This article examines the relationship among migration, performance and intercultural dialogue as social policy in the European Union since the late 2000s. Intercultural dialogue is currently enjoying a second wave of prominence with several recently published reports by the European Union explicitly highlighting the relationship between this strategy's transformational possibilities and the role of the arts. Crucially, in both European social policy and performance theory today, interculturalism is increasingly used to mean an embodied practice and site of encounter that strategically multiplies – rather than binarizing or reifying – cultural differences between individuals and within groups. This article compares the work of three European theatre companies who describe their work as theatrical interculturalism and use it as a means of practising and furthering intercultural dialogue: Kloppend Hert (Belgium), Terra Nova Productions (Northern Ireland) and Outlandish Theatre Platform (Republic of Ireland).

The analysis of the following two Israeli plays is the focus of this article: Ghosts in the Cellar (Haifa Theatre, 1983) by Sami Michael, and The Father's Daughters (Hashahar Theatre, 2015) by Gilit Itzhaki. These plays deal with the Farhud – a pogrom which took place in Iraq in 1941, in which two hundred Iraqi Jews were massacred by an Iraqi nationalist mob. The Farhud has become a traumatic event in the memory of this Jewish community. Using the concept of ‘performing history’ as advanced by Freddie Rokem, I observe how these plays, as theatre of a marginalized group, engage in the production of memory and history as well as in the processing of grief. These plays present the Farhud and correspond with the Zionist narrative in two respects: (1) they present the traumatic historical event of these Middle Eastern Jews in the light of its disappearance in Zionist history, and (2) their performance includes Arab cultural and language elements of Iraqi-Jewish identity, and thus implicitly points out the complex situation of the Arab–Israeli conflict.

In 1980 the Republic of Zimbabwe became recognized internationally as an independent state. This independence marked a shift from white minority rule to black majority rule in the form of ZANU–PF in a transition in government that was fraught with brutal violence, tense negotiations and tremendous hope for the democratic state that would emerge. This article begins with a brief overview of key political-theatre and public-arts funding practices that emerged in the newly independent Zimbabwe in the 1980s and continues with an examination of an influential political play from the era by Cont Mhlange entitled Workshop Negative (1986). This article's analysis of Workshop Negative considers how the economic pressures explored in the play mirror the precarious working conditions that arts-funding models placed on political-theatre practitioners in Zimbabwe at the time.

This article is an adapted version of a text originally published in Turkish in the historical materialist journal PRAKSIS in 2016, and translated into English by the author.1 It focuses on performative protest acts and the role of the performing artist in Turkey in the context of the Gezi Park uprisings of 2013. The article examines how some of Gezi's performative protest actions evidence a larger cultural transformation, of which we can see a continuation in new theatre playtexts.

The sociopolitical turbulence in the recent history of Turkey has radically affected the theatre and performance scene. In a climate of fear and repression, performing arts have been fighting for survival and developing ways to endure the dark times, to achieve freedom of artistic expression and open platforms for critical communication. This collection of articles considers contemporary theatre and performance in Turkey, reflecting on some of the complex issues that practitioners, academics and institutions have faced in the current political environment. Each author presents a part of the complex picture of theatre and performance culture in Turkey, and hopes to start a conversation about this oppressed, yet fertile, artistic landscape.

The origins of westernized theatre in Turkey lie in the Tanzimat reform movement, which was in turn inspired by the impact of the French Revolution. The institutionalization of this late encounter was made possible by the foundation of municipal theatres (1914) and of state theatres (1949). The municipal theatres have been most influential, and have had more flexible characteristics as they have been minutely connected with tradition. The state theatres, on the other hand, have been on a mission to educate audiences through their large-scale productions, which the private-enterprise theatres would not possibly dare to produce. They have also been tightly connected with Western-style theatre in their repertoire, and in their understanding of dramaturgy and directing in their productions. Today it is still debatable whether these enormous institutional theatres function effectively or not. The fact that the municipal and state theatres are consistently offering the cheapest tickets and yet not managing to keep a loyal group of audiences is one of the reasons why nearly two hundred plays at independent theatres debut in Istanbul every year. There have been attempts to overcome problems of quality inherent in the structure of these theatres by other theatre groups in premises where more elaborate productions of plays from the mainstream have been performed.

With the inauguration of the presidential system in Turkey, theatre as an institution is at a historical crossroads. By 15 July 2018, just before the controversial emergency law was lifted, two decrees restricting the autonomy of artists working at state theatres, operas and ballets were issued. The first decree replaces a law from 1949 which secures autonomy over budgeting and programming.1 The second places all state theatres under direct control of the president. During the summer, the institutions were temporarily closed until they were harmonized with the new political system. With this structural change, a lengthier political process of shifting powers and centralization is being consolidated. But there has also been a more fundamental epistemological shift going on in Turkey's ideological consciousness, which is deeply rooted in a history of the public sector and of state institutionalism.

After the military intervention of 1980, Turkey's intellectual and social democrats were devastated – imprisoned, escaped to exile, silenced, killed – in the hands of the coup d’état and all the prohibitions that came with it until the first half of the 1980s. Then the famous Turgut Özal government with its unprecedented liberal economic policies came into the picture. Towards the end of the 1980s, a new generation of theatre and performance artists started to stage their response to all this madness and became visible to older generations who had long lost hope and vitality in terms of artistic and humanitarian production. I had the chance to get involved in this artistic endeavour through some of the emerging initiatives, such as Green Grapes Dance Company, Bilsak Theatre Company, Şahika Tekand, Kumpanya, Dance Factory, DAGS (Interdisciplinary Young Artists Association), Hüseyin Katırcıoğlu and Assos Theatre Festival. The works were relentless and new. Bodies were in need of fresh air, and artistic expression in performance did not follow the traditional routes or accepted notions while fully embracing the possibility of not being seen. Actually, the emerging artists did not give a damn. Interestingly – or obviously – enough, most of them were outcasts coming from other fields such as sociology, literature, engineering, law and so on. In relation to this, the artistic and performative visions they put forward were truly interdisciplinary. The contemporary visual art scene and performing arts were in an honest conversation perhaps for the first time in Turkish art history.

Based on my experiences and observations as a dancer, performer, researcher and culture manager, this article aims to shine a light on the performing-arts field, particularly on contemporary dance, in Turkey in the twenty-first century. Given the current political, social and economic shifts in Turkey, which have doubtless affected artistic practice and structures, it is important to draw attention to and explore the emerging players in the field of dance – dance institutions, producers, artists and audience. In addition, it is necessary to create awareness about the new generation's efforts to develop the field in relation to new organizational and partnership structures, shifting from a vertical hierarchy to autonomous and collective working models.

In the summer of 2018, the theatre company Hemhâl, which I co-founded with Nezaket Erden and Hakan Emre Ünal, travelled to a small village in southern Turkey. The main reason for our trip was to realize Nezaket's dream of taking her widely acclaimed solo performance, Dirmit, Dear Shameless Death, to the village where her extended family live. Furthermore, we thought that this performance could resonate with the villagers since it is an adaptation of a Turkish novel by Latife Tekin which talks about the struggles and internal conflicts of a migrant family moving from a small rural village to the big city.

Fire is one of the most magical elements in existence. It is everywhere: in the sky and on the ground, in hearts and in minds, inside and out, in water, in the air and in the soil … It is both divine and demonic. It is between light and dark. It is the source of both life and death. It is a clash. A clash that gave rise to our existence and, simultaneously, the creation of an error.