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Architecture Turkish House: The Spatial Memory of a Civilization That Leaves the Sun to Its Neighbor
While scrolling through X, I came across a sentence by Ali Kaan: “Turks deserve to live not in cramped apartment flats, but in real Turkish…
Latest Posts
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Opinion Columns The City’s Fitting: A Manifesto on the Tailoring of Space
Although scales change in the world of design, the struggle between imagination and physical space remains the same. Whether designing a building, a neighborhood or…
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Opinion Columns Rereading The City On A White Ground
You know, there’s a concept in theater called the “rhubarb.” It refers to the empty, background noise of the crowd. Could that “rhubarb” actually be…
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Editor's Picks Can You Hear the Character of a City?
Over the years, in different cities, sometimes in the middle of a walk, sometimes on the way back home, and sometimes simply because I could…
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History Dinosaurs’ Perfumed Flower: Magnolia’s 95-Million-Year-Old Secret
Today, let’s take a short break from everything, from all that rushing around and those tiring routines. I want us to step one pace back…
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Children The Vanishing of Play Between Concrete
We’re wedged between enormous slabs of concrete. Between facades that are tall, glossy, perfectly smooth… Even the sound of children sometimes disappears without an echo—because…
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Bright Ideas Designing for the Majority: Rebuilding a City’s Character
In the world of urban planning and design—especially in the minds of mayors—there is often a recurring illusion:…
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Children Reading the City from 95 cm
We often see the city “from above.” From maps, plans, screens… And then from within life itself: from behind the steering wheel, from the middle…
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Landscape Architecture The Break in the Planning–Implementation–Maintenance Chain: Landscape Architecture’s Hidden Crisis
In landscape architecture, the success of a project depends not only on a good design, but also on correct implementation and on being sustained over…
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Editor's Picks The Rhythm of Life in the Shadow of the Black Pine
The shadow of the black pine carrying the night sits on my tent by the shore of Karagöl like a roof tile; as if to…
