Merve MorkoçAbout

Body as sculpture, voice as its echo.
Like a fence with porous boundaries, always shifting.
A detective of dubious attempts, chasing the heavy
and the barely graspable.

Process over permanence, movement over resolution.
An ongoing experiment where form is but a momentary pause —punctuated by Notes app poetry.



Don’t be afraid to suffer—take your heaviness / and give it back to the earth’s own weight / the mountains are heavy, the oceans are heavy. ∆ Rainer Maria Rilke, from Sonnets to Orpheus ∆  




Spectacular Mediocrity One sad little candle, an ego-fueled match, and misplaced ambitions—truly a recipe for spectacular mediocrity. 🌬🔥


Witness the drama of melting wax, convinced it’s a masterpiece in the making. Watch as the flame flickers with the reckless bravado of someone who thinks they’ve reinvented fire. Smoke rises, a theatrical exit, carrying the unmistakable scent of burnt pride and maybe a little bit of singed hair. And when the grand spectacle collapses into a puddle of lukewarm wax, leaving nothing but a faint trail of disappointment, the audience is left in silent contemplation—was this a profound statement on impermanence, or just an overly dramatic way to waste a candle?


Video/Performance
2025




Supramodal
01:30:00
The performance is built on my curiosity about whether my relationship with sculptures alters the way the audience perceives three-dimensional objects.

Inter-sensory communication is much more flexible than we assume. Each modality can process data beyond its own domain. The brain's touch-related areas can integrate information from visual and auditory regions.

How much can what we hear manipulate what we see? I will continue exploring this question for a while. (And finally,) can we call this form of inter-sensory communication the “yin and yang” of perception?

Keep touching, smelling, and listening to sculptures.

Special thanks to @gulbineris for archiving the performance.

2022






whataweek.prproj 🆚 fiat dobloJust another ordinary day at the studio—I was messing around with my wig and fake breasts—when a Fiat Doblo pulled up outside. Two furious men got out and barged in. After a barrage of shouting, threats, and a full-blown fight, I ended up spending the night at the police station. I later found out that one of them was a wanted criminal and the brother of the studio owner. I filed a complaint, and after months of living in fear, he was finally arrested—only to be released soon after.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what it means to be a female artist in Turkey: one eye on your work, the other always on the door.








Just jelly and bread.🧃
It’s all about transformation—blood, yeast, earth—all working in their own time, rising, falling, renewing, and blending into something greater, each carrying the wisdom of creation and the patience of cycles that have existed for centuries.

Video/Performance
2022







Hairline Frequency Hair as an antenna—women tuning into vibes before Wi-Fi was a thing. Tails still make sense for animals: wagging, warning, showing off. But for humans? We just cut, dye, and complain about frizz. Maybe the signal is still there, buried under conditioner and bad haircuts.

Video/Performance
2022






Yes, it’s alive—no, it’s not.
00:30:00
The fragile tension between the blade and the balloon mirrors the vulnerability of skin, the anticipation of rupture always present. It is a quiet confrontation with touch, risk, and the illusion of control.

Live Performance

2021






The body claims its space. ( )I’m not even here and other ghost stories.

2025







Spring is not near, it’s here 💫Artificial spring, powered by DC motors and batteries—because reality wasn’t blooming fast enough.

Wearable Sculpture
2022






Body and its affiliations as a field of researchAt various times, for various reasons—some planned, but mostly reflexive body and form explorations.






Need For Speed Book Club Extending sculptural practice through movement and the body.ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ