Arts and crafts thrive in Fethiye’s magic beehive
Güncelleme Tarihi:
by Jane Tuna
Oluşturulma Tarihi: Mart 27, 2009 00:00
FETHİYE - Inside an unattractive building is kept one of the nicest places you may see in Fethiye.The Cultural Center may be aptly called as a ’creative beehive’ and offers classes where local residents are creating a whole range of arts and crafts of which this coastal town should be proud
Just when I think I have found out all there is to know about Fethiye, I stumble on something really wonderful. It’s one of the many things that make the town special.
This time, a suggestion from a friend sent me scampering to the Cultural Center, a building I have no love for, lacking, as it does, any aesthetic value or facilities for the disabled despite having been built as recently as 2005. Apart from attending concerts or cultural events there, I wince whenever I have to go near it.
That said, I was as pleased as punch to learn that hidden away in the building’s interior are some small studios where local residents are creating a whole range of arts and crafts of which Fethiye should rightly be proud.
The ceramics studio is a small, well-equipped room, where the teacher, Sibel, instructs a group of enthusiastic students who pay on a monthly basis to attend as many days as they want. Courses run throughout the year and in the summer months there are classes for schoolchildren, too.
Jean Evans joined the ceramics classes in 2005, shortly after the center opened, and is now enthusiastically working on some tiles depicting a whirling Mevlana, the great spiritual master and mystic poet. "I have always been creative," she said, "but since retiring and coming to live in Fethiye, coming here is a great way to meet people and learn about new crafts and Turkish culture. I would recommend it to anyone!"
Various crafts
Sitting next to her is Cihan Akman, a spritely septuagenarian who has just finished intricately decorating a large, elegant vase.
The unglazed objects are purchased from Kütahya, in western Turkey, by Sibel’s husband, who supplies the special paints that students use and comes to the studio to fire up the kiln when it is full. The studio also contains a potter’s wheel and molding facilities, and the students produce art based on traditional designs.
Across the hall, student Carmen Şahiner, originally from Spain, paints intricate miniatures with tiny brushes in the fine-art studio. Şahiner is surrounded by artists with different ideas; some large, surreal paintings dominate the room. Their teacher helps out when necessary. The atmosphere is quietly industrious and the results are astounding.
Downstairs, I discover some more studios that are also accessible from the street. Dr. Coşkun Keskin is surrounded by delicately hand-blown glass ornaments of his own creation and is always happy to run a course for students curious about his craft. The fragility of his work, glittering jewel-like in the sunshine, makes this a tempting idea.
Next door is Meryem Balıkçı and her carpet workshop. She studied carpet and kilim weaving in college and has had several British and German students. The results of her demanding craft adorn the walls and she is only too pleased to discuss the different techniques, patterns and traditions. The science of the dyes used in carpets is a fascinating topic and Balıkçı happily chats away while weaving a traditional Kaya rug.
Mysterious studio
Finally, I find a mysterious studio... mysterious because up until now I had known nothing about the art of Ebru, or marbling, an ancient craft that flourished during the Ottoman era. The accoutrements are intriguing: Horse-hair brushes, ox gall (used as a wetting agent), kitre (a kind of gum) and pigments drawn from natural elements and minerals are neatly lined up behind a galvanized steel tray that appears to have water in it.
I watch, entranced by teacher Esin Sükan’s skill with a drop of this and a splash of that. Sadly, this craft is dying out in Turkey. It certainly isn’t something that can be learned quickly, but it can open up a whole new world of unique swirling patterns. Sükan draws the paper out of the tray, revealing a rich mono-print and I am hooked.
What a joy to find this beehive of creativity. I am ashamed that I took the Cultural Center at its ugly face value and didn’t investigate it before. Now I must confront a new dilemma: which craft to attempt first.
This time, a suggestion from a friend sent me scampering to the Cultural Center, a building I have no love for, lacking, as it does, any aesthetic value or facilities for the disabled despite having been built as recently as 2005. Apart from attending concerts or cultural events there, I wince whenever I have to go near it.
That said, I was as pleased as punch to learn that hidden away in the building’s interior are some small studios where local residents are creating a whole range of arts and crafts of which Fethiye should rightly be proud.
The ceramics studio is a small, well-equipped room, where the teacher, Sibel, instructs a group of enthusiastic students who pay on a monthly basis to attend as many days as they want. Courses run throughout the year and in the summer months there are classes for schoolchildren, too.
Jean Evans joined the ceramics classes in 2005, shortly after the center opened, and is now enthusiastically working on some tiles depicting a whirling Mevlana, the great spiritual master and mystic poet. "I have always been creative," she said, "but since retiring and coming to live in Fethiye, coming here is a great way to meet people and learn about new crafts and Turkish culture. I would recommend it to anyone!"
Various crafts
Sitting next to her is Cihan Akman, a spritely septuagenarian who has just finished intricately decorating a large, elegant vase.
The unglazed objects are purchased from Kütahya, in western Turkey, by Sibel’s husband, who supplies the special paints that students use and comes to the studio to fire up the kiln when it is full. The studio also contains a potter’s wheel and molding facilities, and the students produce art based on traditional designs.
Across the hall, student Carmen Şahiner, originally from Spain, paints intricate miniatures with tiny brushes in the fine-art studio. Şahiner is surrounded by artists with different ideas; some large, surreal paintings dominate the room. Their teacher helps out when necessary. The atmosphere is quietly industrious and the results are astounding.
Downstairs, I discover some more studios that are also accessible from the street. Dr. Coşkun Keskin is surrounded by delicately hand-blown glass ornaments of his own creation and is always happy to run a course for students curious about his craft. The fragility of his work, glittering jewel-like in the sunshine, makes this a tempting idea.
Next door is Meryem Balıkçı and her carpet workshop. She studied carpet and kilim weaving in college and has had several British and German students. The results of her demanding craft adorn the walls and she is only too pleased to discuss the different techniques, patterns and traditions. The science of the dyes used in carpets is a fascinating topic and Balıkçı happily chats away while weaving a traditional Kaya rug.
Mysterious studio
Finally, I find a mysterious studio... mysterious because up until now I had known nothing about the art of Ebru, or marbling, an ancient craft that flourished during the Ottoman era. The accoutrements are intriguing: Horse-hair brushes, ox gall (used as a wetting agent), kitre (a kind of gum) and pigments drawn from natural elements and minerals are neatly lined up behind a galvanized steel tray that appears to have water in it.
I watch, entranced by teacher Esin Sükan’s skill with a drop of this and a splash of that. Sadly, this craft is dying out in Turkey. It certainly isn’t something that can be learned quickly, but it can open up a whole new world of unique swirling patterns. Sükan draws the paper out of the tray, revealing a rich mono-print and I am hooked.
What a joy to find this beehive of creativity. I am ashamed that I took the Cultural Center at its ugly face value and didn’t investigate it before. Now I must confront a new dilemma: which craft to attempt first.