On the way to Cinematography...

I am fascinated by the camera and how it emulates how the human eye sees the world.  From aperture to shutter speed, SLR technology allows us to capture the exact moments in time that we see.  Even tough my main goal is to work in cinematography, I am delving into stills photography to understand the workings of the camera better.  As such, I have established a new gallery on DeviantART where I'll be posting my best photography work.  I will also try to post and tweet informational blogs and articles on the subject that I read.  The first one to come will be on the 180 degree rule in shooting video with a DSLR.

Until then, enjoy my first work: a portrait of Deniz Harut. Below is a low resolution version of the image, which you can view in full resolution on DeviantART here.

Icarus at the Edge of Time at the Royal Festival Hall

The tale of Icarus gets a "science in fiction" overhaul as Brian Greene's book is transformed into a multimedia experience.


Narrated by David Morissey, featuring a film by Al + Al and an original score by Philip Glass, the European premiere at the Royal Festival Hall started with the Dr. Atomic Symphony by John Adams. It was a fine start, fit for the main event, as it is an opera about the life of Dr J Robert Oppenheimer, who is behind the atomic bomb. Considering the heavy physics behind the concept of the event, there was a quick lecture on how black holes function and what effects they produce given Einstein's theory of relativity, and then it was time for the main event.


In Greek mythology, Icarus uses the wings constructed by his father from wax and feathers to escape from Crete. His curiosity gets the better of him when he flies too close to the sun and his wings melt away. As such, Icarus falls to the sea and drowns. Brian Greene's book, published in 2008, reworks the myth and situates it in deep space. Icarus is the son of the captain of a ship sent out to deep space to investigate alien life forms. On their way, they encounter an unchartered black hole. Icarus, overtaken by his curiosity and eager to try his prototype spaceship, flies out to the black hole to show his father that he can make it there and back. He does achieve this fantastic voyage, but he fails to factor in the effect of the black hole on time, slowing it to such a degree that a second near the black hole translates to hundreds of years in the normal fabric of space-time.


The premise of the story deserves a lot of interest as it's scientifically accurate, hence "science in fiction",  and yields great dramatic value. There are undertones of personal struggle as well, as Icarus slightly disdains his ancestors for making the decision for him to be born into this spaceship only to ensure continuity of the mission since it takes many generations to reach its destination. Philip Glass' original score has the right tones and intensity to deliver this emotional weight of the story. However, I can't say the same for the film, which lacks the artistry of the music or the narration.  


As the main drawback of the event, the film simply comes off as unprofessional. The simple geometric shapes and the use of flashing colors may all be well intended, but the experimental approach taken in the production of the film unfortunately diminishes the overall effect and clashes with the narration, which is rather straightforward.  It almost seems like the different elements of the production are at odds with each other. An unsettling aftertaste.


Film is the right medium to tell Icarus' story, especially with Glass' fantastic score, but it needs more maturity especially considering the fact that there is narration involved. A better way to present this story though would be through a feature length film where the director can really explore the emotional depth of being born into a traveling home with a mission. Having that huge decision made for you would anger anyone, and a kid would most likely respond in the manner Icarus does. It propels him towards the black hole, from which there is no return even if you survive. Black holes can warp time and slow it down, but time always travels one way - into the future. And what awaits at the end of your journey is even more fantastical.

Steppenwolf production resparks theatre

August: Osage County by Tracy Letts is the first play in a long time that got me excited about theatre as an art form, so much so that I want to see more plays.  It is the rare American play of a time when large ensembles, big sets and incredible acting made the theatre a more exciting place than the movies.  Well, hail this Steppenwolf production for its cast, acting, drama, comedic one-liners, and overall aplomb.  You just gotta love this play!

Letts' script is an overarching bridge connecting the secrets of a big ol' American family.  As the beans slowly spill over about three hours, the characters have no choice but to learn each other, which they've obviously been avoiding for their whole lives.  It contains multiple threads of discussion, from different forms of escapism to the pompous feeling of our generation over our parents', that are applicable to all of us.  The cast do a wonderful job of tackling these with their true-to-life depictions of their characters over the course of some impressive and unforgettable scenes, the first of which is the dinner scene.  The absolute energy of that scene was not comparable to anything I have seen in a long time, which is kudos to the writer, director and actors.

For a generation who's been bombarded with minimalistic, self-indulgent pieces of prose and verse, this is a breath of fresh air from the past.  It is a grand production that will hold you to it until the last minute and make you wish you hadn't praised that minimalistic bullshit you had seen a few weeks ago as deep.  Everyone, this is theatre.  This is what theatre should be.  Enjoy.

La Binoche dilutes her love stories with unnecessary movement in in-i

The revered Juliette Binoche takes the stage to dance for the first time with choreographer Akram Khan in their collaboration in-i currently premiering at the NFT. The show is a collection of love stories either acted out or danced, and obviously Binoche and Khan shine in different areas. Even though I like the idea of using acting or dancing to represent different kinds of love (according to the ancient Greeks, there are 14 ways of love), I'm not sure if the pair has thought through the show completely and let it brew enough to become more mature. There are segments that are way too long than they should be and the dance routines seem to duplicate itself from story to story as a lot of flailing arms and interchanging aggressive moves tend to dominate the dance portions. Basically, it can't create consistent audience interest and it feels like it repeats itself.

Despite its shortcomings, in-i was still enjoyable, and La Binoche's amazing acting, especially her facial gestures, stand out even when she's dancing. Her intense dance training also shows as she keeps up with Khan rather well. However, her moves don't seem as natural and smooth as Khan's and it shows that she's not a professional dancer. Having said that, I doubt Binoche decided to take on this project to prove to the world that she can dance as well as she can act. I believe she was at the helm of this project because she had something to say about love, and her voice, even though foreign to the world of dance, does bring a certain level of depth to Khan's movements. What I can surmise from the show is that love has a personal definition for all of us and everyone's understanding and expectation of love will be shaped by our past and present.

All in all, a passable try, but I hope her next project will feel more mature and polished.

Dutch duo delivers, Viktor & Rolf exhibition is a must-see

It's the first time in the UK that Viktor & Rolf have been the subject of an art exhibition. The Barbican Art Gallery is well set to display the evolution of the duo that never cease to amaze the fashion world with their couture shows that always have a dash of performance art mixed in. Each couture show is exhibited in its own section with a running video of the show projected behind the human-sized dolls carrying the signature pieces of each show. The meticulous detail and attention that obviously went into the dolls become obvious when you realize that the dolls look like replicas of the models on the video (except of course for that Dutch mannequin pudginess). Apparently V&R even requested that the dolls' hair got styled in the same exact manner as that of the models from the original runway.

Having gone through the exhibition, V&R represent more performance art than fashion for me, as their ideas tend to be charged with an ideology, and hence the couture shows tend to be more of a statement than just a display of the finest craftsmanship and latest chic designs. But that's also why none of their couture shows are boring. I found myself watching every single runway video to absorb it all, giggling intermittently at the bravery and creativity of the designers. Words can't explain the work of this duo so do yourself a favor and get a ticket immediately.

"Listening Post" transcends voyeurism to art

Thumbs Up!
I recently got the chance to see Listening Post, the media installation by Mark Hansen and Ben Rubin, at the Science Museum. It got me thinking about the human need to connect and how the 21st century men try and connect via the cyber-space. Is it counter-productive or more efficient? As someone who uses chat and social networks, I'm not sure what the answer is...

To begin with, the piece is a technological marvel with 200 electronic screens designed in a big, curved grid backed up by algorithms that analyze real-time IRC chat data to compose a symphony with movements. The cool factor is that the symphony is different every time as it consists of real-time chat data. It also creates a sense of rush as you're eavesdropping on people's conversations. I must admit that one of the reasons I had decided to see this installation was because of its voyeurism aspect.

One of the sections is titled "I AM," and it puts together phrases starting with "I am" that are typed within the last two hours. The display of the phrases/words is accompanied by synthetic voices reading them out loud. The synthetic voices are so neutral (mind you, they don't sound blank like regular computer voices, but they just sound normal, bereft of any implication or emotion). The surround sound setup with the voices and the ambient music create an eerie atmosphere where anonymous people are reaching out for communication. What the viewer is left with is wondering whether or not the hand was met halfway by another...

I would highly recommend anyone to see the installation as it is thought-provoking, enjoyable, fresh and contemplative. I rarely enjoy art installations as I think most of them don't have any artistic merit, but this one deserves some credits.

Louvre in Istanbul: the Exhibition

While I was in Istanbul for a friend's wedding last weekend, I got the chance to see the 250-piece exhibition Louvre in Istanbul featuring Islamic art from the three capitals of Islamic art history, Istanbul, Isfahan and Delhi. The exhibition was housed in the lavish mansion that used to belong to a famous Turkish businessman, Sakip Sabanci, and was curated extremely well.

The historical introduction to each segment of the exhibition provided the necessary backdrop for understanding the pieces as they were perceived at their time, though most of the carpets, calligraphy and china on display were breathtaking solely through their artistry and beauty. Needless to say, I was very proud to have seen the exhibition, but slightly annoyed that the Louvre was housing all of these national treasures from our past, but that's another story so I'll move on...

The mansion itself was beautiful. Designed by an Italian architect in the 1940's, it hints at Versailles and other European royal courts with its interiors. The mansion is widely referred to as Atlı Köşk (Equestrian Villa) because of the bronze horse statue that sits in its front garden welcoming anyone who enters the premises. The view of the Bosphorus from the garden is a sight to behold. What I would give to have that view every morning of every day...

Check out the link to see some pics of the pieces on display and some other pics from my trip to Istanbul last weekend.

http://picasaweb.google.com/ysolmaz/SpringInIstanbulApr2008

On a further note, I found the TV spot that was created for the exhibition on youtube. It's minimalistic but very effective. Check it out!

A Theatrical Week

This week has been a theatrical week indeed - first, I saw A Disappearing Number by Complicite and then In Celebration at the Duke of York Theatre. All I can say is that London is the land of the best and the mediocre theatre in the world, respectively.

A Disappearing Number by Complicite
I was awed by the sheer creativity and imagination of this production, from the use of multimedia projections to the intricate script. Scenes are so seamlessly connected that the viewer has the feeling of watching a film. More than one time I found myself staring at the stage the same way I stare at a film screen - to see every detail of the image.

The play is essentially a biography of one of the world's greatest mathematicians, Srinivasa Ramanujan, who contributed to the field of mathematics immensely during the First World War. Ramanujan is the mathematician that introduced the famous equation n/0=∞, where n stands for any number; meaning any number divided by 0 equals infinity. However, the play actually tells the story of four people, combining fact and fiction gracefully to emphasize its ideas of beauty, simplicity, nature and mathematics. After all, nature is full of complex mathematical patterns; we all look at them, but how many of us really see them. It also deals with "imagination and the nature of infinity; about what is continuous and what permanent; how we are attached to the past and how we affect the future; how we create and how we love."

The acting, the staging, the music, the dance, the script - this is an extremely well done play. I would recommend it without any hesitation. In fact, if you're reading this and you're in London, you have to buy tickets now!

In Celebration
And then there was this play... It got somewhat good reviews and Orland Bloom is in it for cryin' out loud! I had to see this!

Boy, was I disappointed. First of all, the script is uninspiring and almost annoying. All characters seem like they have something to resolve with each other, but they never do! All of this tension just bubbles onto the surface creating a lot of expectation and just dies down as the lights go down on the stage. Nothing surfaces, no reconciliations are made, so no climax. The script is either one of the best real-life scripts due to its lack of dramatic resolution or one of the worst examples of theatre where there is no urgency to make the audience care about these characters or watch their lives for 2,5 hours.

Another disappointing fact is that Orlando Bloom has about 50 words during the whole play. He is cast as the silent brother, who holds so much potential to be the turning point of the play due to his mysterious silence, but gets reduced to a non-central character since nothing happens. Yes, that was the theme of this play: NOTHING HAPPENS!

Don't pay 30 quid to see it!

An Encounter with Orhan Pamuk

At one of the autumn literature talks that recently commenced at the Southbank Centre, I got the chance to listen to Orhan Pamuk live for the first time. He read a few excepts from his new book 'Other Colours' and then answered some questions from the audience and the editor-in-chief of the Guardian. After this lovely encounter, my respect for Pamuk grew considerably.

Even though he is a controversial and, I believe, an overly-politicized figure, not just in Turkey, but in the milieu of the western world, his ideas are modern, crisp, and surprisingly non-political. He just happens to say what he believes in and thus becomes a media-embroidered political figure ("because it sells"). At the end of the day, he's a fiction writer, who has been inspired by Proust, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy. Among his books, Snow is the only one that could be considered a modern political study of Turkey, which he has declared as his first and last political novel. All his other books are pure fiction dealing with the medieval Istanbul and Europe, which continue to inspire him.

His sense of Turkishness emits from being very proud with our history but not in an extremely nationalistic manner, that would hinder any contemporary understanding of our identity. He is OK with accepting the past and moving on, so as to get rid of the 'shame' that fuels the 'absolute pride,' as he put it. He compared Turkey's westernization with that of Japan and offered his ideas on how successful these drastic changes can be where they are brought from the top to the people in the span of a few years. I don't want people to misunderstand this: He never questioned Atatürk and his ideals, but commented on how the manner in which Turkey acquired these western values is contributing to the current political trends in Turkey.

Above all the qualities he demonstrated during the talk though, his sense of humor was the best. To a question coming from a student who's writing her doctorate on his books, he replied: "Why don't you send your blank doctorate pages and I'll fill them in for you."

Below are some of the questions that popped up in my head as I was packing for Paris that night:

- Do you think that Turkey is becoming the leader of modern Islam, and do you think that the western world wants Turkey to assume this leadership to fix their work in the Middle East?

- Did you appreciate Turkish culture and values more when you left Turkey to live abroad?

I applaud Pamuk once again.