Larissa Araz

In 2005, the Kurdistan red fox was renamed from Vulpes vulpes kurdistanica to Vulpes vulpes, the roe deer Capreolus capreolus armenius to Capreolus capreolus and the taxonomic name of wild sheep was changed from Ovis armeniana to Ovis orientalis anatolicus. The Turkish authorities viewed such taxonomic names as perilous to national unity. These animals, though endangered, have long inhabited the wild stretches that cross the border into Armenia and Kurdistan.

The fox’s rechristening to a national nomenclature has not improved its chances of survival or reduced human conflict. This contemporary convention of renaming not only animals, but also cities, countries, and monuments is a historical revision catering to the reemergence of nationalism in Turkey and an ethos that blurs common sense.

Addressing the family of foxes that regularly visits the Hamburger Bahnhof garden, Larissa Araz envisages a long and diffused chalk mural. She depicts a haunting Anatolian and Mesopotamian landscape where the natural habitat is in danger. This is the land of the fox, who moves across large distances unhindered by political geography as a fugitive avoiding humans. Mirroring the moving multitudes of people who have been displaced by the drawing up of borders, Araz asks us to visit, through the perspective of foxes, a historic landscape of profound connectedness between humans and non-humans.  

Text: Sumesh Sharma