Before the advent of photography the artists who painted murals relied on their own observations, the descriptions of others, or their own imagination alone when depicting cities or objects. In 18th century Turkey wall paintings were a fashionable form of decoration, not only on houses, but mosques and fountains, the most popular subjects being views of Istanbul and ships. Istanbul was not only capital of the empire but a city of unparalleled scenic beauty, and thus a favourite subject for provincial artists and their patrons, particularly in inland towns and cities where the sea and ships were fascinating novelties. But their exuberant imagination did not end here. We find paintings of a windmill amidst trees, rushing streams and even ancient ruins on mosque walls, and in more appropriate vein pictures of Mecca and Medina.

Since the artists had often seen neither these cities nor Istanbul, errors abound in these naive paintings by folk artists.
But their naivety and innocent enthusiasm is what makes these paintings so charming, and to discover them in quite unexpected places is a pleasure of which I have never tired. I first came across a landscape of this type quite unexpectedly in the small village mosque of the village of Emre near Kula in western Turkey. Since then I have travelled long distances in search of these paintings. Sometimes disappointment has been my reward, as when I went to photograph the mural paintings which decorated both the interior and exterior of Bahattin Ağa House in Milas, only to find that the house had collapsed along with its beautiful wall decoration. Some I managed to capture at the last moment, as at the Hacı Sami Tartan House in Karaman and a house in Birgi, both of which were in an advanced state of decay.

Yet the paintings were as vivid as when they were first executed. Thankfully, however, many fine examples have survived in houses in a good state of preservation, or that have been restored. Once such is Latif Ağa House in Tokat, which is now open to the public, Nizamoğlu House in Yozgat, and Çakırağa House in Birgi. Many other mural paintings of this type can also be found in mosques.
Little information can be gleaned about the artists themselves; their identities, their personalities, or way of life. We can only conjecture from clues in the paintings themselves and trends in art at the time. Mural paintings became fashionable during a period marked by increasing western influence on the Ottoman Empire in the political, economic and cultural spheres.

This influence can be traced back to the 17th century, and naturally had its repercussions on Ottoman art and architecture. The traditional art of miniature painting reveals particularly striking changes at this time, such as the introduction of perspective for the first time, and by the end of the 18th century miniature painting had virtually died out altogether, superseded by western style painting in oils on canvas.
Western influence had a similar impact on architecture, beginning in Istanbul, and then spreading to the provinces, where every new fashion in the capital was faithfully followed. So the concept of representational mural paintings, as opposed to the traditional abstract or floral painted wall decoration, was quickly taken up by provincial artist.

But what is particularly interesting is that this fashion became far more popular than in Istanbul itself. While few examples of 18th century mural paintings are to be found in Istanbul outside Topkapı Palace, many village and small town mosques elsewhere in the country are veritable art galleries. A style of decoration that sophisticated city dwellers would have considered inappropriate for a place of worship was perfectly acceptable to less rigid-minded provincial people.
In rare instances we find the artst'sc signatures on these paintings, such as that of Zileli Emin in mosques and houses around Amasya and Merzifon, and Ali Miralaygil in other buildings in the vicinity of Harput.

Although little but their names is known to us, the naivety and spontaneity of the paintings speak for themselves. One painting depicts a waterpipe and oil lamp standing on shelves, while a clock shows the time at which the artist completed his work in the house. These artists had not received any academic training, but were either traditional craftsmen whose skills were passed down from master to apprentice, or in some cases took up the trade merely by coincidence and personal inclination. This form of folk art strikes a chord in us today, conveying the sincerity and unaffected delight which the painters poured into their work.

* Ömer Kokal is a freelance writer