ISTANBUL GOVERNORSHIP CANCELS ENRICO MACIAS CONCERT
Istanbul’s governorship has cancelled a Sept. 5 concert by French-Algerian singer Enrico Macias at the Harbiye Cemil Topuzlu Open-Air Theater following calls on social media to protest the event.
Analysis
In-Depth Analysis
Smart, independent reporting on Turkey's politics, economy and foreign affairs.
MÜJDAT GEZEN COULD DIE ON STAGE
'Trees die standing.' That is the title of a play that has been staged in our theaters for many years. Müjdat Gezen is 83 years old and has been a performer for more than 60 years. Not just on stage — also a film actor and television personality. He has spent most of his life, in a sense, broadcasting live. His life is, in fact, a summary of Turkey's most turbulent era.
THE STATE AND THE STAGE
Foreign policy has always liked theater, costumes and masks. Peace conferences, state visits, summit handshakes, seating plans, flags, solemn declarations. All belong to the choreography of international life.
HALDUN DORMEN: GOODBYE, MY SWEET
This week, a century-old star of the stage passed away. He was 98. He had spent 70 of those years performing. The theater has bid farewell to one of its last great masters, Haldun Dormen. Despite this being a death, I chose a title that contains no word of mourning: “Goodbye, my sweet.” It may not appeal to everyone, but it suits Dormen.
PROTEST AT THE THEATER
The State Theaters have recently come under the spotlight due to a protest. The incident took place during the traditional Afife Jale Awards ceremony. Who was Afife Jale? In the early 20th century, when Istanbul was still under occupation, she became the first Turkish woman to appear on stage. The awards are presented every year in her memory.
AĞIR ABİ
In Turkish, ağır abi, literally “heavy-weight bro”—is not your run-of-the-mill elder sibling. He is a stoic, charismatic figure who commands respect with the mere arch of an eyebrow. He doesn’t talk much; he doesn’t need to. His presence alone does the heavy lifting. And if anyone currently embodies the essence of an ağır abi, it’s Hakan Fidan, Turkey’s inscrutable foreign minister. Fidan, poker-faced and perpetually unruffled, has become the leading man in Turkey’s diplomatic theater, even overshadowing the usual stars, such as President Erdoğan and the minister of defense. He seized center stage after the fall of Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria, stepping up to the podium in Doha with all the composure of a man placing bets in a high-stakes poker game. His words called for an inclusive transition in Syria: “The new administration must be established in an orderly manner. There must never be a desire for revenge. It is time to unite and reconstruct the country.”