past exhibition

Memory of the Mountain

Thoughts on space assume the center of Yalçınkaya’s artistic production and most especially of her drawings. The main concern of Memory of the Mountain is also Yalçınkaya’s take on the exhibition space and the landscape that we inhabit. Fundamental themes of her works that exceed the limits of drawings and find expression in sculptures and installation are both the mutiny against the devastation caused by the construction of numerous hydroplants on the rivers of Northern Turkey and the longing for the times that Bosphorus was a pristine landscape.


Tuba Yalçınkaya


22.10.2015 - 14.11.2015

In Memory of the Mountain, Yalçınkaya envisages geometrical, architectural and organic forms as an imaginary entirety through their fragmented representation. She asserts an ephemeral realism for a change, as a member of a generation that harshly oscillates between fantasizing and pessimism. A generation that knows the only way of escaping the ever approaching hostile fences is to disintegrate and a generation as realist as to know that disintegration is irreversible. That is why it keeps trying to alleviate, so that less fragmentation takes place. Yet, if only out of loyalty to its childhood memories, it keeps imagining to become a whole again after disintegration. Yalçınkaya, hence, reveals the possibility of a novel path between the rocks, walls and trees she draws and thus the memory of the geography Yalçınkaya belongs to gets crystallized in her works.

The stupendous drawings titled Fragmented and Captured and Memory of the Mountain, the latter of which also providing the title of the show, sums up the eternal duality between nature vs. human through Yalçınkaya’s own peculiar lexicon of images. This duality is being juxtaposed with the contrast between landscape representations and abstraction. Implicit Sadness, the sculpture that is positioned in the very middle, mirrors the tension between abstraction and spatiality thanks to the way it looks both as if it is about to transcend its body and as if it is ashamed of the mass it takes up in the space. In today’s postworld where anything belonging to both human and nature gets more and more archaic, the sculpture’s situation in the exhibition space points to the inappropriate sadness of a rock in the nature.

Yalçınkaya’s installation titled Requiem for a Lost View approaches an era when the Bosphorus was unspoiled departing from the perspective of a youngster’s retrospective imagination that has never experienced that time. May we treat memories that we have never own as lost? How will the cultural and natural heritage is going to be remembered by the next generation after that heritage will vanish? May art prove compensation for all the loss?