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Contents / In the wake of a Turkish filmmaker
Omer Kavur, one of Turkish cinema’s most original directors, died on 15 May, leaving behind a legacy of intellectual integrity and a clutch of unforgettable films.

I first saw him at a talk he gave at the Bogazici Cinema Club. He seemed to want to listen more than talk; to be more interested in the ideas of the young people gathered there to listen to him. Years later when I met him for an interview, there was again an awkward silence as the sweat poured down my back. I was unable to ask even half the questions I had prepared; it was as if we were in a scene from Night Journey (1987), one of the most moving films of my youth. With one difference: there it was two Aytac Armans who were in trouble.
As I got older, from time to time I dreamed of writing a filmscript for Omer Kavur, all of whose films I had gulped down like water. But on May 15th I lost him—we lost him—omer Kavur, who put his signature on some of the most original films of Turkish cinema.
 
 
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