ISTANBUL — Located in a narrow, high-ceilinged apartment in Istanbul’s bobo Cihangir neighborhood, “This is Not a Performance” is not an exhibition for those who prefer traditional art. Used black duct tape, with strands of hair and bits of skin stuck to it, cover one wall. A pink porcelain sink, broken and soiled, stands in a corner; a plastic bag filled with water in another. Through the black earphones suspended from the ceiling, the recorded voices of the performance artists explain how they have used these objects in their past performances.

The black duct tape belongs to Ozlem Uslu, who taped it on her body and asked the audience to take it off in a performance Nov. 11. Some tore at the tape savagely while others did it more carefully, afraid to hurt the artist. The pink sink was part of an 11-day performance on the past and present of Tarlabasi, a marginalized neighborhood just a stone’s throw away from the chic Cihangir area.

“These are neither installations nor a documentation [of past performances],” Simge Burhanoglu, the curator of the exhibition, told Al-Monitor. “The exhibition aims to showcase the remaining solid objects from past performances, accompanied by voice records of the performance artists. We want to create an understanding toward performance art by focusing on the process, the effects of it on the performers and the interaction with the audience — both during the performance and in its aftermath.”

Burhanoglu has been a key actor in the development of Turkey’s budding performance art, which has been one of the least developed disciplines of contemporary art in the country until half a decade ago. A former ballerina who has done her post-graduate studies in London, Burhanoglu came back to Istanbul in 2013 with the idea to promote performance art; she started forcing open the doors of private galleries and biennials to include live art works.