JUNE 2024 · ESCAPE
Beyoglu - Istanbul
Beyoğlu, Istanbul
The side streets off Istiklal are where the marking happens. Orange shutters pulled down over blue tiles. A graffitied stairway entrance painted in orange and blue, the steps themselves part of the composition. Someone has placed a vintage car — painted over entirely, every surface tagged — in an alley just wide enough to fit it. Across from it, a miniature house, same treatment. The objects have become part of the surface.

Every facade has been written on. Ottoman-era stonework with rust stains running from window frames. A corner building with a red iron balcony and a bookshop on the ground floor. Weathered pink walls with staircases in them, painted designs ascending with the treads. The city's conversation with itself happens on whatever surface is available.
The city's conversation with itself happens on whatever surface is available.
Beyoğlu — June 2024

Istiklal Avenue runs straight and wide. The red tram passes through crowds, and Taksim Square opens at the top with the mosque dome above the gathering. But that's the spine. The side streets are the actual place. A narrow cobbled lane with every shopfront shuttered, all different colours. An Ottoman building with rust-stained facade and window frames so corroded the stone around them has darkened.


People sat in a restaurant interior, drinking tea, framed by the doorway. A food vendor stall with hanging sausages and graffiti above. A group of men working at a street stall. A man holding an Ottoman Empire flag at a street event, expression composed. Street musicians playing on Istiklal, a small crowd gathered.

The sculptures are matter-of-fact. They sit in the alley like parked vehicles. A vintage car covered entirely in spray paint. A theatre poster collage papering a full section of hoarding — layered, not curated.
The last image I kept: a tabby cat on a cardboard box in front of a wall of faded signage. The cat ignoring both the box and the writing behind it.



























