In Turkish tales the sultan type is a symbol of a certain authority and power. The whole order is in his hands. Yet this absolute power does not mean he is invincible. In the tales there are situations that even the mightiest sultan cannot overcome; he needs the wisdom and help of others.
This archetype lives on today. There are people who hold power and authority and can remain indifferent and selfish towards society’s problems. But they too may come face to face with an illness, a bankruptcy or a helplessness against which even material power falls short. Like the sultan in the tale, modern power is fragile.
The Sultan I have shaped carries this contradiction. Seated on his throne, he controls all affairs in comfort from where he sits. His glossy raku-glazed robes and stylised throne are the showy shell of nobility and authority. The slightly mocking, relaxed expression on his face and his careless cross-legged posture are the complacency of a power that believes itself immortal. The apples I have arranged around his throne tell of his greatest desire: his children and the eternity of his line, the dream of a reign that will last forever.
Passed down from generation to generation in Anatolia’s oral culture, folk tales are not merely fantastical stories; they carry a society’s fears, hopes, transformations and shared memory.
“The Memory of Tales” reinterprets characters such as Şahmaran, the Zümrüdüanka, Keloğlan, the giant, the giant’s mother, the sultan and the prince in the language of contemporary ceramic sculpture.
Shaped by hand, each figure goes beyond its appearance in the traditional tale and becomes an original work of art carrying its own symbolic meaning and story.