An Inviting Garden That Celebrates Queer Desire, Romance and Eroticism

30/05/2022

Interview with Şafak Şule Kemancı

Nergis Abıyeva

 Şafak Şule Kemancı, 2020, polymer clay and mirror, 18cmx18cm

 

 

Nergis Abıyeva: Dear Şafak, you caught my attention with your first solo exhibition "All the Birds Would Come to My Garden" curated by Sınır/sız and held at Depo between June 17 and August 1, 2021. Probably, as an art historian, I was particularly attracted to the art historical contexts and references of your works, so I would like to start with that. For instance, your work featuring snakes and two female bodies in the garden, which I can alternatively call "Eve and Eve" as it brings to my mind the representations of "Adam and Eve" (works in which the serpent is offered as the representation of Eve, femininity, and many features attributed to women). Küçük İskender’s verse "All the Birds Would Come to My Garden", from which the title of exhibition is borrowed, and the visual imagery in the exhibition are reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch's painting "The Garden of Earthly Delights". I feel there are spontaneous, organic relations between your works and Bosch's painting, which has become very famous today while being so radical for its own time. Your work is like a garden of queer gestures, possibilities, and experiences.

 

Şafak Şule Kemancı: While we were setting up the exhibition, calling it “Eve and Eve” made us smile. The snake is the third lover in this sculpture. The idea came from the snake dreams I’ve had in recent years and I actually didn’t think of any connotations to do with snake symbolism while I was preparing the exhibition. I even totally forgot the role of the serpent as a temptation to sin in the Bible... As you said, although Bosch's “The Garden of Earthly Delight” is very famous today and excessively referenced, it is still impossible to resist being influenced by that. In “All the Birds Would Come to My Garden”, we imagined a tempting garden that celebrates queer desire, romance and eroticism. All the birds really came to this garden. Both the opening day and the aftermath happened to be so joyous.

 

NA: The repetition of images is a visual form of expression also embraced by “Kitsch”. Indeed, it stands in sheer opposition with modernist aesthetics, which is sometimes pejoratively called “illustrative”, and which glorifies, in Walter Benjamin’s parlance, the “uniqueness” of the image. The relationship of kitsch aesthetics starting in 1970s to queer art is also visible in your practice. 

 

ŞŞK: I have always been keen on kitsch aesthetics due to its connections with queer culture, its class context and simply its visual style. For example, if a kitsch object is to be bought, we always buy three of it, otherwise there may be a fight or thievery between my mother, my sister and I and hearts can be broken! (laughs) Walter Benjamin observes that there is no critical distance between the observer and the kitsch object, and therefore it is able to provide a momentary emotional satisfaction without requiring any intellectual effort. From this point of view, there may be kitsch elements in my work, as it is important for me that my work is both visually and emotionally accessible by everyone (regardless of whom). But rather than being defined by a certain aesthetic style, want my work to belong to another world and be familiar to us from a very deep, personal place.

 

Şafak Şule Kemancı, vulva series, untitled, 2021, reverse glass painting, 50×70 cm

NA: Let's continue with your vulva works. They reveal an aesthetic in which the forms in nature, flowers and plants are transformed into vulvas. In one of my earlier essays, I wrote that blooming, flowering, etc. of the plants has something that evokes sexual organs such as vulva, vagina, and clitoris, arguing that there are spontaneous and natural similarities between flowers and genitals. Think of the well-known paintings of Georgia O'Keeffe (1887-1996). Although O'Keeffe said that these paintings were only flower paintings, I think it is still possible that they are both flowers and genitals at the same time. It is precisely the similarities in nature that allows me to consider it possible. How do you tackle this matter through the perspective of ecosexualism?

 

ŞŞK: The concept of ecosexualism has been created by Elizabeth Stephens and Annie Sprinkle. When I first heard of it, I really liked the idea of seeing nature as a lover whom we are part of and with whom we share responsibility, rather than a mother figure who constantly gives us something but whose position of the giver we do not highlight enough. Watching plants, trees, animals, seas and stones, we experience feelings close to admiration for the beloved and excitement of the unknown. In fact, looking back, I realize that I got all my inspiration from nature. I did my first vulva work by taking one-to-one samples of the colors of my own vulva, and that work was actually going to be unique, but upon Ozan's (Ünlükoç) suggestion, they turned into a series where I copied the vulva colors of my partner and friends. Each vulva painting has a distinct character with its own colors and plants.

 

NA: In your work, there is also this concept that interests me: Horror vacui, fear of empty space. This concept suggests in visual arts to fill the entire surface of a work of art with details. It has been used in the art literature to describe the works produced in the Victorian Era or Islamic aesthetics. The way you paint murals, the way you use surfaces, etc. creates an aesthetic that prefers stockpiling rather than emptiness.

 

ŞŞK: This is the first time I have ever heard of this concept. Apparently, In a way it is a reflection of Aristotle’s idea that “nature hates emptiness”. This has reminded me of my great-grandmother’s dresses, I think she also hated empty spaces (laughs). Going back to works, what I really want is to fascinate and even seduce the audience through colors and patterns. It’s a bit like the magic of the nymphs in mythology… I suppose patterns somehow plays a hypnotic and seductive role here.

 

NA: Shall we talk about your resources in queer theory?

 

ŞŞK: I have always been very impressed by Oscar Wilde's perspective on art. The value he attaches to the imagination, free expression, and especially “beauty”... Recently, I read Alok Vaid-Menon and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha with great enthusiasm.

Şafak Şule Kemancı, untitled, 2021, polymer clay, 14x27 cm

 

NA: It is apparent that there is no hierarchy of materials in your practice. In an interview, you say that you like hobby materials such as polymer clay. You even add that you used to paint oil on canvas, but that this material is not for you. Your point was quite interesting for me, because I think oil on canvas is an academic and somehow masculine material. Perhaps your choices of material have something to do with your educational background, but it seems to be much more related with your desire to create a fluid, permeable and free world of images with queer gestures, touch, and eroticism ..

 

ŞŞK: The idea of materials referencing to class and gender hierarchies is something that is very interesting to me too. Even though I don’t set out just to spite the masculinity and arrogance in art, that’s what I always have this on the back of my mind when choosing my materials. This is one of the reasons why I like hobby materials more. For example, ceramic is a material that I like very much, but the reason why I have particularly chosen polymer clay instead of ceramic lately is that polymer clay allows more space to create a free world of images, as you said. Ceramic as an ancient material, has class connotations and tells us a lot about the past. But a hobby material like polymer clay has a very short history and thus it is more independent of attributable meanings. But I don't want my works, to be read as "domestic". I don't want to refer to those embroidery and knitting works women have been doing at home for years. I do not relate to the materials from such a perspective.

 

NA: On the other hand, you have been teaching handicrafts to various vulnerable groups for many years, and to migrant women for the last 6 years. What are the correlations between this professional job and your production as an artist?

 

ŞŞK: Working with migrants and refugees allows me to come out of my own little bubble and constantly face other realities. Of course, it is energizing to creatively produce together and share information for years.

 

NA: Your first solo exhibition was held at Depo this year, curated by Sınır/sız comprised of İlhan Sayın, Ozan Ünlükoç and Metin Akdemir who are independent activists/artists with LGBTQ+ organizational experiences in Turkey. I wonder what this experience of the first solo exhibition through collective efforts has turned out for you.

 

ŞŞK: İlhan, Ozan and Metin are my dear friends and we have worked together before. Solo exhibition was their idea and I accepted it without any hesitation. Given that it was my first, organizing it collectively made me feel very good. I felt very much that we speak the same language and we are excited by the same things. Simply put, it was a very healing and growing experience.

 

Şafak Şule Kemancı, 2020, Esra and Özge, digital print wall paper, size varies

NA: You stayed in Ankara in September-October as part of the Ankara Queer Art Program. What was that like, and how did it affect your production?

 

ŞŞK: I was impressed by the tranquility of Ankara, I had visited it before once or twice but this was the first time that I stayed for such a long time. There is an intellectual atmosphere in the city, which prompts you to think. Since I was working at the same time I had to leave and come back several times, but when I was there, I purposefully didn’t socialize, I just paused, did a lot of thinking and took long walks…Many residency programs expect outputs and there was no such expectation here. It was very reassuring when they said that resting and having a good time are also necessary for an artist to produce. It was also very good for me to have a restful time after the hustle and bustle of the exhibition.

 

Yet it seems that my residency will evolve into a small exhibition. There is a queer poet who went to university in Ankara and died there in 1973 at the age of 25: Arkadaş Zekai Özger. While I was there, I read Arkadaş’s poems, researched him, and watched the documentary “Merhaba Canım” (Hello My Dear). Arkadaş's story is very tragic and I feel like I've spent my time in Ankara with Arkadaş. We are thinking of, maybe, a one-work exhibition dedicated to him that would relate to his poems.