Tell us a bit about yourself - all the basics! Where you’re from, where you grew up, interests, hobbies, siblings, causes you’re passionate about, anything else that comes to mind…

I was born in a Kurdish village in Mardin, Turkey, just a few kilometres away from the Syrian border. I believe that borders have somehow shaped my life story because I grew up looking at a border that I couldn't cross. My mother and siblings lived on the other side of the border, and we could only visit them twice a year at the border, where there were a hundred yards of minefields between us, and we could only wave at each other. Despite growing up in a small village and not leaving until I was a teenager, I knew that the world was much bigger than this and that we shouldn't be restricted by anything, especially borders. Currently, I live and work in London.

How did you become interested in film?

I began my journey with words and sounds before any images. Writing, reading, and listening to voices and sounds always fascinated me, and it still does. It was in my first year at university, at the age of 17, that I first watched a film in a cinema. After that, I became crazy about cinema, watching films non-stop at the Cinematheque or on DVDs. By the time I was 23, I was travelling to film festivals around the world as a film journalist. It's hard to explain how it all happened, but I have always pursued everything in life with a passion. When I turned 26, I shot my first short film, which had no dialogue, and received well in national and international film festivals. This was the beginning of my journey as a filmmaker, and I gradually left my journalist job to pursue this passion.

How did you arrive at the subject of your Close Up project?

In 2012, I made a documentary film called "I Flew You Stayed," which premiered at the Istanbul Film Festival. In the film, I endeavored to find my father's grave in a refugee camp in Iraqi Kurdistan. However, while searching for my deceased father, I unexpectedly came across my estranged mother, with whom I had little contact. The film culminates in a confrontation with my mother, marking the end of the movie, but the beginning of a new story that I needed to unravel. When I was two years old, my mother fled Syria with my one-year-old brother, leaving behind many unknowns in the story, including the role my maternal grandmother played. The only photograph we have together is of me, my mother, her mother, and my brother. For years, I was haunted by the unknown details, especially after becoming a mother myself. I felt the need to comprehend my grandmother's story and the reasoning behind my mother's decision, as well as reconcile with her. So, I developed a story that follows two parallel journeys: one in the past and the other in the present, from London to Mardin, my village.

If you weren’t a filmmaker, what might you be? What did you want to do or be growing up?

A writer. There's something about words in any language and form that has a calming and healing effect.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

I'm making this film to reach out to my younger self and let her know that everything's going to be all right. She's doing great, and she should continue to play, explore and dream, because life is beautiful.

Other than documentaries of course, what’s your favorite film genre and why?

I have always been drawn to art-house films that allow the audience to reflect and stay immersed in the story. When I attend film festivals, I search for family stories, political films from underrepresented regions, and those directed by women. Recently, I watched and liked Carla Simon's films and found them to be relatable to the themes I am trying to explore.

What has influenced your work as a filmmaker the most? A person, an educator, another filmmaker, a film itself, an experience, etc.?

My filmmaking has been influenced by all the movies I have watched, and continue to watch. If I had to mention one person who had the greatest impact on me, it would be my paternal grandmother. I was raised by her and she was a storyteller, a midwife, and an artist. She was my miracle who believed in me and made me believe in myself that I can be anything I want to be.

If you could have coffee with any filmmaker, living or dead, who would it be and why?

If I had the chance, I would love to have a coffee with Yılmaz Güney. He, like all of us, has flaws as a person, but I admire his filmmaking character, creativity, and storytelling. I particularly appreciate the Kurdish part of him that he never abandoned and had to hide to become a successful filmmaker in Turkey. Despite the dangerous times for Kurds and leftist people in Turkey during the 1980s, he managed to make his most political films. That's something that deserves pure respect and admiration.

What accomplishment thus far are you most proud of?

Not giving up probably. While working on this film, I felt like giving up many times, especially during the moments when I had to confront my mother and deal with her feelings of guilt and her tendency to project them onto me.

Anything you'd like to add?

I would like to express my appreciation to the Close Up team. We have been developing this project for over two years now and all we needed was a professional, yet warm, embracing, and accepting crew. I am looking forward to the next phase with Close Up. Making this film is now less painful with their support. ☺