The Challenges We Face
We do this work in a country where artistic freedom stands on unstable ground. (Self)censorship and deepening economic crises shape the conditions of cultural production. Organizing an inclusive festival in Istanbul is not a neutral act. It is a form of resistance. Every choice, from artist selection to language of marketing and communication, unfolds within a landscape shaped by shifting power dynamics and cultural fault lines.
One of the most persistent challenges we face is the absence of strong unions or advocacy structures that can protect musicians as a collective. Without organized representation, artists are left to navigate contracts, cancellations and workplace safety on their own. This isolation increases their vulnerability and makes it harder to demand structural change.
The networks that do exist are often fragmented. Musicians working in different genres, cities or career stages rarely have opportunities to connect, exchange strategies or build solidarity. This disconnection weakens the potential for coordinated action.
Funding remains another critical barrier. In Türkiye, there is no comprehensive public funding system that supports music production. Unlike cinema or theatre, where public subsidies exist, musicians are often left out of cultural support frameworks altogether. Occasionally, institutions such as the Ministry of Culture and Tourism or local municipalities may invite musicians to perform at events, but this is rarely accompanied by structural support for their creative work. As a result, the artists who gain visibility are often those who already have access to resources, while issues of representation, accessibility and equity remain unaddressed.
At the same time, precarity continues to grow. In the live music scene, rising costs and the dominance of major players have made it harder for small venues and independent artists to survive. In the recorded music sector, algorithm-driven platforms make it difficult for experimental or non-mainstream genres to reach audiences, no matter their artistic value.
These challenges are not temporary. They shape the everyday decisions of artists, and they determine who gets to be seen, heard and supported. For many, the struggle to make music is also the struggle to stay in music.
Advice: For Artists, Organizers, and Decision-Makers
Organizers: Think beyond logistics. Who gets to speak? Who is excluded? How will you respond when harm occurs?
Policy-makers: Incorporate safety into your frameworks: not just in theory, but in budgets, eligibility criteria, and reporting processes.
One of the most meaningful findings from our report was that 90% of surveyed musicians want to engage in advocacy. The will for change is there. What’s needed now are systems that can support and sustain it.
We already see examples of this taking shape across Türkiye’s independent music landscape. In Istanbul, especially around Kadıköy, a number of venues and collectives have created alternative music communities rooted in care, resistance and experimentation. Places like Karga, Hood Base, Bina and Arkaoda have become cultural anchors for emerging artists and underground genres. Beyoğlu, despite the ebb and flow of closures, has long carried this spirit through spaces like Şahika, Roxy, the now-closed Anahit Sahne, and Blind (formerly Babylon)—each contributing to a more diverse nightlife culture.
Beyond the venues, initiatives like Queerwaves, Sista Sound, and XSM Recordings have built intentional platforms centering queer, feminist and marginalized voices. Independent labels such as A.K. Müzik, Gulbaba Records, Tamar Records, Tarla Records and Mevzu Records continue to support subcultural music in an industry that often sidelines it. Even in a climate where music publishing has slowed dramatically, projects or radios like Açık Radyo, Loft Caz, Radyo Modyan, Fugamundi and Beatsommelier show how curation and storytelling remain powerful tools for community-building.
These efforts may not have mainstream visibility, but they matter. They remind us that safer spaces don’t emerge from institutions alone. They are built patiently by those who live for music, who believe in its power, and who insist on making room for one another.