The exhibition explores the possibilities of making room for another person within one's own body, language, and gaze, beyond biological lineage, fertility, or reproduction. In this sense, it stands in stark contrast to the idealized concept of motherhood in art history. The artist, troubled by the presentation of reproduction as a moral and cultural necessity, definitively rejects the idea that biological motherhood is superior to other bonds and relationships. This rejection can be expressed in many different ways, but the fact that the form itself can be a rejection is not something we encounter often. It is from this perspective that I want to focus on the Nobody's Mother exhibition.
Meanwhile, we are in the final days of the season when the exhibition Together by American artist Suzanne Lacy will also be presented to the public at the Sabancı Museum, one of the city's prestigious institutions. Lacy has been introduced by the Sabancı Museum as one of the "Most Important Feminist Artists of the Century"... If a museum introduces an artist with the phrase "Most Important of the Century," pay attention! Comparing these two artists—two from different generations, two different disciplines, and two distinct interests, each with very different political stances—might be methodologically flawed. However, as I reflect on one of these two simultaneous exhibitions, which rejects the heterosexist, patriarchal “big picture” in art history, my mind inevitably wanders to the other. Some of the questions Lacy placed on the museum steps or overlooking the Bosphorus gained particular prominence on Instagram. The title of one of the performances within the exhibition aptly describes these questions: “Silent Questions.” Questions silently, subtly, and without alarming the viewer: “Does gender matter?”, “What is in the interest of men?”, “Is the body a political tool?”, “Is prejudice inevitable?” And what does asking these questions lead to in the person being questioned?
Instead of these “silent questions,” I recommend looking at Sokol’s portraits in the Nobody’s Mother exhibition: because in those portraits, Sokol creates a ground for rethinking caregiving relationships, queer connections, and interspecies companionship. Donna Haraway, a critical post-human theorist, in her work Staying with the Trouble, proposes a conception of the Kthulusen alongside the Anthropocene and Capitalocene – but not an alternative to them – while considering the world around the idea of interspecies life. She offers this concept to name the conjuncture we are in. She explicitly states the slogan this conception needs: Make Kin Not Babies!
The Harawayian perspective, which emphasizes the importance of connections with human and non-human beings instead of reproduction, converges with Apolonia Sokol’s idea of a non-fertility-oriented life/togetherness depicted throughout the exhibition. The exhibition avoids producing clichés about motherhood; instead, it can draw the viewer’s attention to a large-scale abortion scene. In a time of increasing rightward shift, within this global context where anti-abortion movements and fertility policies are gaining strength across geographies, Sokol intervenes in this debate with a representation of abortion that is unusual in classical art history. In this respect, the exhibition has a shocking aspect. The pastel and warm tones that dominate the exhibition space add dramatic tension to the artist's rejection and radical stance.
Wasn't a similar effect, intervention, or activist effort needed among the questions that Suzanne Lacy, exhibiting at the Sabancı Museum, placed around the space? Against the cool backdrop of Emirgan, the question "What is Georg Baselitz doing here?" could have been exciting. Last season, the Sabancı Museum opened an exhibition of Georg Baselitz, Georg Baselitz: The Last Ten Years. The museum ignored the fact that Baselitz is an artist who has come to the forefront with his sexist statements against female artists. Following the sexist remarks she made, Jillian Steinhauer, then editor of Hyperallergic, would write that pervasive sexism reinforces decisions about who exhibits where, who can be written about, and who becomes more famous. We need a question and a voice that will disrupt precisely this reinforcement. It doesn't have to be "The Most Important Activism of the Century."
In the following section, I will focus entirely on Apolonia Sokol and her exhibition, Nobody’s Mother. Sokol, embracing the slogan Haraway suggested for Kthulusen, is in favor of exposing the injustices embedded in the politics of imagery in Western art history. She advocates for deconstructing the canonical works of the "father painters" and reproducing them with her own political language. A striking example of this is her transformation of the sexist power distribution among the figures in Manet's Luncheon on the Grass, creating space for queer bodies that cannot be shamed in any way. Through Arda Özen from Pill Gallery, I had the opportunity to ask Sokol about this tactic. He replies as follows:
“Boysan was Kaan’s closest friend. After Boysan’s terrible loss, Kaan asked me to paint a picture that would immortalize him as he remembered him. We set up a studio at Kaan’s house in Karaköy, and I began painting Boysan. But as time went on, I realized that the more I painted, the more Kaan was drawn into his grief. Day by day, he began to physically collapse, along with stomach aches. Witnessing the painting process was painful for him. Perhaps at that moment, I hadn’t fully understood how I should paint Boysan. So we decided that I should go home and paint the picture in my own studio, spreading it out over time. A few months later, I lost my closest friend. She, like Boysan, was an activist and a powerful political figure. Oxana was one of the founders of FEMEN, a Ukrainian sex activist and feminist revolutionary. I lost her to a tragic death; just as Kaan lost Boysan. I think I was able to paint Boysan after I was able to mourn my own loss. This is mourning for him.” "It doesn't mean I didn't hold back; but this was a different form of mourning. A bottomless pain that only the act of painting could console."
Apolonia is an artist primarily known for her portrait paintings. The people she depicts are mostly her friends, acquaintances, people she shared communities with, people she loved, and people she thought alike. Her large-scale portraits, also featured in the exhibition, never fail to fix their gaze on the viewer. The figures depicted are able to decide how they will be represented together with Apolonia. Although they couldn't reach this shared decision in the portrait she made for Boysan, the painting, in which she imagined him within a community, is a symbol of a bygone era.
“I painted a portrait of Boysan alone: a beautiful headscarf wrapped around his head, a tulle dress on him… Hairs growing circularly from his navel were like the epicenter of his being. His high-heeled shoes were firmly rooted in a background of gold leaf mosaics. Simultaneously, I painted another version of Boysan: this time surrounded by his friends. I knew some of them, and unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to meet others. Boysan was with his two friends, Zeliş Deniz and Mert Serçe, who died in the same traffic accident. We decided to dedicate this exhibition to Kaan; unfortunately, due to political reasons, we had to do it only behind closed doors.”
Following Sokol's paintings, it's possible to reach many places while looking at the "Year of the Family" campaign we left behind, fertility policies, and heteronormativity. However, I want to end where I started. What makes this ground opened by Sokol important and valuable – and also activist – is; It shows that we have the power to confront both colonial fantasy and the heterosexist world. Because, in fact, an artistic practice that doesn't directly target biopower, that doesn't see the intersections with different struggles, that misses the opportunity to say the right thing at the right time, risks being dragged along by the right-wing world. Or, in its simplest form, it risks becoming a museum piece. Sokol's art both explicitly warns against this and, as in the Nobody's Mother exhibition and other works of his practice, presents an aesthetic of rejection. While all the portraits in the exhibition fix their gaze on the viewer, withdrawing the gaze, Apolonia's turning her gaze to the side in the self-portrait that gives the exhibition its name can also be a visual expression of her break from the center. Last days for the exhibition… Don't miss it!
Source: https://sanatatak.com/modern_%C3%A7a%C4%9Fda%C5%9F/reddedis-estetigi-nobodys-mother/