Resisting in Grief
Whose lives are worthy of being mourned, and whose lives aren't? In their work, multidisciplinary artist Leman Sevda Darıcıoğlu interrogates this question by examining how the necro- and biopolitics of Turkey determine the disposability of human life, a sociopolitical theory about the political power deciding how certain people may live or die. Within their artistic practice, Leman examines the vulnerability, resistance, and the effects of marginalization and violence on the lives and death of precarious, particularly queer, communities. The artist delves into the politics of death, mourning, resistance, and the systemic erasure of these marginalized communities through the Kimsesiz cemeteries (Turkish: "those who have no one").
Kimsesiz cemeteries are Turkish burial grounds for the unclaimed dead, thus for unidentified and abandoned corpses. In reality, the state uses these cemeteries to dispose of those it considers undesirable, outcasts, or enemies: queer individuals, victims of femicide, premature babies, refugees, Kurdish resistance fighters, victims of state violence and murder, and sometimes perpetrators of violence. Through a bureaucratic system, vastly different people and circumstances are collapsed into a single official category of the unwanted and unclaimed. People buried in the ground without a headstone, their existence marked only by a number, like a prison that is impossible to break out of. The systemic erasure through the Kimsesiz is not only condemning individuals to oblivion, but also concealing political violence while obstructing social justice and legal transparency. Can collective grief operate as a form of resistance, and similarly, can the act of remembering loss become a gesture of solidarity?
In the multi-channel video From the Lines of Difference, premiered in the project space Neun Kelche, Berlin and now in display at Mouches Volantes, Cologne, Leman approaches the issue of state-sanctioned cemeterial erasure through the lens of resistance: queer, feminist, refugee rights, and Kurdish movements that protest for the reclaiming of the dead and for the right to mourn them with dignity. This work extends their past research in installations such as 2026's Havuz, a video installation whose title refers to the Turkish word for "pool", a term used by gravediggers to describe the cemetery.
From the Lines of Difference interweaves materials from community and personal archives of activists, digital media archives and conducted interviews, recorded as video or audio depending on the interviewee's wish, with organizations and activists who demand the return of bodies of their dead and struggle against the dehumanizing necropolitical system responsible for the desecration of the corpses. The memories of the deceased are evoked through stories told by their friends. The video work provides a haunting glimpse into the previous lives of those buried in the Kimsesiz cemeteries: stories of life and death, love and justice unfold, at times broken by the weight of silence, perhaps one of the most profound forms of remembrance, but also a sign of utter speechlessness. The visual language of the video is what the artist calls their "queer grief" methodology, altering archival footage using vivid colors.
But what are the consequences for a society in which a group of individuals are not only marginalized in life, but also in death?
Darıcıoğlu addresses these weighty ethical and political questions in the durational performance An Act of Accompaniment by reflecting on traditions of collective mourning in Southwest Asia. During the performance, the artist washes a stone, symbolically representing the multitude of lives that were unjustly laid to rest. Drawing on cemetery practices, the washing of the stone becomes simultaneously a process of farewell, mourning, resistance, and care. The process-oriented character of the performance allows space for diverse emotional expressions, such as anger, sorrow or tranquility, inviting the visitors to watch and linger, challenging them to engage with the uneasy feelings that might resurface within them.
The piece was performed by the artist for seven days, six hours each day, following the opening at Neun Kelche.
Text by Sára Székely for the Neun Kelche exhibition