GMU:Re-enchanting the field/Öykü Türkan: Difference between revisions

Revision as of 13:25, 4 May 2025

How Long to Fill It Up? How Long to Empty?

(An exploration on borders, time, and queer ecologies)

The Narva River draws a line. People are stopped, while birds keep flying, the wind moves, and seeds scatter across.

I begin walking, not with the flow, but against it. Moving upstream becomes a way of thinking about time. Scoop water into a vessel, carry it, and pour it back in - a small loop. Not to change the river, but to listen to it. To sense how it holds, but also leaks.

This land has been filled before - with machines, noise, and smoke. And then emptied - of labour, people, and meaning.

This is not just about a place. It is about the systems we build to separate, control, and claim. And what happens when those systems collapse - when rivers keep flowing, and orchids bloom where no one is looking.

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Background Idea

The Narva River draws a sharp line between Estonia and Russia, both geographic and political. While it physically separates two countries, it also connects histories, ecologies, and lives that continue to flow across it in quiet ways. I will walk along the Estonian side, aware of the other shore — visible, close, yet unreachable to me.

The surrounding landscape carries the weight of past industries, Soviet occupation, and ecological extraction. The ash mountains stand as monumental scars. But beyond these large-scale histories, I’m drawn to subtler traces: textures, rhythms, and small presences that resist erasure.

I am interested in how the idea of a border is felt along the river, not just as a line of separation, but as something more fluid.

Work Description

During my time in Narva, I will walk along the river, observing, listening, and collecting impressions. Rather than following a strict concept, I want the work to emerge gradually, shaped by what the site offers and withholds. The outcome will be a video work that reflects these slow encounters.

The project title, How Long to Fill It Up? How Long to Empty?, is loosely inspired by a line from Klaus Rinke, who often used water as both material and metaphor for time. The title refers to a physical gesture I will repeat - scooping water from the river, carrying it, and pouring it back - but it also echoes broader cycles of accumulation and disappearance. How long does it take to fill a landscape with meaning, people, or industry? And how quickly can it be emptied?

As part of the process, I also hope to connect with people living near the border. I may ask someone who regularly crosses - for work, family, or necessity - to carry a small object from one side to the other: a plant, a stone. These will not be symbolic acts, but real exchanges. They reflect on what moves, what is held, and what leaks across borders - much like the river itself.

Filling and emptying becomes a way to sense the border — a place once full of work and noise, now quieter and marked by what remains. This work doesn’t try to explain, but to stay close to the textures and contrasts of a landscape shaped by both presence and loss.

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 '''Background Idea'''
-I want to spend time by the Narva River, which marks the border between Estonia and Russia. I’m not here to define or explain the river, but rather to be with it to walk alongside, observe, and stay open to whatever arises. The land around the river has been shaped by history, politics, and extraction. The nearby ash mountains, remnants of oil shale mining, are a visible mark of ecological damage and industrial presence. Rather than focusing on these systems, I want to pay attention to the smaller signs of the place - the textures and traces that hold both weight and uncertainty. I’m particularly interested in how time is experienced in this space, and how a queer ecological approach might open up new ways of relating to it in non-linear and open-ended ways.
+The Narva River draws a sharp line between Estonia and Russia, both geographic and political. While it physically separates two countries, it also connects histories, ecologies, and lives that continue to flow across it in quiet ways. I will walk along the Estonian side, aware of the other shore — visible, close, yet unreachable to me.
+The surrounding landscape carries the weight of past industries, Soviet occupation, and ecological extraction. The ash mountains stand as monumental scars. But beyond these large-scale histories, I’m drawn to subtler traces: textures, rhythms, and small presences that resist erasure.
+I am interested in how the idea of a border is felt along the river, not just as a line of separation, but as something more fluid.
 '''Work Description'''
-I will document my experience during my time there and aim to create a video work that reflects what I encounter. The process won’t follow a strict script or performative plan. Instead, I’ll gather visual and sonic impressions, which could include images of water, industrial ruins, plant life, or simple actions like carrying water. The structure will be non-linear, weaving together fragments into a poetic visual rhythm that reflects the uncertainty and openness of the place itself.
+During my time in Narva, I will walk along the river, observing, listening, and collecting impressions. Rather than following a strict concept, I want the work to emerge gradually, shaped by what the site offers and withholds. The outcome will be a video work that reflects these slow encounters.
+The project title, ''How Long to Fill It Up? How Long to Empty?'', is loosely inspired by a line from Klaus Rinke, who often used water as both material and metaphor for time. The title refers to a physical gesture I will repeat - scooping water from the river, carrying it, and pouring it back - but it also echoes broader cycles of accumulation and disappearance. How long does it take to fill a landscape with meaning, people, or industry? And how quickly can it be emptied?
+As part of the process, I also hope to connect with people living near the border. I may ask someone who regularly crosses - for work, family, or necessity - to carry a small object from one side to the other: a plant, a stone. These will not be symbolic acts, but real exchanges. They reflect on what moves, what is held, and what leaks across borders - much like the river itself.
+Filling and emptying becomes a way to sense the border — a place once full of work and noise, now quieter and marked by what remains. This work doesn’t try to explain, but to stay close to the textures and contrasts of a landscape shaped by both presence and loss.