“In times like these, we’re in dire need of art to grow hope, to communicate, and to open closed minds and public spaces,” says Cevdet Erek as he gazes at the Bosphorus from a café in Rumeli Fortress. He asked himself “What should we display…
“40 years ago, there was another all-encompassing system. It was in the Soviet Union. But by the 1970s, the system was starting to crack. Russia became a society where everyone knew that what their leaders said was not real. Because they could see with their own eyes that the economy was falling along. But everybody had to play along and pretend that it was real. Because no-one could imagine any alternative. One Soviet writer called it HyperNormalisation. You were so much a part of the system, that it was impossible to see beyond it.”
Dilara Sakpınar begins her sentence with “I was looking at old pictures the other day…” She adds, “I also listened to a few of our old records,” as she remembers a few of the songs she’s recorded in the past, looking around the studio we’re in. “I feel like I’ve grown up. It might sound like a cliché, however I feel good when I look back at that journey. It’s really nice to still continue doing music.”
We meet up with mor ve ötesi in the Babajim İstanbul studio to talk about their past 20 years, across from the English Consulate in Galatasaray. Like the rest of Beyoğlu, this section has also changed a lot. Compared to the time when mor ve ötesi was formed around these streets, the people and the places are not the same anymore. You don’t even have to go back 20 years.
“Everyone in the band are at a very good point in their lives,” Fran Healy begins to say. Having based himself in Berlin for a while now, the lead singer of Travis is very happy about the life he is leading. However this happiness hasn’t affected the blue atmosphere of Travis’ music.