SPACE 2: MERT BERDILEK
Exhibition dates. 20 Aug - 1 Sep, 2024
Opening Reception : Thursday 22 Aug 2024, 6:00 - 8:30 pm.
Tersine Göç | Reverse Migration - Photography by Mert Berdilek
After traversing 8000km+ on road across Türkiye, a project was born by photographer Mert Berdilek, on how the country has changed, or hasn't since its formation 100 years ago. Shot solely on medium-format film, Tersine Göç ('Reverse Migration' in Turkish) is a journey into the heart of a country and its people. Where the lines of past and present are blurred. Where in some of the most remote locations, that elusive purity in humanity we're searching for as artists, is found, even if it were for just a fleeting moment.
Mert Berdilek, is a Melbourne based Australian-Turkish Photographer & Filmmaker. Mert's work focuses on returning to his roots, for artistic exploration on core themes experienced by many migrant children living in diaspora. Mert's two major projects in 2024 address the same concept of "Reverse Migration" in two different mediums. Tersine Göç ('Reverse Migration' in Turkish) is a documentary portrait photography project shot from West to East Türkiye, and Geride Kalanlar ('The Remains' in Turkish) is a debut feature film project, entering production in December 2024, during winter in Eastern Türkiye.
Support by Yarra City Arts
The first image in the series, is titled 'My Only Friend' and sets the tone for the work as a whole. It depicts a shepherd on his donkey. The story of the portrait below: "It was twilight, I was driving down a remote road from Doğubeyazıt to Iğdır, in far-eastern Turkey. Next to me, the snow-capped Ağrı Dağ / Mount Ararat. It is said that the mountain is the final resting place of Noah’s Ark, and the rebirth point of civilisation. At the foot of the mountain, a lone shepherd and his donkey, accompanied by hundreds if not thousands of sheep caught my eye.
So I stopped on the side of the road and began walking to this speck of a figure. He was surprised to see me, he told me I was the first person he had seen in a few days. “How old are you?” “Eighteen, abi” - this took me by surprise. “What’s his name?” there was a pause. “He doesn’t have a name.” I looked at the donkey again, noticing dried tears on the fur surrounding the eyes. “How old is he?” “He’s 9 years old” “You’ve been together for 9 years?” “Yes” “But he doesn’t have a name?” he shook his head. There was a long pause, I finally asked “Is he your friend?”. He took a moment to reply. When he finally did, his voice dropped, and he muttered almost under his breath “He’s my only friend”. Those words cut right through me. “Shouldn’t he have a name then?” “Yes.. he should” “Let’s name him then”. After some back and forth of who should name him, he insisted for me to name his donkey. My mind immediately went to my childhood pet dog, who we had lost and I still think about. When leaving, I heard him calling his only friend, by his new name while riding together toward the distant sheep. I had unshed tears in my eyes not knowing why I felt the way I did, but I was moved in a way I couldn’t really explain. I recounted this story to a close friend this week, in which he said “You know, your interaction probably changed his life”. I never thought of that, I don’t know if it changed his life but I know it definitely changed mine. It crystallised to me why we do what we do, with our cameras or our pens, seeking art out there in the real world."
CATALOGUE
Tersine Göç | Reverse Migration
Price POA
