Unutursan Darılmam (No Offence If You Forget, 2018 - 2024)
- Publisher: FiLBooks
- Awards: Winner of Discovery Awards at Encontros da Imagem (2022)
- Exhibitions: Italo Calvino Is 100+1 Years Old! at Kıraathane (2024), Mamut Art Project (2022), Encontros da Imagem (2022)
- As seen on: Lenscratch, Perimetro (Italian), Creative Review, Adventure.com, Bant Mag (Turkish)
- Playlist: In progress
- Status: In production
Backstory: In 2019, the author experienced a severe depressive episode, confining him to his home for an entire year. His only outings were for psychiatrist visits and brief trips to the city centre. As months of isolation passed, the city became a distant memory, morphing into a monstrous, ever-changing entity. The photographer clung to the few photographs he could take, dedicating every waking moment to studying, editing, sorting, and writing about them. The episode would last until 2022.
Society often views mental health as a personal struggle, with alienation as a common consequence. This work, however, externalises the author's battles, reflecting the impact of a newly diagnosed bipolar disorder on various facets of Istanbul.
The photographs capture both everyday life in Istanbul and the emotions these moments evoke in the photographer, offering a glimpse into a heavily medicated mind. The scenes depicted are serene, occasionally chilling, often restless, yet oddly loving.
Navigating a city of 16 million while grappling with a mental disorder: Through photographs, we come to understand that the vocabulary of existing in a crowded metropolis and the inner turmoil of a somber individual share many similarities. One might even say they speak the same language. Photography becomes their silent dialogue and poignant acknowledgment of a single, certain truth: Perhaps it was time to leave.A central question emerges: Who is being forgotten—the photographer or the city? Through photography, this body of work creates a shared memory for both the author and the city—a collection of images to revisit once the struggle subsides.
As it turns out, the answer lay in a journey to New Zealand in 2023, for the purpose of settling in the country. There, a lonely scene of a tree in a cemetery triggered a flashback to the photograph of the author's grandmother's funeral. One thought bubble later, a conclusion emerged: death looked the same everywhere, even "at the end of the world."
The photographer decided not to leave Istanbul behind, but to live there as long as it was allowed.
2018 - 2024