Into the Crater, Into the Garden
There’s something about mid-March in Istanbul that feels transitional—not quite spring, but no longer winter. The air is softer, the ferry rides less frigid, and galleries seem to fill with people lingering just a bit longer in front of the art. I spent a rainy afternoon in Galerist, and a few days later I wandered into Gülhane Park without a plan, just following the scent of wet soil and early blossoms. Both places held something unexpected—one a storm of myth and art, the other a secret path behind palace walls. It felt like moving between extremes: fire and water, urgency and stillness. But each offered a kind of refuge.
“The Volcano Lover” at Galerist
March 13 – April 26, 2025
I stepped into The Volcano Lover at Galerist not quite knowing what to expect — and found myself pulled into something far larger than an exhibition. It felt like walking into a landscape shaped by ancient forces, where history, myth, and the raw materials of the earth collided in bursts of light and shadow.
Curated by Anlam de Coster, this ambitious group exhibition brings together nearly 40 artists from across the globe, including Türkiye, to explore the volcano as both symbol and phenomenon. The show moves seamlessly between centuries — Pietro Fabris’s 18th-century depictions of Vesuvius, newly commissioned works by contemporary artists, and everything in between. The result is not a timeline but a constellation: fragments of meaning circling around that volatile, unknowable core.
What struck me most was how differently each artist approached the theme. Some looked inward — treating the volcano as a metaphor for emotion, repression, or transformation. Others went outward: exploring destruction, regeneration, or the mythological pull of molten rock. I found myself lingering over a sculpture that felt like a charred relic, then moments later captivated by a delicate drawing that seemed to glow from within. There was no single style, but a shared intensity. As I moved through the space, I kept thinking: this is the quiet before an eruption.
The reference to Susan Sontag’s The Volcano Lover is more than a title. The exhibition draws directly on her themes — obsession, displacement, eros, knowledge — and the volcano as a site of both death and revelation. And yes, it’s hard not to think about today’s world. The show acknowledges that we’re living under our own metaphorical volcanoes: ecological crisis, cultural collapse, political rupture. But instead of despair, it offers renewal. Creation through pressure. Beauty through rupture.
Works by Melike Abasıyanık Kurtiç, Hera Büyüktaşcıyan, Ahmet Doğu İpek, Elif Uras, Yusuf Sevinçli, Burcu Yağcıoğlu and dozens of others build a dialogue across time and geography. Nineteen of these artists are being exhibited in Türkiye for the first time — and it shows. The room vibrates with new voices, new tensions, and new ways of imagining collapse and rebirth.
This isn’t a show to rush through. I left feeling cracked open — in a good way. The Volcano Lover is alive with urgency and strange beauty. You don’t just look at the works. You feel them under your skin.
Address: Galerist, Meşrutiyet Caddesi No:67, Beyoğlu, İstanbul
Gülhane Park & The Forgotten Gate
On a cloudy weekday, I wandered into Gülhane Park without a plan. I hadn’t been in months, and the early spring flowers were just beginning to bloom. There’s a lesser-used gate on the park’s east side that leads directly toward the back of the Topkapı Palace walls—it always feels like entering a secret. I found a bench near the rose beds, watched the cats stretch out in the grey light, and just breathed. The scent of damp earth and the sound of seagulls. Istanbul peace.
Address: Gülhane Park Entrance, Alemdar Mah. Kennedy Cd., Fatih
This week felt like a deep exhale. After the intensity of earlier months, it was refreshing to simply take in light, space, and sound without needing to make sense of it. I needed the cool hush of Gülhane.
Why Turkiye? 
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