When music resists violence
When music resists violence
When music resists violence
ANF interviewed Murat Öztürk, musician from Alatav band who also was a member of the Siya Siyabend - a political band of street musicians featuring in Fatih Akın's Crossing the Bridge film.
The Alatav band was founded about four years ago but the musical past of the members goes back 15 years.
It’s a professional but independent band. Despite having begun their journey playing with different bands, the members over time developed a common outlook which led to the current Alatav shape. The biggest difference between them and other groups is that they are completely outside the chain that dictates the commercial music world.
With this conscious approach they have refused all attempts to be integrated in the world of record companies and deliberately have chosen to play in the streets where the biggest audiences can be found. Instead of just being classic buskers, they use the streets to record, produce and market their music.
The group predominantly uses the santur, guitar, ney and percussion instruments.
Led by Ahmet “Hemo” Öztürk, the Alatav band got together to work upon developing new interpretations of Anatolian folk music, sayings and compositions using the santur. Over time, Mübin Dünen introduced the ney, Gencer Savaş percussion and Hakan Gürbüz the guitar and bass. Having started playing in the streets, the group began to receive invitations and played at live music venues and, starting with events arranged by universities, at various festivals. Last of all they were joined by Ulaş Deli playing the guitar and Murat “Dede” Öztürk, whenever he has time off from other projects, playing a number of instruments.
As Alatav is still giving street performances, you can come across them anywhere at any time.
What is the reason why you go beyond the ordinary and prefer streets to stages to perform your art?
It has quite practical reasons such as meeting people face to face on streets, embracing them without a means, sharing the same ground with them and getting involved in the fluency of the daily life. What this means is breaking the ground on the street. Even on the İstiklal Avenue where one's attention could so easily be distracted, you resonate in such a way that you could find yourself listening to the moments of silence in the music.
Considering the political attitude born by the music you make and the way you present it, what sort of a relation do you think art, or music, should have with the life, human and the society?
When we first started to perform our art on streets in 90's, police would simply take us into custody even when we sang love songs, on the grounds that we were breaking the law on meetings and demonstrations. That is to say that even our stance itself was becoming an unrestrainable political expression for it was the first time they faced with such a situation. As is said by the poet as well, [referring to Edip Cansever and his poem Mendilimde Kan Sesleri], one looks like the place it lives in, and we are also the witnesses of this territory which is the fate of ours.
We witnessed the music resisting against violence in a photo which became one of the iconic images of the Gezi resistance that expanded across the country last June. Which song were you playing when the photo was taken and what were you telling the policemen waiting ready to attack before you?
Playing the Hayyam song composed by my dear friend Hakan Ozboz, a song we played while in Siya Siyabend too, I was trying to relieve the apprehension of the people behind me and calling them to stand together.
How would you describe the scene you witnessed on Istanbul streets during the Gezi resistance? What did you see on the streets that went beyond the usual life and became a scene of resistance?
Gezi resistance was something new that just managed to bring people together. People who used to carry skiver while walking around in Dolapdere and Nişantaşı came together at Gezi Park and offered each other water and bread. This they would normally not do, except for cases of death or an earthquake for example. This is a revolution people felt in their bodies. May they recover soon!
Will you continue performing your music on streets? What is it that you are trying to do by establishing a direct relationship with people on streets?
I am a musician and I do not mean to be described as a street musician alone. I play my guitar in the bedroom of Kurdish construction workers in a winter day, at a lecture hall of a university, at a rest house I happen to pass while hitchhiking, or in a music recording studio. All I would like to do is to play my guitar and sing my songs at uplands not ruled by money.