Meet Ci Demi, an Istanbul-born photographer whose evocative visual storytelling captures the essence of urban life with a bold and introspective touch. His shift from advertising, where he worked as a copywriter and creative director, to becoming a self-taught photographer highlights his strong dedication to exploring the layered dynamics of human experience through the lens. Demi’s deep connection with the vibrant streets of Istanbul serves as his perpetual muse.

*Frame* by Ci Demi. Courtesy of the artist.

His work, celebrated for its emotional depth and stark realism, has been featured in prestigious publications such as Foam Magazine and the British Journal of Photography, and displayed at significant cultural events like Les Rencontres d'Arles and Istanbul's Pera Museum. In 2022, his series "Unutursan Darılmam" earned the distinguished Discovery Award at the Encontros da Imagem photography festival. Beyond the galleries and printed pages, Demi has also made his mark with his debut photobook, "Şehir Fikri," inviting readers into his unique perspective of the city. As he continues to redefine photographic expression, Ci Demi remains an influential artist in contemporary photography, eagerly exploring new narratives and uncharted themes in his upcoming projects.

Photography often captures the visible while alluding to the unseen. Can you discuss how you balance these elements to create narratives that invite viewer interpretation?

There is an invisible monster lurking in my photographs, and its name is Istanbul. Occasionally, it reveals itself just enough—that fleeting moment is what I'm striving to capture.
Istanbulites often see my photos and go, "Wait, I know this place–this has happened to me too!" For outsiders, however, the reaction is more one of astonishment, as they ask, "Is this really how you live?"
There's this idea of Istanbul in people's (outsiders') minds, and I am kind of at war with it. Please don't get me wrong; I've never set out to change their minds. In fact, I couldn't possibly care less about what they think (of the city or my photographs). It's my reality, my rules.
Basically, it's all about how I feel. When you take photographs with a certain intent, those emotions translate into reactions in other people. I love it when they are offended, horrified, or simply confused.

In exploring the psychogeography of urban landscapes, especially Istanbul, what techniques do you employ to translate complex, layered environments into a single frame?

I follow the most basic advice: I get closer. Closer than anyone is comfortable with. I'm not a fan of interacting with strangers, but I still do it because... I don't know. I have absolutely no idea why I'm so insistent on taking photographs, no matter what happens.
Anyway, I've shot 90% of my stories with a 28mm fixed lens point-and-shoot. If a scene feels close, that's because I was there, one step away from it. When you do that, you can isolate the feeling, the geometry, the harmony, anything.

*Istanbul Stumble* by Ci Demi. Courtesy of the artist.

Considering the evolution of your photographic style, how do you integrate new influences or techniques while maintaining your unique visual identity?

My influences mostly come from the things I've read, watched, or listened to, but almost never from photography. I love looking at photo stories, and I do learn things when I browse them. I'm in a constant state of learning, but at the same time, it's very rare for me to come away with a new idea.
Real, raw ideas come while falling asleep to a horror film, listening to The Smiths for the billionth time, or reading a comic book known only by a handful of people, and so on.
I'm not a very visual person, actually. I think in text; I see words when I close my eyes. That's how my brain is wired. In a sense, my visual approach is protected from outside elements for the most part because it's all paragraphs to me.

Digital transformation has shifted many artistic practices. How do you see this evolution impacting your work, particularly in how you engage with and present to your audience?

I'm an internet native. I've been online since 1998 and I've seen everything. When Blogger, reddit, Tumblr, Instagram, whatever was born, I was there to see it. I've experienced all sorts of shifts in communication, design language, etc. that came with the rapid technological advancements. And having worked as a copywriter focused on digital marketing for a decade, I can yap about these things forever.
I love our times, I really do. Instagram enables me to connect with all sorts of people, and it has been working fantastically. That said, this also scares the hell out of me because I know how quickly it can go downhill. Artists should have a plan B. Collecting emails for a nice little newsletter is a good idea to keep those connections alive, as is having a proper website. Currently, there is no other platform for artists to make those connections on, which should alarm everyone.
I create stories and want people to keep them close to their hearts. Therefore, I'm making books. Well, so far, I've made one. When you think about it, it's pretty old-school and analog. To be completely honest, I don't see myself delving deep into digital adventures because when something is presented on a screen in an exhibition setting, for example, I instantly lose interest and can't engage with the idea. If I were to use a new tool, it would have to make sense in the story's universe. I wouldn't touch anything gimmicky or ephemeral. I want my work to last; I work hard for it.
Okay, let's talk about AI. Generative (visual) AI is a parasite that has been trained on people's work without any consent whatsoever. Its output is always hideous. If people want to look at the fever dreams of a machine, fine; I have never used it and will never use it. I look down on people who do. I'm not an elitist nor a hater; it's just that I can't tolerate... whatever this is.

Reflecting on your body of work, could you describe a project that was pivotal in shaping your current artistic direction and why it was transformative?

My first long-term story, "Will the World End in the Daytime" (2017-2019), is a fictional story about an imminent earthquake that scientists predict will take place in Istanbul. This project taught me how to photograph invisible things, and it forever changed me. Now, I can't step outside without seeing photographs everywhere. It has made me this quiet person, and in return, I have started taking quiet pictures filled with tension. I could do this forever; I don't care if it gets repetitive. It's what I want to do now, and quite possibly, what I will continue to do in the future.

*Will the World End in the Daytime* by Ci Demi. Courtesy of the artist.

Looking ahead, are there new frontiers or unexplored themes that you are eager to investigate in your upcoming projects? What directions might these take?

I ask myself this every time I reach a chokepoint: "What am I curious about?" This gives me direction and refreshes my drive to keep doing it. I see a future full of stories and this gives me immense joy. To answer your question: I don't know! I'm a sucker for a good story, and I'm sure I'll be chasing another one soon. Maybe it won't be about the city anymore. These days I'm drifting away to different narratives that require portraiture. I'll figure it out, eventually. Thank you for your engaging questions.

Meet Ci Demi

Brat Summer-y

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