[ 089 ]
1
Ci Demi (TR),
Unutursan Darılmam
(1) Please introduce yourself: What is your name, where are you from, what do you do?
I'm Ci Demi from İstanbul, I was born in 1986. I'm a photographer. I mainly make social documentary and personal stories about İstanbul, my photographic work is completely focused on the city and myself. In my previous life, I studied electronics and Italian Literature in university. Later, I moved onto work as a copywriter, then creative director at various advertising agencies for nine years. I discovered photography in 2015. I photographed house concerts of İstanbul for three years and worked as a photo/videojournalist for two years. Finally, I decided to completely focus on my own stories and I've been doing so ever since.
(2) What is your relationship with photography and how did you get into it?
My relationship with photography started later in life, when I was 28 years old. After poaching a massive client at my former advertising agency, I was given a bonus. Using that money, I acquired a brand-new camera (Fujifilm X-E2, if you're curious). To this day, I still don't know why I did that. I had never been particularly interested in photography. I'm a very mission-driven person, I like doing things for a certain purpose; so, I started teaching photography to myself. After figuring out technical bits to a degree, I dove into the history of it all, started looking at a lot of photographs and paintings. Then, I decided to become a war photographer, because all the greats were doing it. An interesting motivation, I know. Having been to war (2015, the Southeastern Turkey), my focus on why I wanted to do photography completely shifted: I wanted to discover my identity and my city using photography. I had already been doing that by writing all my life, I just changed my medium. Photography became my best friend, my therapy, and my way of navigating life.
(3) What do you think triggers you to photograph in a certain moment? Is it planned or solely driven by intuition?
I would say both. None of my pictures are staged (aside from portraits), every single one of them is something I've come across. But also, I work like I'm writing a fictional novel, I go out to collect certain moments to complete the story I've got in mind. I look for the nostalgic, romantic, eerie, and absurd. When I see it, I know that that particular moment belongs in my story; so, I go grab it no matter what. It doesn't matter if I get yelled at, I have to make that picture. I always plan where in the city I will visit next, what kind of pictures I'm hoping to collect, then I go do it.
(4) What is the story you want your pictures to tell?
Primarily, I very much want them to convey the way interact with İstanbul, the way I explore life. I don't particularly photograph to document (but I inevitably do it by capturing a moment in time) but when I do, I want it to become a part of the story I'm shooting; become the next paragraph of the imaginary novel that I'm writing visually. My pictures should carry clues about my childhood, show my endless affection for this chaotic city, make you shudder, and force you to ask what it is that you are seeing. If a picture manages to do at least one of them, I consider that I've completed that paragraph.
(5) Which city would you like to visit the most, and why?
I have no burning desire to visit another city, I've found my true calling: it's İstanbul. But if I have to choose, I actually would like to become a tourist without a camera in New York City. Mainly because it's similar to İstanbul in many ways, I would love to get lost and get into trouble in it.
(6) What is your personal relationship to cities and how do you perceive them as places in general?
My work is a response to this very question, I think. The city is both the background and a character of my stories. It's this endless space in which I'm very much addicted to getting lost. I see every single building as these boxes of stories; be it about their inhabitants or the architecture of it. The streets are my rivers, the topography is the sea I inevitably find myself in. I belong to İstanbul, İstanbul is mine. That's how I see my city.
(7) Regarding your project Unutursan Darılmam: What was your intention, and how did you come up with the idea?
Unutursan Darılmam (I Won't Be Sad If You Forget Me) is a very personal story about both İstanbul and myself. You see, in 2019, I considered leaving the city for good, going somewhere else and quit photography. It was a turbulent time in my life. Whilst I was walking in the streets, all of a sudden, the name of the story just came to my mind: it was something İstanbul was telling me—«If you must go, just go; promise, I won't be sad if you forget me.» Right then and there, I started working on it (I always have my camera with me, as an advantage of exclusively using a point-and-shoot camera) and decided not to leave after all. It's a story about «İstanbul, the signs of being left behind, and dealing with loneliness» as I once wrote whilst describing it. I left the house only around ten times during the year that I started this project (I have bipolar disorder; I was in a huge, crippling depressive episode—I'm fine now). A huge part of the pictures of this story was made on the rare occasion I left the house. And those photographs... they are heavy, the viewer can sense that. A longing and a lust for life is attached to them.
(8) Which project did you never finish?
In my photojournalism days, I teamed up with a writer and set out to make a story about former soldiers who had been wounded during anti-terrorist operations but weren't officially recognised as war veterans by the state. I was going to call it Hurt Division. Sadly, in December 2017, my harddisk got stolen along with my camera and computer. I could never finish it. I've got only one picture from that project.
(9) What is that «one thing» you have never managed to photograph and is now gone for good?
I wanted to make a proper portrait of my grandma but I kept putting it off because we lived together, «I can take the picture any time» I thought. Her passing was sudden. Now, I am left with only a picture of her deathbed and some pictures from her funeral.
(10) If you could travel back / forth in time, what advice would you give your younger / older self?
I would definitely travel back in time and make my younger self listen to These Things Take Time by The Smiths, and tell him to pay attention to the lyrics. Once the song is over, I would say: «Be patient, everything you've been dreaming of will become a reality in ways that you never expect.»
(11) What do you prefer saying: To «take a photograph» or to «make a photograph», and why?
I use both, but they don't mean the same thing to me. Taking a photograph is an artisan act, more technical. Meanwhile, making one is more artistic—you take it, process it, sequence it, see how it interacts with the rest of the story, et cetera.
(12) What is the most interesting experience you have had while photographing?
I could write for days and I wouldn't be able to come close to describe all of the interesting experiences I've had thanks to photography. Photography turned me into an interesting person, too, when you think about it. But no, I'm going to mention something I don't often have a chance to tell—it was a commercial job: I photographed the entirety of Sónar Festival İstanbul on my own in 2018, using only a compact camera (Fujifilm X100F, it has a fixed 35mm lens, that's it). So, having only one camera with no zoom capabilities, I had to get on the stage to get portraits. I had an unbelievable access to everywhere, and I got to experience music in a way no one could. I mean, I got to photograph Fatboy Slim. We were both on the same stage. It was out of this world.
(13) If it wasn’t for photography, what would you be interested in doing instead?
I would either stay as a writer, or if I felt more adventurous, I would possibly try to learn graphic design. If it weren't for photography though, I don't think I would get into visual arts to this degree.
(14) How would you describe one of your pictures to a visually impaired person?
We are in a field. We can hear the faint rustling of the leaves. You feel sad, but at the same time, you feel the morning sun on your eyelids. This is what I would call red. The tree—it's completely red.
(15) What are you currently working on, and—if there is—what is your next project or journey?
I'm currently working on Unutursan Darılmam, mainly to turn it into a book. I've got around 200 selected photographs for it, I'm constantly editing them, discarding some of them, and so on. It's a very engaging process. I'm hoping to finish the book some time this year. I also recently started shooting a new project titled ↘︎ Never Say I Didn't Love You. In this project, I attempt to explore that feeling followed by a sad break-up, using visuals from the city. It's in its infancy for the time being but my plan is to turn the series into an exhibition some time in the future.
Thank you, Ci.
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Images
1–14 Ci Demi, Unutursan Darılmam, Istanbul, Türkiye 2016–2021.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14