Hasankeyf

Imagine a city clinging to both sides of a canyon, gazing at the same river for thousands of years… A city whose stones are woven from rock, its streets from caves, its memory from the Tigris. So what happens if one day such a city comes face to face with the river itself? Looking at Hasankeyf, you begin to search for the answer with both sorrow and a strange admiration; for here, too, the Tigris keeps flowing, but no longer in its old bed: now it flows over its own memory…