queer (ab)uses of archives

Although it reminds us the dusty closets, the definition of archive gets even more blurry, while we are documenting our each day and clicking “archived” status for e-mails. Like all nonhegomonics who struggle to create alternative historicities instead of grand narratives, queers, being aware of practices of inclusion and exclusion strategies of archiving, brings the question of creating new archives against the History based on denial. This section called “queer (ab)uses of archives”, seeks for a queer remedy to the politics of memory and of forgetting with the films queering the archival materials by using creative collages. with different kinds of archival materials and thus creating new narratives. Films gathering 8mm home movies, the well-known film footages with intimate testimonies are in search of queer histories.  Esra Özban

Click here to take a look at the selection.

#BKKY

#BKKY

Arianna

Arianna

James Baldwin Selection

James Baldwin Selection

Glitch FF Selection: Persistence of Memory

Glitch FF Selection: Persistence of Memory

Who's Gonna Love Me Now?

Who's Gonna Love Me Now?

Portrait of Jason

Portrait of Jason

First Girl I Loved

First Girl I Loved

The Nest

The Nest

What He Did

What He Did

You’ll Never Be Alone

You’ll Never Be Alone

Real Boy

Real Boy

The Watermelon Woman

The Watermelon Woman

queer (ab)uses of archives

queer (ab)uses of archives

A Night at Pera Museum

A Night at Pera Museum

Celebrating its 10th anniversary this year, Pera Museum invites artist Benoît Hamet to reinterpret key pieces from its collections, casting a humorous eye over ‘historical’ events, both imagined and factual.

Paula Rego in Istanbul!

Paula Rego in Istanbul!

We, by which I mean some of my classmates and I, knew about Paula Rego. I’ll have to admit, I didn’t know where Rego was from or even where in Europe Portugal was. I thought she was English. Let me tell you how I first heard the very un-English sounding name “Paula Rego”

Midnight Stories: The Soul <br> Aşkın Güngör

Midnight Stories: The Soul
Aşkın Güngör

The wind blows, rubbing against my legs made of layers of metal and wires, swaying the leaves of grass that have shot up from the cracks in the tarmac, and going off to the windows that look like the eyes of dead children in the wrecked buildings that seem to be everywhere as far as the eye can see.