{"id":66,"date":"2026-03-02T18:47:38","date_gmt":"2026-03-02T18:47:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/?p=66"},"modified":"2026-06-26T10:29:20","modified_gmt":"2026-06-26T10:29:20","slug":"transhistorical-dialogues-recanonizing-shakespeare-on-the-contemporary-turkish-stage-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/transhistorical-dialogues-recanonizing-shakespeare-on-the-contemporary-turkish-stage-part-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Transhistorical Dialogues: Recanonizing Shakespeare on the Contemporary Turkish Stage \u2013 PART 2"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Burak Urucu<\/strong>*<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Turkish theatre has a deeply rooted tradition in oral and performative narrative forms such as ortaoyunu, Karag\u00f6z<\/font> shadow puppet theatre, and meddah, all of which are integral to the country\u2019s cultural heritage. This study examines how these traditions are interwoven into five recent Shakespearean adaptations produced by independent theatre companies in Istanbul. By closely analyzing these selected adaptations, the study conceptualizes the mechanics of their rewriting processes, shaped by metatheatricality, recanonization, and repertoire. With its comparative framework encompassing multilayered rewriting strategies and traditional aesthetics, the study aims to stimulate broader discussions on temporality, cultural memory, and transhistorical performance studies. The first part of the article<\/a>, published in Critical Stages<\/font>, no. 32 (December 2025), introduces the Adaptive Stage Matrix (ASM) and analyzes Baba Sahne\u2019s Bir Baba Hamlet<\/font> (A Father Hamlet, 2017) and \u00d6teki Tiyatro and Hayali Tasvir\u2019s Venedikli Tacir<\/font> (The Merchant of Venice, 2024) through this framework. The second part applies the ASM to Moda Sahnesi\u2019s Othello<\/font> (2024), Nos Tiyatro\u2019s Verona \u00c7\u0131kmaz\u0131<\/font> (Verona Impasse, 2024), and Yu Studio\u2019s Othello! Seyircili \u0130ntikam Provas\u0131<\/font> (Othello! A Revenge Rehearsal with the Audience, 2023) and includes the complete bibliography for both parts.

Keywords:<\/strong> Shakespeare, adaptations, Turkish theatre, transhistorical stage, recanonization, metatheatricality, cultural repertoire<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CASE STUDY 3: Meddah<\/em> Revitalized: Performing the Contemporary Through Traditional Storytelling in Othello<\/em><\/strong>[1]<\/sup><\/a><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Founded in 2013 by a group of theatre professionals in Istanbul, Moda Sahnesi (the production company and the venue) has become an influential center for theatre since its establishment. Othello<\/em> is the company\u2019s sixth Shakespeare adaptation, including Hamlet<\/em> (2013), A Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream<\/em> (2015), The Tempest<\/em> (2017), The Taming of the Shrew<\/em> (2022), and Macbeth<\/em> (2025). Director and co-founder Kemal Aydo\u011fan is known for his radical twists on Shakespearean plotlines, filtered through local contexts and sociopolitical urgencies of contemporary T\u00fcrkiye. The performance space is designed for maximum audience immersion, emotional engagement, and responsiveness, featuring a flexible, modular layout that challenges traditional theatrical space norms and aligns with Aydo\u011fan\u2019s publicly stated vision of creating a theatre for political and social commentary purposes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The production employs rewriting strategies that underline the connection between Shakespearean drama and Turkish cultural idioms, and the pre-show foyer performance catches attention immediately. As the audience enters the venue and walks down the stairs to reach the main performance hall, the corridors are filled with the joyful tunes of maqam-based[2]<\/sup><\/a> Turkish art music. In the foyer, the singer is revealed as Y\u0131lmaz S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc, who also performs multiple characters in the play. The atmosphere transforms into a lively music hall, where he greets the audience with Turkish music[3]<\/sup><\/a> that features themes of jealousy, love, and betrayal. One of the songs has the lyrics: \u201cFor days, was the love between us just a lie? \/ Please close the curtains; this comedy is now over!,\u201d[4]<\/sup><\/a> which directly alludes to the Karag\u00f6z tradition, and another one went on: \u201cI envy it if a strand of your hair touches your face. I envy your tongue if you utter a word to someone else. \/ Oh, God! What kind of love is this? I will die from its torment\u201d (Aydo\u011fan).[5]<\/sup><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This pre-show performance serves a dual purpose within the context of adaptation, emphasizing locality and presentness, as a metatheatrical tool shown above in the ASM. First, it aims to anchor Othello<\/em> within a distinct Turkish cultural context, using musical chords to connect Othello\u2019s destructive jealousy with Turkish cultural idioms. Second, it seeks to evoke a sense of familiarity and nostalgia among the audience through songs shared at family gatherings, on the radio, and in emotional moments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This point is further elaborated by Aydo\u011fan, who, in an interview, discusses the challenges of localizing and creating a suitable theatrical environment for plays rooted in the Western dramatic tradition. He remarks that Othello<\/em> finetunes its dramaturgical touches to ensure a temporal collision of the audience\u2019s present and Shakespeare\u2019s own moment (K\u0131raathane \u0130stanbul Edebiyat Evi). Hence, incorporating local filters (in this case, songs) is a key strategy employed in this adaptation to make the narrative accessible and engaging for the audience. S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc\u2019s function as the narrator ensures this seamless transition. Onur \u00dcnsal, a Turkish actor and one of the twelve founding partners of Moda Sahnesi, views it as a dramaturgical responsibility to enable the audience to find satisfaction in making sense of a Shakespearean play. Starting with the foyer show, these adaptive strategies engage the audience as active participants in the performance, setting the tone for a localized, immersive reinterpretation of a Shakespearean narrative. Meanwhile, the performance space effectively maintains a historical aesthetic, with unfinished Elizabethan-era garments displayed on either side of the stage, along with the masts of galleys and ropes hanging above the backdrop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc, who created the lively pre-show atmosphere in the foyer, now takes the stage as the play begins, greets the audience, and welcomes them to the performance. This subverts the conventional Shakespearean opening on a Venetian Street at night, where Iago and Roderigo fabricate Desdemona\u2019s secret marriage to Othello, thereby setting the scene for immediate deception, hatred, and alarm. Like ortaoyunu<\/em> and Karag\u00f6z practices, which share a similar structured routine for delivery (prologue-dialogue-the main plot-epilogue), meddah<\/em> performances also feature defined sections, and here S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc\u2019s performance fits well with them. Evoking a meddah<\/em>, he passionately narrates the social and historical background of the Mediterranean setting, touches upon the Ottoman-Venetian war,[6]<\/sup><\/a> the geographical location of Maghrib, and discusses Eurocentrism, the Renaissance, Florence, and Machiavelli with the audience. He recounts the Shakespearean plot, discussing how the love between Othello and Desdemona blossomed, how Cassio earned his promotion, and how Roderigo desperately desires to see Desdemona, with the flair of a tall tale \u2013 all in a playful, gossipy tone as if chatting with a close friend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As Shakespearean language and context may become challenging for both Anglophone and non-Anglophone audiences, S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc’s strong connection with the audience gives him a commanding metatheatrical presence on stage, which reassures the smooth reception of the Renaissance dynamics interwoven into the narrative. His remarks often include satirical references to local politics and events that can only be recognized within the Turkish context. He passionately reminds us that nearly 5 billion people have lost their lives in wars throughout history, exclaiming, \u201cNo more wars!\u201d, then playfully suggests that a trustee[7]<\/sup><\/a> could be appointed to manage the theatre at any moment, referencing the current political events making local headlines as this essay is being written.[8]<\/sup><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aydo\u011fan\u2019s Othello<\/em> remains loyal to the Shakespearean plot, albeit with the exception of certain scenes that introduce non-canonical improvisations and metatheatrical interventions aimed at enhancing contextual relevance and creating an immersive experience. The scene where Iago shaves Othello\u2019s beard adds a clever twist to Shakespeare\u2019s play by using a barbershop setting as a place of political and psychological manipulation. The beard-shaving ritual makes Othello vulnerable, especially with a towel wrapped around his neck, giving Iago a strategic advantage to plant his schemes of jealousy. Barbershops, particularly in Mediterranean and Middle Eastern countries, are social spaces where men engage in daily conversation, share local gossip, and exchange personal anecdotes. As Iago sharpens his blade and prepares to shave Othello, he simultaneously hones his manipulative tactics. In this scene, Iago plants a seed of doubt in Othello’s mind by suggesting that Cassio is interested in Desdemona. Iago\u2019s manipulations, cloaked by his cunning rhetoric, soft tone of voice, and restrained body language, gradually drive Othello towards a psychological conundrum where he barely controls his composure (Fig. 1<\/strong>). The barbershop scene serves as an adaptive device that filters tactical manipulation through a local repertoire enabled by homosocial etiquette and ritual shaving practice. <\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Fig. 1.<\/strong> Production image from Othello (2024) showing Caner Cindoruk (left) as Othello and Ahmed Saka (right) as Iago. Photo: Courtesy of Moda Sahnesi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

One of the layered dramaturgies employed in the adaptation is Othello\u2019s transformation at Iago’s hands, unfolding over a sequence of scenes in the second part of the play. We see Othello evolve from a wild, impassioned, and uproarious general, who once even almost choked Iago to death in a fit of rage, into a subdued figure who eventually rests his head on Iago\u2019s shoulder, only to be comforted by him. Sedgwick notes that \u201c\u2026in any erotic rivalry, the bond that links the two rivals is as intense and potent as the bond that links either of the rivals to the beloved\u201d (Sedgwick 21). Grounded in the Desdemona triangle, the rivalry generates a homosocial intimacy in the adaptation\u2019s barbershop scene. Building on Sedgwick\u2019s argument, Matz explores the homoerotic charge of the play and argues that \u201cIago marries Othello. Desdemona assumes Cassio’s privileged access to Othello, while Iago assumes Desdemona’s\u201d (Matz 265). Hence, the homosocial codes of gentle touch and talk performed at the barber shop unveil a particular sense of intimacy between Iago and Othello. The scene triggers a series of transformative impacts, challenging the hierarchical power dynamics between the duo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In addition to acting as the meddah-<\/em>like narrator and messenger, S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc also undertakes the roles of Lodovico, Montano, and Bianca, the courtesan in Shakespeare\u2019s original (Fig. 2<\/strong>). The reimagined version of Bianca offers an innovative twist on the Shakespearean context through the use of Cypriot Turkish accent, providing comic relief while challenging conventional gender roles and power dynamics. The scene could be argued to rely on homophobia and transphobia for sustained audience engagement and even to re-establish male dominance on stage with Bianca\u2019s gendered, raw vulgarity in S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc\u2019s interpretation of the character. However, the portrayal of this norm-defying courtesan challenging Othello\u2019s authority and making fun of Cassio\u2019s military prowess is worth mentioning as a temporary subversion and reprimand of authority. When he storms onto the stage as Bianca, wearing her deep-slit, colorful beach pareo, a bikini top, flip-flops, and a stylish red wig, a roar of laughter fills the performance space. On top of that, she speaks a peculiar Turkish Cypriot accent and takes on playfully hilarious gestures, manipulating Cassio. She pinches Cassio\u2019s cheek and all over his body, and slams him against the wall, asking for a night out. When Cassio mentions Othello, she castigates him, saying, \u201cDamn on your commander.\u201d The boldly daring and straightforward portrayal of Bianca subverts the muted Shakespearean character, highlighting an empowered agency. However, the comic undertone persists through feminized masculinity, which ultimately appears more as a transphobic reaction to gender norms than as a response to the norm-challenging act of the courtesan, thereby reinforcing heteronormative and patriarchal standards.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Fig. 2.<\/strong> Production image from Othello (2024) showing Y\u0131lmaz S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc (left) as Montano and Caner Cindoruk (far right) as Othello. Photo: Courtesy of Moda Sahnesi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Perhaps one of the most climactic scenes emerges at the end of the play, following Othello\u2019s strangling of Desdemona. Consumed by jealousy, Othello begins to smash the black boxes that make a wall at the far stage, accompanied by his stormy, nerve-wracking yells and tense music. The ritual is completed when Othello finally approaches the seated Desdemona from behind, grips her neck with both hands, and chokes her. Her stillness and passivity are less about weakness and more about her structural entrapment within patriarchal protocols, which lead to lethal immobilization. When both bodies collapse on the ground, S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc reappears on stage and slowly walks to the center from the right corner. He is half-naked, with only a white cloth wrapped around his waist. He looks directly at the audience and asks with an eerily solemn tone of voice: \u201cThe comedy is over. Well, did we have fun?\u201d(Aydo\u011fan). The air grows even gloomier when he quotes the lines from the Turkish translation of Walter Benjamin\u2019s famous essay \u201cOn the Concept of History\u201d in which Benjamin introduces the concept of the Angel of History,<\/em> inspired by Paul Klee\u2019s painting Angelus Novus<\/em>. According to Benjamin, the painting depicts a haunting angel with fearful eyes, a dreadfully open mouth, and outstretched wings that metaphorically stick between the past and present. This image inspires Benjamin to envision a pessimistic future amidst the opposing forces of progress and catastrophe. The production utilizes this Benjaminian critique of masculine progress, questioning how its aesthetic portrayal justifies femicide, political surveillance, and corruption. Ultimately, S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc concludes his statement by quoting the Turkish translation of Iago’s final words from the original script: \u201cI bleed, sir, but am not killed,\u201d signaling the unsettling persistence of gendered violence and manipulation in today\u2019s world. By reimagining Shakespearean tragedy within a culturally transformed context, the adaptation not only reflects directorial choices but also encourages the audience to confront and reflect upon issues of power, violence, and manipulation from a contemporary perspective.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CASE STUDY 4: Rewriting Romeo and Juliet<\/em> through Turkish Pop Music in Verona Impasse<\/em><\/strong>[9]<\/sup><\/a><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Romeo and Juliet<\/em> inspires many Turkish theatre makers to integrate music into their adaptations and rewrites.[10]<\/sup><\/a> \u201cIt is a perfect operatic subject,\u201d as it is \u201csoaringly passionate and exquisitely heartbreaking\u201d (Shilvock). This creates chances for directors to enhance the mood, intensify conflicts, and translate them into a diverse array of vocal performances. This perspective is further elaborated in Julie Sanders\u2019 Shakespeare and Music<\/em>, where Sanders explores the cultural longevity of the play as a symbol of romantic love in popular music. Referencing Stephen Buhler\u2019s analysis, she argues that the play has become an archetypal piece in linking Shakespeare to love stories and permeated twentieth-century music (Sanders 138). It comes as no surprise to the audience that there are more modern adaptations of Romeo and Juliet<\/em> incorporating music as an essential component in reimagining the play.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Verona \u00c7\u0131kmaz\u0131<\/em> (Verona Impasse<\/em> 2024) is one of the latest adaptations of Romeo and Juliet<\/em> on the Turkish stage. The ensemble-driven adaptation is produced by Nos Tiyatro in Istanbul. It reimagines the Shakespearean narrative in a contemporary urban setting, revitalized by 1990s Turkish pop music. The integration of music that features repertoire and affective load for local audiences becomes a key rewriting strategy within the process of recanonization<\/em> (Ergil). It features a cast of five actors: Esra Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil as Juliet, Tu\u011f\u00e7e \u00d6zl\u00fc \u015eent\u00fcrk as Rosaline, Ozan Varol as both Romeo and Lord Capulet, Melih Tuma as Paris and Tybalt, and, as a versatile narrator, Adem Y\u0131lmaz takes on the roles of the narrator, Friar Laurence, and several other characters invented within the director’s adaptive universe. The incorporation of pop songs from the 1980s to the 2000s, a period marked by significant transformative changes, both in T\u00fcrkiye and around the world, anchors the play in a culturally resonant landscape. During this period, \u201cT\u00fcrkiye witnessed the rediscovery of various pasts to construct new identities [. . .] in parallel with a huge sociological transformation\u201d(\u00c7ola 594). \u201cThe country was rapidly transformed into a consumer society, a society of images, a society of desire\u201d(G\u00fcrbilek 5).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The stage design prominently features Christian and Western dramatic motifs, particularly with a cross figure positioned at the center of the stage on an elevated upstage platform, decorated with lattice-like arched panels. On either side of the platform, staircases provide access to the top, where a terrace resembling a stylized church fa\u00e7ade is situated. This visual presentation of the stage anchors the narrative in a symbolic landscape of the Veronese ecclesiastical aesthetic, which alludes to the original Shakespearean setting.[11]<\/sup><\/a> As the lights fade, the spotlights illuminate the cross figure, and three performers who serve as the chorus of the original script, enter the stage attired in monastic-style black robes and masks. One of them recounts the Turkish translation of the initial lines of the chorus. To the surprise of the audience, the quasi-gothic ambiance is accompanied by the tunes of \u201cAyn\u0131 Nakarat\u201d<\/em> (The Same Chorus<\/em>), a 1991 pop song by Turkish singer Nazan \u00d6ncel. The lyrics go: \u201cSame old chorus \/ Always the same, the same \/ Half of its stale\u201d (Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil). This contrast gives the audience an initial impression that the play will not be a conventional, repetitive, or clich\u00e9 adaptation of the original text, but rather a locally reframed version. The immediate cultural anchoring with familiar music and comedic setup establishes an affective connection with the audience and subverts the protocols of Shakespearean tragedy. It is striking to note that when translated as “chorus,” the Turkish word “nakarat<\/em>” establishes a linguistic resonance with the narrative device of foreshadowing embedded in Romeo and Juliet<\/em>. Therefore, the sarcastic tone of this song is arguably a deliberate choice to highlight the enduring relevance of tragic love stories and how they can be undermined by the shifting social norms of contemporary culture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Y\u0131lmaz ironically questions why legendary love stories consistently follow the same pattern of pain, chaos, tragedy, and downfall, and reveals that he is the narrator of the play and expresses regret, stating that he believes he deserves the lead role instead because he will work hard throughout the performance to keep the plotline on track. Y\u0131lmaz\u2019s function here evokes another portrayal of the integration of meddah<\/em> performance. He frequently breaks the fourth wall, interacts with the audience, and engages in playful dialogues, which demonstrate that his stage presence is constructed as a metatheatrical device\u2014one that is very familiar to the audiences. Soon, it is understood that one of the main innovations in this adaptation is the portrayal of Rosaline, an off-stage character in the original script who is only mentioned in Act I regarding her rejection of Romeo’s advances.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The production transforms Rosaline into a fully embodied, vocal character with narrative agency, ready to change the centuries-old Shakespearean plot and attempt to modify its tragic course. Unlike the source script, Romeo is struck by Rosaline at first sight on the street. Romeo pursues Rosaline in various urban settings, including the metro, gym, cinema, and on a train ride, but each time he is rejected. The fast-paced scenes are accompanied by songs that resonate with the narrative. For instance, when Rosaline sings \u201cOlmaz O\u011flan\u201d (\u201cNo-Good Boy\u201d) from the early 2000s girl band Hepsi<\/em>, her body language communicates disinterest to Romeo: \u201cDon\u2019t even look at me, boy\u2014it is not happening. \/ Go roll yourself toward someone else.\u201d However, Romeo is persistent in winning her hand and sings back with Mansur Ark\u2019s song \u201cMaalesef\u201d (\u201cUnfortunately\u201d), which goes: \u201cDon\u2019t be stubborn, come closer to me\u201d (Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil). This addition to Shakespeare\u2019s original retains audience engagement at its peak with playful jokes, parodies, and surprises, akin to what an ortaoyunu<\/em> performance was expected to do in Ottoman times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As Romeo is infatuated with Rosaline, the plot must be adjusted to redirect his attention back to Juliet, and this can only be carried out by the omniscient narrator on stage. A Rosaline-Romeo love must not be allowed, so the narrator tries every absurd scenario to put the plot back on track. For instance, during the famous party scene at the Capulet house, Y\u0131lmaz, as the meddah<\/em>-like narrator, appears as a flamboyant Capulet party guest,wearing a pink ball gown adorned with faux fur and a headpiece featuring bunny ears illuminated by colorful LED lights. Absurdly, the narrator’s playful and passionate image captivates Lord Capulet, who becomes infatuated with her (Fig. 3<\/strong>). Finally, the narrator succeeds in steering their attention towards each other as Romeo and Juliet are struck by Cupid\u2019s arrow and the plot is realigned, at least for now, with its Shakespearean course.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Fig. 3.<\/strong> Lord Capulet (left) is approached by Y\u0131lmaz as narrator (right) at the Capulets\u2019 party while Juliet and Rosaline watch them (far right). Photo: Verona \u00c7\u0131kmaz\u0131\u2019s Instagram account<\/a><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The first part of the show concludes with the famous balcony scene, marked by a heightened, joyful tempo, during which the narrator performs a playful dance to celebrate the plot\u2019s being back on track. As they break into the energetic 1994 Turkish pop song, \u201cBand\u0131ra Band\u0131ra,\u201d known for its bold, flirtatious lyrics and catchy dance beats, Y\u0131lmaz\u2019s provocative dance show sent the audience into a roar of laughter while Romeo and Juliet enacted their first spark of love beneath a glowing cross. This absurd landscape where Verona\u2019s solemn imagery and youthful passion collide with playful Turkish beats, the characters joyfully immerse themselves in Evcimik\u2019s song before the lights fade off: \u201c<\/strong>Dip me, dip me with desire \/ You\u2019ll never get enough of my passion\/ I\u2019ve got all the tricks up my sleeve \/ It\u2019s time you noticed my worth\u201d(Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The second part begins with the church scene, where the narrator has secretly arranged a meeting for Rosaline and Paris, the couple he wants to unite. Now disguised as a nun, he humorously introduces himself as Mother Teresa and begins to manipulate Rosaline\u2019s chances of loving Paris (Fig. 4<\/strong>). As events unfold quickly, more Turkish pop songs accompany Rosaline and Juliet as they bicker about Romeo’s shifting interests amidst the dense, mournful atmosphere following Tybalt’s death. The narrator makes every effort to maintain the Shakespearean myth and rejects any accidents that might result in an unpredictable outcome, such as an unexpected marriage. Ultimately, he successfully reunites Romeo and Juliet and creates a unique, non-Shakespearean marriage between Paris and Rosaline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The surprise of the performance lies in its rejection of the canonical ending, resulting in the title characters\u2019 survival. This twist not only undermines the dramatic expectations but also resonates with the production\u2019s satirical style, where conventions are challenged, and fatal destiny is ridiculed. As the narrator confesses that his story now ends as planned, all the actors gather on stage in an ensemble moment to sing Kahpe Kader<\/em> (Treacherous Fate)<\/em>, a once-hit, melancholic yet defiant song by Turkish pop music icon Sezen Aksu – a musical piece so culturally resonant that it was once reinterpreted by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (Most Production 2016). The lyrics reverberate through the scene\u2019s flamboyant ambiance, which localizes the tragic tone of the original Shakespearean ending into a culturally shaped, humorous rewriting: \u201cOh treacherous fate! Have you spun your cruel web again? There is still no word from my beloved. Are you still mine, or already dead?\u201d (Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil).<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Fig. 4.<\/strong> Y\u0131lmaz as Mother Teresa (left) and Rosaline (right) in the church match-making scene. Photo: Verona \u00c7\u0131kmaz\u0131\u2019s<\/em> Instagram account<\/a><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Verona \u00c7\u0131kmaz\u0131<\/em> reflects the cultural shift of the 1990s by bridging the gap between the canonical narratives and the sensibilities of a society where aesthetic expectations are constantly reshaped through nostalgia, popular culture, and performative experimentation. Thus, this adaptation transcends a simple Shakespearean reinterpretation; it also embodies a daring metatheatrical experiment, ensuring that the Bard’s narrative can be recanonized through innovative directorial choices and dramaturgical inventions that resonate with contemporary Turkish audiences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CASE STUDY 5: Gendered Temporalities of Rewriting Othello<\/em> Through Feminist Spatiotemporal Juxtapositions<\/strong>[12]<\/sup><\/a><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

T\u00fcrkiye\u2019s record of intimate partner violence against women is significantly above the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD)[13]<\/sup><\/a> averages; it has become a much more visible socio-political problem in the country thanks to the labour of feminist and other organizations since late 1980s. WHO data indicate that \u201c38% of women in T\u00fcrkiye are subject to violence from a partner in their lifetime, compared to about 25% in Europe\u201d(Butler et al.). Another study notes that \u201cone out of every three women in Turkey has been physically abused by her husband\u201d(Alt\u0131nay and Arat 64). Although statistics related to gendered violence indicate a spike, and physical and sexual abuse are widespread in the country, quantitative sources remain inaccurate because \u201cmost women do not disclose their abuse\u201d publicly. This is largely due to social norms that regard gendered violence \u201cas a private family matter in T\u00fcrkiye\u201d (Y\u00fcksel-Kaptano\u011flu et al. 2764).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Indeed, T\u00fcrkiye\u2019s withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention in 2021[14]<\/sup><\/a> has also \u201cemboldened perpetrators and increased women\u2019s risk of violence,\u201d leaving women even more vulnerable in this already frail picture (OHCHR, 2022). Amid all this precarity, \u201cwomen consider the government, local administrations, state institutions, the law, and the courts bearers of significant responsibility in intervening and putting a stop to such violence\u201d (Alt\u0131nay and Arat 62).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While T\u00fcrkiye has an established legal framework to protect women and families, continued attention to inter-institutional coordination and more consistent public responsiveness could further realize its full potential and strengthen its effectiveness. There have been serious efforts to contain violence and offer state protection for women through KADES (Women Emergency Support Application), a mobile service application to provide immediate access to law enforcement units in case of violence or threat. However, daily news reports continue to show women being murdered, beaten, and raped, highlighting the persistence of this very disturbing phenomenon in the country. In addition to records of violence, gender disparity threatens women\u2019s equal representation in the country. T\u00fcrkiye ranks 135th out of 148 countries in the Global Gender Gap Report, according to the UN, highlighting the ongoing precarity of gender representation in practice (World Economic Forum 13).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In a country where the vulnerable status of women under patriarchal pressures needs constant and urgent attention, Shakespeare\u2019s canonical authority once again proves to be an effective means of confronting, challenging, and deconstructing entrenched social issues and stereotypical conventions. As G\u00fcnekan puts it, Shakespeare\u2019s plays provide<\/p>\n\n\n\n

a common ground for addressing certain fundamental cultural and political transformations in modern Turkey, and adapting Shakespeare to the local context is often accompanied by a politically resistant desire to revisit the issues of ethnic difference and political otherness. (1)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Among the Shakespearean canon, Othello<\/em> stands out for its representation of uncontrolled male jealousy that culminates in the tragic death of an innocent woman.[15]<\/sup><\/a> Othello! A Revenge Rehearsal with the Audience<\/em> is one of the latest experimental plays that grapple with presenting a new perspective on violence against women by blending Shakespearean narratives with the local theatrical repertoire of meddah<\/em>, Karag\u00f6z, and ortaoyunu<\/em>. As a theatre Professor with expertise in theatre theory, playwright Beliz G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez is distinguished by her erudition in exploring untapped representations on stage. This perspective certainly adds a new dimension to the play\u2019s search for innovative ways to represent gender and politics on stage. Deniz Ba\u015far discusses how G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez develops her play around a specific deconstructive lens to encourage paradigm shifts:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2026 this play in particular can be seen as a feminist practice-as-research project that challenges both the normative ways of adapting only Shakespeare\u2019s comedies through traditional performance modalities into narrative plays; but also intervening with the established contemporary forms of narrative theatre in Turkey by putting two women performers center stage as their bodily presence question the inherent gender bias of the form. (\u201cHow to Subvert a Patriarchal Tradition\u201d 7)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The play is distinctive in its delivery style. The foyer music entertains the audience with the lively tunes of Ankara Havas\u0131 (Ankara Tune)<\/em>, a vibrant folk-dance rhythm that radiates raw, unrefined energy characteristic of working-class life. Named after T\u00fcrkiye\u2019s capital, Ankara, this type of music is \u201csignificantly influenced by Central Anatolian culture\u201d and is based on Ankara\u2019s local repertoire, cultural heritage, and identity (Sat\u0131r 213). This genre is commonly featured on the playlists of distinctly Turkish nightclubs, known as pavyon<\/em>s, where women of various ages dance, sing, and entertain male guests. \u201cWomen are at least as influential as music in attracting customers\u201d in a pavyon<\/em> setting (Sat\u0131r 234). This music has become incredibly popular across T\u00fcrkiye, to the point where it has become a significant part of wedding celebrations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the play begins, two female actors dressed entirely in white step onto the stage framed by vertical white pieces of fabric that create a minimalist yet dreamlike scenography. The veils serve as a versatile dramaturgical layer as the events unfold in the play. It soon becomes clear that two actors are rehearsing for a low-budget production of Othello<\/em>.[16]<\/sup><\/a> The actors begin by narrating the background of the play, detailing the characters, plot, and initial conflicts. Suddenly, unidentified voices are heard from inside, interrupting the rehearsal. The actors requested that the lights be turned on due to an emergency in the neighboring pavyon<\/em> where a young girl named Elvan is harshly beaten. From that moment on, the audience is presented with two coexisting narratives: the Shakespearean plot and the one unfolding in the chaotic urban setting of contemporary T\u00fcrkiye. Through flashforwards and flashbacks, the play shifts between the two distinct landscapes. The actors\u2019 mention of domestic violence reflects local news stories that highlight urgent social issues in T\u00fcrkiye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Beliz G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez’s script often surprises the audience, who expect a standard adaptation of Othello<\/em> by directly referring to the fact that \u201c[w]omen are exposed to violence in hospital rooms, on the street, at bus stops, in restaurants- everywhere, through acts as brutal as burning, stabbing, dismembering, and acid pouring\u201d(\u00dcnsal). What makes this play unique is its delivery of simultaneous, interwoven narratives on the stage with actors transitioning fluidly between roles and scripts. For example, in the Venetian storyline, Iago tries to manipulate Othello through clever wordplay. This narrative is mirrored in a patriarchal Turkish setting, where \u0130lyas, a janitor, also tries to deceive Mahmut, the owner of the pavyon <\/em>where Elvan, a young, fragile girl who has left her hometown, is working in almost as a hostage. Ilyas is seeking revenge on Mahmut because he was beaten harshly by him and had his money usurped after failing to pay his debt following one of his overnight stays at the latter\u2019s place. Also, Mahmut chooses R\u0131za over Ilyas as his worker at the pavyon<\/em>. As the seeds of revenge are planted, Ilyas \u2013 echoing Iago\u2019s manipulations on Othello \u2014 seduces Mahmut by suggesting R\u0131za\u2019s interest in Elvan, who also asks Mahmut to persuade R\u0131za to rejoin the business at pavyon<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The palimpsestic scenes of the simultaneous unfolding of the tragic fates of two women are carried out through instant role shifts between actors who seamlessly adjust their voices and postures to incarnate the intended characters. When Elvan confesses that she has lost the bracelet given by Mahmut, the tragic fate of Desdemona is paralleled by her in T\u00fcrkiye, where the infamous object of jealousy\u2014the handkerchief\u2014transforms into a necklace. Also, when the actors halt their rehearsal and engage in a heated argument over the difficulties of performing Othello<\/em> with two actors, they blame each other for insisting on being involved in such a challenging task. These scenes, along with Hacer\u2019s (Ilyas\u2019s wife), whose unpolished, ordinary jokes try to spark shallow conversations, weave metatheatrical layers into dramaturgy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The evolving dialogue in Shakespearean Venice and contemporary T\u00fcrkiye is intricately intertwined, creating a complex narrative where, in the climactic scenes, Othello and \u0130lyas, as well as Iago and Mahmut, find themselves reacting to one another’s storylines as actors simultaneously embody multiple roles. In the meddah<\/em> tradition, the single storyteller switches between multiple roles through quick changes in voice, idiom, and expression stance, and this structure works like a contemporary meddah<\/em> show in the play. \u0130lyas and Iago navigate the symbolism of the handkerchief (transformed into a necklace in the contemporary storyline) within the context of their violent patriarchs, leaving the audience in a state of tension between the two overlapping narratives (Fig. 5<\/strong>). This restructuring, where two women actors perform all other characters, including men, throughout the play, creates a unique layer of feminist recanonization. It transcends the typical codes of easy laughter driven by conventional male-to-female crossdressing and pioneers a distinctive feminist comedy that questions patriarchy through female-to-male personification, a rare approach among the other plays explored in this study.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Fig. 5.<\/strong> Production image from Othello! (2023) showing Meltem Erkurtulgu (left) as Mahmut and \u0130pek Sar\u0131lar (right) as \u0130lyas. Photo: Courtesy of YuStudio<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

It is also a striking experience to hear Elvan\u2019s Turkish folk song Zeynebim<\/em> alongside Desdemona\u2019s Willow Song<\/em>, which signifies a profound contrast between two impending deaths: one rooted in local lament, the other in tragic canon. The inclusion of the Turkish folk song is part of the play\u2019s recanonization process, which facilitates the blending of Western and non-Western traditions and creates a mediation that \u201cescapes… the hierarchical and asymmetrical relation between these canons\u201d (Ergil 25). As the events unfold towards the climax, the white vertical veils hanging from the ceiling to the floor at the upstage are tied together on either side. This arrangement reflects the cross-cultural transition between Venetian and Turkish influences, resulting in an increasing number of knots as the story draws to a close.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez\u2019s powerful depiction of unchecked jealousy and its destructive consequences victimizes both Desdemona in Venice and Elvan in contemporary T\u00fcrkiye. Her vivid anatomical metaphor illustrates how jealousy infiltrates not only the mind but also invades the entire body, ultimately turning men into murderers:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The poison entered the body through the outer ear. Sound waves caused the eardrum and the three tiny bones in the inner ear\u2014the hammer, anvil, and stapes\u2014to vibrate. These vibrations activated the fluid in the inner ear. However, the effect did not stop there. Whenever he walked and felt his heart swell with love for Desdemona, the poison surged through his body, pumped by his heart each time his feelings grew stronger. (G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The final scene depicts the tragic demise of two innocent women, situated in spatiotemporally distinct realities. As Othello enters his bedroom and finds Desdemona sleeping, the audience is left with no doubt that Mahmut is also sneaking into his pavyon<\/em> to see Elvan. Consumed by hatred and driven by unchecked jealousy, Othello grasps Desdemona’s throat with both hands. At the same time, Mahmut is strangling Elvan. The music blends a violin and organ tunes with the Turkish folk instrument saz<\/em>, creating a tense atmosphere filled with grudge and violence. Othello prepares to smother Desdemona in her bedroom, which is also portrayed as Mahmut\u2019s place, where Elvan waits to be murdered. Two overlapping scenes are seamlessly created through sudden role switches that both actors smoothly click in and out of, primarily by changing idioms and associated vocal effects (The way the two women speak to their male murderers is a genuine linguistic code switch: Desdemona\u2019s \u201cMy Lord\u201d for Othello becomes Elvan\u2019s abi<\/em> (a familiar, respectful address to an older man), conveying vernacular masculinity. As the white linens all turn red with spotlights on them, the sheer tense music leaves Desdemona and Elvan\u2019s helpless bodies \u2013 performed by the singular body of the same actress – lifeless on the ground, at the hands of their patriarchs (Fig. 6<\/strong>).<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Fig. 6.<\/strong> Production image from Othello! (2023) showing Meltem Erkurtulgu (looming over) as Othello and \u0130pek Sar\u0131lar (lying on the ground) as Desdemona. Photo: Courtesy of YuStudio<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Othello!<\/em> not only employs innovative adaptive strategies to reinterpret Shakespeare\u2019s tragedy within a culturally localized theatrical framework, but it also delivers powerful cathartic moments designed to raise awareness about violence against women. News of women being brutally murdered by their male partners or acquaintances is, unfortunately, a common headline for the local audience, who once again recognize that bureaucratic lethargy during times of crises \u201cexiles women to unhearable and invisible spaces and prevents them from having their own voices\u201d (Zengin 35).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In my experience of the play, the ending, driven by questions of political and individual activism, left the audience in thoughtful silence, sparking a sense of communal responsibility. As the actors solemnly address the audience, calling them to action, the performance space transforms into a site of collective reckoning: \u201cYou can’t plug your ears, you can’t pretend you didn’t see it, you can’t walk away like nothing happened\u201d(G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez). Distinctive aspects of the play, such as the entertaining foyer music, breaking the fourth wall through banter and bickering, are reminiscent of the meddah<\/em>\u2019s banter dialogue, which is also a key aspect of ortaoyunu<\/em> and Karag\u00f6z in their opening scenes. This layer of metatheatricality, as illustrated in the proposed ASM structure, is complemented by the rehearsal setting. Watching this performance certainly encourages a sense of activism and self-reflection, serving as a powerful provocation for introspection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Conclusion<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

The very fabric of Turkish theatrical traditions is woven with laughter, irony, and satire. This centuries-old legacy remains an essential part of Shakespearean adaptations, regardless of the tragic nature of the original scripts. Turkish Shakespeares have experienced a marked increase in popularity over the past few decades. Istanbul\u2019s stages are a key driving force behind this buoyant, adaptive spirit, thanks to the abundance of performance spaces and strong audience demand. However, this rise in interest in adapting Shakespeare to local stages is attributed not only to a rapid increase in the number of new productions and the opening of new performance venues, but also to the proliferation of innovative theatrical approaches that focus on creating immersive experiences for audiences.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shakespeare is continuously unstitched and restitched with the very fabric that the Adaptive Stage Matrix (ASM<\/em>)<\/strong> assembles through local filters (meddah<\/em>, ortaoyunu<\/em>, and Karag\u00f6z). The final products showcase an intriguing blend of theatrical experience\u2014urgent, subversive, and distinctly local. By focusing on five contemporary Shakespeare productions on the Turkish stage, this study may offer a point of entry into localized Shakespearean practices and suggest an alternative ground for further discussion of their place within the broader adaptation canon in T\u00fcrkiye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n
Endnotes<\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

[1]<\/sup><\/a> This analysis is based on the live performance I saw at Moda Sahnesi, Istanbul, T\u00fcrkiye on 21 July 2024. Directed and adapted by Kemal Aydo\u011fan. Translated by Emine Ayhan. Scenic design: Bengi G\u00fcnay. Lighting design: \u0130rfan Varl\u0131. Music: Dengin Ceyhan. Choreography: Dilan Yo\u011fun. Stage photography: Or\u00e7un Kaya. Dramaturgy: Kemal Aydo\u011fan. Actors: Caner Cindoruk (Othello), Y\u0131lmaz S\u00fct\u00e7\u00fc (Narrator\/Lodovico\/Montano\/the Messenger\/Bianca), \u0130lay Erk\u00f6k (Desdemona), Ahmed Saka (Iago), Mert \u015ei\u015fmanlar (Michael Cassio), Seray Ak\u00fclker (Emilia), and Mesut Karakulak (Roderigo). <\/p>\n\n\n\n

[2]<\/sup><\/a> This kind of music refers to largely monophonic Ottoman-Turkish music, which \u201cdivides a whole note into nine parts\u201d, unlike \u201cWestern classical music, which divides a whole note into two parts\u201d (Ba\u015far, \u201cWays of Listening 82).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[3]<\/sup><\/a> The singer offered a repertoire of Turkish art music which sparked close audience attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[4]<\/sup><\/a> Song title: Oyun Bitti<\/em>, Composer: \u0130smet Nedim Saat\u00e7i, Lyricist: B\u00fclent Pozan, Release Date: 1969.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[5]<\/sup><\/a> Song title: K\u0131skan\u0131r\u0131m Seni Ben<\/em>, Composer: Teoman Alpay, Lyricist: Hikmet M\u00fcnir Ebcio\u011flu, Release Date: 1971.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[6]<\/sup><\/a> Shakespeare frames Othello<\/em> with memories of the Ottoman-Venetian War (1570-1573), during which the Ottoman fleet was destroyed at the Battle of Lepanto (1571), not by a storm (as the play suggests), but by the Christian \u201cHoly League.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[7]<\/sup><\/a> It involves the legal or administrative process of appointing a trustee by the court to replace the current management when executives are suspected of involvement in anti-establishment, corrupt, anti-government, or pro-terrorist activities. Here, the political criticism targets the process by which several elected mayors and municipal administrations have been replaced by state-appointed trustees in T\u00fcrkiye since mid-2010s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[8]<\/sup><\/a> Most recently \u0130stanbul Metropolitan Municipality\u2019s mayor Ekrem \u0130mamo\u011flu\u2019s case has been a vital issue of Turkish politics since 19th<\/sup> of March 2025. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

[9]<\/sup><\/a> This analysis is based on the live performance I saw at Baba Sahne, Istanbul, T\u00fcrkiye on 16 Nov 2024. Produced by Nos Tiyatro. Scriptwriter and director: Esra Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil. Assistant Director: Asl\u0131 Samat. Motion Design: Taner G\u00fcng\u00f6r. Music Director: Beste G\u00fcl \u00c7\u0131nar. Music: Toygun Tosuno\u011flu. Scenic Design: Ceren Y\u0131lmaz. Lighting Design: Ay\u015fe Sedef Ayter. Actors: Ozan Varol (Romeo\/Lord Capulet), Esra Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil (Juliet), Adem Y\u0131lmaz (Narrator), Tu\u011f\u00e7e \u00d6zl\u00fc \u015eent\u00fcrk (Rosaline), Melih Tuma (Paris\/Tybalt).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[10]<\/sup><\/a> Post-2000s Turkish stages have seen notable adaptations of Romeo and Juliet<\/em> that redefine the fate of star-crossed lovers within the Turkish context. A brief survey of these plays will offer a quick snapshot of the play\u2019s Turkish afterlives. These include Istanbul State Theatre\u2019s radically adapted production (2010) by director Kemal Ba\u015far, who freely modified the Shakespearean script, allowed new role shifts while incorporating local humor and parody (Ba\u015far). Istanbul City Theatre\u2019s Tarla Ku\u015fuydu Juliet<\/em> (2009) is based on Israeli playwright Ephraim Kishon\u2019s convention-bending retelling of Oh, Oh Juliet! <\/em>which features an absurdist love story in a farce-paced tempo where Shakespeare\u2019s ghost appears to intervene in the unfolding events (Alkan). Directed and adapted by Mert F\u0131rat at Istanbul\u2019s new urban attraction, the theatre house DasDas, Romeo ve Juliet<\/em> (2021) satirizes the fast-consuming society dominated by social media callousness (F\u0131rat). Meanwhile, the touring production of Juliet and Romeo<\/em> by Lost Dog, a two-hander directed by British playwright Ben Duke, offers a radical reinterpretation that explores the afterlife of the ill-fated lovers through rhythmic dance and choreography (Duke).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[11]<\/sup><\/a> Production photos and videos can be accessed via the official Instagram account here<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[12]<\/sup><\/a> This analysis is based on the live performance I saw at Moda Sahnesi, Istanbul, T\u00fcrkiye on 23 Oct 2024. Directed by Yark\u0131n \u00dcnsal. Script: Beliz G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez. Produced by: YuStudio. Actors: Meltem Erkutulgu, \u0130pek Sar\u0131lar. Dramaturgy: Eyl\u00fcl \u0130diman. Light Design: Ay\u015fe Sedef Ayter. Motion Design: Or\u00e7un Okurgan. Scenic Design: Asya \u0130rem \u00c7evikkaya. Scenic Design: Sedef \u00c7i\u00e7ekdiken. Scenic Design: Selenay Karaahmet. Music: Cem Kahraman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[13]<\/sup><\/a> Based on OECD\u2019s Violence Against Women data, \u201ca subindex of The Gender, Institutions and Development Database\u201d (GID-DB) 2023. It shows data on the prevalence of intimate-partner violence over a lifetime, attitudes justifying domestic violence, and legal discrimination against violence toward women (OECD).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[14]<\/sup><\/a> A Council of Europe treaty aimed at combating violence against women and domestic violence. \u201cIt offers a legal framework to protect women from violence and promote gender equality, through legislation, education and awareness raising\u201d (Amnesty International 6).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[15]<\/sup><\/a> The modern adaptations of the play in T\u00fcrkiye highlight its Cypriot setting, an island in the East Mediterranean with significant historical ties to the Ottoman Empire and its current politically divided status. These adaptations also emphasize deconstructive efforts that challenge the masculine dominance grounded in the narrative and aim to raise awareness about gender-based violence and subjugation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

[16]<\/sup><\/a> See Ejder (146) for a further insight into how rehearsal as part of a play functions as metatheatricality, helping to negotiate with the authority of the canonical text and weight of the traditional repertoire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bibliography<\/strong><\/strong><\/h5>\n\n\n\n

Alkan, Engin, director. Tarla Ku\u015fuydu Juliet. Adapted from Ephrahim Kishon\u2019s Oh, Oh, Juliet!<\/em> Istanbul City Theatres, 1 Oct. 2009.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alt\u0131nay, Ay\u015feg\u00fcl, and Ye\u015fim Arat. Violence Against Women in Turkey: A Nationwide Survey<\/em>. Punto, 2009.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Amnesty International. Turkey, Turn Words into Actions<\/a><\/em>. 2021.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aydo\u011fan, Kemal, director. Othello<\/em>. By William Shakespeare, Moda Sahnesi, \u0130stanbul, 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ba\u011f\u0131\u015fgil, Esra, director. Verona \u00c7\u0131kmaz\u0131<\/em>. By William Shakespeare, Nos Tiyatro, Baba Sahne, \u0130stanbul, 16 Nov. 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ba\u015far, Deniz. \u201cHow to Subvert a Patriarchal Tradition? A Feminist Comedy by Beliz G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez.\u201d Out of the Attic Session <\/em>of Sex Pan!Cs Conference<\/em>, October 12-14, 2023, Dublin City University.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2014\u2014\u2014. \u201cWays of Listening: Maqam Music on the Contemporary Stage.\u201d Music and Sound in European Theatre: Practices, Performances, Perspectives<\/em>, edited by Tamara Jasmin Quick and David Roesner, Routledge, 2025.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ba\u015far, Kemal, director. Romeo ve Juliet<\/em>. By William Shakespeare. Istanbul State Theatres, 2010.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Butler, Daren, et al. \u201cTurkey Considering Quitting Treaty on Violence against Women: Ruling Party<\/a>.\u201d Reuters<\/em>, 5 Aug. 2020.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00c7ola, Y\u0131lmaz. \u201cOttomanism vs. Kemalism: Collective Memory and Cultural Pluralism in 1990s Turkey.\u201d Middle Eastern Studies<\/em>, vol. 42, no. 4, Jul. 2006, pp. 587-602.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Duke, Ben, director. Juliet and Romeo<\/em>. Lost Dog, Maximum Uniq Hall, Istanbul, 3 Nov. 2022.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ejder, Eylem. Geri D\u00f6n\u00fc\u015f\u00fcm Dramaturgileri: 2010\u2019lu Y\u0131llar T\u00fcrkiye Tiyatrosunda Nostalji, Metatiyatro, \u00dctopya<\/em>. 2022. Ankara University, PhD dissertation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ergil, Ba\u015fak. \u201cWorld Classics in Turkish Theatrical Tradition and Back in World Canons: Ferhan \u015eensoy\u2019s Translational Recanonization Practices.\u201d S\u00f6ylem Filoloji Dergisi<\/em>, Feb. 2023, pp. 10\u201328.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

F\u0131rat, Mert, director. Romeo ve Juliet<\/em>. By William Shakespeare. DasDas, Istanbul, 15 Nov. 2021.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

G\u00fc\u00e7bilmez, Beliz, playwright. Othello! Seyircili \u0130ntikam Provas\u0131. <\/em>By William Shakespeare. Directed by Yark\u0131n \u00dcnsal, YuStudio, Moda Sahnesi, \u0130stanbul, 1 Apr. 2023.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

G\u00fcnekan, Melis. Shakespeare and Authority: The Intersection of Theatre, Locality, and Politics in Turkey<\/em>. 2021. Bo\u011fazi\u00e7i University, PhD dissertation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

G\u00fcrbilek, Nurdan. The New Cultural Climate in Turkey: Living in a Shop Window<\/em>. Zed Books, 2011.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Karah\u00fcseyino\u011flu, Murat, director. Venedikli Tacir<\/em>. By William Shakespeare. \u00d6teki Tiyatro, Moda Sahnesi, Istanbul, 24 Oct. 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2014\u2014\u2014. personal interview, 4 Jul. 2025.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

K\u0131raathane \u0130stanbul Edebiyat Evi. \u201cOthello – Caner Cindoruk, Kemal Aydo\u011fan<\/a>.\u201d YouTube<\/em>, 10 Feb. 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Matz, Robert. \u201cSlander, Renaissance Discourses of Sodomy, and Othello.\u201d The Johns Hopkins University Press, vol. 66, no. 2, 1999, pp. 261\u201376.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Most Production. \u201cSezen Aksu & The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra<\/a>.\u201d YouTube<\/em>, 2016.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

OECD. \u201cViolence Against Women<\/a>.\u201d Gender, Institutions and Development Database (GID-DB)<\/em>, 2023.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

OHCHR. \u201cT\u00fcrkiye: Stemming Tide of Violence against Women and Girls Should Be Priority, Says UN Expert<\/a>.\u201d United Nations<\/em>, 27 Jul. 2022.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sanders, Julie. Shakespeare and Music: Afterlives and Borrowings<\/em>. Polity, 2007.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sat\u0131r, \u00d6mer Can. Yeni Ankaral\u0131 M\u00fczik Anlay\u0131\u015f\u0131 ve E\u011flence Pratiklerinin D\u00f6n\u00fc\u015f\u00fcm\u00fc<\/em>. 2014. Istanbul Technical University, PhD dissertation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire<\/em>. Columbia University Press, 1985.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sevengil, Refik Ahmet. T\u00fcrk Tiyatrosu Tarihi<\/em>. Alfa, 2015.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shilvock, Matthew. \u201cCharles Gounod: The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet in Four Beautiful Duets<\/a>.\u201d Folger Shakespeare Library<\/em>, 30 Aug. 2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u00dcnsal, Yark\u0131n, director. Othello! Seyircili \u0130ntikam Provas\u0131<\/em>. YuStudio, Moda Sahnesi, \u0130stanbul, 1 Apr. 2023.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

World Economic Forum. Global Gender Gap Report 2025<\/a><\/em>. 2025.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Y\u00fcksel-Kaptano\u011flu, \u0130lknur, et al. \u201cWhat Puts Women at Risk of Violence From Their Husbands? Findings From a Large, Nationally Representative Survey in Turkey.\u201d Journal of Interpersonal Violence<\/em>, vol. 24, no. 7, 2012, pp. 2743\u00ad \u20132769.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Zengin, Asl\u0131. Sexual Margins: A Study on an Ethnography of \u201cThe State\u201d And Women Sex Workers In Istanbul<\/em>. 2007. Bo\u011fazi\u00e7i University, MA thesis. <\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

*<\/a>Burak Urucu<\/strong> is an EFL instructor at the School of Foreign Languages, Istanbul University-Cerrahpa\u015fa, T\u00fcrkiye. He earned his undergraduate and graduate degrees in English Language and Literature, with a focus on contemporary British theatre. His research centers on contemporary British drama, Shakespeare in performance, and Turkish stage reinterpretations of canonical works, with particular attention to how these productions are shaped by local traditional idioms and theatrical practices. He is a member of the Turkish Shakespeares Project, which aims to promote Shakespeare\u2019s visibility by mapping and reviewing the Bard\u2019s Turkish afterlives and by supporting scholarly research.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Copyright \u00a9<\/strong> 2026 Burak Urucu
Critical Stages\/Sc\u00e8nes critiques<\/em>, #33, June 2026
e-ISSN: 2409-7411<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\"Creative<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

This work is licensed under the
Creative Commons Attribution International License CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":72,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-66","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-essays-i"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/34\/2026\/03\/image4.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/66","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=66"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/66\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1178,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/66\/revisions\/1178"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/72"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=66"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=66"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.critical-stages.org\/33\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=66"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}