6th Mardin Biennial in the spotlight of criticism

Vecdi Erbay from Duvar shared his impressions of the 6th Mardin Biennial and the events unfolding behind the scenes.

Here is Erbay's article:

The 'International Mardin Biennial', held for the 6th time this year, began with controversy, and it seems these discussions will continue for some time. I must state upfront that I have no complaints about the existence of discussions, criticisms, or suggestions. I believe that every discussion, criticism, and suggestion will contribute to the biennial and similar events, even if not in the short term.

I went to Mardin after reading a few newspaper articles about the Mardin Biennial. Unfortunately, the articles criticized the way the biennial was organized, the choice of artists, and its content.

I say unfortunately because Mardin, with its languages, beliefs, architecture, and culture, is a very capable venue for a biennial, and it seems the team organizing the biennial chose to close their eyes to these possibilities and look "Further Away". As such, the validity of the criticisms directed at the biennial comes to the fore. Because, as they say in Mardin, "Mardin is not just about tumbler pigeons," nor is it right to limit it to the vast, mesmerizing landscape of the plains.

Mardin has an identity issue, first and foremost. There is a demand to make its identity heard, accepted, and to obtain its rights. The frequently used phrase, "Languages, religions, and cultures live in peace in Mardin," feels to me like an attempt to soften and normalize, to use two popular words of recent days. Moreover, this normalization effort is being attempted by detaching Mardin from Kızıltepe, Savur, and Nusaybin.

I suppose one must admit that this effort has been partially successful. An perception has been created over time: Mardin is a historical, multicultural, multi-faith, multilingual, touristic, and peaceful city. But what about Kızıltepe, whose population rivals Mardin's? If one looks a bit more carefully from the tea garden near the old post office, one could see Dirbêsî, divided by barbed wire and walls. A biennial with the motivation, knowledge, and enthusiasm to see the distant up close could also share in Mardin's fate.

As far as I could observe, the team organizing the biennial closed their eyes to Mardin and looked far away. As a result, the biennial has remained far from expressing at least the current Mardin and its demands. I think the Mardin-born figures involved in the biennial organization have a large share in this.

How you introduce your city is how it remains in the memory of your guest. A false perception of Mardin is formed for the curators and art enthusiasts who prepare works for the biennial and come to see the works exhibited. It becomes normal for this perception to be reflected in the content of the exhibited works and video projects.

Actually, I must also state: I believe to the end that an artist's interpretation should be free. Furthermore, an artist has the ability to prepare their work with a vision of the future. Perhaps the artist, inspired by the biennial's "Further Away" theme, is imagining Mardin a century from now in their work, who knows.

But there is a bleeding wound, and people expect actions that will heal this wound, both from the biennial's philosophy and from the artists participating in the biennial.

(Rıdvan Aşar-Serenay Sarıkaya)

COMMON CRITICISMS OF THE BIENNIAL

The fact that the festival's communication language is Turkish and English has also been a subject of criticism. What about the Kurdish, Arabic, and Syriac spoken in Mardin, which you boast about being multilingual? The biennial community could have included these languages in the brochures, even if only out of courtesy. An entity like a biennial usually has close ties with capital. Perhaps for this reason, it turned its back on the languages spoken in Mardin.

Then there is the incident of Asena Hayal being removed from the stage, which can only be described as racism. Yeşim Aksoy, responsible for PR work for the biennial's sponsor brand, was disturbed by DJ Asena Hayal playing two Arabic and one Kurdish song and removed Hayal from the stage. The music might be Eastern, but two tunes in Kurdish are absolutely unacceptable.

The criticisms I could read were already focused on these issues.

Şehmus Diken, in his article titled "The Cultural Carriers of the Colony," also criticized the removal of Asena Hayal from the stage and the use of the kopuz in Baba Zula's performance. Although I find the title a bit too ambitious, it is a critical article that should be supported to the end because he is exercising his right to criticize. However, a window needs to be opened for this article. Because the last sentence of the article was: "And my words are for the silent Mardinites in Diyarbakır who claim every time that they are doing 'work' in the name of culture; if you are silent, what is the reason?"

Honestly, as a Mardinite living in Diyarbakır and trying to do 'work' in the name of culture by chance, I did not take this criticism or complaint personally. But I did not know why many Mardinites living in Diyarbakır and interested in culture and art were accused of being silent based on a biennial they had nothing to do with. The colony has been carrying culture for a century, and objecting to this is primarily the right of the cultural figures living in Mardin. They already exercised this right properly by signing a biennial parallel to the "Further Away" biennial.

'PARALLEL BIENNIAL' IS A VERY ENJOYABLE NAME

Honestly, I started this article with the desire to say a few things about the "parallel biennial." First of all, the naming "Parallel Biennial" is very enjoyable because it contains a mischievous criticism and objection.

It would not have been possible to pass without mentioning it, even if based on the discussions from the 6th International Mardin Biennial with the theme "Further Away".

I visited a few exhibitions belonging to the "Further Away" biennial. I would like to state that I liked the works in the exhibitions, to the extent that I understand painting. The works I saw were trying to bring new interpretations to the artistic, political, sociological, and ecological problems of today's world with the language of contemporary art.

I could not visit the remaining exhibitions and video works. Because I met writer İrfan Amida and photographer Tehsîn Baravî. We drank tea at the venue where Baravî exhibited his photographs and talked at length about the Mardin Biennial and the exhibitions that Mardinite artists opened at the same time as the biennial.

Baravî has no complaints about a biennial being held in Mardin. However, he also lists his criticisms of the biennial. "I wish the biennial were prepared with a healthy dialogue with the artists here," he says. Baravî finds it positive that artists, curators, and art lovers come to the city because of the biennial. Those who come for the biennial also make contact with the city's artists, and this becomes a positive encounter for both sides.

After catching our breath, we visited Baravî's exhibition titled Vekişîn (Withdraw).

Baravî mostly takes photographs of Mardin's nature. I must state that I admire his photographs. A few of the photographs he exhibited were purchased by those who came to Mardin for the biennial.

İrfan Amîda showed me the other exhibitions opened within the framework of the "parallel biennial." Rıdvan Aşar's exhibition titled Third Person was interesting. His works, which hover between caricature and painting, were critical and striking.

İbrahim Ayhan, in his exhibition A Place in My Body, focused on the art of deq (tattooing), one of the ancient traditions of the region. Ayhan is in an effort to remember and keep an art alive with the deqs he drew on paper and worked on cloth. While visiting the exhibition, one feels the need to stop in front of each work and look a little longer.

The artist who signed the weaving exhibition titled Ghost Thread is Roza Tulga. The subtitle of the exhibition is also ambitious: "Have you ever touched the heart of Mesopotamia?" Roza Tulga worked by focusing on the legends and stories belonging to Mesopotamia with thread and turned the exhibition space into a visual feast dominated by red. We visited the exhibition together with Roza Tulga. She explained the work she did in detail along with their stories. One can feel the effort of giving an artistic shape to threads.

I visited a few more exhibitions and had the opportunity to see striking works in these exhibitions as well. According to İrfan Amîda, there were a few more exhibitions in the "parallel biennial" that we could not visit. However, the evening darkness was slowly falling on Mardin, and I did not have time.

The exhibitions in the parallel biennial were opened in old Mardin houses. Some exhibition halls were in the courtyards of these houses and lacked the Mardin view. Still, they made one feel the coolness of those stone houses. Whether they have a view or not, these spaces, which have been saved from being cafes and turned into exhibition halls, should be visited. Both to feel the spirit of the stone and to be close to art.

Also, keep in mind that in these exhibition halls, Kurdish, Turkish, Arabic, and Syriac are spoken freely, just as they are on the street.