A performative installation work held as an intervention to The Hague carpet store De Perzen in January 2022.

(in some terms) 

A piled up spread around close to heart playtime attempt to honor and release my childhood spent in carpet stores.

(in my terms)

(I am a pile, resting, before and after my function.)


I never told anyone this but the morning of Friday the 28th I went to De Perzen somewhat as a performer.

I would place and install and reinstall printed pages of poems, writings, photographs, archival objects, hand-sewn fabrics and rolls of paper around the carpet store,
one that inevitably resembles to, but is smaller than the one I grew up in as a child.

During two hours I would lift up, spread out, separate and pile up carpets and kilims.
I would, in a way, mimic the movements of how a shopkeeper finds their way around a carpet store.

I would then achieve sculptural, static images that intervene and play with the material and the visual reality of carpet beds and rolls that come as a given.

I would ask for the visitors to come smell the carpets, to smell the store as a totality.

I would repeatedly do the heavy lifting on-site, like my father and my grandfather did to make a living.

I would draw the audience in my own references and memories with knots and threads.
I would perhaps surprise the daily customer with additional things to see and read in between these woven trade objects.

I would screen the short film I made against a wall, and make everyone sit on a carpet bed to watch it.
And with that I would remember the times I was scolded in our living room, looking down, only to see that there was always a carpet on the floor, in which I would loose myself, and that of which I would memorize the patterns in shame as a kid. 

I would present my piled up words and let them dangle from the sides with the tassels.

I would release the knots down my throat, those that have been sitting there for three generations, by sometimes talking about what I was doing, and explaining who the person is in that photograph.

I would let the shop owners tell their own story and briefly connect with my intimate crowd of visitors.

I would find myself in my playground.

I would find myself in a funeral house.

I would find myself reclaiming a territory that once belonged to my family, marked by pain and sorrow, and make it mine.

I would find myself in a hand-over,
a take-over,
and see out from there what comes.

And so it was. That’s how it happened.  

In the end we held conversations drinking tea together.
I hereby thank Jamshid and Nuri for their trust in opening their doors to us and for providing the space this work needed.

Michaela Cagáňova (digital) & Ceren Yılmaz (analog)

                  OR SHAME IN PATTERNS 
                                OR WHERE TO PUT ALL THE SORROW


                    WATCH ON VIMEO

                ARCHIVE & RESEARCH


(this is my war againts all fonts,
this is my war againts all odds)

Devir - Teslim was made possible with heartfelt thanks to:

İmani (Jamshid) & Nuri

Michaela Cagáňova

Oktay Yılmaz

Ceren Yılmaz

Angelina Nonaj

Onur Tayranoğlu

Batuhan Keskiner

Ayla Zengin

Ferdinand Waas

Guenn Ramon Gustina