I am not walking the same way as you.
Installation, Manifesto
13×18CM, 36 Frames of Sentences Written with a Typewriter
2011
I am not walking the same way as you. is a conceptual installation comprising 36 wooden frames, each containing a typewritten sentence. Created for the group exhibition No More Luggage, which took place at Istanbul's Tophane-i Amire Cistern Galleries from October 13th to 28th, 2011, the work collects phrases overheard from strangers in various public spaces across the city. These fragments of dialogue, stripped of context and authorship, form a collective yet disjointed narrative, suspended between anonymity and revelation. The sentences are arranged in a grid-like formation, serving as artifacts of ephemeral urban exchanges—voices momentarily tethered to a static medium before dissipating into the city's ever-changing flux.
The rigid structure of the installation contrasts sharply with the fluidity of its source material. Typewritten text, with its mechanical uniformity, creates a tension between impersonal documentation and the intimacy of individual speech. This duality mirrors the paradox of urban life, where crowded spaces simultaneously foster both connection and isolation. By isolating phrases from their original contexts, the work fragments collective narratives into individual utterances, highlighting the dissonance and diversity of experiences within shared public spaces.
The deliberate title underscores this divergence, framing walking as a metaphor for the multiplicity of paths and perspectives that coexist within shared environments. The exhibition's theme of shedding "luggage" echoes the rejection of linear storytelling, prioritizing instead transient, unresolved moments of human expression.
The spatial proximity between the frames suggests accidental connections, paralleling the chance encounters that define urban life. Through its focus on impermanence and anonymity, the installation questions how cities shape communication, reducing complex human experiences to fleeting traces. It stands as a silent witness to the paradox of collective existence—voices amplified by proximity yet muted by the city's ceaseless motion.
