2071,

depicts a self-portrait of Hasan from an era where Germany ruled by AfD (Alternative for Germany, a right-wing populist political party) under the name of United States of Conservative Germany or in short U.S.C.G (Vereinigte Staaten von Konservativen Deutschland oder V.S.K.D). Hasan's visits to the "anatomy department of the hospital Charié and revisiting Germany's brief colonial history related to this hospital in Berlin, were the reasons of his artistic clash within the contemporary German Post-Truth Politics.

2071

So here you are. Another visitor... You stare at us with your curious eyes and wonder why on earth we are not buried underground. You are probably wondering whose bones we are. Who is or was the poor dead person, whose organs, muscles, and veins have had to decompose under the hard light of scrutinizing gazes? You might think that corpses need the protection of dark earth. And if you are a Muslim, as this poor dead painter used to be once upon a time, you'll know that your bones need the bugs, the worms, and all the beautiful creatures of the night if they are to rest in peace.

So there is no peace for us. We are trapped in this fucking cold glass vitrine. Each gaze is torture. Particularly the gazes of those who torture us, the ones who voted for those that created a monster called Vereinigte Staaten vom konservativen Deutschland.

If you look up, you will see a hole in the forehead. A fractured os frontale... Out of all of us, the one who suffers most in this show is os frontale. She would do anything to be able to hide from your gazes, to hide that little dark hole on her surface.

A fatal stroke... That hole might seem little, but it was created by a deadly stroke. A small but fatal impact... which killed the painter.

Since you are here, looking at us, please let us at least tell the truth: We are not just any old pieces of the Charité's collection. We are not the remains of corpses of people without families, without lovers, without friends or without stories... There is a story behind us. There is story behind the broken os frontale. You need to hear that story.

The painter was killed by a German guy called Jan... You probably don't know Jan. But if you had have ever met him, you would have seen how he hated and feared people like this painter. But it wasn't just hate or fear that filled his eyes, but also desire and love for people like the painter. For people who migrated to this land from the lands of dark skinned hairy men, like this painter used to be once upon a time. Jan was a painter too. In one of his works he painted the painter in front of a concentration camp. He was nostalgic for the times of concentration camps. That must be why he celebrated the second Annexation of Austria in 2030. That must be why he couldn't stand seeing the success of the painter, who he hated publicly, and loved secretly. Love and hate. That must be why he bought that little hammer from Bauhaus in Neukölln. That must be why he followed the painter secretly one dark Thursday night. That must be why he called out to the painter, "Hey du Dreckstück!" as they passed through an empty street. That must be why he hammered the os frontale, which gave way immediately. A small piece of os frontale stuck into the delicate, soft, pink tissue of the brain. The painter fell down on the snowy street. The blood turned the snow into red cotton candy. Jan stayed for a couple of minutes next to the dead body of the painter, and then he went home, as if nothing had happened; as if it was just any old Thursday night.

Yener Bayramoğlu 2017