‘Chair on Istiklal Street’

‘Chair on Istiklal Street’  – Restored Chair with Ottoman Turkish Pattern

Personal Reflection:

Stumbling upon this old chair felt like uncovering a forgotten story, waiting patiently to be retold. Its worn surfaces and aged patina whispered of a different era, a time imbued with untold memories and quiet dignity. The chair seemed almost alive, carrying the echoes of those who once sat in it. I felt compelled to restore it, not to erase its history, but to honour and continue it—a gesture of respect for the lives and narratives it may have silently witnessed.

The process of cleaning and repairing the chair was deeply meditative, almost like a dialogue between myself and the object. As I worked to bring it back to life, I found myself reflecting on its origins, imagining the hands that crafted it and the spaces it inhabited. I chose to engrave an Ottoman Turkish pattern onto the seat, a design steeped in cultural richness and intricate beauty. This decision was inspired by modern-day İstiklal Avenue, previously the historic Rue de Grand Pera in Istanbul—a place that has long served as a crossroads of East and West, blending traditions and influences from diverse cultures.

During this restoration, I left elements of wear and tear on the chair, choosing to preserve its imperfections as a testament to its age and adventures. These marks serve as subtle reminders of the trials it has endured, much like the history of the place that inspired it. My thoughts often returned to the September 1955 riots, a moment of profound disruption and loss that left an indelible mark on Istanbul’s history. The violence of those nights tore apart the multicultural fabric of the city, displacing families and forever altering lives, including those of the Greek, Armenian, and Jewish communities who once thrived there.

I approach this history not with the intent to dwell on pain or to cast blame, but to honour the resilience of those who lived through such times. My own father, a Greek Christian, was deported from Istanbul as a young child in 1922, and though his experiences were from an earlier chapter of history, they resonate deeply with my reflections on this piece. Through the scars left on the chair and the beauty of the engraved pattern, I hope to hold space for both the struggles and the enduring spirit of those who have been shaped by the city’s complex history.

The inspiration for this piece also came from visiting the Pera Museum, where I was moved by a partial reconstruction of a beautiful 1950s apartment. That exhibit evoked a time just before the riots—a snapshot of cosmopolitan life on Rue de Grand Pera, filled with elegance, vitality, and cultural exchange. I wanted this chair to carry that same sense of beauty and resilience, bridging the vibrancy of the past with the possibilities of the future.

In choosing the Ottoman Turkish pattern, I sought to celebrate not only the chair’s potential origins but also the broader cultural exchanges that have shaped our shared histories. The floral carvings on the heart-shaped backrest now harmonise with the engraved seat, creating a cohesive interplay between the object’s original craftsmanship and the new layer of meaning I added. This fusion of old and new reflects the enduring nature of cultural legacies, where past and present coexist and enrich one another.

To me, ‘Chair on Istiklal Street’ previously titled The Residence on Rue de Grand Pera is more than a piece of furniture; it is a tribute to cultural heritage and the stories embedded in everyday objects. Each chair, each pattern, each carved detail carries its own history, quietly absorbing and reflecting the lives of those who interact with it. By restoring this chair, I hoped to make its story visible again, inviting viewers to consider the journeys that objects undertake and the layers of meaning they accumulate over time.

Ultimately, this piece is an invitation to reflect on the fragility and resilience of cultural narratives. Rue de Grand Pera, a historic avenue where empires met and cultures intertwined, serves as a metaphor for the complex ways in which our histories are shared, blended, and reinterpreted. The chair, with its Ottoman-inspired seat and European form, becomes a symbol of this intersection—a reminder that beauty often arises from the confluence of different worlds.

Rather than dwelling on the fractures of the past, my hope is to offer this work as a gesture of reconciliation and healing. Objects like this chair are both witnesses and participants in history. They remind us that even in their silence, they carry the weight of time, the traces of human hands, and the stories of the places they have inhabited. Restoring this chair was my way of honouring those traces, giving the past a voice in the present and, hopefully, offering it a place in the future.