Banu Cennetoğlu Confronts the Politics of Protection

In ‘BEING SAFE IS SCARY’, Turkish artist Banu Cennetoğlu reflects upon the adversities of the migrant experience, hinting at the extraordinary powers that governments can wield in the guise of protection. Poignantly, the opening of her show coincided with the arrest of Istanbul’s mayor, Ekrem İmamoğlu – the strongest political opponent to Turkey’s president, Recep Erdogan – under seemingly spurious charges of corruption and support for terrorism. 

At the entrance to Kunsthal Charlottenborg, four towers of golden, letter-shaped balloons herald a somewhat hollow celebration (right?, 2022-ongoing). They respectively spell out articles 21, 22, 23 and 24 from the United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights that enshrines the rights of every individual to serve their country, to work in fair conditions and to be entitled to rest, leisure and social security. Over time, the balloons will deflate, their sad remains a monument to the shortcomings of the declaration, which excludes protection for groups like the stateless. Exhibited in Copenhagen, right? is a reminder that the welfare system only extends to those who meet the requirements of Danish citizenship. 

Cennetoğlu is an avid collector of words and images. Archival material is the basis of the newly commissioned installation 29.01.2025 (2025), for which she collated every newspaper published in Denmark on the titular date in eight bound volumes. The date itself is not particularly noteworthy; rather, the work speaks to the media’s choices to highlight certain stories and disregard others. When print news inevitably becomes obsolete, the volumes will be a testament to the way history was once shaped and recorded.

Elsewhere, False Witness (2024) comprises a pile of briquettes made from the pulped remains of Cennetoğlu’s eponymous 2003 photobook about the Ter Apel asylum centre in the Netherlands. The wall label notes that, from 1993 to the present day, more than 60,000 people have died as a result of the European asylum policy. If Cennetoğlu’s photographs of Ter Apel were a quiet commentary on the frustrations of the asylum experience, these combustible blocks carry the potential to ignite in protest. A similar sense of exasperation permeates GLITCHEZ & BITCHEZ (2024), a group of drawings repeatedly scratched out with a ruled line, like a private form of anger management.

Also featured is Cennetoğlu’s 2018 video 1 January 1970 – 21 March 2018 · H O W B E I T · Guilty feet have got no rhythm · Keçiboynuzu · AS IS · MurMur · I measure every grief I meet · Taq u Raq · A piercing Comfort it affords · Stitch · Made in Fall · Yes. But. We had a golden heart. · One day soon I’m gonna tell the moon about the crying game. Offering a snapshot of human life whilst examining the way images are saved and shared, the film splices footage of  the artist’s family with Istanbul’s 2013 Gezi Park protests against restrictions to freedom of speech and assembly. The juxtaposition of these visuals suggests that our individual sense of safety might be more precarious than we imagine when seen through a wider societal lens.

As the broadcasting of war in real time makes it increasingly difficult to turn a blind eye to contemporary atrocities, Cennetoğlu questions our willingness to act when confronted with uncomfortable truths. Entschuldigung (Sorry, 2021) – a group of 44 etchings reiterating the titular word, handwritten by individuals affiliated with the Zurich forensic police whom the artist invited to make an apology without explanation – offer an absolution from inaction. Yet, it’s hard to shake the feeling of guilt when faced with this row of empty regrets connoting an unseen violence. Cennetoğlu’s works continuously shoulder the burden of history to highlight the fallacy of safety and the violent consequences of its failure.

Banu Cennetoğlu’s ‘BEING SAFE IS SCARY’ is on view at Kunsthal Charlottenborg, Copenhagen, until 10 August 

_{Main image: Banu Cennetoğlu, Entschuldigung (detail), 2021, installation view ‘BEING SAFE IS SCARY’, 2025. Courtesy: the artist and Kunsthal Charlottenborg; photograph: David Stjernholm}