Kineo | Furkan Öztekin

Accumulating with the Echo of a Broken String : On Rest

Accumulating with the Echo of a Broken String ^[1]: On Rest

Furkan Öztekin

February 2025

[^1]İ The title is rooted in the manifesto of Çıplak Ayaklar Kumpanyası. A broken string evokes for me something not going right or an excess of intervention. It brings to mind the transformation of Rest into a method of resistance against power-centered oppressions.

İz Öztat interrogates the persistence of violent histories through forms, materials, space, and language within a practice that unfolds along both collective and individual trajectories. This inquiry continuously generates new layers and alliances. Just as the body extends beyond its own boundaries to become a long-form narrative, Öztat’s works take shape through historical resonances. Over time, they seek responses to the voids they are compelled to inhabit through speculative and ghostly fictions transmitted across generations.

İz Öztat explores the manifestations of the past through various forms within a reality where agency is understood as a mode of communication born out of resistance and denial. With unwavering determination, she reconstructs the present using the means at her disposal. While seeking to uncover the resilient structure of memory, she intertwines both individual and collective narratives. Her installation Rest, on view at the Irish Museum of Modern Art in Dublin from February 15 to September 9, 2024, emerges from a similar point of departure.

Designed to be experienced across two separate rooms, this installation—much like Suspended, Öztat’s 2019 exhibition featuring Portable Dungeon: Inclined and Threshold—centers on the relationship between subject and power. Personal experiences are now part of the collective memory. In Suspended, Öztat indicated freedom of expression as a negotiated condition. In the exhibition Self-Determination: A Global Perspective, she presents a compelling proposition on existing under the shadow of systemic violence, resisting oppression, and the transmission of intergenerational traumas embedded in collective memory. This transmission not only evokes a language reminiscent of her past works but also asserts a distinct political stance. Rest serves as a reminder of the resilience of those who cannot freely express themselves in public spaces or who face violence when they do—subjects whose existence remains under the ownership of power. It extends beyond a physical installation spanning two rooms, opening up an intellectual space that transcends its immediate setting.

In the first room of the exhibition, various objects with historical references—familiar from Öztat’s past works—are displayed. A red fabric cascading from the ceiling to the floor, a wooden barrel bearing multiple interventions, and pot lids positioned on a floor divided by red strips remain suspended in space like fragments of a dynamic historical narrative. This installation, which appears both meticulously constructed and serendipitous, stages a narrative of resistance through each of its constituent elements. Similar to I’m Not Dealing with Triangle, Square, and Circle, Öztat’s 2012 solo exhibition at Maçka Art Gallery, these objects give the impression of being temporarily placed or entrusted within the space. This dynamic interplay between objects also recalls Soft Belly and Uf, the latter created in collaboration with Ra, a spectral partner who has accompanied Öztat since 2010. However, this time, we sense a different kind of alliance—one that diverges from her long standing engagement with Zişan (1894–1970), a historical figure and ghostly presence that has haunted her practice for years. Though not directly invoked, traces of Zişan’s presence and archival imagery subtly resonate within the spirit of Rest.

The exhibition Self-Determination: A Global Perspective examines the role of art and artists in the expression of national identities, nation-building, and state formation, taking as its point of departure the emergence of the modern nation-state in the aftermath of World War I.^[2] İz Öztat’s installation in the exhibition creates a space for questioning the mechanisms of domination imposed by nation-states and the resistance strategies developed in response. It offers the viewer a ground shaped—however temporarily—by collective experiences, marked by the presence of borders.

 At the core of Rest lies movement as an intrinsic aspect of the body and the resistance it engenders. Produced in collaboration with Çıplak Ayaklar Kumpanyası (ÇAK), the half-hour video explores new ways of interpreting dance as a form of resistance that transcends boundaries and becomes inscribed in the body. Reflecting the spirit of the ÇAK—unfixed, constantly shifting, and open to experimentation—this collaboration embraces a narrative where contemporary art, dance, and performance intertwine. 

^[2] Manu Sharma, İz Öztat’s 'Rest' explores art’s power to fight state-sponsored oppression, STIR, 29.08.2024

Here, dance is not merely a movement or a form of expression; it is an endless search for how the body can navigate the weight of history. The speculative narratives and fictions frequently present in Öztat’s work take on a new form in the dancers’ movements, their interactions with objects, their gestures, and their pauses. These forms are as sharp as they are ephemeral. This pursuit of form—open to intervention, resilient, and polyphonic—resonates with the manifesto of Çıplak Ayaklar Kumpanyası, transforming the body into a vessel for collective narratives. Emerging from the intersection of dance and performance, Rest makes visible the political and critical potentials of movement, reminding us that movement leaves traces not only on stage but also within histories marked by catastrophe. In an era of increasing authoritarianism, this performative inquiry seeks new paths forward, inviting the audience to become part of transnational resistance narratives born out of oppression. The language of the body reawakens the violence of the past, giving voice to what has remained (un)speakable.

İz Öztat’s artistic practice is often in close dialogue with documents from Zişan’s archive and collective histories. In this context, Rest is shaped by the intricate relationship between the artist’s subjective experiences and historical ruptures. Incorporating the multiple meanings of the word “rest” into its process, the performance offers a direct critique of the authoritarian codes underlying nation-state formation while simultaneously exploring how these codes can be deconstructed.

As Öztat states in her interview with STIR: The film starts with the top-down imposition of arbitrary borders. (...) Eventually, everyone on the ground mobilises around a common demand for justice, forcing the authority figure to come down and they all undo the imposed borders as part of a peace negotiation sequence.”^[3]

[3^]

 Manu Sharma, İz Öztat’s Rest explores art’s power to fight state-sponsored oppression, STIR, 29.08.2024

At this point, the multilayered connotations of the word "rest” can be seen as forming the conceptual framework of the performance. For Öztat and the performance artists, “rest” signifies both identities that have been suppressed and internalized by society, as well as resilient bodies that are forced to bear the weight of systemic violence. The word evokes the burden of violence stemming from power’s fantasy of exerting control over others, as well as the collective dimension of mourning within today’s cycle of violence. Perhaps, finally, it represents a state of healing attained through the struggle for liberation.

Rest's narrative is not confined to a single geography; it reminds us of all the stories of resistance enacted across different places and times. Additionally, it points to the enduring narratives of resistance spanning generations against systemic violence, the systematic oppression experienced in Turkey, and the criminalization of dissenting voices. In this context, it is important to highlight İz Öztat's multi-part installation Who Carries The Water (2015), produced in collaboration with Fatma Belkıs for the 14th Istanbul Biennial. Emerging from the need to better understand local ecological movements, Who Carries The Water draws inspiration from the struggle itself and, when appropriate, from its aesthetics, much like Rest.

By often drawing from personal memories, the Çıplak Ayaklar Kumpanyası^[4] activates the collective memory of dance, further deepening the political dimension of Rest. Öztat’s camaraderie with ÇAK reveals the transformative power of movement, gesture, and rhythm within the narrative of resistance. The dancers are not merely bodies following a specific text or choreography; they are beings that continuously reproduce the narrative, shape the space they inhabit, and carry collective memory. Beginning with Öztat’s objects that propose a complex temporality, the dance operates as a ritual, transforming into the recounting of experiences by bodies subjected to systemic violence and generations etched with the memory of oppression, all while harnessing the liberating potential of movement. Movement now becomes an expression of rebellion, resistance, and a mode of mourning. Rest boldly opens doors to gestures that evoke submission, resistance, grief, confrontation, and negotiation.

[4^]

We can exemplify this context with the performance Shadow Data, in which the Çıplak Ayaklar Kumpanyası examines the relationship between dance and memory.

At the beginning of the text, I described Rest as “a narrative where contemporary art, dance, and performance intertwine.” This characterization can be further elaborated; the Çıplak Ayaklar Kumpanyası’s staging practice, which embraces the ethos of “preferring to be a broken string rather than the player,” converges with İz Öztat’s archival research methodology to create a structure that not only traces the footprints of the past but also develops new imaginings of contemporary forms of resistance. In this context, the dance we refer to as having transformative power emerges within Rest not merely as a form that provides aesthetic experience, but as a medium through which collective memory is embodied. It highlights how movement can serve as a vehicle for social narrative, channeling the complexities of historical and present-day struggles while fostering a shared sense of identity and resistance among participants and audiences alike.

In the final scene, the authoritarian figure is drawn to the surface, and the rigidly established boundaries are redefined by all. At this juncture, Rest transcends the performance itself, transporting us directly to a stage set within the artists’ rehearsals. It is here that Rest defiantly refuses to reach completion. Instead of leading the audience to a specific conclusion or resolution, it invites them to reflect on ongoing struggles for rights across different geographies and to expand their own spheres of action. By emphasizing the transformative power of alternative solidarity practices, it guides us toward a vision of the future in which boundaries are defined collaboratively. This invitation fosters a sense of shared responsibility and agency, encouraging viewers to engage actively with the complex realities of resistance and to envision new possibilities for collective action.