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Dystopian worlds do not emerge from a single tragedy; instead, they creep in slowly and discreetly, until they become the only reality we know. They are not set or singular, but rather shifting, evolving states that are integrated into the decisions we make, the systems we support, and the patterns we embrace. This instability emerges from the continuous deterioration of stability, which is frequently disguised as development, and lives in places where the familiar begins to fracture.

In this state, time becomes a labyrinth, with linear development collapsing into an overwhelming experience. Moments echo and shatter at the same time, repeating with slight changes that make us wonder if we're moving forward, backward, or standing still. The past exists, not as memory, but as presence, whereas the future is unclear, anticipated yet puzzling. The present becomes a realm of repetition and rupture, an endless negotiation of meaning in a world that defies coherence.

 

This confusion extends to the environments we live in. Environments change from abundant to scarce, from vital to erosion. The routines we follow in the pursuit of order frequently become survival rituals, as we use intimate and instinctive movements to negotiate the collapse. In this instability, dystopia blurs the line between chaos and control, exposing the fragility of the systems on which we rely and the futile efforts to impose long-term stability.

Resistance in such situations is not always obvious; it often shows up as small acts of creativity, compassion, or unity. These small yet powerful gestures question a state of surrender and generate the tiniest cracks through which new alternatives can occur. Even resistance is filled with uncertainty: should we fight against the systems that bind us, adapt to their demands, or seek meaning in its collapse? Each decision represents a human struggle between survival and resistance, between the will to endure and the desire to transform.

 

This is not simply a story of misery or victory. It exposes the flaws in our collective reality while simultaneously reflecting our perseverance, imagination, and ability to find meaning in the most unlikely places. It is not an end point, but rather a process in which collapse and revival coexist. It encourages us to appreciate the beauty in what remains, to make meaning where none is provided, and to consider: How can we live in a world crumbling, and what might arise from the shards left behind?

 

Burada 2025 becomes more than just an exhibition; it is a place to reflect on how scenarios of collapse affect the rhythms of our present, challenging us to confront the fragile balance of chaos and control, as well as the possibility of renewal within the ruins. Rather than offering a single perspective, the exhibition depicts dystopia as a dynamic state that unfolds through landscapes and quiet acts of resilience. It invites viewers to consider how these scenarios are not distant possibilities, but rather reflections of the dissonance and fragility that exist in the present.

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Curator: Nil Nuhoğlu