NATURE WHISPERS THROUGH PINAR BAKLAN'S ORGANIC FORMS

Artist Pınar Baklan uses her artwork as a medium for what she cannot express individually; she says whatever she wants to say through her works. She wants her biomorphic forms to resemble not just one thing, but many things in nature, saying, "Let an organic form belonging to nature whisper something to us silently…"

FATMA BATUKAN BELGE

On your Instagram account, you describe yourself with the phrase: “Former academic, now villager, PhD-holding clay worker, independent artist!” We'll discuss these in more detail, but first, I'd like to learn about your first encounter with ceramics. How did the idea of ​​studying ceramics come about? What was it about clay that attracted you?

I first encountered clay when I won a place in the Ceramics Department at Hacettepe University's Faculty of Fine Arts through the entrance exam and began my education. Entering the Faculty of Fine Arts was my main goal; the ceramics department came about by chance. But I've thought for years that no other department would have satisfied me as much. It's a field that encompasses science, tradition, craft, technology, history, painting, sculpture, and graphic design. I believe a ceramic artist practices their profession at its most competent level when they are proficient in many of these areas. Clay, with its endless possibilities, offers the artist a whole world; it's a tremendous creative material. I have immense respect for it. I had the same feelings and thoughts when I first started working. In fact, I haven't worked with any materials other than clay until now. Because for me, this endless world has so many more possibilities to explore. It offers a never-ending opportunity for learning and creation.

Graduating from school with an honors degree, followed by a master's degree, a proficiency in arts, and teaching… In 2021, you resigned and distanced yourself from academic life. What was the reason? Are there aspects of academic life that limit artists?

Actually, from the moment I started my undergraduate studies, I always dreamed of becoming an academic. I was also a hardworking and curious student. That's why I pursued my goal of becoming an academic. During my 12 years in academia, while developing myself, I also did many things for the students. I worked very hard for my institution. We were a very young and dynamic team. I frequently participated in international events. I had no problems with my faculty. But I had decided that I had received more than enough from academia and given more than I could. Between classes, theses, meetings, articles, and academic events, I continued to produce work non-stop. But there was one thing I dreamed of and wondered about: if I had my own studio and lived solely by creating art, without being distracted by anything else, could I make a living? And I thought, why not wait until retirement, why not try it while I'm young and dynamic? I knew it was very difficult to survive as a freelance artist. But I thought, if not now, when will I try? And I told myself that if I failed, at most I would just say, "It didn't work, I couldn't do it," and reconsider going back to the academy. But I didn't want to have lived this life without ever trying. For six years now, I've been very happy with my decision. I hope it continues this way. The academy has many advantages, but it's not suitable for an artist who wants to spend all day producing in a studio. You have to do a little bit of everything at once. But I wanted to do one thing in depth.

Even though you've stopped teaching at the university, do you continue to teach at your studio?

When I first opened my studio after resigning, I was giving classes suitable for all levels, even though I didn't really want to. Making a living as a freelance artist was difficult, and to survive, I had to teach classes and, although I didn't prefer it, create functional works for the market.

Last year, I started giving 3-day advanced courses as a guest artist once or twice a year at the studio of my dear colleague Metin Ertürk. But other than that, I don't give regular classes. Now I prefer to use my time creating works for exhibitions and international events, and for collectors who request them.

You left behind both academic life and city life. What have you gained from being close to nature? Are you happy with this "new rural" situation?

I've transformed from someone who used to take the elevator to their apartment to someone who carries belongings and artwork up and down to their house, which has no road access, using a wheelbarrow. I've learned things I never knew I had before. Village life, especially in the Aegean region, looks very pleasant from the outside, and it certainly is, but it has its own immense challenges. Natural events like fires, floods, storms, and fallen trees have been the most challenging aspects of this new life for me. Each one was a difficult test, and you can never say you've passed it. Because they are major, ongoing disasters. Dealing with them, and then trying to live cautiously by taking precautions, makes you more resilient even though it's exhausting. And things that seem very difficult at first start to become normal as you struggle. But for all of this, I think you need to love it very much, not to leave, but to stay. It's hard to live village life without loving it very much. Despite all the difficulties, I love it very much and no longer want to live in the city or anywhere else.

You were deeply affected by the forest fires that occurred in recent years. Could you tell us a little about your experiences during that time?

Two months after I made the decision to settle here, a huge fire started. When it started, it was very far from our house; we saw it from the sea and immediately went home. It was such a terrible thing; with strong winds, it swept away huge areas in seconds. These are very mountainous areas, and the mountains are covered with forests. For five days, we watched helplessly, day and night, without sleeping, as it slowly descended from those mountains and began to reach our homes. For days, ash rained down from the sky; the sky was red instead of blue, and everywhere was smoke. When it gets this big, there's nothing left to do. They wait for it to reach residential areas so that houses can be defended. We were evacuated at that moment. It was like a scene from the apocalypse. A vast forest area was lost. The lush green areas you used to see every time you opened your window turned into a black graveyard of trees. The smell of soot lingered for months. You didn't want to look around or breathe. It was much harder after the fire. That was the first time I considered moving somewhere else. I was emotionally devastated. The village, the neighborhood, the city, along with all its inhabitants, turned into a black ruin. And it was very difficult to stay. But, as I've done throughout my life, I found solace in creating. The only way to overcome this trauma, however difficult it was at the time, was to go into the studio. And that's what I did. Afterwards, therapy sessions were a great help.

When we think of Pınar Baklan's ceramics, the first things that come to mind are biomorphic forms; some are very abstract, while others, with their necks and outward-opening mouths, allude to more familiar beings. Do these forms convey any messages to us?

Actually, whatever I can't express individually, whatever I want to say, I use my work as a medium. I realized this years later. Whatever I want to say, I say it through my work. Or they say it for me. For example, the subject of communication... I believe that everything can be solved with proper communication and that good communication allows you to breathe. That's why my works speak either to each other or to the viewer. Each one has tiny holes symbolizing an eye watching us or an ear listening, and a neck, throat, and mouth that opens and extends outwards to speak or breathe. Many viewers compare my works to women's bodies, seeds, organs, and animals. And I think that's beautiful, because I want them to resemble not just one thing, but many things in nature. An organic form from nature that whispers something to us silently.

The debate between ceramics and sculpture has been discussed extensively in previous years. I don't think it's relevant anymore today. For example, you define yourself as a "clay worker," but we wouldn't object if you called yourself a sculptor. Would you express yourself using a different material instead of clay?

I describe my profession as being an artist. When asked about my specialization, I say I create sculptures using ceramic materials. Actually, I would love to express myself with other materials as well. But frankly, I've never had the courage, and I still don't. Because I believe a material represents a whole world. First, you need to explore that world and understand all its possibilities in order to use it in the most effective way. That's why, while I'm still trying to explore the vast world of ceramic materials, I haven't dared to step into another world. Maybe I can try it in the future. Because creating art is an endless, limitless journey.

One of the advantages of ceramics is that it allows for the use of color, and you seem to enjoy using color. In recent years, fluorescent colors have become increasingly common in ceramics. How do you evaluate these new global trends? Is there a kind of fashion in ceramic art as well?

We now live in a world where there are many professional artists alongside amateurs and hobbyists, and millions of ceramic works are produced every day. Everyone follows an existing path according to their taste and goals, or tries the most untried, the never-before-done. Technology, of course, contributes greatly to these new experiments. In this sense, I think we live in an amazing era. The possibilities are limitless, and people are curious. This makes the approach to materials more daring. Although I have a classical perspective and a traditional aesthetic taste, and produce accordingly, I greatly appreciate the bold approaches many artists take to materials. I particularly admire works that experimentally combine clays, glazes, glass, metal, and vibrant pigments, and especially those that consciously manipulate kiln graphics to achieve conscious results. In this sense, I definitely find a very beautiful trend. But the timeless classical approach, which always remains outside of trends, also endures.

In recent contemporary art exhibitions and collections, we are encountering many ceramic works. Can we say that the era of galleries in Türkiye that don't want to host ceramic exhibitions and collectors who don't want to buy ceramics is coming to an end?

Absolutely… I would say this understanding is already very old and unconscious. And thankfully, it's disappearing. Especially with the contemporary ceramic works exhibited at very important international fairs, with new and very modern approaches, with installations… I think that, in addition to the contributions of our master teachers, we and the next generation have made a huge contribution to changing this understanding. I believe that the contribution of bold works that blend tradition with the new and contemporary, and of independent artists and studio artists who are actively working, producing, and exhibiting, is significant.