An Apartment in Şişli

An Apartment in Şişli is a photographic series I produced in Şişli, in the center of Istanbul (adjacent to Taksim; a corridor where different faiths and cultures have lived side by side for centuries). The title is taken from the opening of the 1933 operetta Lüküs Hayat. For me this reference is not nostalgia; it is a point of departure for questioning how the promise of early modernity persists today—and for whom it is constructed. The series moves through the distance between the polished image of Şişli celebrated in the song and the Şişli of the present, keeping one question alive: Who lives in Şişli now, who is displaced, and who gets to stay?

After the Gezi protests in 2013 (a mass movement that began in Istanbul and spread across the country, organized around public space and freedoms), many people relocated from the Taksim area toward the Şişli corridor, reshaping the neighborhood. Queer communities, migrants, long-term residents, artists, and musicians formed new contacts and new boundaries on the same streets. As political and social pressure tightened and public space contracted, gatherings retreated indoors. Homes became not only shelters, but places for staying together, for solidarity—and at times, interior spaces that could take on the intensity of a sanctuary.

The people I photograph in the series are my neighbors; they are also my friends. During the shoots we speak about living in Şişli—neighborliness, safety, relocation, and urban memory—and these conversations accompany the distance, gaze, and stance within the portraits. The demolition and “renewal” accelerated by urban transformation continually displace the neighborhood’s memory; with every building that disappears, something of the language of living together disappears with it.

An Apartment in Şişli is a work of memory that moves between portraits and environmental images, recording invisible boundaries, chosen-family ties, and the question: “If I reached out my hand, who would I touch?” Using photography as both testimony and construction, I investigate how belonging is formed—and how it can be protected—in Istanbul today.

Continue Exploring

In Dreams, We Unite

The title In Dreams, We Unite is taken from Zeki Müren’s song of the same name. As an iconic performer who challenged gender norms and carried early traces of queer aesthetics onto the Turkish stage, Müren holds a special place in the emotional memory of this project. In Dreams, We Unite is a visual narrative that traces the intersections of personal and collective memory, and the imprints of loss, intimacy, and healing. Emerging from an archive of nearly 45,000 photographs taken between 2007 and 2023, the project carries the echoes of two distinct periods: the free and exuberant public life of the pre-Gezi years, and the quiet, introspective fragility of the years that followed.

FAMILY

FAMILY (2012) is a portrait series shaped through visits to the homes of my friends who live with their animals. Rather than reducing the concept of family to a single definition, the work opens it up to reflection through the relational forms produced by cohabitation, everyday closeness, and the bonds we build. People, animals, and personal objects appear side by side, because “family” often becomes visible not through bloodlines, but through shared space and the rhythm of a life lived together. In this sense, FAMILY looks at shifting narratives of family and the ways the idea of the “nuclear family” expands and transforms.

Cereyan

“Cereyan” comes from Persian and means flow, occurrence, coming into being; its root cer refers to a cycle and continuous movement. This series makes visible the currents of the dark periods that have recurred within me for years—my losses and my search for healing. Comprising around 120 photographs and still ongoing, it examines how memory is formed, how forgetting becomes possible, and where and how remembering begins.
Projects
Günce