GLR May-June 2026

decided to go there. That evening we talked about John Herbert’s play Fortune and Men’s Eyes (1967). Gülriz and Engin had already convinced Jimmy to do the mise en-scène of the play and to direct it. I already knew about the play because I was a theater critic myself. To be honest, I was hesitant about working with Baldwin, especially after that evening. But then Jimmy directly told me that he wanted me to be his assistant. I asked: “Why me?” and he answered: “I feel that way after hav ing read your article.” This obviously made me feel flat tered and I said: “I have some theater knowledge, so let me think about it.” When I said this, he reacted: “Lucky you! I have no knowledge of theater. But we can learn together!” At that point, I just accepted his kind invita tion. And voilà. We started to work together. İŞ : So this is how the story of Dü ş eninDostu began— the Turkish adaptation of Herbert’s Fortune and Men’s Eyes . The title comes from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29, which has the line: “When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes.” Can you give us a sense of the backstage of your collective work here? ZO: Yes indeed. I want to say that this turned out to be a fabu lous play. Including the title, it was translated by Ali Poyrazo ğ lu and Oktay Balamir. Just to give you some background, there are four young boys in a prison and a guard. One is called Quee nie, a transvestite. Another is called Mona Lisa, who is very beautiful, effeminate, and “sensitive.” The other is called Rocky, the macho. And the main character is Smitty—played by Engin Cezzar. This is a guy who was abused and had seen violence in his youth, who then becomes a violent killer. And then there’s the prison guard, played by Aydemir Akba ș . He was a comedy actor, but this time he was the guard, who’s the most impris oned among all the prisoners. Because prisoners, as you know, eventually leave, but the guards remain in the prison. It took us three whole months just to do the “tablework.” Lots of reading and in-depth character analysis. Note that in this cast only two people spoke English, while Jimmy didn’t speak Turkish at all. Jimmy was following the English and Turkish versions simultaneously. After three months, when those five young actors went onto the stage, Jimmy knew exactly what to do. It was an amazing moment that shocked me. He had stud ied each character in such a deep way that everybody could sense that he knew what he was doing. İŞ : In terms of translations, would you say that you were the linguistic bridge between Mr. Baldwin and the Turkish-speak ing artists there? ZO: Not only a bridge. I was doing it all—like taking a note of everything, minute by minute, and following the stage actions. But when we were doing the “tablework” during those three months, I was mainly doing translation work. I actually have a sweet memory from those days which still gives me goose bumps. The guy who was playing Mona Lisa was not an actor by training; he was a famous decorator and costume designer. He had a very beautiful, innocent face. When Jimmy saw him, he said: “This is our Mona Lisa!” His name was Bülent Erba ș ar. İŞ : Were you translating between Mr. Erba ș ar and Baldwin? ZO: Yes. Bülent didn’t know a word of English, and Jimmy

Engin Cezzar, Ali Poyrazo ğ lu, and Baldwin during a rehearsal. 1960s, Istanbul. Oral’s archive.

didn’t speak Turkish at all. So I was constantly translating be tween them during rehearsals. Once Bülent told me in a sooth ing tone: “Zeynep, my dear, you don’t have to translate everything. I already feel what this is about.” We unfortunately lost him at a very young age. But alas, we have lost all of them. Only Ali and I are alive from that crew. İŞ : How was Baldwin’s relationship with the Turkish actors? ZO: He was so nice to the whole crew. The only thing that got him angry was tardiness. We used to start around 10 a.m., and Aydemir was almost always late—the one playing the prison guard. And in such an atmosphere, Jimmy used to call us “ çocukla ğ !” (children) because he couldn’t really say the letter “r” and thus couldn’t pronounce the proper Turkish word, which is çocuklar. From what I gather, some American critics wrote that in each character there was a bit of Jimmy himself. İŞ : And what about after-work times—what did you use to do? ZO: We would eat, drink, and dance. Jimmy loved dancing and was a very good dancer. He had a tuxedo hat, and he would give us some funny shows. The space for these parties would usually be the Engin-Gülriz house, Jimmy’s house, or my house, which was the closest to the theater. Gülriz and Engin used to live in the neighborhood called Ayaspa ş a, which is right behind the German Consulate in Istanbul. Jimmy also had moved in with them for the sake of ease during rehearsals. So they were basi cally sharing a flat in Ayaspa ș a. İŞ : Was this also the part of Istanbul where Baldwin ran into Don Cherry? ZO: Exactly. Let me tell you the full story. One day, as they are headed home, they see a musician sitting on the ground by the German Consulate. He is playing trumpet with a little kid sitting by him. Jimmy stops and says: “Look, this is Don Cherry!” and they ask: “Who’s that?” Then Jimmy replies: “Don’t you know Don? He’s a great Black musician!” It turns out that Don Cherry and his family were passing through Istanbul on their way to Kathmandu. With this magical coincidence, Baldwin and Don Cherry ended up spending a couple of days in Istanbul, where we also got to meet him. I call this coincidence magical because, until

May–June 2026

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