CI DEMI AND TURKISH NOVELLAS
by Steve Bisson
The geopolitical reality of Turkey not only affects my work deeply, it also defines my identity in many ways that I only recently began to realise. No matter how much I see myself as a “westerner” and was raised with more liberal values, I am a product of Turkey: I am [also] Asian. It will take me a lifetime of working to maybe understand and tell this story.



© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime'

Where did you grow up?

Ci Demi (CD): I was born in Beyoğlu (Europe), but grew up in Kadıköy (Asia). Both are very liberal districts of İstanbul with rich art culture.

Tell us about your approach to photography. How did it all start? What are your memories of your first shots? How did your research evolve with respect to those early days?

CD: It all started with me getting a camera for no reason other than I had some money — I was 28 and had no particular interest in photography. But I took it seriously, taught it myself, and embraced photography’s function to document. I learned it by photographing social unrest/issues (protests, war, and immigration). I remember each and every one of the protests I was a part of as a neutral photographer. It taught me a lot — especially ways to navigate my way around different ideologies, explore my own ideas.

Tell us about your educational path if meaningful to your journey. What are your best memories of your studies? What was your relationship with photography at that time?

CD: I studied Italian Literature in university just because I absolutely adored ‘70s Italian giallos. The colour palette of my photographs are inspired by those. But I didn’t have any interest in photography back then.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime'

What were the courses that you were passionate about and which have remained meaningful for you?

CD: When you spend a lot of time with a language and another culture other than your own, something magical happens: you begin to understand the world — you understand and accept that you will never come even close to understanding all of it, but that’s okay, you should keep witnessing things anyway. Studying culture is a lot like photography, you gain a unique perspective on things. Funnily enough, even though I speak the language, I’ve never been to Italy. I was never able to prioritise travelling in my life.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime' 

You focus on telling social documentary and personal stories about İstanbul, a city with many names. How do you see your city today?

CD: My relationship with the city is ambivalent, to say the least. My interpretation of it is quite fluid, it tends to take a new shape every day. It’s all I know, all I’ve got, so I have a certain feeling of belonging to it, which in return sometimes makes me unable to see its faults. I’m not a neutral observer anymore, it’s in the past; I am poisoned by nostalgia. I walk these streets to interact with my childhood, my own past and witness the city’s massive history whilst doing it.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime'


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime'


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime'

I’ve always characterised İstanbul as two whales occupying the sea with their endless dance: you can see the marks of a long life on their skins, and they are mesmerising. The city is struggling to keep up with its population, the infrastructure is failing to meet the demand; so, there’s constantly a race to build something new and cover past mistakes — a constant state of trial and error, that’s how I see it.

Tell us a bit about the Turkey photographic scene? How do you connect? What are the places and institutions you would recommend?

CD: We have a very vibrant photography community with a lot of talent. But for a city that is this massive, it’s also quite small; it’s like a small town, everyone knows each other. Still, there are a lot of galleries, exhibitions opening every week, annual festivals, et cetera. But there’s a problem, and it’s directly related to the very fabric of İstanbul: everyone lives here but not many consider themselves to be an Istanbulite. Few people actually create work “about” İstanbul, meanwhile, there are many who do work “in” İstanbul. GAPO (Geniş Açı Project Office) is an organizational and curatorial platform that one needs to discover to understand the landscape of photography in both İstanbul and Turkey. Also, you should also stop by at Fil Book’s café in Karaköy, İstanbul, and dive into photobooks there, lovely place.

Let's talk about the work  Will the World End in the Daytime a series about an earthquake predicted by scientists right after the 1999 Marmara earthquakes. Why did you choose to use a conceptual and fictional approach to tell this story?

CD: I was in middle school when the 1999 Marmara Earthquakes happened. The memory of those days is still quite fresh, and I didn’t even witness destruction — the area we lived in İstanbul was very safe. But we still spent weeks sleeping outside our homes, fearing the worst. I didn’t have a camera with me back then, I missed my chance to document that part of the story.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Will the World End in the Daytime'

I think the main reason I took a more conceptual approach with this story is that I’m drawn to what I fear in my “post-documentary” projects — the things that I cannot observe. The earthquake that is predicted by scientists to take place in İstanbul is one of my biggest fears, because I know (we all know) that the city isn’t ready. Also, even if I were to take a documentarian, research-based approach, it’s pretty much impossible to gain access to institutes here, we don’t have a culture of transparency. So, instead of taking a direct approach and starting my own research, I wanted to explore what I feel about the disaster that hasn’t happened yet. I desired to create my safe universe whilst looking for those ominous signs in reality.

How much does the geopolitical situation of your country influence and enter your work, and how important is it to outline some reminders in your opinion?

CD: The geopolitical reality of Turkey not only affects my work deeply, it also defines my identity in many ways that I only recently began to realise. No matter how much I see myself as a “westerner” and was raised with more liberal values, I am a product of Turkey: I am [also] Asian. It will take me a lifetime of working to maybe understand and tell this story.

In a recent series Unutursan Darılmam (I Won’t Be Sad If You Forget Me) again about İstanbul, you depict signs of being left behind and dealing with loneliness. Somehow you still talk about your city; not of a precise history, but of a sense of place? A way to express your personal urban feel. Why are you working on this project? And what did you learn by doing it?

CD: In ‘Unutursan Darılmam’, I use scenes of the city as my background while telling a much personal story. I started producing this work after I got diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I was at war with myself, the life I had built for myself. I left everything behind and many things also left *me* behind, so I had to start from scratch. You see, I also wanted to leave İstanbul — reset everything, quit photography.

The name comes from my desire to leave. One day, that sentence popped up in my head whilst walking in the city. It was almost like İstanbul was telling me those words: “Go, and don’t worry, I won’t be sad if you forget me.” I put on my music, just started taking pictures; I didn’t give much thought “of what” I’m taking pictures, it was very instinctual.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 

Then, I spent almost the entirety of 2019 at home, I left the house only ten times. Every time I went out, I photographed with an untamed curiosity because so many things about the city had changed whilst I was inside. Photography was my only interaction with the city; I would go out, take pictures, come back home to stay inside for months, looking at those photographs. So, it’s a story both about me and the city. You don’t see it in the photographs, but it’s also about the room in which I spent a whole year. That room is İstanbul — my room.

It’s a survival story, when you think about it. At least, I did it to survive. And it worked, I am alive and stable, I still photograph, I still live in İstanbul but I have changed. For the better, I must say. I finally learned how to sleep peacefully, that’s what this story has taught me.

Can you tell us something about the method by which you build your stories? Are you instinctive in capturing subjects? Yet it feels like a slow, careful weaving of your editing. In which each image is not a note of a score but rather an indispensable ingredient, a fragment of a plot

CD: I approach my stories as novels or novellas. I always have a certain story (with a beginning and an end) in my head before photographing, then I go outside and “collect” those moments; build my characters, my ambiance, and so on.

I never stage my photographs, every single one of my pictures is something I came across. But, also, the actual act of capturing moments comes very instinctually. I guess this is because of the way I learned how to photograph, I aspired to become a photojournalist on day one.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 

I spend a lot of time with my photographs; I print them, sequence them, discard many of them... So, every picture you see is presented the way they are because of very calculated choices. These image files that I hoard, then release, are never meant to be viewed as “single” photographs; they are all part of a bigger story.

In the era of rapid, compulsive, liquid communication, where images must strike like fireworks, what difficulties do you find in carrying out your expressive research?

CD: Being self-taught, I had to develop my own make-shift methods to create compelling pictures. I have many small rules and “mantras” that I follow whilst photographing. One of them is, upon coming across a scene, reminding myself to “make it interesting”. Interesting for myself, just so when I go back to my room to review them, I want to discover things.

I didn’t have an active Instagram account until June 2021. I was always on my own. Even when I worked as a photojournalist for two years. No feedback, no pats-on-the-back; just photobooks, internet research, my own stories, and myself — and my “obsession” with horror films and paintings. I meticulously built my visual approach. I’m still learning, and this is enough satisfaction for me.

Any book that you would recommend in relation to your work?

CD: I always read fictional books, they are what my brain craves; I’m a complete escapist. Sadly, I can’t recommend a book or a resource about İstanbul because I’ve never consumed any. But to understand the tone of voice of my pictures, I would highly recommend reading Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle. That book defined my sense of humor. I also read a lot of poetry, almost every other day I revisit poems by Enis Batur and Vladimir Mayakovsky, they keep my universe rich. As for photography books, just look up any work by Max Pinckers, I think he’s brilliant.


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 


© Ci Demi, from the series 'Unutursan Darilmam' 


 

Ci Demi (website)


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