Children In The Basement

      I love projects at the end of the semester. Not. My professor of my culture class wants us to "study something interesting from a culture that we're not familiar with". My friend Eva told me about Turkish mannequins. She loves studying other cultures in her free time but she's not acquainted with Japanese customs. Eva told me she wants to do her project on Anime and Manga. Whatever they are.
      Anyways, later that day, I spend my time Googling things like "Turkish Culture", "Mannequins" and "Turkey". I come across a hit from a list under my last search "Turkish Mannequins" and a really interesting name came up. Apparently someone named Master Bedii was a Turkish mannequin maker. The pictures related to his mannequins were stunning! I do one last google search before getting ready for bed. I type in "Master Bedii" into the search bar, press enter and look at the hits. Finding one that's about his son, also named Bedii, catches my attention so I click on the link. It leads me to a wikipedia page and I find out that he retired to America after being in Turkey for so long.
      So he's in the U.S., but where? Reading a little further, I see that he lives in Brooklyn, New York. The school is just outside the city of Brooklyn! Maybe I can test my luck if I can get a hold of him.
      The next day, I ask Eva for her help in finding a way to contact Mr. Bedii. Seeing as she's already a pro with researching other cultures in her free time, she finds me his email address faster than I can say the word "Marshmallow". I compose an email to him:

                 Mr. Bedii,
                       My name is Maggie Green. I'm a student of a university just outside Brooklyn.
            I'm in a Cultural Studies class and I'm doing a project about your father's mannequins.
                       I was wondering if I would be able to interview you in person to collect
            information about them. It's completely okay if you say no.
                       I hope I didn't disturb you.
                                                                                                    Thank you for your time,
                                                                                                           Maggie Green

                                                                   •    •    •

      A couple of days go by without any word back from Mr. Bedii. So I just continued doing my own research about Master Bedii's work while I wait. A couple hours after I get out of work on a beautiful friday evening, I hear my phone buzz on the table next to me. It's an email! I open the email on my Droid and see that it's a reply from Master Bedii's son:

                 Dear Maggie,
                       I am glad to hear from someone that is interested in learning about my father's
                 mannequins and I would be glad to be interviewed about them.
                       I am free this Saturday from 2pm to 5pm. I will be expecting you.
                                                                                      Enjoy the rest of your evening,
                                                                                                             Mr. Bedii

      This is great! I make a note of the address he provided with his email and then text my coworker Billy to see if she can switch shifts with me. Thankfully I work things out with her and my whole day tomorrow is freed up. I shoot an email to my boss telling him that Billy and I switched shifts so I can take time off from work to do a project for school. After that, I go to bed around midnight and sleep like a rock.
      I slept so well that I wake up a lot earlier than I wanted to but at least I feel refreshed. Saturday morning goes by quickly and I'm ready and out the door by quarter past one. It takes about 35 minutes to get to Mr. Bedii's house; the traffic wasn't as bad as I'd anticipated.
      Mr. Bedii answers the door not long after I use the knocker. He greets me happily and says "I'm very glad to know someone is interested in seeing my father's work". I gave him a polite smile and explained "We can both thank my friend Eva, she was the one who told me about them when the project was assigned." He laughs and says "Well Maggie, you came to the right place. Come in, the mannequins are kept in the back of my basement."
      I follow him inside, eager to see the life-like dolls that I saw on Google a couple nights ago. Mr. Bedii leads me to the basement and starts to talk.
      "When I was living in Turkey with my father, Master Bedii, he wanted to teach me how to make children of my own. The mannequins you would see around Turkey are not like what you see in America. Turkish mannequins look like real people at first glance instead of plastic dolls."
      Mr. Bedii opens the door to his basement and starts down the stairs and I follow after him. He switches on the light and the mannequins seem surreal. The older man turned to me and asked "Isn't it astounding? My father's children look so much like real people that a Sheikh thought they were made to compete with the children of Allah." I was surprised by what he said only because I never really learned about another culture other than Spanish. I'll have to ask Eva what a Sheikh and Allah are later.

via museummannequins.com

      "Excuse me, I mean no offense but why do you keep calling the mannequins your fathers children?" I ask him.
      "No offense taken" he said kindly. Mr. Bedii looked towards the mannequins. I take my phone out to use the camera and snap a couple photos of the mannequin that seems like a chef. "I call them my father's children because they really are his children. Every one of these mannequins has a little piece of my father's soul in them." He took a seat at the table in the other corner of the basement. I continued to take pictures of the other mannequins around the room.
      I'm so floored by how realistic they look that it makes me start to wonder why he hasn't donated them to a local museum.
      I sit down in the other seat across from the son of the mannequin artist. He gives me a look of curiosity like he's waiting for me to say something. I say "I'm kind of at a loss for words, sir. I never knew something like these mannequins ever existed."
      Mr. Bedii looked down at his hands with a humble smile. "You never know what you may come across in life" he replies. I gave him a look of sincerity to let him know I agree with him.
      "Thank you so much for letting me see them. The mannequins are simply amazing." I get up from my chair after thanking him and he leads me back upstairs to the front door. Before I leave, he says "The pleasure is all mine, Maggie. When you first contacted me about them, I was more than happy to show you my father's work. A little company from an unexpected guest is always nice for an old man like me."
      I asked Mr. Bedii if he ever thought about giving them to a museum. He said he'd thought about it but doesn't want to make that decision right now. I shake his hand one last time and thanked him again for his time. I'm so glad I got to witness something like Master Bedii's children.
      I can't imagine how many other things are waiting to be discovered.

Manhattan Mannequins

It was a cold, rainy spring day in Manhattan where Angela Moretti woke up to her 5:45 am alarm buzzing next to her ear. She quickly shut off the alarm and sat up looking through her window out onto the busy street that lay hundreds of feet below her. She checked her phone and groaned when she saw all the messages she received from her boss. As she was flipping through all her text messages, the date on her phone caught her eye. It dawned on her that a year ago today she had graduated from college. Angela flashed back to that day and remembered how excited she was. She was so proud of graduating near top of her class from FIT with a highly coveted internship lined up at a top fashion magazine. Angela’s phone buzzed and she quickly snapped out of her trance. Her boss texted her again for the third time, this one was her breakfast order. Angela thought back to her graduation day and thought about how naïve she was about her future. Everything was so glamorous to her then. Now, she looked around her shabby 350 square foot studio apartment, her life was anything but. The internship that Angela couldn’t wait to begin had now become the thing she dreaded most. She had hoped that they would have offered her a job by now but she still remained their gofer. Instead of working with clothing she was fetching coffee at the crack of dawn. She finally dragged herself out of bed and started her daily grind.

            After Angela brought her boss coffee, she received her list of things that needed to be fetched for the day. Her boss, Anna, practically threw the list at her without even looking in her general direction. Anna then returned to the models she was working with and weeded through outfits. Before Angela embarked on her scavenger hunt across the city, she paused to look at the models. They were all so tall, thin, with flawless complexions and facial features. They didn’t even look real to her. Angela caught herself wishing that she were more like them. The way that the clothes hung on them so perfectly made Angela rage with envy. She was a size eight, on a good day, and the clothes that Angela dreamed about owning are ones that she couldn’t even fit into. She began to wonder if the reason she hadn’t received a job yet was because she didn’t have the double zero waist. “Angela?” Anna snapped her fingers in front of Angela’s face. “Hello?” Anna insultingly questioned. “Yes?” Angela replied, trying to mask her rage. “I need you to get moving on that list. Everything has to be here by noon for the photo shoot. No exceptions.” Anna said curtly. Angela nodded and quickly moved out the door.

            After moving from borough to borough, Angela was exhausted, but she just had one shop left on her list with an hour to spare. Angela always loved going to this last shop because the shop owner was always kind to her. She was an older Italian lady named Magdalena. Magdalena reminded Angela of her grandmother who like Magdalena, grew up in Italy. Angela had been very close with her grandmother before she died a few years ago so visiting with Magdalena was somewhat bittersweet. As soon as Angela set one foot into the shop she heard “Angie! I was wondering when I was going to see you again.” Magdalena said smiling from ear to ear. She was standing behind a counter that was almost as tall as she was Angela almost didn’t see her. “Hi Magda. It’s been too long. I saw your new collection in the window and it looks beautiful.” She said as she bent over to give Magdalena a hug. Magdalena laughed while she sets a bag onto the counter, “Well I’m glad you like it. I have your order all ready to go because I’m sure you’re in a hurry.” Angela rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, actually, this is my last stop and I have about an hour to kill. I’ve been doing this job long enough that I could do it in my sleep.” Magdalena gives a sympathetic look, “Oh honey, that boss of yours is running you ragged. You are too smart and talented to be doing this for her.” It’s times like these that Angela felt like she was talking to her grandmother. It broke her heart a little that she wasn’t able to. Her grandmother always knew how make her feel better and point her in the right direction when she was lost. Angela forced a smile, “Thanks.” Magdalena moved out from behind the counter, “Come downstairs with me, I have to get something I made for you.”

Angela followed the little woman through the hallway and down the steps of some rickety old stairs. “Magda you didn’t have to make something for me” Angela said feeling guilty and undeservingly. Magdalena’s clothing was beautiful and had been featured on some of the most well-known models. Magdalena scrambled around in the basement of her shop looking for Angela’s gift. When she found it, Angela couldn’t believe it was for her. It was the most beautiful green scarf that she had ever seen. “Magda this is too beautiful. I can’t take this.” “Oh stop. You will take it. The color matches your eyes. It will look perfect on you.”  Magdalena said smiling. Angela felt like wearing the scarf would disgrace Magdalena’s work. “Magda, something this beautiful should be worn on someone equally as beautiful.” Angie said sadly thinking about the models she had seen earlier in the day. “Well, then I gave it to the right person” Magdalena replied. “Magdalena?” One of the workers asked at the top of the stairs. “Will you excuse me, hon?” Magdalena said as started walking up the stairs. Angela was left in the basement alone with the perfect green scarf around her neck. She wandered around the basement and found a door cracked open. She opened up the door and slid her hand up against the wall to find a light switch. When the room became flooded with light, she saw life like mannequins staring back at her. “Oh my God” Angela said clutching her chest. The mannequins looked so real. There were at least ten of them crammed into this little storage room. She went up to them and inspected them one by one. They weren’t like the mannequins you would normally see in department stores. These ones actually looked like real people that you would see walking on the street. They looked…normal. Some were black, some were white, and some were even on the larger size. Angela thought about the ones that are typically in department stores, they were usually all white, thin, and with perfect facial features. Just like models. Angela continued to inspect the mannequins and looked at one’s hand. It was carved with “Master…” she couldn’t make out the rest. “Oh, there you are. I’m sorry. I had to help a customer.” Magdalena said sounding out of breath. “Magda” Angela said, “Where did you get these?” Magdalena couldn’t help but laugh, “These were left here, honey. I didn’t know what to do with them but didn’t have the heart to throw them away. They are beautiful though, aren’t they?” Magdalena asked while admiring the mannequins. “How come you don’t use them for your shop?” Angela pressed. “Oh, you know how people are. They want to see clothes on something that most people look nothing like. That’s the only way to sell things in this country.” That struck a chord with Angela. How could she have been so stupid, she thought. Here she was admiring how beautiful and different these mannequins were yet hours ago she was wishing she looked like a model from the magazine. Angela smiled and shook her head, “Magda, I have to get going. Thank you so much for this scarf. It is beautiful and I love it.” Angela took her time heading back to the magazine. Processing everything that she had just come to realize.

            Back at the magazine, Angela was greeted by Anna’s scowling face. “I made myself clear that this shoot started at noon and I needed everything by then. You are fifteen minutes late. This is unacceptable. And where did you get that scarf? I hope that isn’t one of the items for the models that you are wearing.” Angela smiled, “No this was a gift from a friend.” She proceeded to hand over all of the bags to Anna. “I know one of Magdalena’s scarves when I see one. Hand it over. It should be worn by one of the models not by some intern.” Anna snapped. Angela kept her calm, “Like I said, this was a gift from a friend. I’m not giving you my scarf but I will give you this instead”. Angela took off the magazine photo I.D. that was hanging around her neck and handed it to Anna. Anna looked at Angela like she was crazy, “Do you realize what you are doing? You are giving up an opportunity that most women would kill for.” “What I am giving up is working for a place and in an industry that brainwashing us into believing that, that” as she points to a model “that is what we are supposed to look like. That is what we should strive to be. That is what is perfect and beautiful, people who look like gaunt skeletons with no expression on their faces. They probably haven’t even eaten in days.” She pauses for a second. “So yes, to answer your question, I realize exactly what I am doing now. I realize that, that isn’t what beautiful is. I don’t want to look like that and I especially don’t want to work for a place that tells other people to strive to look like that.” Angela backs away from Anna and heads for the door. She walked outside onto the busy New York City street with the green scarf around her neck, feeling like she can breathe for the first time in a year.

The Interesting Experience of Anthony and Ross

Anthony and Ross have been best friends all throughout their school careers, grammar school, high school, college, you name it and they were there together. Anthony was the star and head captain of his high school’s lacrosse team, while Ross was the high tough wrestler. They both always had a smile on their faces and their classmates and teachers adored them both. Once the time came around for high school graduation and applying for college both Anthony and Ross decided to apply to a very elite University in Brooklyn New York where they both wanted to study and purse engineering. This is where Anthony and Ross discover something they have never been exposed to before.

            College started September 6^th for both the grown college men, both studying engineering while still maintaining their sports titles of captain of the lacrosse team and all-star wrestler. As college went on Anthony and Ross only had one class together and that class was American Culture. They did not mind it at all; they actually found it pretty interesting. They had a project that they had to complete by the second to last week of the semester in which they had to go to an old dusty basement in an old apartment building where a man by the man of Scott Jones once lived who adored mannequins that Master Bedii used to create. When Anthony and Ross found out what they had to do they were a little terrified that they had to go to some random old basement in order to write a paper for their American Culture class, but they sucked it up and did it anyways.

            On October 25^th right around Halloween, Anthony and Ross both decided to go to the old basement and get this project started. They brought along with them a camera, note pad, pen and wore old clothes in case they got dirty. Anthony and Ross got lost on the way to the old apartment because it was so run down and sat further back from the street so it was hard to notice. Finally, Ross pulled over in front of the old apartment it was around 7:30pm. When they walked up to the front door, they unlocked the old beat up wooden door with the key their professor provided them with and stood at the door step for a few seconds starring at the stairs leading to the dark quiet basement. Anthony whispered to Ross “You go first,” Ross replied, “Uhhhh bahhh uhhhh okayyyy,” with a long straight face as if he just saw a ghost. Ross crept down the stairs slowly and once he got to the bottom he flicked on the light which flickered a few times before actually staying on, and took a peek around. Ross shouted to Anthony who was shaking scared in his boots at the tops of the stairs that the basement was not bad at all, and that he can come on down. Anthony walked slowly down the steps and was shocked at what he saw, if not 100 then at least 200 tall mannequins that looked exactly like real people. Ross was in the corner amazed. Anthony said to Ross, “Dude, let’s get out of here, this is way too creepy!” Ross replied, “Relax man we need this for class and this really is not too bad. Let’s just examine these mannequins, figure out why they’re here then we will leave.” Anthony replied, “Okay, but hurry this is weird!” They both started to look around at each mannequin and all of them had such different features to them. Some represented culture and heritage while others were dressed in modern business attire and others as Turkish people. There were two mannequins in particular that Anthony was examining, it was of two Indians, a father who was tall with a very straight and serious look on his face and his son holding his hand looking up at his father as if something was not right. They both wore a feathered skirt around there waist, topless and each had a headband around their head with feathers pointing up from the back. Anthony thought these mannequins looked somewhat lost as if they were hunting for food and could not find any. He wondered why the artist would make such mannequins such as the Indian father and son. “How do you think these got here?” Ross asked. “I don’t know but this one is kind of cute” Anthony said with a joking chuckle. Ross found a little note on the ground that read “These were once Master Bedii’s Mannequins; I can no longer care for them, keep them safe down here and please don’t rough handle them.” “Who is Master Bedii?” Ross said. Anthony pulled out his iPhone and tried googling Master Bedii but no service was available. Both Anthony and Ross decided they would take a few pictures of some of the mannequins and type up a brief report on what they saw as well as add in the note they found and try to see if any of their classmates have heard of Master Bedii. They knew they would get an A+ with all the helpful information they acquired.

            As they drove away Anthony said, “Hey I guess that was not too bad, kind of interesting actually.” Ross replied, “Yeah, you’re right even though you were scared.” They both laughed then headed to a coffee shop so they could organize their final findings for their project. Anthony said, “I wonder if mannequins were ever an “American Culture” is that why our professor sent us?” Ross replied, “Good question, we can bring that up in our findings as well.”

            The due date finally arrived, right before the end of the semester; December 4^th finally was here for Anthony and Ross. They were relieved to finally be handing in this project. As they presented, their classmates were amazed with the mannequins in the photos and learned so much about this apartment basement and Master Bedii himself. The boys ended up receiving an A+ just like they hoped and there professor even let them keep the keys to the apartment basement where the mannequins stand alone in case they ever want to go back down into the basement and explore the mannequins more. The boys laughed, handed the keys back and said, “We will pass but thanks for the offer.”

            Both Anthony and Ross never went back to the old basement ever again. Three years later Anthony and Ross both graduated and successfully became engineers as they wanted, but also, believe it or not they started their own hobby of making their own mannequins themselves. They opened a museum in Brooklyn N.Y. and it was really a success and interest that attracts a lot of people. 

The Mannequins (based on Master Bedii's Children)- Pat McGuire

                

 Photo courtesy of manex-usa.com



Sarphan led me to the basement of his apartment in New York City, where he kept his six mannequins. In the dark, spacious room stood six life-like bodies; their facial expressions blank and serious, as if waiting for an exciting or active moment. Dressed in modern American clothing, one would think these were actual people living in the apartment.  He called the mannequins his family.

            “It took me nearly twenty years to make these,” Sarphan said. “They represent various stages of life and the specific emotions associated with these stages.”

            He pointed each one of them out to me individually like a museum tour guide sharing his knowledge of the finest sculptures. The first mannequin he showed me was a little boy dressed in overalls and a baseball cap carrying a toy car. The little boy represented the innocence of a child and the curiosity towards the world around him. To the right of this mannequin was another boy, somewhat taller than the little boy. This boy was dressed in a basketball jersey and jeans and his left hand was making the “gang sign”. He represented the rebelliousness and the insecurity of the teenage years.

            “Did you feel those exact same emotions growing up?” I ask Sarphan.

            “I built these mannequins as a means of getting these emotions out,” he replied. “I feel like I can relate to each one of them.”

            He then went on to show me his next mannequin; a military soldier in his twenties saluting, which represented emancipation and strength while becoming an adult. Next to that was a somewhat older man wearing a business suit and holding a briefcase, symbolizing knowledge and confidence within a career. Then, I saw a mannequin of a father holding his son, symbolizing love and responsibility for family. Finally, I was shown a mannequin dressed as an old man holding a cane, symbolizing reflection and pride towards a worthwhile life.

            “I can tell your father inspired you to do this,” I said. “Do these mannequins give some kind of message?”

            “My father always said to pay attention to the gestures that make us who we are,” Sarphan replied. “I think it’s especially important to see those gestures as a person matures.”

            A few weeks after I visited Sarphan, his mannequins were chosen to be displayed in The Metropolitan Museum of Art. He invited me to the opening day of his exhibit. Afterwards, we went back to his apartment for coffee. We found his 14-year-old son Baysan starting to build his own mannequin in the basement.

            “I see he’s taking after your talent,” I said to Sarphan with a laugh.

            “Oh, it’s a family tradition,” he replied. “Not only are the men taught how to build mannequins, but they’re also taught the importance of studying people and their gestures.”