Ringside by Mem Morrison

In Ringside, performance artist Mem Morrison invites you to take part in a family wedding encompassing the horror and pleasure of all those he attended himself throughout his life, and which acts as a rehearsal for his own to come. Morrison tells us more about his work and how he draws from his own family history to reflect on more universal human experiences of loss or connection. Interview by Canan Marasligil. Photo by Andrew Whittuck.

You are presenting Ringside in a wonderful setting here, the Signet Library. How important is the location for this specific work and how does it help you express your vision of a wedding?

We slightly changed the piece for Edinburgh and adapted it to the Signet Library, but the idea is that the piece has been made for very central places of the community like civic spaces or town hall spaces. I attended a lot of weddings in these places as a child, and not just Turkish or Turkish Cypriot, but from all cultures. These spaces have been quite dead spaces now. The younger generations would not have had that experience, I’m just old enough to have experienced it. The idea of Ringside was to use a space where you would normally go to a wedding, a space that has some kind of history, and to bring a whole new life into it. The space brings the community together for celebration. For the Signet Library, I have decided to work more with the architecture and not use much light. I didn’t want to impose too much on the space.

You also like to play with the scale, for instance with the use of the headphones.
Yes, I very much like the idea of playing with scale. Some spaces we play in are the size of a football stadium! By giving headphones to the audience, I wanted to make it feel as if I was talking to every single person individually. It’s a very small intimate moment within a very grand space.

Indeed, one even feels isolated with these headphones on. Is it also the way people feel in weddings, being there without really wanting to be there?

I’ve been to a lot of weddings as a child, as a teenager and as an adult. Most of the time I didn’t relate to it or I didn’t want to be there, still enjoying it for what they were, but showing a façade, another me. That’s what I was trying to capture with the headphones, and the personal moment in this big celebration.

You also explore sexuality within this work.

Yes, especially as a gay man, being in that very Turkish Cypriot environment where everyone tries to connect you to a young woman, making it specific that it is going to be “my turn next”, as I keep repeating towards the end. I don’t have a problem with that if it is what you want, my sister met her husband at a wedding and they are happily married still. But for me personally, being the youngest of four I’m already within a different generation and I feel like I can challenge it.

And it doesn’t only relate to gay men but all men who are forced into the circle?
Indeed, it’s about sexuality but also about being in love. It was a challenge for me as I grew up and I knew that my sexuality was going to cause an enormous headache. I’ve seen so many Turkish and Turkish Cypriot men that have ended up getting married and are unhappy because they are in denial of their sexuality. It is something that is not hugely talked about within the Turkish speaking communities. However, I wanted to use something that is recognizable at a global level, the celebration, getting togetherness every culture will relate to. Also, my work comes from a personal place but it isn’t only about my life story. You can find your own way of connecting with it.

And your piece isn’t only about sexuality either.
No, it’s also about culture, religion, about being a man, being a woman. The women in the piece have total control of the piece. They play along with me but then they deconstruct it. They are the ones having contact with the audience as well, where I don’t play with the audience, which is different from my previous works. Here I don’t even hear anything because I have ear monitors, I’m cut off.

For Ringside, you work with local women from the places where you perform. How does it work? Do you make a selection, how do you prepare?
Wherever we go, we will work in collaboration either with a commissioning party or a partner venue, and we make an open call: women, any age, 18+. After we explain what would be expected from them. They might be performers, dancers, people who’ve never been on a stage before, a visual artist or a photographer interested in trying a new form of expression. So it is a real mix. The show is very precise and clean, and I like that the women have different energies. I work up to two weeks with them to come to a neutral place. I don’t want them to be acting, they will be given tasks to perform throughout the piece, like greeting the audience, preparing the tables, dancing with the men in the audience…

How does the audience react to the piece? Has your family seen it?
My parents came to see me, and they could see the real me and especially how an audience would respond to it. And they liked the piece a lot, one of the women got my father to dance and I had never seen my father slow dance before! Then the rest of my family came. It was a really special moment for me because they’ve all contributed to this work which challenges sexuality. The audience also contributes to the piece when they pin the money to the ribbon for instance.

Have you performed a lot in front of Turkish speaking communities?
Yes, in London we had full sold out shows in spaces where a lot of the Turkish weddings took place in the 60s and 70s. We got on average at least 10-15 Turkish speaking audience every night. A lot of them spoke to me after they’ve seen the work, and despite the element of nostalgia, it raised the debate about the pressure of marriage on men and women. I felt I had to take the responsibility to be a sort of role model for the younger generation, to empower them and tell them “you have a voice”.

And your work isn’t only about specific communities, it appeals to everyone, we all need a voice.
Yes, even if this piece takes a specific culture as a basis, what I want to say is that people don’t have to follow what everyone before them has done and that they have the power to be what they want to be. That’s what we really need to nurture. 



Until 28 August, Signet Library Edinburgh.

www.artsadmin.co.uk/memmorrison