Theatre

'Ringside’ should probably be subtitled ‘The Big, Fat Turkish-Cypriot Wedding I Won’t Be Having But Have Been Too Many, Many Times’. As in his previous work ‘Leftovers‘ which was set in an east London greasy spoon, performance artist Mem Morrison once again uses concepts of place and self to explore his rich cultural heritage. He’s an ideal guide, open and inquiring, with just the right amount of outsider about him to avoid any sense of cultural tourism, for the story he tells is a story he fully owns.

Following on from his 2007 film installation ’Tebrik’ which also explored Turkish-Cypriot weddings, Morrison’s latest work invites an audience to attend a ceremony at the stunning Signet Hall. It’s not his wedding, rather a culmination of the hopes, fears and observations of the very many he has been to since childhood. Using audio commentary from a series of disembodied voices brought to life by Morrison, we hear about the experiences of various wedding guests. There’s the 12-year-old who hates weddings and provides us with hilarious up-to-the-minute commentary on what he must endure and the man of marrying age who doesn’t know what he wants but knows it isn’t what his parents expect of him.

‘Ringside’ is a thoughtful exploration of the roles we play and how that tallies up with who we really are. Before sitting down to the performance, audience members are asked to pose for group family photos in character. It was intriguing to see how easily people fell into the roles they were assigned - the bride, the groom, the best man - and I was ever so slightly disturbed by how quick I was to pose as the attention seeking sister of the bride. The piece ends with Morrison shrouded in a white tablecloth as if being throttled by a wedding dress, revealing that you can’t always escape your family ties, but you can choose to wear them well.

Signet Hall, West Parliament Square, Edinburgh.