Association bylaws often begin with well-intentioned language: solidarity, representation, production, support. Over time, however, these terms remain in place while their functions shift. Support ceases to truly support, representation loses its inclusivity, and production no longer occupies the center. And that structural ambiguity [rarely voiced yet widely felt] eventually demands articulation.

Over the years, I have worked with, led, and observed various associations; sometimes from within, sometimes from outside. Each time, I found us standing at a similar threshold: between intention and function, representation and reality, production and status.

I had just left my previous sector, marketing, and closed the A.D.1644 Marketing Group [where I had served as founder and CEO] on the grounds that it was hindering my artistic practice. At that time, alongside strategic brand management, feasibility analysis, and positioning projects, I had been producing corporate (architectural, menu, hotel) photography. Gradually, these gave way and inspired conceptual content; with the publication of my first book came installations and sculptural impulses that enabled my first solo exhibition.

During the early period when I was actively trying to attend exhibition openings, I began researching art associations in Ankara, where I lived until 2022, motivated by the desire to meet other artists and expand my perspective. I contacted several, usually by phone, requesting information about their event formats and operational structures. Where I saw potential value, I submitted the required documents and entered their evaluation processes. I continued the same approach with associations in Istanbul, which I frequently visited for exhibitions and fairs. Some were satisfied with email submissions; others required wet signatures, printed portfolios, and similar formalities.

Their bylaws outlined membership criteria such as graduating from a university art department, earning one’s livelihood entirely from art, or being an award-winning or publicly recognized artist. Ultimately, I became a member of three associations in Turkey that appeared 'active': one focused on photography and two on visual arts in general. From the outset, I observed significant structural bottlenecks and operational dysfunctions in both membership and event management.

The Association of Photography Artists, though administratively competent when I joined, was burdened by a generational inertia that rendered it incapable of interpreting post–1950 art. Despite having the organizational capacity to host weekly professional events, its perspective was confined [not merely traditional but regressive] fixated on nature, portrait, and street photography, resistant to innovation or expanded vision. Within this rigidity, a handful of visionary instructors struggled to sustain contemporary art courses and workshops.

As a new member, being exposed to election politics and factional maneuvering during a leadership transition felt unnecessary. Nearly all the younger photographers I spoke with had previously endured unpleasant experiences in the same association [founded in the 1970s] and had left due to an aging leadership unable to update its vision. Individuals revered as 'masters', similar to figures frequently encountered in academia, offered critiques during 'Photo of the Month' sessions that rarely exceeded comments such as, “I can’t see the bird clearly; I don’t like it”, even when responding to experimental or impressionistic work. Members who had attended weekly for decades would declare, [even saying] “I don’t consider digital photography real photography; photography must be printed", inadvertently rationalizing the steady loss of younger members.


Their methods of photo reading/interpreting were among the most troubling experiences I encountered. Conceptual, experimental, impressionist, contemporary, classical, nature, street, and portrait approaches were interpreted through identical frameworks, with an obsessive search for universal meaning and a rigid belief in the enduring authority of symbolism. This approach resembled claiming that knowing the Cyrillic alphabet allows one to understand every language that uses it. In collectivist cultures, long–term membership often becomes equated with authority; accumulated years are mistaken for unquestionable expertise, and experience hardens into a form resistant to critique. Although my initial aim of meeting diverse artists was not fulfilled, I continued participating in the workshops of the visionary instructors until shortly before leaving Turkey in 2022.

Another well–known formation among artists was a less branded yet large Visual Arts Association. Here too, what might be described as [unpleasant] gerontocratic dominance had rendered the institution suffocatingly stagnant. Meetings were rare and typically devolved into empty promises from presidential candidates ahead of elections. Having served as president of 11 national, local, and international associations or clubs by the age of 32, I could distinguish rhetoric from feasibility. Elections alone do not guarantee democratic institutions; fulfillment of commitments, transparency, and accountability are equally essential.

My most memorable experience there concerned my membership application. At the time, the limited number of exhibitions I had participated in, combined with undergraduate degrees in business, philosophy, and sociology [none directly in art prior to completing my multidisciplinary MFA in the United States in 2024] generated ambiguity within the administration regarding my legitimacy. After submitting my documents and receiving no response, I contacted the president to inquire about the delay. She explained that, lacking formal art education, my membership was viewed unfavorably. I replied, “Art is not engineering; one does not become an artist by virtue of a diploma”. Completing a law degree does not automatically make one a practicing attorney; earning a psychology degree does not instantly confer clinical authority. The art world includes numerous widely recognized contemporary artists and professionals who are self–taught.

Later encountering this administrator’s pastel drawings of cats at an art fair clarified much. His practice was more classical than classical; competing perhaps with an antiquated camera rather than with contemporary discourse. I understood then why certain administrators insisted on equating contemporary conceptual practices with formal art degrees. I had entered a circle where even post–1900 Western art or installation practices could provoke the question, “Is this art?” Most members were either academics of 30 or 40 years’ tenure or landscape painters absorbed in their own production. Activities revolved largely around occasional Sunday brunches and large group exhibitions of fifty or more participants. I ended my membership in 2021. Communication had reduced itself to reminders about annual dues. My final message, delivered by phone, was: “Please inform the president that fulfilling at least one promised project [or organizing at least one annual event] is necessary”. Even the previous year’s fee felt like a sunk cost.


The Plastic Arts Association, a longstanding institution in Turkey with international accreditation, required a printed portfolio for admission; an uncommon but rigorous criterion. Beyond disappointments regarding event volume, my singular defining memory concerns the refusal to share news of my appearance on the YouTube program Infidel [Godless] Art, hosted by the Atheism Association, within their member communication channels. The administration deferred my inquiries for weeks, citing 'sensitive content' and 'online broadcast' concerns. I resigned in protest against what obviously was a discriminatory censorship. If critique were permissible only to the extent that it caused no discomfort, categories such as protest art or critical inquiry would never have emerged.

Regarding the broader systemic transformation: individuals who neither follow global art dynamics through social media/YouTube nor step beyond national borders, yet consider their practice the center of the universe, produce commentary grounded in provincial exhibition circuits while advocating for the 'universality' of meaning. This illusion not only impedes the education of younger generations but also erects substantial barriers to the development of the art market itself.

After relocating from Turkey, I joined the U.S. chapters of the IAA–International Association of Art [an official UNESCO partner] and the International Association of Art Critics (AICA), organizations whose accreditation processes I was already familiar with. As geographic scope expanded, so too did the volume of events, particularly online gatherings in the post–pandemic period. Membership diversity proved more fluid than in the Middle East or Europe; individuals relocated more frequently, making sustained local affiliation less stable. The scarcity of in-person events diminished institutional belonging or prevented it from forming at all. In Middle Eastern contexts, belonging often functions as a badge of status [serving personal ambition] whereas in Western contexts, networking and professional throughput are prioritized. Consequently, titles such as president or board member may carry micro–symbolic prestige in Turkey and similar cultures, while international federative structures operate with greater emphasis on individual autonomy. My experience drafting bylaws for several professional associations between 2016 and 2018 reflected similar distinctions: Western models foreground personal space and individual freedom, reshaping the meaning of affiliation.

When such institutions devolve into social microcosms rather than productive platforms, they resemble many flawed replicas elsewhere: organizations that collect fees yet generate little output. The original idea of collective thinking and production is replaced by the mere comfort of belonging, accompanied by inertia and dysfunction.

Although structural dysfunctions resemble one another across sectors, in fields such as philosophy and art [where critical inquiry is presumed to be central] the absence of progressive production, substantive exchange, and ambitious programming becomes especially conspicuous. Until these needs are addressed, members will continue to move between associations like ping–pong balls, expending time and energy before ultimately withdrawing in frustration.

February 2026, Los Angeles