Istanbul, like most other cities, inherently offers visual pleasure to its inhabitants, sometimes even in a self-reflexive manner. Indeed, looking into the Turkish origins of the word șehir (‘city’ in English), it is striking that the word shares the same etymological root (shr) with teșhir (‘display and exhibit’ in English) and
șöhret (‘celebrity’ in English). The urbanites, and not solely the privileged flâneurs,
were there to look and to be looked at.82
Demetrius Coufopoulos, in his guide to Constantinople, considers the Turkish word for pleasure, keyif, invaluable for the depiction of Istanbul life, as to him it is the Turks’ favourite pastime.
Keyeff is somewhat akin to the dolce far niente (‘sweet idleness’) of the Italian. This ‘enjoyment’ is attainable by repairing to some picturesque spot, and sitting for hours in listless, thoughtless, vacant contemplation, over the soothing coffee and cigarette. This is keyif, downright, pure, unadulterated keyif, or whatever one likes to call it, for the word baffles all translation. All his [Turk’s] appreciation of the terpsichorean art
80 Quataert, The Ottoman Empire, p. 152.
81 Nancy Micklewright, ‘Late Nineteenth-Century Ottoman Wedding Costumes as Indicators of Social
Change’, Muqarnas, 6 (1989), p. 161-174
82 Flâneur in this regard is referring to middle class urban wanderer who has sufficient income to
is confined to viewing from his cushioned divan, through the fragrant medium of coffee and cigarettes.83
The quotation above provides an Orientalist view on the notion of keyif as it suggests attributions of a passive idleness to the pastime of a foreign culture. The quotation still remains significant with its stress on a visual pleasure, despite being merely contemplative. Nevertheless it is striking to note that the life of pleasure had a lot to do with the life of spectacle. As described by Edmondo de Amicis in 1877:
We have at our command horses standing saddled in every square, sailboats in every cove, steamboats at a hundred landing stages; the darting caique, the flying talika, and an army of guides speaking all the languages of Europe. Do you wish to hear an Italian comedy? To see the dancing dervishes? Or the antiques Karagöz in the Turkish puppet-show? Do you want to hear saucy songs from Parisian music halls? Or see gypsy acrobats? Or listen to a story teller telling an Arabian tale? Or would you prefer a Greek theater? To hear an imam preach or watch Sultan pass by? All you need to do is ask.84
Amicis seems to be oblivious, just as were many other writings on the city’s ‘historical’ everyday life, that such views unintentionally exclude the financial availability of these entertainments for the lower middle classes. Notwithstanding this lack of awareness, Amicis manages to demonstrate the wide range of entertainment possibilities that Istanbul offered.
One of the most enthusiastic spectacles for the Istanbul public of the 1850s was the hot-air balloons. In 1844 an Italian eccentric, Comaschi, flew in a large balloon over the city. The show attracted hundreds of people, yet his second attempt concluded sadly: he was lost and then found dead in the balloon. Another speculation related to balloons occurred in the Hamidian era: an unknown hot-air
83 Demetrius Coufopoulos, A Guide to Constantinople (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1899),
p. 23.
balloon was seen in the sky and the spies of Abdulhamid identified it as a bomb.85 Although it was then revealed that the balloon’s flight had no political affiliations, it was nevertheless a great spectacle for the Istanbulites.86
The arrival of the bicycle in 1890 sparked possibly even more enthusiasm for the urbanites’ gaze. The first bicycles were enjoyed by some of the bourgeois elite, yet the viewing of them was also pleasurable for all levels of society, especially for children. 87 Every time a bicycle came around, the children would fill the streets, yet within a decade, with the increase in the number of bicycles, public astonishment began to disappear. The first bicycle race in 1893 also drew a large crowd to the rink. Istanbul’s most significant asset is largely considered to be the narrow strip of sea located in the middle of the city, the Bosphorus. There were, and still are, different types of houses and apartments, built to face the sea. One major type of pleasure for the Istanbulites had long been the viewing of moonlight reflected on the water. Particularly in the nineteenth century, Istanbulites enjoyed such spectacles in very small boats on the Bosphorus. Sometimes it could be merely a couple, or sometimes a group of friends along with a small band of musicians and sometimes parties with belly dancers could be organized for a group of four or five small boats.88
Despite the fact that it might be obvious to a film studies reader, it is still noteworthy that the ‘gaze’ in Istanbul was not always as light-hearted as I describe it here. Displaying criminals in public arenas has long been a way for punishment in many parts of Europe and the Middle East. The public gaze could also function as a tool for disgracing the body and thereby to create public fear. ‘Display of the criminal in wax’ and the ‘display of the criminal on the donkey’ form two examples
85 Abdulhamid, with his fear of assassination, had a great number of spies around the country to watch
for suspicious acts.
86 Resad Ekrem Koçu , ‘Balon, in Istanbul Ansiklopkedisi, ed. Resad Ekrem Kocu (Istanbul: Istanbul
Ansiklopedisi Nesriyat ve Kolektif Sireketi, 1961), pp. 2064-2065.
87 Koçu , ‘Bisiklet’, Istanbul Ansiklopedisi, pp. 2821. 88 Koçu , ‘Gobek Dansi’, Istanbul Ansiklopedisi, pp. 7059.
from Ottoman lands of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The ‘worth-seeing’ displays are intended to tame the ‘fearful’ viewers and witnesses.89