From Turkey to London and elsewhere, the residents of Kuba are on a tour. Courtesy Artangel.

Oskar Czerniawski meets some neighbours at the latest Artangel installation in London.

"Are you going to write the story of my life?" A blasphemous old poet, named Powderhead for the bullet lodged in his skull, looks me in the eye as I fumble with my pen and notepad. Art has never spoken to me so directly before.

Powderhead is just one of 40 inhabitants of Kuba, a unique community in Istanbul, that Kutlug Ataman, an acclaimed Turkish film-maker, has brought to London.

For nearly three years he filmed interviews with men, women and children united by the shanty town where they are proud to live. Now their stories are presented in a DVD installation in what was London’s largest Royal Mail sorting office on New Oxford Street until May 7 2005.

An unprepossessing art gallery. Courtesy Artangel.

The abandoned building, with its walls still covered with graffiti, its dusty floors and disused machinery, is a suitable setting for the exhibition. Kuba is a community that has had to make do, a hideout for left-wing militants and other outsiders since the 1950s. It has had to impose its own meaning on the space it could find. Ataman’s work does the same.

Opening the door onto the installation, you are greeted with the hubbub of 40 people talking at once. Their faces look at you from old TV sets of all shapes and sizes. In front of each television, there is a chair. Again, they are all different except for one factor: the chairs are all very comfortable.

This was kind of Mr Ataman as you will find yourself sitting in some of these chairs for quite a long time. The interviews are fascinating and most of them are set in the person’s own room, giving you an additional glimpse into their lives. One has a rifle mounted on her wall; another has a football poster. Their stories are just as diverse.

Talking heads by the dozen. Courtesy Artangel.

Some talk about state oppression and have horrific tales of torture. A woman tells of how the soles of her husband’s feet were beaten until the flesh was torn away between heel and toe.

But the spirit of Kuba lies in resistance, not only militant, like the man who has spent his life fighting “officials and police”, but spiritual. The wife refuses to dehumanise her husband’s torturers like they did him: “People are people. Everyone is a mother’s child.”

This basic human sympathy is also a theme that runs through the stories. Oppression does not define them. A boy talks about how he’d like to be a taxi driver because they get to go to football matches. One man lives in Kuba to avoid getting married off to a “well-behaved girl”. His ambitions are simple: “I want a house, a car and a good job.”

Sometimes they talk about Kuba directly. Those who arrived earliest still remember it as a wilderness with flocks of sheep roaming the land. Now it is a village where everyone knows each other and helps where they can.

Not your average TV room. Courtesy Artangel.

Sometimes their closeness can be stifling. A young man complains that he could never ask out a girl from Kuba because he would know her family and “she’ll think I’m a pervert.” The wannabe taxi-driver turns serious when he talks about Kuba’s history: “I get proud.”

Walking around the installation, it is striking that each television is set at a very low volume. Together, they dominate the cavernous space that was once a mail-sorting hall.

By making you sit with individuals, each talking calmly and quietly, Mr Ataman brings home the collective power of a community with the loudness that surrounds you.

Courtesy Artangel.

In three hours I saw only a handful of the 40 interviews, knowing that everyone will take away a different impression of Kuba, depending on where they choose to sit.

I recommend that you go with some friends. Split up and then tell each other about the fascinating people you will have met.

Kuba at The Sorting Office, 21 – 31 New Oxford Street, London, WC1. Opening hours for the Kuba Kafe: Tuesday – Sunday 11am – 7pm, Thursday until 9pm. Free admission.

For the full lowdown call the Kuba information line on 020 7713 1402 or see www.kuba.org.uk.