No forms of art can express the unending, implacable shift of the Ankara childhood more refined and fierce than Sevgi Soysal’s novel Yürümek (Eng. “Walking”). It never ends, although reaches a sexual development in physical sense, it will remain in puberty at soul forever. It is subdued, restrained, oppressed, unjoyful, unholy, fraudulently pious and always too critical by its age.
Being impressed by this novel, I find it interesting to find a medium to express the fact that generations inherited not only the grand burdens of politics, economics and history, but also sexuality – creating an illusion that nothing really changed. My plan is to walk, literally, through Ankara to dig deep into the Ankara childhood, as far as the images and memories allow – a sort of an archaeological excavation, and try my best to capture these images and memories through mixed media.
Thus begins the walk, in Maltepe – not far away from Yenişehir (ie. New City) of 1970s. Images are not yet in their final form.
Backyard of İstanbul Apartment. My friend Simge C., at the age of 9, looked at me in an admiration and a funny envy, could not take her eyes from my early-grown tits for my age, comparing to hers, someday went “too far” for herself to ask about pubic hairs.
Another apartment close to ours, another long story (aka. Mafia Daughter)
In front of Koç Dormitory, me walking away from all forms of Platonic love – by leaving the lover and all the love I have/could have/-and even worse-could have had in my life.
Entrance to Maltepe Mosque. My friend N., at the age of 12, was selling porn CDs concealed under cover of child movies. Did someone buy them mistakenly? For sure. How did they react then? N. was always there after school (after 3 p.m.). She had a sister, at the age of 6, with no father, no ID, but luckily has a Mother who steals the husbands of our pure and pious women.
Damla Patisserie – sitting in a summer lethargy there, eating lemon and strawberry ice cream- suddenly, a call from a lover! Then, for a moment you think really seriously, that you could have a second chance… Pathetic.
Hoşdere. Old people always make comments such as “Oh, we had lesbian neighbors there in Hoşdere!”. Yes, there was “such” a place.
Anıtkabir. The deepening financial crisis towards the end of 2021, accompanied by the unquestionable “unifying” power of the Father of our Nation- this place never felt more as a family, the one we best know from ourselves’- bigoted, fatherly, holy and sacrosanct. A man raised his hands, leaned towards the walls of Anıtkabir, praying pathetically.
BESTE GÜN ASLAN 