Mimaroğlu: The Robinson of Manhattan Island
The directorial debut of Serdar Kökçeoğlu provides the viewer a detailed account of electronic music pioneer İlhan Mimaroğlu. He was a Turkish migrant who found his footing in New York, blending political and philosophical messages with his passion for electronic music. Having no personal experience with Mimaroğlu’s work, this touching, charming documentary presents a comfortable exploration of his art, which does not leave any audience member behind. Its inclusivity and dedication to uncovering the meaning behind this artist’s work are resounding, making for an entertaining and compelling documentary. Mimaroğlu: The Robinson of Manhattan Island looks to dissect a niche musician through his own words.
Divulging so much information in such a short period is being handled in a rather impressive manner. Through a documentary made almost entirely of unseen footage recorded by Mimaroğlu, we get a real sense for his personal life and political views, and how these heavily impacted the music he made. The footage details his journey from Istanbul, Turkey, to New York City, where he began to study at Columbia-Princeton. His expedition into crafting music leads him to various collaborations, and the meanings behind his music are explained through pre-recorded narration by Mimaroğlu himself.
Mimaroğlu has such evident pride not just for his work, but for the genre as well. There are soundbites that discuss the impact of great composers, and the damage they do to those looking to make a living: confounded thoughts of a man struggling to break into the mainstream. It is rather easy to latch onto this documentary; a likeable, interesting person is presented, and the film follows his work in a relatively straightforward manner. It never picks apart the various releases, in a timeline of reception of the work which is a shame, as it would have been extremely interesting to see what contemporary audiences made of Mimaroğlu’s pieces. Nevertheless, the viewer does receive relevant and fascinating information on his personal life, and how he left a lasting impression on electronic music.
Viewers also spend time with Güngör Mimaroğlu, political activist and wife of İlhan. The two make for a tremendous pairing, with İlhan’s political stance provided by his music, and that of Güngör’s in activism throughout the 1960s and beyond. Spectacularly engrossing clips from interviews with the two of them are a gateway into their world, their thought process, and the activities the two took such pride in.
New York is presented as the land of dreams for electronic music producers. Mimaroğlu’s work and ideology are painted with such a vivid love from Kökçeoğlu, whose interest in the subject oozes off the screen and into the mind of the viewer. Creative visuals make up most of the film: home-recorded footage that has a finite link with the narration. The music is genuinely good too, and for those interested in the bleak, politically charged compositions of Mimaroğlu, this documentary serves as a necessary stepping stone down a path of unrecognised creativity. It tells the story of a frustrated artist , with his musings on the world and life around him coming under criticism, from none other than himself in an exceptionally absorbing documentary.