever I do, he doesn’t get pissed, he can’t be angry... Sometimes I wonder if I really am the reason why his hair turned white.
Having told about Celal, I can’t skip the other people whose names were mentioned in the invitation.
Emre Zeytinoglu; Master, Ali Akay’s conceptual friend as far as I understand, writer.
Ali Akay; Master, one of our precious curators, art writer.
Ekrem Kahraman; No need to say much, you know him anyway.
I thank them, and I thank you. I am thinking of writing about what I went through in Ankara Mamak where I was in the beginners’ force in my next letter. Before I forget, I am preparing a little surprise, I’m sure Hasim will be happy about it!
See you again!
Don’t forget;
"THIS IS AN ACT OF ART!"
11 September 2002
Artvin-Hopa
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