DESIGN and CRAFTSMANSHIP

Sometimes I follow a pattern or an idea.
Other times, it’s simply a feeling.
There are days I step into my studio with nothing in hand—just a quiet space and a thought waiting to take shape.
That’s where the design process begins for me.

Design often asks for solitude. It’s a time for thinking, trying, undoing, and starting again.
But I am not always alone in the making. I collaborate with skilled artisans—our conversations revolve around an object, and our shared experiments shape its journey into existence.

Production can be intense at times, or flow with its own natural rhythm.
When bringing an idea to life, there’s no knowing without trying. That’s the essence of the process.

My relationship with craft began in the historical heart of Istanbul.
Over the years, as I worked in that district, the language of my designs evolved with the place itself.
There’s an energy in working at the very center of a production neighborhood.
For me, design is not just an idea—it’s a sum of the hands that shape it, the repeated movements, and the time that flows silently beside it.

When shaping a porcelain cup or imagining the form of a ring, a dialogue begins between my mind and my hands.
We speak a lot, in our own quiet way.
“Let’s make this a bit thinner,” I might say.
Sometimes, it’s the material that responds: “This is where we stop.”
These exchanges often become a kind of music—an internal rhythm I’ve learned to listen to.

Craft has taught me patience. That rushing never makes anything better. That design needs time.
And most importantly, it taught me the value of co-creation.
No matter how many ideas I have, a piece only becomes whole through the touch of a master hand and the wisdom of the craftspeople I work with.

For me, the design process is about making the invisible visible, shaping a feeling, and giving life to an object.
And every object carries a little thought, a bit of time, and a great deal of labor.

Özlem