Missing Motif
Batuhan Aysan
Some carry a wish, others a loss. But some motifs are never woven; they remain incomplete. They get lost within invisibility. The gaps in this rug are the shape of the traces my childhood and youth left behind… For years, I witnessed the motifs of others, but I had no space to create my own pattern. I wove my own motif for the first time, but to do so, I first had to let go of the old. Of the patterns imposed on me, the ready-made motifs, the established narratives…
It all began, actually, when things were not whole. The motif took shape through the incompleteness.
In Anatolia, a rug is not merely an object; it is a carrier of memory woven with patience. Every knot traces a wish. A pattern invoking abundance, a motif warding off the evil eye, or an expectation of good fortune… But every motif, every loop, is not only aesthetic; it is also part of an obligation, of a sacrifice. Young women have woven meaning into the lives of others, compromising their own education and dreams. And often, they were never able to create their own motifs.
In this work, I intervened in the integrity of that traditional rug. I made cuts, painted, and pierced. Fragments of another rug seeped through those voids. Because sometimes life does not strike us directly. Yet, it leaves unnoticed voids within us. Like missing motifs.
I came to know this void by losing my father at an early age. During the years spent in boarding school, away from my family starting from the third grade, I never had a space of my own. Neither a picture hanging on my wall, nor a rug of my own choosing beneath my feet. I began weaving the first motif of my own on the threshold of adulthood. And every absence became a pattern. Every trace, the shape of a void.
Every motif belongs to someone.
This work is not merely a weaving; it is an effort to rebuild after a rupture.
To remind every viewer of their own missing motifs.
Some motifs are still waiting to be completed.
Perhaps, we will weave them together.
For sometimes, a motif is not a pattern; it is the return of a voice.
Sometimes a cut is a space opened at last.
The unwoven is sometimes what tells the most.
What is missing silently seeks its place.
And the rug is spread not only on the ground, but within us.
Batuhan AYSAN (he/they)
Social Impact Artist
Born in 2002 in Karaman, Turkey. Graduate from Darüşşafaka High School. Their artistic practice focuses on themes of social impact and empathy.
They center their work on upcycling, hands-on creation, and storytelling through objects. Their projects explore design-based thinking, visual storytelling, and sustainability.
They actively volunteer with numerous non-governmental organizations and play a key role in community-based creative processes.
Recently, they have been collaborating with municipalities and universities to organize sustainability-themed workshops and educational activities.