A Reflection on Burhan Uygur’s Exhibition at Casa Botter

On April 16, 2025, after school, I visited the exhibition of Turkish artist Burhan Uygur at Casa Botter—a recently restored art space located on İstiklal Avenue—with a friend. The exhibition revolved around themes of memory, absence, and the transformation of space over time. In his layered paintings, Uygur explores the relationship between everyday objects and urban environments through the use of color and texture. In this paper, I will reflect on the overall theme of the exhibition and focus on a particular painting that struck me with its emotional depth and visual complexity. The general atmosphere of the exhibition was quite quiet; however, Burhan Uygur’s paintings carried intense emotion and poetic qualities within this silence. I was particularly moved by the titles he gave to his works. Titles such as “Bir Tarla Kuşu Gördüm Kuşluk Vakti Küçük Kuşun Gözyaşı Vardı Mağrur Gözlerinde” (“I Saw a Skylark at Dawn. The Small Bird Had Tears in Its Proud Eyes”) or “Yaşam Namuslu Bir Sessizliğin Rüşvetsiz Bir Zamana Boşuna Hürmeti mi?” (“Is Life the Unjustified Respect to an Honest Silence in a Time Without Bribes?”) left an emotional impression even before stepping into the meaning of the painting Additionally, the short-handwritten sentences on some of his works felt very intimate. Similarly, it was possible to see personal items of Uygur, such as the paints and brushes he used for his drawings, in the exhibition, which allowed me to establish a sense of closeness with the artist. Uygur’s choice to go beyond traditional canvases and use blank pages from books he had read and porcelain plates as painting surfaces demonstrated both his boundaryless approach and the unique connection he established between material and emotion. In his paintings, rather than distinct figures, there were abstract, ambiguous, and layered narratives, offering each viewer a space to contribute their own experience and interpretation. 

The painting that caught my attention the most during the exhibition—and the one I chose to focus on—was Bedbaht Karga (The Miserable Crow). This work interested me not only visually but also because of the connection it had with the artist’s other pieces. In another artwork by Uygur, painted on a porcelain dinner plate, the phrase Bedbaht Karganın Ölümü “The Death of the Miserable Crow” was written. This detail made Bedbaht Karga (The Miserable Crow) feel like the beginning of a larger narrative. By using different materials to extend this abstract storyline, the artist added a deeper meaning to the work and invited the viewer to reflect on the inner world—or the fate—of this crow. In terms of its content, Burhan Uygur’s painting Bedbaht Karga (The Miserable Crow) creates a sad and gloomy feeling at first glance. When we look at the painting, the crow figure appears both lonely and disconnected from its surroundings. The use of dark and grey tones makes this feeling of sadness even stronger. The background is unclear, blurry, and vague. It gives the impression that the crow is not in a real place but rather in a memory or a dream. The crow’s still and expressionless posture reminds us of the feelings of loneliness and meaninglessness that people sometimes experience. Uygur seems to be portraying not just a bird, but also the fragility and confusion within a person’s inner world. The word “bedbaht” (which means unfortunate or miserable) in the title also adds to the emotional weight of the painting. Overall, the artwork explores themes like loneliness, emotional collapse, and inner emptiness in a simple but powerful way. Uygur doesn’t express these ideas directly, but instead uses symbols and a sense of ambiguity. This allows the viewer to think and find their own meaning in the piece. 

As a result, the exhibition of Burhan Uygur, born in 1940, was not just a visual experience for me, but also an emotional and intellectual journey. Even though there is a 62-year gap between Burhan Uygur and me, his works emotionally captured me, and I found myself imagining his youth at many points. Generally, I prefer and value the use of symbolic language over direct narration in literature and cinema. From this perspective, I feel that I found a common language with Burhan Uygur. Especially the painting Bedbaht Karga (The Miserable Crow) remained in my mind even after leaving the exhibition, not only because of its gloomy atmosphere but also because of the silent and powerful connection it established with his other works. Thanks to Burhan Uygur’s works, I felt like I wasn’t just an observer but a part of this personal and timeless narrative. His art transformed into an experience that was not only to be looked at but to be felt, questioned, and remembered. 

References

Artam Sanat. (n.d.). Burhan Uygur (1940-1992). Artam Sanat. Retrieved from https://artam.com/sanatcilar/burhan-uygur-1940-1992 

Lebriz. (n.d.). LSD: Reflection of the Artist. Lebriz. Retrieved from http://lebriz.com/pages/lsd.aspx?lang=TR&sectionID=1&articleID=9&bhcp=1 

Ankara Antikacılık. (n.d.). Burhan Uygur (1940-1992), Untitled, Oil on Paper, Signed, Dated 1974. Retrieved from https://www.ankaraantikacilik.com/urun/3094633/burhan-uygur-1940-1992-isimsiz-kagit-uzeri-yagliboya-imzali-1974-tarihi-34 

Kültür-Sanat İstanbul. (2025, April 16). Solo Botter: Burhan Uygur Exhibition Opened at Casa Botter. Kültür-Sanat İstanbul. Retrieved from https://kultursanat.istanbul/haberler/solo-botter-burhan-uygur-sergisi-casabotterde-ziyarete-acildi