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Not
a single promise made by the professor was kept. I was to work
only a half day in the studio and then be able to work for myself,
I was to have a number of exhibitions soon after my arrival,
etc. Professor Hausner thought only of himself. I needed to
send money regularly to my family as my father was ill with
prostate cancer. I received a letter from my brother, Murat,
requesting that I come home as soon as possible. I had no money
and went to my mentor for an advance on work that I would offer
for free on my return form Turkey. He refused the advance even
after I showed him the telegram from my brother and broke down
an cried in front of him. I offered to leave all my work with
him as a guarantee, he retorted that he hadn't the faintest
idea what he'd do with all my work on his hands. I was deeply
shocked and disappointed. I asked him to return my passport
(as a sort of legal guardian, he had it in safe keeping in his
office). He answered that my passport was not here, but when
I pointed to his desk drawer and he flushed a deep red, I knew
that he had it under lock and key in that very room. |
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get rid of me, he told me to go see his secretary at the
academy the next morning and there receive the 10,000 shilling
advance that she would be holding for me. When I went the next
morning, after spending most of the night packing my bags and
making last minute preparations, the secretary was totally baffled
at my request for money. She told me that she had not been instructed
by anyone to make an advance of such a sum and that the professor
took care of all his own money matters anyway. In a stupor,
I called his home immediately and asked for an explanation.
He spat out all he had in his heart, "How can I trust you,
a foreigner? You may never come back!". It was as if the
brotherhood of art made no difference to him. He felt that everything
was a question of money. That was now clear. I made a last offer.
The only valuables that I possessed were my cameras, which were
worth about twice the amount I wanted from him. I offered them
as a guarantee. He told me to get them, have them appraised
and then to bring them to his apartment. Late in the afternoon
I finally had the cash necessary to take the plane. At the airport,
the last flights for the day had left and I was forced to wait
until early the next morning. In the meantime, my wife found
me with a new telegram from Murat which said that my father's
condition had improved markedly and that he was reacting positively
to treatment. It was no longer necessary to come. So instead
of going to Turkey, I used the money to good ends, paying bills,
taking care of my family, working on my paintings. Ten
days later, I returned to the studio as if nothing had happened.
The professor didn't even ask about my father's condition. I
reclaimed my cameras and we tore up the I.O.U. |
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