THE LAUGHTER-FILLED STAGE DUST: LEMONADE TURKISH COMEDY CLUB

Burcin Turhan – It all started when I stumbled upon the Instagram account of Lemonade Turkish Comedy Club. A voice inside me said, “Burçin, this is your place!” So, I reached out to Yunus, the brilliant mind behind Lemonade Turkish Comedy Club. The message I sent him was more of a cry for help than a request: “I want to perform too!” This simple sentence was actually the translation of a much deeper question: “What am I doing?” With a rush of adrenaline, I hit send. I’m glad I did—courage is a beautiful thing, even if you don’t know where it comes from! While it may seem like a small act from the outside, for me, it was a revolution. That moment, the voices in my head started speaking all at once. “What if you can’t do it? What if you forget your jokes? What if…?” Another voice reassured me, “Girl, haven’t you conquered so much already? Just give this a try.” I decided to listen to the second voice.

Yunus and I agreed that I would perform at an open mic. But stepping on stage wasn’t as simple as it seemed. Being a comedian, especially a female comedian, carries different connotations for everyone. Society generally expects women to be “ladylike,” not funny. But my ladylike manners last only until I step on stage—if I’m in a good mood, that is!

As the day of the performance approached, that first voice in my head reappeared. I was initially trying to come up with funny jokes, but then I started to panic, thinking, “What if no one laughs?” That itself was ironic—imagine a woman telling a joke that no one laughs at, ha! As a woman, I felt that if I made a mistake on stage, it would be seen as three times bigger. But then I thought, “Burçin, what’s better comedy material than these very fears?”

Whether you’re a man or a woman, the key rule in comedy is to laugh at yourself and stand confidently on stage, knowing that people will judge you. Aren’t we, as women, already on a stage every day? Judged by family, work, relatives, or partners? This time, stepping onto a stage under the lights just requires a bit more courage—but that’s what makes it fun.

The moment Yunus announced my name and invited me on stage, I thought of the last page in Kaan Sekban’s book, Tebrikler Kovuldunuz (Congratulations, You’re Fired). Every step I took toward the stage was for a feeling or for someone. The first step was for every moment I didn’t believe in myself; the second was to prove that I could do whatever I wanted; the third was for my sister Burcu, who always supports me and wants me to be myself. And there I was, on stage. Despite years of acting at Müjdat Gezen Theatre, this felt like my first time on stage. That’s when I realized there was a world of difference between those stages—there, I was in character, but here I was naked, just Burçin. With my shyness, excitement, panic attacks, and standing before the audience, blinded by that white light. I had set myself up to do something I’d never experienced before, without even rehearsing.

Thankfully, the lights didn’t go out, and everyone didn’t just go home—just kidding! My first line was, “Hi, I’m Burçin Turhan.” After that, I don’t remember much. As I kept talking, I heard a couple of chuckles—aha, I thought. As I heard more, I got more into it, and there it was, like a newborn baby smiling at me: the first big laugh.

When my performance ended, I stepped off the stage, and inside, I said, “I did it!” Despite all the prejudices female comedians face, standing tall on stage and making the audience laugh is a great feeling! My first experience at Lemonade Turkish Comedy Club wasn’t just a performance; it reminded me of how valuable it is to be a woman on stage, to do comedy, and to be yourself. I forgot more jokes than I told on that stage, but instead of trying to hide it, I shared it with the audience by saying, “Well, I just forgot what I was going to say!”

Performing at Lemonade Turkish Comedy Club was one of the most terrifying yet rewarding experiences of my life. As a female comedian, breaking away from the roles society expects and finding my path on stage is an amazing feeling. Remember, women aren’t just graceful; they can also be incredibly funny. And if it takes stepping on a stage to prove that, we’ll do it—we are doing it—because the stage is our place too!

Of course, this journey doesn’t end on stage. Stand-up is an art form that requires continuous growth and learning. My first time on stage was just the beginning of this long journey. Every new stage experience taught me patience and perseverance. Things may not be perfect overnight. You might not deliver the performance you wanted in your first few attempts. But what’s important is not to give up on the process and to keep working on improving every time. Stand-up, like life, is a journey with ups and downs. But what matters is to add something to yourself with every step and to learn from each experience.

In the end, taking this first step into the world of stand-up refreshed my self-confidence, helped me face my fears, and opened a door for me to be more courageous in every area of life. The existence of Lemonade Turkish Comedy Club and people like Yunus makes this journey even more meaningful. Without their support and guidance, taking this step would have been much harder for me. For instance, after one performance, when I forgot my joke on stage, I went to Yunus and, like a little child, complained to him about myself. He said just one word: “Time.” And he was right. Just like in anything else, I was looking for reasons to criticize myself instead of having fun. Yunus’ single word took me from the scorching sands to the cool seas. Wow 😊 Lemonade Turkish Comedy Club and Yunus, I’m so glad you exist.

You know what the most fun part is? Our pre-show chats and the comedy green room. Everyone there shares the same worries, excitement, and joy. If someone is more experienced, they encourage the newcomers by saying, “Don’t worry, you’ll do great, we’re here to have fun.” Someone else is practicing the joke they’re going to tell on stage. Everyone finds a way to calm their nerves, and they do.

If you feel any excitement inside you for something, the only thing you need to do is take a step to turn that excitement into courage. Don’t be afraid to face your fears, because behind those fears might be the greatest successes of your life. That first day I stepped onto the stand-up stage was one of the most courageous steps I’ve ever taken, and the lessons I learned that day continue to guide me in all areas of life. As you start writing your own story, remember this: courage begins with overcoming your fears.

It’s Time to Start Somewhere

Gorkem Cinar –

Dear reader,

As I begin writing, I could have made a flashy start with phrases like “The power of words” or “Storytelling,” but I didn’t want this to be a boring piece. It wouldn’t feel sincere either.

Right now, I’m writing these lines on a flight from Izmir to London. Why am I sharing this detail? Honestly, I don’t know. But I needed to start this writing from somewhere. Just like how I need to start with humor…

Having spent my childhood and youth reading humor magazines, my greatest desire was to draw cartoons. However, since I lacked drawing skills, my connection with humor magazines remained that of a good reader. But one day, I wanted to grasp humor by its arms and pull it towards me like an eager tango dancer (yes, biting a red rose).

How should a stand-up routine be written? How can timing be used most effectively? How can each new joke be improved to be better than the last? What if they don’t laugh? These were all unknowns in a very complicated equation.

The only thing I knew was how to make people laugh.

I always dreamed of doing Turkish comedy in London, but there weren’t many opportunities to do so. Until I met the “Lemonade Comedy Club.” (This part was added by the boss.)

Everything started by participating in the Open Mic. I began by sharing my amusing observations with the audience and, after receiving positive reactions and laughter, I became part of the team.

Over time, I realized what was important in a comedy club:

  • A team that approaches its comedians with compassion and shares their mistakes with kindness.
  • A team that seeks answers to the question, “How can it be done better?”
  • A team that supports you both on nights when you get laughs and when there’s silence.
  • A team that promptly evaluates feedback from comedians and the audience (yes, promptly).

All of the above made this club one that answers the question, “What should a comedy club do to provide comfort to its comedians?” (I wrote this part myself. Seriously.)

So, as a budding comedian (whatever that means), how has my life changed over time?

  • I’ve started taking more notes.
  • Instead of going for the first joke that comes to mind, I try to create more layered jokes.
  • I can’t shake the thought of, “Will I be funny tomorrow?”
  • I’ve participated in more Open Mics to gain stage experience and test new jokes.
  • I’m aware that jokes I think are funny might not be funny to everyone, and I’m searching for ways to turn that to my advantage (still haven’t found it).
  • I’ve concluded that those who comment, “He didn’t use any facial expressions,” may want to laugh but couldn’t due to a medical issue, and they want to express that.
  • I strive to present jokes as simply as possible.
  • Sincerity: being exactly who you are.

But I think another important factor is being able to capture the audience in the first seconds without resorting to “audience flattery.” The last principle I mentioned—sincerity—summarizes this beautifully.

As in all forms of art, originality is very important in humor as well. There will inevitably be inspirations or influences from different comedians, but these influences should never turn into copying or imitation. The audience picks up on that immediately, and you start to lose them. As Tarkan said, “Don’t be someone else, be yourself. You’ll be much funnier that way.”

By consistently participating in Open Mics, we can experiment with new jokes and also have the chance to refine those we’ve tested before. I compare jokes to comedians. Over time, they find their best form as they experience different audiences. I think once this harmony is achieved, both the comedian and the jokes stand on stage in their “best form.”

If time allows during an Open Mic, I like to start with a previously tested joke that received positive feedback before introducing a new one. This helps reduce the excitement and prepares the audience for the next “new” joke. I call this the “base.” It’s like having a light snack before drinking rakı to prepare your palate for the alcohol.

Giving a joke that hasn’t received a reaction one last chance is also important. Sometimes, you may experience a night when even your most trusted joke doesn’t get a laugh. Perhaps the audience didn’t connect, or you weren’t on your game. But if you still believe in that untested joke, I think it deserves one last chance. The first steps of a joke are just as important as its maturity.

As I mentioned earlier, I’m still quite new to humor production and stand-up. Therefore, I don’t have an audience that knows me yet (not yet). So every time I take the stage, I have something in mind. The audience doesn’t know me, and the attendees come in thinking, “We heard there’s a Turkish stand-up night, so we came,” which makes my job a bit tougher.

When telling a joke that lacks a reference for the audience, some content needs to be provided. For instance, before making an offside joke to someone who has never watched football, you should explain what an offside is, or when telling a joke that someone from a particular culture might understand, it may be necessary to clarify it for someone from a different culture. However, what’s important here is that the explanation should be as quick and clear as possible. Otherwise, the audience will get bored and, to put it bluntly, start “tuning out.” Thus, making jokes that appeal to the “general” audience will save a comedian from this burden.

Another thing that makes me happy on this journey is seeing that the perspective I’ve created is accepted and laughed at in different contexts as well.

Since I believe that a person can have a better narrative in their mother tongue and express themselves more clearly, performing humor in Turkish is a great comfort zone.

I’d like to thank the “Lemonade Comedy Club” family for providing this space for us “budding” comedians. (I added this last part after promising I’d be the opening comedian at the next Open Mic.)