Sarsha Demirci
Sarsha Demirci is an emerging, multi-disciplinary Kurdish artist residing in Naarm/Melbourne. She works primarily with etchings and is interested in subverting the idea of an edition through utilizing the multiple to create large scale installations. Her work is currently centred on her Kurdish heritage and is working through notions of “otherness” through her practice.
In 2019 she completed her Bachelor of Fine Arts at RMIT majoring in printmaking, and is now currently undertaking her Honours in Fine Art at RMIT.
Tell us about your creative process, what drives your practice?
My practice has changed trajectories quite a bit since my undergraduate degree. It has become a mode of understanding my Kurdish heritage, and the effects of assimilation and genocide intergenerationally. Wanting to educate others on these issues which are often unheard in mainstream media and to redress the absence of Kurdish representation within institutions is what is driving my practice at the moment.
Though my practice is going through this metamorphosis, the one constant I always come back to is the medium of printmaking. It is a strong driver of my creative process. I find the essence of printing very meditative, and I enjoy losing myself in its methodical, ritualistic nature. Additionally, the social aspect of the print studio environment is one I thrive in. What I enjoy about working alongside other printmakers is seeing how other people approach the same medium in different ways to you, that inspires me greatly.
What is the conceptual significance of repetitive patterns and abstract forms in your practice?
Repetition is something that is so innately ingrained in the process of printmaking. When I started using patterns in my work I found this to be a way of utilizing the repetitive nature of printmaking to create large scale installations. Using abstract forms and pattern in this way meant I wasn’t restrained by the diameters of the matrix. This was truly a game changer for me and is something I’m still experimenting with.
In my most recent work, I have been using the motif of the hand and fingerprints to convey a sense of shared human ancestry while also pertaining to the struggles of the Kurdish diaspora. The way the fingerprints grow on the copper plate through each state mean they start to muddy the marks placed before it, effectively erasing my own identity. This hints at the obscuring and rewriting of history, and the forced assimilation of Kurdish identity into the Turkish regime.
Matrix development, particularly for etching and lithography, involves complicated chemical processes, and this seems to be reflected in your imagery. Have you intentionally activated this relationship, or has it been incidental?
Yes definitely, I have always been attracted toward science which is why I have such an affinity for etching and lithography. These processes require very specific steps and attentiveness, but they can achieve quite seductive results.
I am very interested in human perception on a biological and psychological level, so I implore things like strong contrasting colour and pattern to evoke conscious awareness in the viewer. There is quite a lot of organic abstraction in my work, with some of my imagery being quite reminiscent of cellular biology. Through the use of this imagery my aim is to represent the internal workings of the body while conveying a sense of dynamic movement.
Are there any female printmakers | artists that influence you?
Where do I begin? Yhonnie Scarse, her recent show at ACCA ‘Missile Park’ was phenomenal. Jazmina Cininas, her mastery of reduction linocuts is truly other worldly. And Grace Evangeline Stewart, I am constantly in awe of (@gr.i.eve).
Finally, what exciting projects are you working on at the moment?
I am still working with the same copper plate I mentioned in the second question, though the next phase of the work will be the gradual polishing of the plate to remove the fingerprints and accidental marks. This process will, no doubt, damage the integrity of the plate, making it an uneven surface to produce a print from. I am exploring whether a ghost-like imprint of the original image will still show through, or if the plate can be taken back to its original, flawless form after the damage I have caused to it through the etching process. Though the latter seems unlikely, these questions refer to the effects of cultural wounding and how the ramifications of these wounds can never be completely healed over, always leaving scar tissue, a memory, a trace.