To see the invisible man One of the fundamental problems in photography is that, to a very casual observer, all photographs appear to be similar: their meaning and reasons for existence are subject to the difficulty of visual clues. Thankfully, the format, the show, the album in which images are collected and manage to break through the frame or the gallery wall makes one's job easier; it lifts the burden of sleuthing after such clues. It is also a good idea to gather your evidence from the photographer's full body of work. If one looks at each photograph as a letter and the exhibition as a word, then the full archive should constitute a meaningful sentence. Ahmet Polat, regardless of his age and the short periods of time in which he composes his shows, is an amazingly accomplished photographer. Normally the work of an artist of his age would be messengers of things yet to come, hints to future accomplishments and signposts guiding one to an as-yet-unknown body of work. They could very well be images which would later be overlooked from a mature perspective as youthful indiscretions. But Ahmet Polat's works for some time have not needed such patronizing niceties. If anything, they are deserving of the respect of serious critique. One should overlook the matter of his age when confronted with these images, as this would be the greatest injustice. When viewing this exhibit, one should also be familiar with his earlier works, his brutal sincerity, his good-natured interest in the human condition and social dynamics. But most important of all, one should be aware of the obvious bond of trust that he creates between his subjects and his camera. At least in Turkey, images of VIP's are always subject to either a sort of truce or have mutually accepted rules of engagement. Perhaps for the first time, Ahmet Polat breaks this cease-fire and moves through parties, private soirees and special occasions as an invisible man. He approaches his subjects with the same sensibility and candor as he always does. He attempts neither to deify nor pity his subjects, nor to create an alternate reality. He simply shares with sincerity. He shares with us peaks and plateaus, moments that one might pretend not to be familiar with. While doing this, he skillfully avoids the pitfalls of sycophancy and keeps his distance: he seals himself off, not his subjects. His snapshot esthetic cuts through the carefully choreographed theatrical ambiance of these stages, while leaving behind enough clues to the true nature of the space. The raw, uncentered, localized flash and his off-the-hip framing create an uncanny sense of the familiar which pulls the viewer in, although the fact that there is no eye contact with the lens keeps us grounded in the reality of the environment and preserves the distance from the VIP section. The select people that we see in the photographs are the primary target audience of this show, but these frames are very possibly the first honest witnesses of these candid moments. This see-saw of values is not standard in such subject matter. This is one reason why I would be very interested in hearing the commentary of the viewers and the debate that is certain to ensue between various people of diverse economic backgrounds. A short time ago I had the opportunity to overhear an interview with Ahmet on the eve of his receiving the ICP, Infinity Award. The fundamental yet banal question he was asked was most likely along the lines of, "What is photography?" After a short pause he replied, "Photography is a very, very big thing for me." Yes, "Ars longa, vita brevis," and photography is truly a very big thing. We can also say that Ahmet Polat is already a very big photographer: even though he may not achieve the photographer's utopia, "to change the world," he manages to transform irreversibly those who meet him and his works. Orhan Cem Çetin Photographer, Lecturer Istanbul Bilgi University