A Week of Contrasts and Quiet Discoveries
There are weeks in Istanbul that feel like a perfect blend of motion and stillness. This was one of them. Spring rains came and went, umbrellas bloomed like street flowers, and the Bosphorus sparkled when the sun finally pushed through. It was a week for contrasts—bold exhibitions, quiet corners, and moments of pause between the pulse of the city.
Moon, Sun, and Moon – Cem Güventürk at Müze Gazhane
February 9 – April 13, 2025
On a gray, blustery afternoon in Kadıköy, I found myself at Müze Gazhane wandering through Cem Güventürk’s solo exhibition Moon, Sun, and Moon. The title alone suggested something cyclical, elemental—almost ritualistic—and the show did not disappoint. What unfolded inside was both strangely humorous and deeply melancholic: a meditation on being human, being contradictory, and being uncertain all the time.
Güventürk builds his work around the question “Who am I?”—but without any pretense of an answer. Instead, the show embraces a kind of existential comedy. Across 25 canvas works, 14 paper pieces, and five sculptures, he draws on symbolic language that feels intuitive, even if not fully decipherable. Moons, suns, distorted faces, scribbled figures—they read like fragments of a dream you almost remember.
What struck me was how personal this all felt, even in its absurdity. His characters—whether in paint or carved form—don’t posture. They wobble. They ache. They shift between defiance and vulnerability in the space of a brushstroke. I lingered at one canvas where a tiny figure held up a banner with a single word scratched into it. I couldn’t tell if it was protest, celebration, or confusion—but it didn’t matter. I recognized the feeling.
This show doesn’t aim to explain art, or life, or even itself. It points instead to the futility of neat answers—and finds poetry there. Güventürk isn’t offering salvation through art; he’s offering a shared shrug. And sometimes, that’s exactly enough.
Address: Müze Gazhane, Hasanpaşa Mahallesi, Uzunçayır Caddesi No:1, Kadıköy, Istanbul
Surp Krikor Lusavoriç Armenian Church
Ongoing
One afternoon, I took a detour through Karaköy and stepped into this beautiful Armenian church on impulse. Quiet, cool, with shafts of light streaming through the upper windows. The scent of wax and stone. I sat for a few minutes and listened to the stillness. I’m not religious, but the calm wrapped around me like a blanket.
Address: Kemeraltı Cad. No:107, Karaköy, Beyoğlu
The city showed me this week that quiet moments often hold the loudest meaning. A drawing of an ordinary street. A rainy walk to a forgotten church. A cracked canvas that speaks of time. Istanbul always leaves room for reflection—if you let it.
Why Turkiye? 
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