Destruction, pain, sorrow. Cut! Everyone can stop pretending to be sad.

On Feb. 6, southern Türkiye's nearly 11 provinces that the world was closely following and assisting were shaken by a massive earthquake.

Since the earthquake, we have seen on the news and on social media countless scenes that are difficult for most people to digest, and they have not yet ended.

We experienced a nondescript pain as a nation and Türkiye "united" and "became one heart" – some heroic verses we needed. Our archaic feelings of unity, togetherness which have been engraved in our cultural identity, came to the surface in the face of an immediate catalyst.

However, this "grief" that we claimed to have experienced as a nation has turned into a superficial, artificial and for many people, a source of propaganda, an attention-getting factor, an emptied moral show, ultimately transforming it into kitsch. A "kitschification of emotions" I might say. Frankly, this newly emerging form of hollowness in society, yet trying to be seen emotional and sensitive in the face of tragedies, make me more terrified than the disasters to come.

An influential essay by the art critic Clement Greenberg, first published in 1939, argued that kitsch is a form of cultural production that panders to the lowest common denominator in taste and intellect, appealing to sentimental or nostalgic emotions rather than aesthetic values.

Greenberg also claimed that kitsch is a mass-produced form of art that aims to satisfy the tastes and desires of the masses, often by exploiting popular stereotypes or cliches.

In this context, there have been some examples where emotions have been portrayed in a way that seems shallow and inappropriate given the gravity of the situation. One of the most concerning examples is the videos we see on social media and television that show footage of the collapsed buildings set to musical collages featuring images of people being pulled out from under the rubble. It is difficult to understand how someone who is genuinely saddened by an event could create such a collage, let alone set it to music. However, for weeks we have been bombarded with images that have been artificially dramatized with sad music, which seems to trivialize the deep pain of those who have been directly affected by the tragedy.

Kitsch often simplifies complex ideas or themes, making them easy to understand but also reducing their depth or complexity. At this point, we have unfortunately seen thousands of images that have lost all depth and failed to show respect for real grief. Unfortunately.

Another example that particularly disturbs me is the way in which the father who held the hand of his deceased daughter under the rubble has become a symbol of loss after the earthquake. All media outlets attempted to interview this father to gain credit. Some even went so far as to add dialogue between the child and father to this image. This situation has now escalated to the point where this image is being shared on social media with slogans such as "never forget" and "don't let us forget," and messages that suggest it should serve as a reason for us to be grateful for our own lives. I have never seen such an ugly way of trying to artificially inject ourselves into genuine grief. Everywhere we turn, we see our morals and values being hollowed out.

Kitsch often tries to evoke strong emotions, such as nostalgia or sentimentality, through the use of sentimental themes or imagery.

Just when I thought we couldn't further trivialize this tragedy and turn it into a spectacle, bam – the image of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk on the wall of a collapsed building, accompanied by one of his famous quotes. These images circulated on social media for a while, as we tried to suppress our emotions and grief and instead share nationalistic messages. But where was our real pain when we were busy photoshopping the walls of the homes of people who were suffering from such profound sadness? By trying to make Atatürk's image separate from the issue at hand, and even going so far as to say that Atatürk himself might have been ashamed of such an image, we lost sight of the true depth of our sorrow.

Kitsch tends to be overly decorative, with an emphasis on bright colors, ornate designs and excessive embellishments.

A dark power has risen. The underworld is to take its revenge. An underworld monster. More devastating is yet to come. Istanbul, be careful! These were the sentences that made our complex feelings even worse, forcing us to be more anxious about the issue.

Why didn't we direct our energy toward those who suffered great harm in this disaster? Instead, we watched for hours on end as at least four speakers predicted which area of Istanbul the next earthquake would hit. We were bombarded with phrases that turned the earthquake into a cruel, unpredictable beast, a foreboding leviathan of exaggerated, unrealistic tragedy. We watched this empty spectacle for days, but why didn't we focus on those who have been affected by the disaster and needed our help?

The recent earthquake in southern Türkiye has brought to the surface the complex emotions of the nation, revealing a societal tendency toward kitschification of emotions. This phenomenon has resulted in an artificial portrayal of grief, in which people seem more concerned with the appearance of being emotional rather than truly feeling the pain and sorrow of those affected by the disaster. The media has played a significant role in perpetuating this trend, with images and videos that trivialize the depth of the tragedy and exploit it for propaganda and attention-seeking purposes.

It is concerning that in the face of a genuine tragedy, we have allowed ourselves to be consumed by shallow emotions and misplaced priorities, rather than focusing on providing support to those who have been affected. Moving forward, it is important to recognize the dangers of kitschification of emotions and strive to show genuine compassion and empathy towards those in need, rather than turning tragedies into empty spectacles.

*Culture & Arts editor at Daily Sabah