Life is full of repetitions, painful as well as joyful. The pain comes from the same mistakes we make over and over again. The joyful ones happen because life blesses us with happy surprises. Sometimes we live through a moment that stays with us for years. We cherish its memory and warmth for a long time. We only wish that same moment would happen again in the exact same way that we experienced it. And we know that it is an impossible wish that can happen only in our dreams. But life, as I said, surprises us sometimes by making us live a similar memorable moment one more time when least expected. I said similar, not exactly the same. But the taste of it has the same intensity and warmth. To understand me better, here is a paragraph that I wrote almost ten years ago after participating in the Diyarbakir International Photography Days:
“It’s all Özcan Yurdalan’s fault; after we finished our meal as guests of the Diyarbakır Municipality, he was the one who suddenly started singing a Turkish love song. Inspired by his song, Lokman Rahmi enthusiastically began reciting an old Kurdish poem. Lokman is an Iranian Kurdish photographer. Anush and Nazik from Armenia followed with a duet of ‘Gançum em.’ Then it was Shahidul’s turn. Shahidul Alam sang a song about the rivers of Bangladesh in his baritone voice; we took on the task of accompanying him in the choruses. There were about 20 of us. We were all as joyful as children playing in the park. Shahidul is a master photographer from Bangladesh. He comes from a place thousands of kilometers away from Diyarbakır. After a whole day spent talking about photography as part of the Diyarbakır International Photography Days, he was with us on the second night. This was my second invitation to this small, annual festival dedicated to photography. This time, for the first time, I spoke at a panel on visual storytelling. There's something else to say about this event in Diyarbakır: it wasn't just about art and education; it also possessed a spiritual and human warmth. Throughout the festival, Diyarbakır shone with its endless smile. The passion for photography in the city was so great that, as a guest photographer, I could still feel that warmth days after returning home.”
Recently I participated in the 14th annual Bursa Photo Festival where I was invited to exhibit my work as well as give a talk on my photography. If I were to write my impressions about the Bursa festival, I assure you that I could easily take this writing above from ten years ago, insert Bursa in place of Diyarbakır and it would express what I lived through those three days recently at the festival. Well, of course the part about the singing would be out and the names of the photographers would change. Incidentally, Ozcan Yurdalan would be mentioned again because he was one of the two curators of this festival. The other was Gülbin Özdamar Akarçay...a great curatorial team, the two of them together.
Bursa was a big surprise for me this time (I participated in 2011 in its first year). For years I had cherished the beautiful memories from the Diyarbakır festival, and I had never expected anything similar. But life is full of unexpected turns and Bursa turned out to be as memorable. I met old and new friends. I got embraced by people I have always loved, and I had not seen for years. But as beautiful was to meet all these new Turkish photographers I have been waiting to meet in person...my heroes. I have followed their work with admiration, and I wanted to meet them. Bursa brought me face to face with them and I am grateful for the humbleness I saw in their eyes. There were also others whom I met. Courageous photographers I have seen on the street for many years, working side by side with me. But it had always been ‘hi...bye’, because of the intensity of our street work situations as well as my own shyness. It was great to meet them, break bread with them, listen to their stories and find out that they were as shy as myself. Sweet, sweet people I am waiting to meet again.
I did not spare myself anything. I just let myself flow and participate in almost everything that happened. I saw the exhibitions, listened to the talks and shared many cigarettes and chitchats with people as full of curiosity as myself. Never mind big international names at the festival. Yes, some famous ones were there. But let me tell you that the real fun happens when our own local boys and girls get together. Don’t think please that I am trying to demean anyone if I say that a photo fest is like the class system: the famous foreigners as the upper class and the local talents as the masses...a working class that keeps working hard with integrity. And when they get together, they know how to share a moment that testifies to a common destiny and perseverance. They know each other’s pains and aspirations. A moment that makes me feel I am one of them.
