The Museum of New Art
presents
a design for life
marker art from Amer kaj
Miri
January 15 - February
5
Turkish artist Amer kaj Miri is best
known for his colorful felt marker paintings and drawings, a modern riff
on Persian rug making, an art form that has been in the Islamic culture
for centuries.
A DESIGN FOR LIFE: An Interview with Amer kaj
Miri
By Agnes Doherty for Culture Club
Recently, I had the pleasure to sit and talk to Turkish
artist Amer kaj Miri. A meeting I've wanted to do ever since I laid eyes
on his vibrant paintings several years ago at the 10th Ä°stanbul Biennial. He is most
known for
his colorful felt marker paintings and drawings, a modern riff on Persian
rug making, an art form that has been in the Islamic culture for
centuries.
In anticipation of his upcoming 2011 exhibition at the
Museum of New Art (MONA), kaj Miri spoke about his early years, his
current challenges as a Muslem artist, and what we can expect from him
next.
Agnes Doherty: When did you begin your love affair with art?
Amer kaj Miri: I have always loved just being
creative. I've been drawing ever since I was a little kid back in Uygur. I
only started taking it seriously when I was going through a really rough
time in my life. At about 17 I was working at a FedEx store in Iszmir. I
got hooked on the colored felt markers there. I was caught sniffing, let
go from my job and so needed a therapeutic outlet: on the way out the
door, I pocketed dozens of the markers and just started painting with them
at home. Until my parents kicked me out as well
A friend I lodged with for a bit said to me why don't you
start selling these in galleries and I thought there is no way, who is
going to take me seriously? It happened that I ran into someone at my
mosque whose brother had a gallery in Ä°stanbul and I pretty much begged him to
get me a meeting. Hoping this dealer would just take a look at my work and
he did, and liked it. That was really my main break. Between that, I was
hustling on the streets and sniffing the markers to get high. That period
was my escape into life. I [UTF-8?]didn’t like that much. I prefer the
world of
art.
AD: What was the hardest thing you experienced
when you decided you wanted to make art as your
career?
AKM: That no one took me seriously. People would
ask me sometimes what do you do? No really, what do you do for work? Even
some of my johns while pulling up their trousers would say "come on,
you're not an artist! [UTF-8?]There’s no career in Turkey for that
here." But in
my head, it was really important in order for this thing to work, to take
it seriously. To truly believe in my mind that this was a career path, not
just a hobby. Being an immigrant native [UTF-8?]I’ve always been considered a [UTF-8?]dışarıdaki, an
outsider. And then one day my
work was chosen for the Ä°stanbul Biennial. Life
changed.
AD: When you started, did you know what you wanted your art
to
be?
AKM:
What pretty things could I make to compete with the horrors that go on
every single day? You have to start somewhere. I only had carpet patterns
in my head that I had copied day after day. You have to at some point just
let go and let things take its own course. And then I just wanted to be
loved. It was quite easy after that
realisation.
AD: How would you describe it
now?
AKM: It's mostly spontaneous juxtapositions and
there's no logic. Illustration and decoration function as the signs of
artistic failure. Terrible sins, temptations to be avoided at all costs.
[UTF-8?]I’m an admitted sinner and an addict without an escape
plan.
AD: What has inspired you so much about the Persian
rugs?
AKM: There is a factory still outside
[UTF-8?]Ä°zmir that produces fakes of original Persian designs, a very
modern
factory actually and heavily mechanized that creates what they
call "genuine cheaper substitutes." Since my family had come from a
region famous for its Khotan carpets, everyone assumed it was in our blood
as well.
My father's job at this factory
was to transfer bootleg designs onto graph paper. And I eventually became
his assistant at fourteen, although I was only allowed to pirate
smaller prayer rugs. When the factory modernized in the early 90s, all
these jobs were lost and replaced by computers and scanners.
AD: How does your father
who trained you respond to your work
now?
AKM: He
[UTF-8?]hasn’t seen it. [Laughs]. We [UTF-8?]don’t talk. But I think
he would be shocked.
I should track him down but I don't think he would have a clue. I was
fourteen when I begged my parents to get me some art lessons. Instead he
took me to work at the rug factory where [UTF-8?]he’d correct me
constantly and
there would be scribbled red marks all over my designs.
AD: What do you say to those that have
criticized your designs as not being
"traditional"?
AKM: It's not. I totally agree. It's more of
scribbles and if you want to call it Islamic or rug designs you can but it
doesn't adhere to any particular set style. Having a bad memory,
[UTF-8?]I’ve been
forced to make it my own.
AD: What has
been the proudest moment so far in your
career?
AKM: Besides my very first exhibition, being
recognised by national galleries and international museums, or to see
myself on TV or to have spoken at University since I had no formal
training.
AD: What's
next?
AKM: I never tried to be original. Everything comes
from somewhere and it's just a mish-mash. I think that there's only been
one idea for me and that was painting with my markers. I think
[UTF-8?]I’ll just
carry that on until it all dries
up.
Amer kaj Miri:
A DESIGN FOR LIVING
at
The Museum of New Art
(MONA)
January 15 - February
5
reception: Saturday, January
15
from 3-6pm
7
North Saginaw Street
Pontiac, Michigan
hours: thurs to
sat, 1p-6p
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