EVERYBODY KNOWS
Can one walk upon them — upon them still,
The opportunist, the schemer, the traitor.
Can one endure with a book in hand,
With hope, with love, with dream
The human cost of political turmoil...Democracy is in crisis. The post-democratic era has already begun. Its symptoms are manifold: populist leaders, fake news, autocratic surges, totalitarian propaganda, and the shadow of neoliberalism. In the face of such forces, what role can art play? How can the artist contribute to the reconciliation of clashing ideas?
On May 15, 2025, artists Rafet Arslan, Nazan Azeri, Sidar Baki, Osman Bozkurt, Ramazan Can, Buşra Çeğil, Eda Çekil, Balca Ergener, Çınar Eslek, Kamil Fırat, Renknar Burcu Günay, Berat Işık, İrfan Önürmen, Şener Özmen, Cem Sonel, and Nil Yalter gather at G-art Gallery, seeking to create polyphony between personal and political concerns. Working across diverse disciplines, these artists strive to contribute meaningfully to a process of writing history — one that often unfolds without our awareness, in moments seemingly random. Through distinct artistic practices, they confront the crisis of democracy head-on.
This exhibition may remain on the periphery of Turkey’s increasingly superficial art scene — a scene that avoids confrontation, eschews debate, and embraces political neutrality for the sake of easier control. And yet, thankfully, the act of coming together, of coexisting, offers a glimpse of hope: the belief that art can expand dialogue, cultivate understanding, and — perhaps most vitally — become change itself.
Invited artists delve into the crisis of democracy through a historical lens — drawing inspiration from one of the most extraordinary narrative textiles of all time: the Bayeux Tapestry. This nearly 68.3-meter-long and 70-centimeter-wide embroidery, dating back to 1066, recounts the Norman conquest of England by Duke William of Normandy, and the momentous events that surrounded it. Both a rare chronicle of the 11th century and a masterpiece of textile artistry, the Bayeux Tapestry is a singular witness to a defining moment in medieval Europe. With its intricate composition of images and Latin inscriptions, the tapestry weaves a visual epic: Viking ships slicing through stormy seas; arduous journeys; round shields and chainmail armor; mythical beasts and brutal battles — all orbiting around the central figure of William. It offers not merely a glorification of conquest, but a vivid, layered account of power, resistance, and the cost of rule. Preserved for nearly 950 years, this “black box” of the Middle Ages is more than a symbol of victory or sovereignty. It is a silent testament to how war, authority, and ambition imprint themselves upon the social fabric. It provides insight and information found in no other source — a fragile relic, yet a resilient record of civilization, conflict, and control.
In dialogue with this historical artifact, the invited artists explore the fractures and frictions of contemporary democracy. Through their works, they ask: How does one depict power today? Who narrates history, and to whom does it belong? Can the visual language of art — like that of the Bayeux Tapestry — bear witness to the truths often left unwritten?
Contemporary victories and struggles for power unfold not only on visible battlegrounds, but within hidden arenas: the media; economic warfare; cultural hegemony; propaganda; digital disinformation; cyberattacks; and cultural conflicts. These “invisible wars” of the present mirror the historical warfare depicted in the Bayeux Tapestry. In today’s world, multinational corporations and global economic powers occupy a role strikingly similar to that of the traditional monarchies and aristocracies portrayed in the Tapestry — commanding, consuming, and controlling. The injustices of our age — income inequality, class divisions, and economic oppression — echo the rigid social hierarchies of the medieval world. Issues like migration, racism, xenophobia, cultural polarization, authoritarianism, and global political strife are not merely contemporary crises; they are symptoms of a profound unraveling. And in this unraveling, the Bayeux Tapestry emerges not just as a relic of the past, but as a lens through which we trace the parallel trajectories of historical and modern political dynamics. It allows us to visualize how power and resistance have shifted shape over centuries; how war persists in altered forms; and how societal inequalities endure — adorned in new symbols, fought with new tools, yet rooted in age-old struggles.
Art in Turkey is becoming increasingly superficial. The dominant trend of politically "neutral" art production renders the art world more governable, more easily contained. We acknowledge that oppositional slogans and explicitly activist works are no longer visible in the mainstream — yet we believe contemporary political art continues to seep through, albeit in subtler ways. Voices have been silenced, yes — but artists will always find a way to speak. Art does not exist to react like politicians or the media. It is not meant to replicate the simplified, populist language of public discourse. In fact, direct artistic responses to political situations often have limited efficacy in the political arena. They may result in strong artworks, but more often, they make for very poor politics. The unique strength of art lies precisely in its refusal to become a mouthpiece for any party or ideology. Instead, it accesses its own set of tools — poetic, conceptual, sensory. It opens spaces for thought, for experience, for complexity. It allows us to engage with layered realities, beyond the binary logic of daily politics. It does not dictate; it resonates.
We hope this exhibition may also offer responses — or at least resonances — to some persistent and urgent questions:
• How is political art permitted — or how should it be permitted?
• What are the conditions that shape the visibility of political artistic practices?
• What is the role of images and objects in today’s political art, especially when many artists choose to work covertly — even invisibly?
• Do “embedded” narratives only acquire meaning once they become visible?
• Must a work leave a trace in order to be effective?
• What forms can artistic resistance take — and where are its boundaries?
• In an era of hyper-aestheticized capitalism, rising authoritarianism, and collective historical amnesia, what are the strengths and limitations of critical art practice?
• As media images become increasingly manipulable, what new faces are emerging for political participation and the production of ideas?
We believe society must also experience the reverse path — the path through which art reengages with the political. This exhibition seeks to offer a comparative lens, a deeper reflection shaped by overlapping times and truths.
With belief in justice, rights, law, and freedom...
("The poem at the beginning of the text is a reinterpreted excerpt from Ahmet Arif’s poem Anadolu.")
ROAD
Photography has been one of the most powerful ways of conveying the human experience since the day it was invented—more than an image, it is an instrument of language. Since the mid-1970s, artist Kamil Fırat has used this language with an originality, sincerity, and innovative clarity that not only heightens our awareness of the world, but also allows us to approach its issues from multiple perspectives. The cultural depth embedded in his works creates both an individual and collective memory. The most striking examples of this can be seen in “YOL / The Road,” a series that will meet its audience for the first time on February 27. Beginning in black and white and concluding with surprising techniques and color interventions, the exhibition unfolds as a process of design in its content, technique, and aesthetic. As viewers, we find ourselves drawn into the vortex of this cinematographic narrative placed before us—as its very subjects.
The artist describes the YOL series in his own words:
“The road is the interval at the center of the ‘surroundings’—the place that explains me to myself, reminds me of who I am, and forces me to confront myself.
That is why, while wandering through the surroundings, the road is the greatest witness.
For a very long time, the road has held its place as a ‘keeper of history’ in modern confrontations. While doing so, it is also a ‘black box’ that may never be opened.
Silent, without question, without calculation… It shakes you at times only so you may hear what the surroundings are saying.
There is no such thing as ‘where the road leads.’ There are merely intervals within the surroundings.
And in fact, the multiplication of roads is the disappearance of the surroundings.
For this reason, the road is our falling in love with what destroys us.
This exhibition is the road’s testimony to the ‘surroundings’ that are being taken from us, slowly and persistently.”
By invoking this notion of “surroundings” and “landscape,” the artist opens a space for us to rethink our cultural anxieties, political realities, and social concerns. Born on this land and shaped by its knowledge and its culture, Kamil Fırat speaks of these places—of their troubles and their possibilities—through photography.
And he leaves us with a question that lingers:
Are we troubled enough about the ‘surroundings’ being taken from us to make this world a better one?