My Favourite Author, Book and Museum
My Favourite Author, Book and Museum
Although I now live in the North Aegean, Istanbul is still a city I return to every month—a place I walk through again and again, draw inspiration from, and have never truly lost touch with. Perhaps that is why I love exploring the city not only through its streets, but also through its literature.
Orhan Pamuk has been one of my favourite authors for many years. Whenever he publishes a new novel, I try to get a copy and read it as soon as possible. In many of his books, Istanbul is far more than a backdrop; it becomes a living, breathing character that shapes the story.
The book that has touched me most is undoubtedly Istanbul: Memories and the City. I have read it twice, at different points in my life. I have always loved biographies, and this book is much more than a memoir. It is also a powerful portrait of Istanbul and its collective memory.
One of the concepts that has affected me most is “hüzün”—a word that conveys a particular kind of melancholy. Pamuk describes Istanbul’s melancholy not simply as an emotion, but as a shared memory that lives on in the city’s architecture, its streets, the mist over the Bosphorus and its ageing buildings.
As a designer, I feel a strong connection to this way of seeing the world. I, too, believe that design is not merely about aesthetics; it is a carrier of lived experiences, culture and memory. Sometimes, an object’s value lies not in its form, but in the story it holds.
One of the ideas that stayed with me most from the book is that a city’s magic depends, in part, on how we choose to look at it. When a city inspires us, our lives gradually begin to take shape around that inspiration.
Perhaps this is why I was reluctant to leave Beyoğlu for so many years. Throughout my time in Istanbul, I always chose to live in the city centre. For me, inspiration was hidden in the most unexpected places: an old building I passed while walking, a craftsperson’s workshop, or a small shop I happened to discover by chance.
Even today, my design store is just a few minutes’ walk from Orhan Pamuk’s Museum of Innocence.
Of course, I read the novel first. But I must admit that the museum itself was an even more powerful experience for me than the book.
From a designer’s perspective, the Museum of Innocence is not simply a literary museum; it is one of the most compelling examples of how stories can be told through objects.
A coffee cup, an earring, an old photograph, a dress or everyday belongings preserved for years… On their own, these objects may seem ordinary. But when placed within the right context, they become part of a powerful narrative.
That is what moves me most about the museum. Each object is more than an item on display; it feels like a silent witness carrying memories.
Every visit reminds me of the same thing:
Good design is not only about creating beautiful objects; it is about creating memory through objects.
Perhaps that is why I have lost count of how many times I have visited. Each time, I find myself drawn to a different detail and discover a new story.
For anyone who wants to understand Istanbul, I would wholeheartedly recommend not only reading Orhan Pamuk’s books, but also visiting the Museum of Innocence.
Sometimes, the best way to get to know a city is not simply to walk through its streets, but to wander through the stories it tells.
A Designer’s Note
The Museum of Innocence always reminds me of one thing: design is sometimes not about creating a new object, but about giving existing objects new meaning. When placed within the right story, even the most ordinary object can become part of an unforgettable experience.