Audience Involvement, Multiple Layering, and Resonances in Numbers Increase As We Count…

Ülfet Sevdi*

To the memory of Gülden Özcan

Abstract

In this paper, I offer a reflection on three different aspects of my performance Numbers Increase As We Count…, aspects that I think will be of interest to performance theoreticians and/or artists: 1) the technique I have called “Reverse Verbatim”; 2) the dramaturgical reasons behind my use of layering of video archives; 3) the way the performance grew from audience responses, and how I have included these responses inside the performance. In order to do this, I first describe the performance, its themes, the techniques I have used, the aims I had and the history of the performance.

Keywords: performative acting, Numbers Increase As We Count…, reverse verbatim, dramaturgy, documentary theatre, Performance studies, methodology for performance

Introduction

In this paper, I offer a reflection on three different aspects of my performance Numbers Increase As We Count… that I think will be of interest to performance theoreticians and/or artists. I will present my technique that I call “Reverse Verbatim,” explain the dramaturgical reasons behind my use of layering of video archives and describe the way that performance grew from audience responses and how I included these responses in the performance.

In order to do this, I will first describe the performance, its themes, the techniques I used, my aims and its performance history across different versions. I understand Numbers Increase As We Count… as an ongoing, potentially endless and variable performance: it changes depending on the context of its presentation; on its performers, or absence of them when I present it as a solo version or as a “talk-performance”; on the current state of the project, as its open and exponential nature makes it able to incorporate any and all accumulated materials related to the project that can, thus, be used as archival material for future presentations.

It is a project that I have been carrying with me since around 2013, just before immigrating from Türkiye to live in Montréal, Canada. It has been the centre of my Research and Creation Master Thesis in the INDI program at Concordia University (2021), and it has already been presented in different versions as a performance and as a talk-performance in Brazil, Canada, Colombia, Denmark, Ireland and the U.S.A. It received funding by the Canada Council for the Arts, the Cole Foundation, and was co-produced with the MAI (Montréal, Arts Interculturels) and Playwrights’ Workshop Montreal.

Numbers Increase As We Count…

What does it mean to protest suffering, as distinct from acknowledging it?
Sontag 40

Numbers Increase As We Count… is based around a simple task: counting. 1. 2. 3 . . . This counting refers to the estimated number of victims of sex trafficking as a direct result of the U.S. invasion of Iraq: an endless performance if we were to continue the counting until we reach the actual numbers. But this is exactly the message: every second that passes brings more women into trafficking.

The piece is about imperialism, war and destruction; it is about the way it affects women and, therefore, touches on the question of why people flee their countries and seek refuge in countries like Canada—my place of residence for the last nine years—and other countries that are directly responsible for what is happening in the Global South and, specifically (in the present-day context), in the so-called “Middle-East.” The culpability of these countries has been powerfully described by Yves Engler, Timothy A. Sayle, Alan Barnes and others.

The main idea for a performance based on the dramaturgy of counting came to me as I was witnessing the day-by-day increase in the number of Iraqi and Syrian refugees escaping to Istanbul and other places in Türkiye. These refugees added themselves to the already great number of Afghan refugees from a decade before and the Iraqis who escaped the U.S. invasion of their country. Counting serves as an unending, obsessive litany that represents and refers to the infinite nature of war and its victims, and it specifically represents the continually growing number of women who are being trafficked.

Numbers Increase As We Count… is a Research-Creation project, an “emergent category within the social sciences and humanities in Canada” (Chapman and Sawchuk 5). In other countries, it would be put under the banner of “practice-as-research” (Nelson), “arts-based research” (Leavy), “practice-led research” (Candy) or some other term that refers to an academic endeavour for which the practice is central in the elaboration, presentation and dissemination of the artistic research. In short, Numbers Increase As We Count… performs research that could not have been accomplished without utilizing artistic practice.

In my case, my central research questions are related to how I could build a whole performance around the simple idea of counting. How can a simple task become the motor for building a powerful performance? How do we work with performers in the process of building what I would like to call a “task-based performance”? And how can task-based performance eventually lead to a “task-based methodology” for performance? I arrived at some answer(s) to these questions after the long process of working on this project as part of my academic contribution to the fields of performance practice and performance studies. I also arrived at answers to questions that I did not necessarily ask when I began this project, including answers that came in the form of the newly discovered techniques and dramaturgical solutions that are discussed in the present paper.

As I said, the idea of using counting as the basis for performance came very early to me. Counting was a way to perform and, more importantly, a way to protest. In the process of creating this performance/protest, I had to develop a methodology to work with the performers who would count on stage. Through many exercises in the studio, and reflection on the outcomes, I came up with a methodology that I have called “Performative Acting.” The main reason for developing this methodology was that I did not want to present a performance that is rehearsed, that would be completely prepared, finished and polished. The topic and the main task—that is, counting—could not have been delivered this way. What I wanted was performer spontaneity so that they could act in a dramaturgically prepared structure with the emotions and consciousness of the present moment. I now offer the following definitions of what I mean by “Performative Acting”—of what it means for performers to performatively act—in order to elucidate subsequent discussions of my project.

Performative Acting

Performative Acting describes the role that is given to performers, a role that they will perform inside a structure that a dramaturge/director (facilitator) will create (see below for “Structure”). Performative Acting is centered on giving simple and specific tasks (here: counting) to the performers, tasks that ground their performance in the Structure. The performers are asked to react as themselves within and in relation to the dramaturgical structure. The whole process that leads up to the performance—rehearsals, talks and exercises—is also part of Performative Acting, in the sense that the performers are affected by this process: they cannot actively perform the same way at the beginning as at the end since they change(d), they learn(ed), they become/became and they find/found. Performative Acting revolves around three keywords: “to Know,” “to Find” and “to Become.”

Structure

A structure is a dramaturgically organized dynamic flow of information that surrounds and affects the performers while they performatively act. This information can come in many different forms: video archives, audio archives, documentary material, speeches made by the director, music and so on. The structure can be completely predefined—for the performers, that is: they know exactly what will happen and when, but it can also be left open until the performance itself so that the performers are surprised by what they encounter, in the same way the audience is when they see the performance.

Structure in this context includes story, narrative, plot, action and exposition. The flow of information can be linearly organized, as in a linear narrative or even a plot, or not. The most important aspect of the Structure is that it contains material that will somehow affect how the performers are performing and cause reactions to the information at any given moment. “Structure” is, therefore, a notion that can be situated at the level of dramaturgy as well as at the level of direction.

Since it is open to the dramaturge/director to envision and create the “Structure,” I decided on a term that is as general and abstract as possible and that includes multiple possibilities and remains open-ended. In the case of Numbers Increase As We Count…, I use a specific type of structure: I provide a flow of information about the specific situation about which that performance is concerned and that is dramaturgically facilitated/prepared because of the nature of the material it engages. This structure also functions as a protest. Any dramaturge/director will have to discover for herself the type of structure that fits both the task that the performative actors will execute and the nature of the content with which the performance is dealing. That is, Performative Acting does not need to be taking place in a protest. For Numbers Increase As We Count…, the protest-structure and the performative acting that took place in it are very tightly linked. In fact, any structure that is built for the Performative Acting aspect of a performance is directly responsible for the type of acting that will take place.

In its full version, the performance Numbers Increase As We Count… is built in three parts. The first part is interactive/participatory and revolves around “Reverse Verbatim”: I have the audience read some testimonials of mine in their mother tongue, while I simultaneously translate these words into my mother tongue, Turkish. Those texts highlight the reasons for doing this performance and give some background facts. I then invite audience members to follow me to the main stage—when such a division of space is possible in the venue—where the counting begins.

The second part is the performance proper. It involves: counting by the performers, or me alone in the solo versions; video projections; complex music and light installations; interviews with Yanar Mohammed, an activist working in women’s shelters in Iraq; and interactive sections with the audience members reading reports. At the end of this part, the other performers and myself leave the stage. The audience members follow and are brought to the video installation, which constitutes the third part of the performance: three screens next to each other, two showing the performances of nineteen women artists counting while practicing their art; and the one in the middle devoted to them talking about how it felt to count.

In different versions of the performance, I have integrated these three parts differently, but the main elements are always kept: having the audience read my texts, as well as the main task, counting. The archival material might be presented simultaneously with some of the other elements, treated as a background, or emphasized at different moments of the performance. In this paper, except when stated otherwise, I will refer to the full performance in three parts.

The rest of this paper is devoted to a reflection on three different aspects of my performance Numbers Increase As We Count…: the way I made the audience members participate in the performance through Reverse Verbatim, the dramaturgical reasons I have used (multiple) layering of video archives and the way I have included the participation of other women who have approached me after seeing a version of the performance.

Performance of *Numbers Increase As We Count…* in Cali, Colombia. Photo: John Edwar Camacho

Reverse Verbatim

Once we realize that what we have to study is not the sentence but the issuing of an utterance in a speech situation, there can hardly be any longer a possibility of not seeing that stating is performing an act.
Austin 138

In the first part of the performance, I have the audience make a circle. I come to them, one by one, and I ask them to use a microphone to read short texts that I wrote.

Performance of *Numbers Increase As We Count…* at the TRANSIT Festival, Odin Teatret, Denmark. Photo: Rina Skeel

These texts are my testimonials written in the main language(s) spoken in the place of performance, often the colonial one, for example: in Montreal, they had the choice between French and English; in Brazil, between Portuguese and English; in Colombia, Spanish. As they read, I translate these texts simultaneously into my own native language, Turkish—or, depending on one’s perspective, they are translating my words into their language. During the second part of the performance, I also have the audience use the microphone to read texts that detail facts and statistics regarding the violence perpetrated against the women who were and are being coerced into prostitution.

Performance of *Numbers Increase As We Count…* at MAI, Montreal. Photo: Cédric Laurenty

These are some examples of the texts that I give the audience in the first part of the performance, demonstrating what I mean by having the audience members read my (now “their”) testimonials, speak out about the reasons that I am (now “they are”) doing this performance:

Some texts/testimonials given to the audience members to be read through a microphone. Photo: Ülfet Sevdi

I end this part by saying to the audience: “It is very important for me to share the pain. To open the closed eyes for them to see; and to make the ears that do not hear, hear. The numbers are increasing at every moment. Numbers have never been just numbers for me. But it is so easy to talk this way and go on. This is not a performance. It is a protest.”

Having the audience members hearing themselves in speakers creates a very alienating effect: it is “my” voice (me, the audience member) that speaks the words of someone else (Ülfet Sevdi’s words), but I still hear myself—or a version of myself as an “other” (because the sound is carried through the speakers, from afar). And I am aware that other audience members are hearing me clearly. The weight and the urgency of what the “audience” says are thus emphasized and “amplified.” Through this technique, the performance becomes, at the same time “their” performance even as these are the words that I (Ülfet Sevdi) am presenting to explain the rationale for this performance- protest. But now, they are saying why they are doing this performance; they become part of the reasons for doing performance; they become instigators; they acquire agency; they became part of the protest.

This technique of having my words, these words, spoken by the audience, especially at the beginning of the performance, has specific dramaturgical intentions:

From the beginning, I invite them to take a place inside the protest. Even if the majority will witness the performance-protest as “normal” audience members, they will have been made into participants from the beginning. They will have been told the reasons why they and others are in the place of performance, protesting, counting the exponential numbers, numbers that are getting bigger as we gather together in the room. In a way, the readings act as a structure for their performance. Thus, this part is dramaturgically central to the performative acting that will take place later, both for the performers and the audience.

From the beginning, they also know about the situation, they learn a different perspective on the events that are taking place—a perspective different from the one they will generally hear in the mainstream media that tends to focus on a decontextualized so-called “Middle-East,” without mentioning the years-long invasion(s) and occupation(s) that set everything in motion, and that does not talk about the complicity of Western “democracies” and their roles in what is taking place. Having audience members say these words creates a sense of shock: hearing these words would have been already puzzling for those accustomed to mainstream media and their often-complicit point of view. But saying these words has a stronger effect on those who say them, as they are now in a position in which they have addressed and are addressing a message to the other participants, as well as to us, the facilitators of the event.

Use of reports about women trafficking, read by the audience members, in the performance of *Numbers Increase as We Count…* at the O’levante Festival, Brazil. Screenshot from a video

Finally, to inform from the beginning is a way to create an anti-cathartic effect for the rest of the performance. My goal is not to have audience members discover key pieces of information “as we go,” creating a dramaturgical crescendo. My goal is to explain what the situation is, to be transparent and to invite the audience members to follow me in the protest and take a place within it. Everything is clear from the beginning, and there will not and cannot be an ending to the performance (as much as we wish it would). As in many protests, words are often recited together in groups (for example, in the form of slogans and protest songs); these words have meanings that are very well-understood by the participants (if not, they would not be there). Having said these words “together,” the audience members can continue together into the remaining part of the performance-protest.

I call this technique “Reverse Verbatim” in analogy to the genre(s) and method(s) developed under the banner of “Verbatim Theatre.” Verbatim Theatre is, in brief, a genre of theatre and a method of theatre-making that takes as its textual material words that were said by “real” people and that have been recorded, written, documented and so on. Playwrights and/or directors assemble transcribed texts and, by dramaturgically putting these words together, produce a script. This script is then offered to actors and the rest is generally made as in “normal” theatre—although, as Cyrielle Garson’s great survey has shown, there are different ways in which artists have deployed this approach/method.

Numbers Increase As We Count… possesses many elements that can make it fall under the banner of Documentary Theatre for which Verbatim Theatre is in a way a subcategory (see Summerskill, Chapter 1), for example: the use of real interviews projected on screen, interviews with the performers, my testimonials and the explanation of my research questions. But the approach I have developed—and the reason for my calling it Reverse Verbatim—is the direction in which the words travel. By having my words—invented by me, as the project’s creator, director and facilitator of the project—spoken by the audience, I turn the definition of Verbatim performance on its head. Instead of having words that were said by “real” people spoken on stage by actors, instead “real” audience members speak words that I have, words written by myself, testimonials, confessions, academic texts and other archived materials that were not originally intended to be spoken on stage. This method brings the audience into greater proximity with the real intentions of the performance, asking them to participate in something that they will carry with them for the second and third part of the performance. This accomplishes one of the central effects of Verbatim Theatre, a genre that has attracted a lot of theatrical and critical attention, especially for the sense of proximity that it creates for the audience members with the real protagonists of the story being told.

At the same time, contrary to many verbatim productions, Reverse Verbatim permits me, as its creator, to give my perspective on the situation, including by offering a perspective not often heard in the mainstream media. “Normal” Verbatim Theatre, on the other hand, has tended to give an equal voice to the different voices found in the verbatim material collected, juxtaposing the voice of the Oppressed as well as the Oppressor’s and, thereby, offering a very liberal and postmodern lecture of the situations under discussion (see Claycomb for a thorough discussion along these lines; see also Sevdi and Royer-Artuso for a related discussion). This effect is something that I, as a Theatre of the Oppressed practitioner, cannot let happen in my work, especially not when the work is framed as a protest.

Layering

There is no archive without a place of consignation, without a technique of repetition, and without a certain exteriority. No archive without outside.
Derrida 12

I will now discuss a second technique I have applied in Numbers Increase As We Count…,which consists of the recursive as well as the exponential use of archives to build the structure of the performance. By recursive, I mean a kind of self-referentiality to process and procedure in artistic output. The artistic output (image, video, text) should point to the manner in which it has been created in order to create copies of itself. These copies are, simultaneously, different from the original. The simultaneous presentation of these different copies suggests a recursive procedure; furthermore, it gives the presentation a timeline that separates the different iterations of the same copy: an idea of the time it took to get from the original to the copies, and from these copies to their copies, and so on. By exponential here, I mean that the archives that are created through recursive procedures generate an infinite number of different material that is, at the same, time similar. This material can later be integrated into the structure of future versions of the performance. In fact, all material that engages with the project or its subject matter can find a way to enter its structure in subsequent versions of the work, including: the master thesis I wrote about the performance, new statistics, new videos of performers, conference papers given about my performance, new interviews, new personal testimonies and so on. These are all elements that can be superposed and layered onto the already existing (open) structure. Reverse Verbatim is also one of the methods through which I recursively present the process of building this archive within the performance itself.

There are mainly three types of archival material that I use in Numbers Increase As We Count…: testimonials about the reasons I do this performance and that audience members read aloud; archives of rehearsals and of performances in the form of video footages and recordings; and interviews and research I did to understand the situation. I will now focus on the ways that I have layered video archives in performance and on the dramaturgical reasons for doing so.

Use of archives of war in the performance of *Numbers Increase as We Count…* at the O’levante Festival, Brazil. Screenshot from a video

Use of interviews in the performance of *Numbers Increase as We Count…* at the MAI, Montreal. Photo: Cédric Laurenty

During the whole process leading to the performance, I have archived everything I have done in text, video and other recording formats. I have footage of the rehearsals/protests of counting, of different ideas that I tried and of discussions with other performers.

When I started the project, I had a central question that I needed to answer: how can I use a task as simple as counting as the basic idea upon which everything else in performance would be built and how could I use this simple task to work with the performers? There were many avenues that were worth exploring. Through a long process of experimentation, I came to the method of Performative Acting. The task to be given to the performers—that is, counting—was already clear to me from the beginning of the project: it was the trigger that brought and needed to bring everything else. What I needed to find was the structure in which the performative acting would take place.

This brought me to the second question: how can I use archives of the process of performance creation in order to show that the counting is infinite and, therefore, that each rehearsal and performance was itself both a protest and performance? In a sense, if each rehearsal/protest is given a number, then we are counting the number of times we have been counting and honouring these women. As such, the number of countings is itself countable, and this number increases as we count—another infinite process. This needed to be accounted for in the performance and the use of archives of our performance process felt like a dramaturgically meaningful way to fulfill this task.

Each time we have met, we have counted; we have honoured these women who have been sex-trafficked, we have protested this situation, we have talked about the tragedy. And it has affected our daily lives, not only inside the rehearsal rooms but outside of it, tainting our quotidian existence in a specific way. The separation of performance and “rehearsal” is nonexistent for this project: we are dealing with a situation that is ongoing while we perform, be it in the rehearsal room, in the performance venue, at a conference talk or even, as in the present case, in my room while writing these words. It is important to note that we always counted from one during rehearsal. Accordingly, we never went very far in the actual numbers that were spoken and certainly not when compared to the actual numbers of women who are being trafficked. The reason for this is that a person is not a number. The task is to count and, each time, we have to start anew, as in a ritual of mourning, of honouring. “1,” “2,” “3” are not associated with specific women: they are all the women as well as one woman. Since we’ll never get to the actual numbers, because of time limits but also, mainly, because the numbers are literally increasing as we count, it felt right to restart the whole process each time.

Using video archives helps show this repetitive quotidian of protesting that, at the same, time involves changing, becoming. Performative Acting is built on three verbs: “to Know,” “to Find” and “to Become.” Through the addition of as many different moments in time, we also get a sense of how this performance affects our lives, of the fact that we carry this work with us to such a point that it becomes difficult to see the line that exists between the protest and our lives.

One of the methods that I could have used was the simple projection of a linearly edited archival videos to act as the background of the performers counting on stage. This would have constituted a simple layering of the “then” and the “now” that would have shown the process of iteration, as well as the iterative timeframe; that is, the projection would, in a sense, say “it’s been a while that we’ve been protesting and, unfortunately, we still are, and we will probably continue to do so for a while into the future.” But using this method alone would mean losing some of the meanings that multiple layering brought.

Simple video layering in the performance of *Numbers Increase As We Count…* at MAI, Montreal. Photo: Cédric Laurenty

By “multiple layering,” I mean the use of different videos that are projected simultaneously onto the same screen. When we take the act of performers who are counting, and we layer their videos over time, we get a kaleidoscope effect: the same women are there though their clothes might be different, often using the same movements, embodying the same images. At the same time, they are saying different numbers.

Multiple video layering in the performance of *Numbers Increase As We Count…* at MAI, Montreal. Photo: Cédric Laurenty

Technically, there are many different ways to produce this layering effect, but in my work, I have used two: the projection of videos onto a screen that is already displaying some video content; and the layering of videos using by playing with the transparency function of editing software. Early on in the project, I used multiple projectors, but over time I preferred the video editing method.

Layering is tightly connected to considerations related to Performative Acting: the same numbers would come up on the screen as well as in the counting happening on stage. This would create dialogues between the video archives and the performers, as they would get surprised by an anticipated “46,” or an echo of an “89.” This reflects one of the central ideas of Performative Acting, which is to create this type of dialogue and the possibility of being affected by the structure of performance in the moment of its enactment. At the same time, by layering the videos, these dialogues would also take place between different iterations of performances, with the same as well as different numbers being said by many different “same” performers. This approach permits the creation of structures in which an exponential number of different women appear on screen, starting with the layering of two videos, adding a third one and so on. Thus, showing the physical bodies of an increasing number of women reminds the audience of the situation we protest.

Responses and Participation

Almost thirty women artists have participated so far in the performance. If we include the audience members who read my texts during the performances, that adds up to close to 250 performers. What started as a solo performance (given at the Revolution They Wrote Festival 2018, Montréal) became, with time, this full performance including these many other women, who count, perform and talk either on video or with me on stage.

After witnessing the performance, different women came to me to ask how they could become involved in the project. At that time, I was still trying to understand how I wanted this work to take shape. I was already experimenting with Itır Arditi and Burcu Emeç, who would, soon after, be performing with me on stage.

But having these women asking and really wanting to support the project, protesting with me, with us, forced me to think about a way to include them. These women were often from places under the rule of Western imperialism and all the “collateral” violence that comes with it. I could see that the project was not only addressing the so-called “Middle-East” (which I understood well as a result of being from there), but also any place in which imperialism/(neo)colonialism had a deep imprint on the history of its people and, especially, the women. I needed to make space for these different voices that had similar stories to share, which is what any protest organiser must do.

I invited them to perform the counting (to protest), using their art/talent, and I filmed them. Before that, I explained the situation and I provided some facts and statistics. I showed them pictures. I always tried to proceed with sensitivity, telling them they could always decide to stop or take a break. We then talked about the process, and about what they felt. I asked them simple and general questions: What do you feel? What are you feeling now? What was it like to count? I let them answer for themselves, without overly directing the discussion, so that one idea leads smoothly into another according to the performer’s own rhythm.

I use extracts of these performances, as well as from the speeches and conversations, in the different versions of the performance and talk-performance. This can be done in many different ways: as a video installation that is separate from the performance proper; inside the performance, as video archives projected on a different screen; or, inside the performance, layering these videos onto those with the main performers; or, by having their speeches heard during performance itself. In all cases, the result is that more and more women/protesters appear in the performance, increasing their number.

Video installation at the end of the performance of *Numbers Increase As We Count…* at MAI, Montreal. Photo: Cédric Laurenty

Numbers Increase As We Count… made me understand how a technique such as Performative Acting could be useful to create very deep performances in the moment of performance, while, at the same time, collecting and archiving very intimate monologues and dialogues. The collaborative aspect of this work—between myself who structures (facilitates) the protest and the artists/performers who give themselves fully to performance—is what makes this technique ideal for working with many different people in a very efficient way. I can go somewhere and work for a couple of days with performers, explain the structure and what I need and/or expect from them, and the performance can continue. Because of this, the performance can be as different as the artists themselves differ from each other; at the same time, we can consider this specific performance the “same” performance as the other ones.

Conclusion

Reverse Verbatim, Layering and Open participation all point to a common dramaturgical idea, one dealing with iteration and exponentiality. They are all connected to the idea of the increment, which is reflected in the performative act of counting. Audience members become participants by saying my words; anything connected to the performance becomes archive; any audience member can become performer, thus increasing the number of women, of protesters. All of these can be repeated and edited again, calling for openness of the structure. Unfortunately, it also shows how these tragedies are repeated, how one after the other countries of the Global South are invaded and destroyed, leaving the most vulnerable to become preyed upon in what is cynically called “collateral damage.”

NOTE: I want to thank, with all my heart, everyone who participated in this project in different ways over the years.

Bibliography

Austin, John L. How to Do Things with Words. Oxford UP, 1962.

Barnes, Alan. “Getting it Right: Canadian Intelligence Assessments on Iraq, 2002- 2003.” Intelligence and National Security, vol. 35, no. 7, 2020, pp. 925–53.

Candy, Linda. “Practice-Based Research: A Guide.” Creativity and Cognition Studios, CCS Report, vol. 1, November 2006.

Chapman, Owen, and Kim Sawchuk. “Research-Creation: Intervention, Analysis and ‘Family Resemblances.’” Canadian Journal of Communication, vol.37, no 1, April 2012, pp. 5–26.

Claycomb, Ryan. In the Lurch: Verbatim Theater and the Crisis of Democratic Deliberation. U of Michigan P, 2023.

Derrida, Jacques. Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression. U of Chicago P, 1996.

Engler, Yves. The Black Book of Canadian Foreign Policy. RED Publishing/Fernwood Publishing, 2009.

—. Canada and Israel: Building Apartheid. RED Publishing/Fernwood Publishing, 2010.

—. Lester Pearson’s Peacekeeping: The Truth May Hurt. Fernwood Publishing, 2012.

—. The Ugly Canadian: Stephen Harper’s Foreign Policy. Red Publishing, 2012.

—. Canada in Africa: 300 Years of Aid and Exploitation. RED Publishing/Fernwood Publishing, 2015.

—. Left, Right: Marching to the Beat of Imperial Canada. Black Rose Books, 2019.

—. House of Mirrors: Justin Trudeau’s Foreign Policy. RED Publishing/Black Rose Books, 2020.

Garson, Cyrielle. Beyond Documentary Realism: Aesthetic Transgressions in British Verbatim Theatre. De Gruyter, 2021.

Leavy, Patricia. Method Meets Art: Arts-based Research Practice. The Guilford Press, 2009.

Nelson, Robin, editor. Practice as Research in the Arts. Palgrave MacMillan, 2013.

Sevdi, Ülfet. Numbers Increase As We Count… a Practice-Led Research. Master Thesis, Concordia University, 2021.

Sevdi, Ülfet, and Nicolas Royer-Artuso. “The Politics of the Other in Canadian Performance/Theatre.” Interdisciplinary Perspectives on Equality and Diversity, vol. 6, no. 2, 2020.

Sayle, Timothy A. “But he has Nothing on at All!” Canada and the Iraq War, 2003.” Canadian Military History, vol. 19, no. 4, 2015, pp. 5–19.

Sontag, Susan. Regarding the Pain of Others. Picador, 2003.

Summerskill, Clare. Creating Verbatim Theatre from Oral Histories. Routledge, 2021.

*Ülfet Sevdi is a writer, theatre director, dramaturge, visual artist, and Theatre of the Oppressed practitioner based in Montreal, Canada. She graduated from the Department of Fine Arts and Theatre in 2001 (Türkiye), holds a Research and Creation Master in the INDI program (Concordia University), and is currently a PhD candidate in the same program. Her work deals with oral history and social narratives. Her approach is conceptual, experimental, and grounded in the critical social sciences. She was the co-founder and artistic director of nü.kolektif (2008-2014), an Istanbul-based collective of multidisciplinary artists, and of Thought Experiment Productions (2015–), Montreal. Her work has been presented in Austria, Brazil, Canada, Colombia, Denmark, Ireland, New Zealand, Türkiye, United States.