(b. in Nicosia, 1986) 
Lives and Works in Berlin, DE.

+49(0)176 305 421 99 / +49(0)304 052 15 47 / +90(0)533 862 33 97  // hassanaksaygin@gmail.com


B.F.A                 2005-2009        Painting, Marmara University Faculty of Fine Arts,Istanbul, Turkey 
Diplom (B.F.A/M.F.A)  2010-2015        Painting, Weißensee Kunsthochschule,Berlin, Germany
M.A                   2016-2018        Art in Context, Universität der Künste, Berlin


                      2009             Borders-Orbits 06, Siemens Sanat, Istanbul
                      2010             AH OH, Galerie NON, Istanbul
                      2011             Through The Looking Glass, Barbabette, Berlin 
                      2011             Responding To The New Moon, Tanja Wagner Gallery, Berlin
                      2012             Methodical Inquires #3, Hasan's Surprise, Polistar, Istanbul
                      2013             Bufferzone: Checkpoint, Apartment Project, DEPO, Istanbul
                      2015             Jhad, GSL Projekt, Berlin
                      2017             Bodylandscapingtime, nGbK, Berlin
                      2017             ğ – das weiche g. queere Formen migrieren, Schwules Museum*, Berlin
                      2017             Shadow Waiting for the Full Moon, OBROŃCÓW STALINGRADU, Sczcecin
                      2017             Reframing Worlds, nGbK, Berlin
                      2018             Conlang, Seen by #10, Museum für Fotografie, Berlin

                                         Untitled  / Oil on Wood / 40x30cm / 2017

                                           Untitled  / Oil on Wood / 40x30cm / 2017

                                  In Fokus: Zypern, Insel der Aphrodite  / Mural Painting / 2017


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 

                                          (My Portrait in) 2071  / Mural Painting / 2017
JHAD Loves a Prologue Too

That postmodern irony  embodied in superheroes has been mostly responded by an anarchist humor in German modern culture. To trace it back to cartoons, comics and political satire, the weekly Simplicissimus published between 1896 and 1967, with a hiatus from 1944-1954, is a highlight with contributions by Hermann Hesse, Gustav Meyrink, Fanny zu Reventlow, Frank Wedekind, Alfred Kubin, Otto Nückel, Robert Walser, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Heinrich Mann and Erich Kästner. The Simplicissimus caricatures mainly addressed Prussian military figures, and rigid German social and class distinctions. Comic books were not published in Nazi Germany because such literature was banned under the “Smut and Trash” decree. And the post World War II comic sphere is shaped by translations like Tintin, Asterix and Marvel characters even though there were figures, with critical attitudes towards superheros, like private detective Nick Knatterton in the 1950s or Werner in the 1980s. The Marvel database has a long listing of its Germans characters and some of the popular figures such as Max Eisenhardt, also known as Magneto, is an outcome of many atrocities of The World War II that transformed his youth.

The superhero character JHAD appearing in the context of Berlin is not a coincidental proposal and should be read with such a critical cultural background. JHAD shares the body of the artist Hasan. In his painterly work, Hasan has re-thought about the icons -religious superheros- and their interrelations within personalized narratives and through cross-cultural hues. Today's anti-Islamic turn, its constructed mythologies, the globalized 'Other' and the consequentially re-orientalized bodies of desire have formed his thinking space for a while. Though he resists to label his work as queer art or use 'queerness' as his sole symbolic capital, his work desires a new form of politicization in queer perspective and looks for different means to make such a new form possible.

Superheros are agents for shifting imbalances of power structures with a moral urgency. JHAD, on the other hand, carries a Foucauldian agency that looks for different tools to transform the self and redefine the limits of the physical body and its pleasures. His name may provoke and has many colloquial references too. He is a Berliner phantom; he has a fashionable glam taste, he loves to appear, disappear and re-appear in the dark corners of places where erratic bodies find comfort and pleasure. He wants to operate with that absurd humor Germans use to respond to superheros and to play for a shift of taste in that respect. He has his personal and phantomatic reasons in his desire to be more than visible only towards Germans. And he wants to be popular just like any other superheros secretly do.

As they share the same body, when JHAD is there Hasan isn't and when Hasan is there JHAD disappears. At the moment we can only imagine and speculate on how the particular body that hosts both Hasan and JHAD will be transformed in this process and how two embodied characters will affect each other, what kind of traces their future adventures will leave for each other. This is a brief textual introduction for the curious as among many things mentioned above JHAD loves a prologue too.

Övül Durmuşoğlu

                                          Jhad, 140 x 240cm, Oil and Acryl on Canvas, 2015

 The Empowering Costume, Polyester, Collaborated with SADAK, 2015

                                                                      The Empowering Book, 2015

 Coat of Arms of Nicosia / Mural Painting / 2013

These series of paintings come from some of the idioms found within Turkish Cypriot dialect. Their aim is to contradict the “elite” accent and dialect of the Turkish language, of the “Motherland” (Turkey) with its invective attitude. To my mind, these idioms rebel against Turkish dominance and occupation on the island of Cyprus. By reclaiming these words and keeping them core to the development of my practice, I turn them into artworks that simply reflect my own visual memories. 

 Idiom I / 50x40cm / 2011

 Idiom II  / 100x80cm / 2011  

                                              Idiom III / 250x170cm / 2011

Idiom IV  / 280x180cm / 2012

   Untitled / Mural Painting / 2011


                                                   Untitled / Mural Painting / 2011

                                                                                                                 Untitled / 120x90cm / Signboard / 2011
                                                                                                       Offering to the Son / Mural Painting / 2010
                                                                                                                Untitled / r=45cm / Signboard / 2009

                                                                                                   The Annunciation to Grandfather / 300x180com / 2009

                                                                                                                  Untitled / r=45cm / Signboard / 2009
                                                                                                                             The Father / 300x180com / 2009

                                                                                                                   The Grandmother (1974) / 300x180 / 2009