The conspiracy room
Enjoying the city's unique jewels, the honest friendliness, hospitality and open gentle hearts of its people, I discover on my walkabout an old palace. It dates back to the Ottoman times, located in the heart of ‘Little Istanbul’, where the city's Ottoman-serving aristocracy had their houses - homes to important judges and law-makers.
I enter the palace. In its far corner I find a hidden room, not very welcoming but intriguing being full of suspense by the dust of today’s mysteries. It assembles relicts of being training and meeting room – some desks and books are there. Confidential codes, techniques and strategies are drawn in chalk on the walls and the floor. On the desks some documents and images are placed. The room - a data mine. In one corner there is a stove with leftovers of burned documents.
The room feels dark. A smell of unidentified danger and secrets is floating in the dust loaded air. It seems abandoned, but yet there are signs that someone has left a moment before.
What is this room about? Who was meeting here – friends, accomplices, traitors or enemies? For what mission? Is there a link to the judges and lawmakers of previous time? What is here to be judged? From which point of view?
All identities are eliminated to be kept highly confidential. Yet there is one identity visible: a biometrical blueprint not burned completely. Next to it you find a package of Parliament cigarettes and a bottle of Parfait Amour. Who decided to burn and to save then? For what purpose? To enlighten the secret?
I dive in the fragmented confidential information – the deeper I go, the louder the room echoes conspiracy. Trying to read the mysteriousness of the documents, I notice, as an outsider you are never able to read the secrets. Yet as an insider you might be too involved in the subjectivity of circumstances. To be able to read you have to reach the insideoutside view. Are secrets truths? The fragments are contradicting. But yet all touch wound spots and areas of discomfort by issuing negative psychograms and disturbances. One side of the coin.
Abu Noor signed the wall. A reminder: To see the light, you have to see the dark before? ‘Natural disasters in the heartland of the real’ is scrawled over one desk. Next to it lays a scholarly text titled ‘Dark Powers’. The real turning to fiction to reach the insideoutside view? The identities in the documents are blacked out. To save the identities? To keep the conspiracy? What is real? What is fictitious? Do the members of the conspiracy know? Or are they undermined and confused by their own strategies now hurting themselves, when entering the heartland of the real?
The play within the play. Desire is dangerous. Curiosity can kill. Does the one censored and strictly confidential not to be disclosed subject shows beauty by stating ‘We love you’?
I enter the palace. In its far corner I find a hidden room, not very welcoming but intriguing being full of suspense by the dust of today’s mysteries. It assembles relicts of being training and meeting room – some desks and books are there. Confidential codes, techniques and strategies are drawn in chalk on the walls and the floor. On the desks some documents and images are placed. The room - a data mine. In one corner there is a stove with leftovers of burned documents.
The room feels dark. A smell of unidentified danger and secrets is floating in the dust loaded air. It seems abandoned, but yet there are signs that someone has left a moment before.
What is this room about? Who was meeting here – friends, accomplices, traitors or enemies? For what mission? Is there a link to the judges and lawmakers of previous time? What is here to be judged? From which point of view?
All identities are eliminated to be kept highly confidential. Yet there is one identity visible: a biometrical blueprint not burned completely. Next to it you find a package of Parliament cigarettes and a bottle of Parfait Amour. Who decided to burn and to save then? For what purpose? To enlighten the secret?
I dive in the fragmented confidential information – the deeper I go, the louder the room echoes conspiracy. Trying to read the mysteriousness of the documents, I notice, as an outsider you are never able to read the secrets. Yet as an insider you might be too involved in the subjectivity of circumstances. To be able to read you have to reach the insideoutside view. Are secrets truths? The fragments are contradicting. But yet all touch wound spots and areas of discomfort by issuing negative psychograms and disturbances. One side of the coin.
Abu Noor signed the wall. A reminder: To see the light, you have to see the dark before? ‘Natural disasters in the heartland of the real’ is scrawled over one desk. Next to it lays a scholarly text titled ‘Dark Powers’. The real turning to fiction to reach the insideoutside view? The identities in the documents are blacked out. To save the identities? To keep the conspiracy? What is real? What is fictitious? Do the members of the conspiracy know? Or are they undermined and confused by their own strategies now hurting themselves, when entering the heartland of the real?
The play within the play. Desire is dangerous. Curiosity can kill. Does the one censored and strictly confidential not to be disclosed subject shows beauty by stating ‘We love you’?
Comment
-
Comment by san on October 30, 2008 at 11:37am -
thank you for the comment and leaving the note in the room : NO WRONG which creates more questions.
background information: All the fragments exposed are real quotes, stories & documents the agent received by other persons and sources – nothing had to be invented or camouflaged. If they are wrong, are the persons who told their story wrong? When it is real, it is wrong? Or the real of a make-up of fiction? Or leave it as natural disasters in the heartland of the real?
Here is no wrong/right for the agent: it is one side of the coin – thru the filter of areas of discomfort and disturbances. The agent acts as a medium releasing these fragments for evaluation and curation. Maybe to real to be art? Art should be beautiful?
Next de-fragmentation issues the other side of the coin - all work in progress for change.
-
Comment by Juma Hamdo on October 26, 2008 at 6:35pm -
i came into the conspiracy room ,it was dark ,fraught with faces & sounds .. i never feel that no body here .
i sitdown on timber seat quietly ,look attentively at photos ,sentences ,letters ... turned papers quickly , i get some words in my mind then go out ... before i left , i wrote : NO .. WRONG .
maybe there is not wrong , but mostly u hear ;it's wrong .. u say ;it's wrong ... & more mostly u hear :
U R WRONG !! WRONG !!
About
Organised by:
Funded & supported by:
Related projects
Reloading Images© 2009 Created by Reloading Images on Ning. Create a Ning Network!
You need to be a member of * RELOADING IMAGES to add comments!
Join this Ning Network