Mark was sitting awkwardly on his usual spot. Today he had a bit of a crumble on his fair hair. He was looking down more often than he usually does. He seemed uneasy to look up to the eyes of people passing by. He did not even say "hi', nor did he give the comforting feeling of "I'll look after your bike, don't worry". He was indifferent. It was fair. People were usually indifferent to Mark.
The Afr0-Caribbean guy walked in through the door as I was trying to pick up the mozzarella I had dropped on the floor. Hunger was getting to me and I was a bit dizzy by then. By the time I was at the mushrooms basket on the veggie shelves, the Afro-Caribbean went back on the street to collect some more rubbish. He did not look quite happy neither. Was it the weather?
It was a warm spring's night. Overcast as usual but warm, not as good as it was on the weekend. Possibly the strong headwind had them bow their heads? The guys in the local shop were on verbal abuse towards a drunken or a natural-born-tipsy lady. They were usually accommodating towards Mark and the Afro-Caribbean, though. Mark had a shelter under the tree from which he watched the knee-level cruelty.
I don't know the real name of Mark. I just made it up. I probably call him Mark now, because he clearly marks the spot where you can pass by him everyday. He does not ask for much, he is usually taken care of in one way or another. If anything, Mark has his place in this world. I didn't want to call the Afro-Caribbean guy anything, this has got nothing to do with any racial prejudice. He was a ruthless wanderer. Him and Mark were only a couple from the ruthless face of London, and of the warm ruthlesness that mixed so well with the warm spring breeze that touched my legs as Mark looked down once more. At knee-level.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
A Londoner moment
I have repeatedly been claiming that London is not one of the cities I feel myself completely attached to, like I do with Istanbul, Berlin or New York even, recently. However, today, I felt once again that I have somewhat become a Londoner in the last 2 years. It was not an instant of someone asking me directions and I could say it right away, no, I've been having them quite often. It was a much unexpected situation.
I was riding my bicycle from the LSE, where I work, towards Bermondsey, to attend the screening of the docu-drama "The Age of Stupid" held on a boat near a wharf, one of these converted agglomerations by the beautiful Thames riverside, where used to stand large warehouses and shipping facilities. D. had invited me to this event, held by the new ecomonics foundation. I am hoping to write on another entry about my complicated feelings and thoughts over the whole 'green' issue as well as issues of reformation and revolution... However, let me go back to my mini-story here.
I decided to cycle from the north side of the river and take the atmospheric Tower Bridge to cross over the river. It is always a joy to walk over Tower Bridge, but cycling on it is another experience. Thanks to the nice weather and long summer days, I was to have a really nice view passing over it, too. Only a few minutes before I would turn into the bridge 2 cabs almost crashed into each other in front of me, making one maneuver right in front of me, causing me a full stop, followed by a huge truck that could not anticipate my stop and passed my unprotected vehicle and self right at my ear level. After recovering from the shock, I noticed the huge queue of cars before the bridge.
As I switftly rode past the cars, I realised that the bridge was open to allow possibly for a ship to pass and people, cars, and bicycles alike have all stacked on each side of the open bridge. Just by when I got to the bridge the platform closed, the barrier between them lifted and cyclists, in front of all the cars, started pedalling through the bridge. The cars, ever impatient, started taking over some cycles, pedestrians walking on and running away from all vehicles, and tourists taking picture of all of this mess.... And there I was, in the middle of it, cycling through it as this happens every day. I saw so many tourists being so excited about this. Polish tourists (or residents alike) who never dreamt of setting a foot in London years and years ago, Italian kids as they pop up from everywhere, an Indian descent or a south American wanderer. Everyone was taking pictures of what looked like a Tour de France, or a mayhem of cars-cycles, or a mass protest, rolling down Tower Bridge, whilst the sun was setting in the west, over London Bridge, and dying beams of it reflected through the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf in the east.
Unfortunately I do not have any pictures, as I was being taken pictures of. But at that moment, in the middle of all this excitement, I was milly enjoying being observed, keeping my cool and perfect timing of getting on the bridge and trying to make it to my desired place on time. I was like a proper Londoner for that instance, and I have to admit, I liked it.
I was riding my bicycle from the LSE, where I work, towards Bermondsey, to attend the screening of the docu-drama "The Age of Stupid" held on a boat near a wharf, one of these converted agglomerations by the beautiful Thames riverside, where used to stand large warehouses and shipping facilities. D. had invited me to this event, held by the new ecomonics foundation. I am hoping to write on another entry about my complicated feelings and thoughts over the whole 'green' issue as well as issues of reformation and revolution... However, let me go back to my mini-story here.
I decided to cycle from the north side of the river and take the atmospheric Tower Bridge to cross over the river. It is always a joy to walk over Tower Bridge, but cycling on it is another experience. Thanks to the nice weather and long summer days, I was to have a really nice view passing over it, too. Only a few minutes before I would turn into the bridge 2 cabs almost crashed into each other in front of me, making one maneuver right in front of me, causing me a full stop, followed by a huge truck that could not anticipate my stop and passed my unprotected vehicle and self right at my ear level. After recovering from the shock, I noticed the huge queue of cars before the bridge.
As I switftly rode past the cars, I realised that the bridge was open to allow possibly for a ship to pass and people, cars, and bicycles alike have all stacked on each side of the open bridge. Just by when I got to the bridge the platform closed, the barrier between them lifted and cyclists, in front of all the cars, started pedalling through the bridge. The cars, ever impatient, started taking over some cycles, pedestrians walking on and running away from all vehicles, and tourists taking picture of all of this mess.... And there I was, in the middle of it, cycling through it as this happens every day. I saw so many tourists being so excited about this. Polish tourists (or residents alike) who never dreamt of setting a foot in London years and years ago, Italian kids as they pop up from everywhere, an Indian descent or a south American wanderer. Everyone was taking pictures of what looked like a Tour de France, or a mayhem of cars-cycles, or a mass protest, rolling down Tower Bridge, whilst the sun was setting in the west, over London Bridge, and dying beams of it reflected through the skyscrapers of Canary Wharf in the east.
Unfortunately I do not have any pictures, as I was being taken pictures of. But at that moment, in the middle of all this excitement, I was milly enjoying being observed, keeping my cool and perfect timing of getting on the bridge and trying to make it to my desired place on time. I was like a proper Londoner for that instance, and I have to admit, I liked it.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Find the 7 bombs in the pictures
New York, New York... I cannot be any humble on this, as at last, after years of anticipation I got to spend 9 beautiful days with my friends in this amazing city. Not even the bad weather, a mix of crazy humidity, a lot of rain and freak thunderstorms could ruin it. All in all, I could easily say I felt at ease most times with the New Yorkers and had a smooth time with the officials alike. However, there is one incident, maybe the only negative story I'll share in here among many good ones, that I'd like to scribble down before I do the honours later with other blog posts.
On Saturday, 9 May, I woke up to a beautiful morning around Williamsburg in Brooklyn. Before heading to some parks in DUMBO and walking over into Manhattan through Brooklyn Bridge, we were having brunch with D., J. and C. talking about the fine lines between use of public and private spaces and issues of infiltrating into people's private realms through photography. Only 2 days before, on 7 May, I remember taking a picture of a large housing block, of which there was only one window open where a veiled lady was looking down onto the W 57th Street. As I took her picture (or rather the picture of the building) she drew back immediately. At the brunch table on Saturday, C. and J. were saying that you can make a picture of someone at their window and it is their responsibility to draw the curtains to avoid being exposed to the voyeurist's lens. The discussion went further on with gaining access to shooting films and photography on sets and getting the consent of locals, and etc...
In the afternoon, I decided to pay a visit to the Grand Central Station on my own. I've always been fascinated with train stations, as a railroad-commute-lover and the useles wandering arounds, or running into catching trains, or stopping by to catch some breath in train stations have always been part of my interests. For that matter, Sirkeci Train Station in Istanbul also holds an important place in my heart.
As I walked into the Grand Central for the first time and got easily fascinated by the overwhelming non-human scale of the whole "thing" I started to taking pictures of the interiors and the peope alike. I made may way into the train platforms, hoping to catch some more movement. A few poor shots and I walked back into the main concourse. I bought a bunch of cupcakes and made my way into the balconies with the fancy restaurants to have a final elevated view of the space...
At that moment I was approached from behind by a couple of cops with whom we have exchanged the following bizarre conversation:
"Sir, could you please stop?"
I stop.
"There have been complaints from staff that you were taking pictures of the train platforms, can we have a look at the pictures"?
I show them some of the pictures I took as I don't feel the need to end up an interrogation room for losing my calm for nonsense discussion.
"Why have you taken these pictures of the walls and lights, but not the main area or people? These are not pictures that normal tourists would take. Can I please see your ID? Where are you staying, what are you here for, how long are you going to be in New York"...
The rest was the similar treatment that I have gotten experienced to at the 2 stop and search incidents I had in London (2nd of which was accusation of stealing my own bicycle). The sheer differences were that in New York when they wrote down some of my ID details, they did it on a random piece of paper and did not tell me what they would to with them, whereas in London it was on a standard print-paper, a receipt of which I was handed afterwards, clearly stating all my rights (I keep one pink slip of that).
In general, in the States it has felt as if they have more experience in being suspicious but also handling situations. I would rather not mess with the American cops, as in Europe and especially in the UK, there is much greater sense of regulation. However I also have to admit that I despise the hypocritical royal attitude of the officials in the UK, whereby they take every step to make life miserable to people that are not from certain backgrounds (ethnically, or citizenship-wise (eg non-EU, non-US)).
So, after having had this small interrogation, I remembered the morning discussion over public space and asked the cops the following:
"Is there any regulation of taking pictures in here? This is a public space, right?"
I learn that the issue with the train platforms are different, that they are grey zones, that the lawas that once helped shelter the homeless are much tighter now and that they followed me because of taking pictures in the platforms. Well, one of the remarkable quotes they've used in this conversation was:
"The world has changed since the 1980's, right?"
What can I say? I was astonished by the retrospective. What a valid, self-reflective, intellectual criticism of the 1980's neo-liberal led conservative policies. Wish all cops had this edge!
In the meanwhile, can you spot the 7 hidden Usames in the following pictures I took at the station?!
On Saturday, 9 May, I woke up to a beautiful morning around Williamsburg in Brooklyn. Before heading to some parks in DUMBO and walking over into Manhattan through Brooklyn Bridge, we were having brunch with D., J. and C. talking about the fine lines between use of public and private spaces and issues of infiltrating into people's private realms through photography. Only 2 days before, on 7 May, I remember taking a picture of a large housing block, of which there was only one window open where a veiled lady was looking down onto the W 57th Street. As I took her picture (or rather the picture of the building) she drew back immediately. At the brunch table on Saturday, C. and J. were saying that you can make a picture of someone at their window and it is their responsibility to draw the curtains to avoid being exposed to the voyeurist's lens. The discussion went further on with gaining access to shooting films and photography on sets and getting the consent of locals, and etc...
In the afternoon, I decided to pay a visit to the Grand Central Station on my own. I've always been fascinated with train stations, as a railroad-commute-lover and the useles wandering arounds, or running into catching trains, or stopping by to catch some breath in train stations have always been part of my interests. For that matter, Sirkeci Train Station in Istanbul also holds an important place in my heart.
As I walked into the Grand Central for the first time and got easily fascinated by the overwhelming non-human scale of the whole "thing" I started to taking pictures of the interiors and the peope alike. I made may way into the train platforms, hoping to catch some more movement. A few poor shots and I walked back into the main concourse. I bought a bunch of cupcakes and made my way into the balconies with the fancy restaurants to have a final elevated view of the space...
At that moment I was approached from behind by a couple of cops with whom we have exchanged the following bizarre conversation:
"Sir, could you please stop?"
I stop.
"There have been complaints from staff that you were taking pictures of the train platforms, can we have a look at the pictures"?
I show them some of the pictures I took as I don't feel the need to end up an interrogation room for losing my calm for nonsense discussion.
"Why have you taken these pictures of the walls and lights, but not the main area or people? These are not pictures that normal tourists would take. Can I please see your ID? Where are you staying, what are you here for, how long are you going to be in New York"...
The rest was the similar treatment that I have gotten experienced to at the 2 stop and search incidents I had in London (2nd of which was accusation of stealing my own bicycle). The sheer differences were that in New York when they wrote down some of my ID details, they did it on a random piece of paper and did not tell me what they would to with them, whereas in London it was on a standard print-paper, a receipt of which I was handed afterwards, clearly stating all my rights (I keep one pink slip of that).
In general, in the States it has felt as if they have more experience in being suspicious but also handling situations. I would rather not mess with the American cops, as in Europe and especially in the UK, there is much greater sense of regulation. However I also have to admit that I despise the hypocritical royal attitude of the officials in the UK, whereby they take every step to make life miserable to people that are not from certain backgrounds (ethnically, or citizenship-wise (eg non-EU, non-US)).
So, after having had this small interrogation, I remembered the morning discussion over public space and asked the cops the following:
"Is there any regulation of taking pictures in here? This is a public space, right?"
I learn that the issue with the train platforms are different, that they are grey zones, that the lawas that once helped shelter the homeless are much tighter now and that they followed me because of taking pictures in the platforms. Well, one of the remarkable quotes they've used in this conversation was:
"The world has changed since the 1980's, right?"
What can I say? I was astonished by the retrospective. What a valid, self-reflective, intellectual criticism of the 1980's neo-liberal led conservative policies. Wish all cops had this edge!
In the meanwhile, can you spot the 7 hidden Usames in the following pictures I took at the station?!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
How do we debate urban design today?
A while ago, M. sent me an article from the New York Times: Rethinking Postwar Design in London. Reflected through the Robin Hood Gardens (1), a post-war social housing estate built in the early 1970's, the article analyses the successes and failures (but rather failures) of post-war design in the rush to build amidst a housing crisis. It then tries to bring contemporary solutions, by means of various design interventions, to tackle the issue without hurting too much an important part of a London identity created around the plethora of this new typology (the post-war housing) and taking into consideration sustainability and environmental issues: "Construction is one of the largest single producers of carbon dioxide. In the age of global warming, deciding to tear down and rebuild rather than think through whether a project can be salvaged has obvious ethical implications".
F. is working on her final project at Central Saint Martins College of Art & Design and has taken a large social housing estate in the northeastern part of London, near Manor House: Woodberry Down Estate (2). The estate is beautifully located aroud the East and West Reservoir water basins but the fate of the estate has never been so poor. The area has an interesting story of becoming from one of the wealthier neighbourhoods of the area occupied by Jewish families, and then being compulsorily purchased by the London County Council for this quite large post-war housing development, completed in 1962. I have once been to the estate, now going through major regeneration led by Hackney Homes association. Some of the larger white houses to the south of the estate are in appalling conditions, some flats with no proper windows and the walls and the doors falling apart, revealing the interiors of the houses, probably freezing in the cold harsh winter breeze.
Yesterday afternoon we had a team meeting over a new study we wish to carry out in the office. Without going into too much detail, I can say that it is mainly to do with energy efficiency and building typologies. During consideration of what samples to examine from London's architectural heritage, we came to speak about post-war typology as a prominent one, discussing the failures of poor design and construction methods, that fail to satisfy neither the quality of life the tenants deserve today, nor the visual attractiveness the city deserves. However, in their own senses, social housing estates are realities of today's London. Living in one of them, I could not be closer to this reality than any other.
We usually make comparisons of different surroundings in big cities like London. They help us compare and contrast various projects in terms of urban form, city identity, connectivity, social assets, visual appeal, standards of living and more. The street layouts of Georgian housing communities may be greener, and more sustainable in the long-term but definitely appeal to a more individualistic and wealthier lifestyle that cease to exist in a city of today's deep global crisis, in which is now embedded are the hundreds of communities of different social backgrounds. A housing block behind a major road can give you the convenience of sociability and easy access to communal amenities but they usually are located in the impoverished and distant areas of towns.
One particular point I come across that we sometimes fail to realise in our discussions is to make fair judgments of developments in the recent urban heritage in their respective contemporary environments. A high-school friend, E., was here last summer for a few months to do an internship with a design-led sustainable small enterprise, through which he published some writings and presented a witty presentation that included a critic of single-dimension state-led design in the immediate post-war Britain (in Turkish). One of the points he eventually touched upon that relates to my point here was the desperation of the state in a financial wreck, trying to overcome a major housing shortage in a very short time. However, are we giving a fair account of the deals when looking at the appaling states of some of the day's housing solutions given the necessities of its time? Or, rather, is there a good range of discussion carried out over both the good and the bad (and eventually the ugly) examples of what was built in the post-war era, to understand whether some of the solutions did actually work its way until today?
One of today's major discussion points is the 'green' future. We have recently seen that some of the recent ambitious proposals by today's construction and developers pioneers have gone to the waste. A year has passed since Arup had to leak the news that the Dongtan project was to be halted, and today it seems like it is lost forever. Coincidentially, states are in line to boost their 'green' ambitions in the wake of the global financial crisis. However, here in Britain, there is a new urban 'crisis' that seems to set a new discussion has gone the wrong way again.
Analysing different qualities of different forms built over centuries, without taking into account the span of time and different motives behind each era is the biggest tyranny of an urban historian. Studying an historical era, I believe the historian's main to be to understand the all dynamics of the day in order to syringe out which strategies were carried out to come up with the best solution for the existing circumstances of the day. Only, this way, can we reflect on today's problems and propose potentially succesful interventions.
Robin Hood Gardens
F. is working on her final project at Central Saint Martins College of Art & Design and has taken a large social housing estate in the northeastern part of London, near Manor House: Woodberry Down Estate (2). The estate is beautifully located aroud the East and West Reservoir water basins but the fate of the estate has never been so poor. The area has an interesting story of becoming from one of the wealthier neighbourhoods of the area occupied by Jewish families, and then being compulsorily purchased by the London County Council for this quite large post-war housing development, completed in 1962. I have once been to the estate, now going through major regeneration led by Hackney Homes association. Some of the larger white houses to the south of the estate are in appalling conditions, some flats with no proper windows and the walls and the doors falling apart, revealing the interiors of the houses, probably freezing in the cold harsh winter breeze.
Yesterday afternoon we had a team meeting over a new study we wish to carry out in the office. Without going into too much detail, I can say that it is mainly to do with energy efficiency and building typologies. During consideration of what samples to examine from London's architectural heritage, we came to speak about post-war typology as a prominent one, discussing the failures of poor design and construction methods, that fail to satisfy neither the quality of life the tenants deserve today, nor the visual attractiveness the city deserves. However, in their own senses, social housing estates are realities of today's London. Living in one of them, I could not be closer to this reality than any other.
We usually make comparisons of different surroundings in big cities like London. They help us compare and contrast various projects in terms of urban form, city identity, connectivity, social assets, visual appeal, standards of living and more. The street layouts of Georgian housing communities may be greener, and more sustainable in the long-term but definitely appeal to a more individualistic and wealthier lifestyle that cease to exist in a city of today's deep global crisis, in which is now embedded are the hundreds of communities of different social backgrounds. A housing block behind a major road can give you the convenience of sociability and easy access to communal amenities but they usually are located in the impoverished and distant areas of towns.
One particular point I come across that we sometimes fail to realise in our discussions is to make fair judgments of developments in the recent urban heritage in their respective contemporary environments. A high-school friend, E., was here last summer for a few months to do an internship with a design-led sustainable small enterprise, through which he published some writings and presented a witty presentation that included a critic of single-dimension state-led design in the immediate post-war Britain (in Turkish). One of the points he eventually touched upon that relates to my point here was the desperation of the state in a financial wreck, trying to overcome a major housing shortage in a very short time. However, are we giving a fair account of the deals when looking at the appaling states of some of the day's housing solutions given the necessities of its time? Or, rather, is there a good range of discussion carried out over both the good and the bad (and eventually the ugly) examples of what was built in the post-war era, to understand whether some of the solutions did actually work its way until today?
One of today's major discussion points is the 'green' future. We have recently seen that some of the recent ambitious proposals by today's construction and developers pioneers have gone to the waste. A year has passed since Arup had to leak the news that the Dongtan project was to be halted, and today it seems like it is lost forever. Coincidentially, states are in line to boost their 'green' ambitions in the wake of the global financial crisis. However, here in Britain, there is a new urban 'crisis' that seems to set a new discussion has gone the wrong way again.
Analysing different qualities of different forms built over centuries, without taking into account the span of time and different motives behind each era is the biggest tyranny of an urban historian. Studying an historical era, I believe the historian's main to be to understand the all dynamics of the day in order to syringe out which strategies were carried out to come up with the best solution for the existing circumstances of the day. Only, this way, can we reflect on today's problems and propose potentially succesful interventions.
1.
Robin Hood Gardens
2.
Woodberry Down Estate
Woodberry Down Estate
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Small intervention for the street sign on St. Antoine Church, Taksim
The street sign of Istiklal Caddesi stands overwhelmingly imposing with its shiny red backgorund over the sign depicting the name of this St. Antoine Church in Taksim. Whether this has got anything to do with ideology or not is another question but in the meanwhile, can we not think of a simple solution to this urban problem?
Instead of occupying one of the 2 columns at the gate of this beautiful and famous Catholic church in Taksim area, and overwhelming the placard depicting the name of the church....
Can we not think of putting that street sign (in a slightly smaller size) to the other column nearby which is vacant?
And in doing so, come from this:
Instead of occupying one of the 2 columns at the gate of this beautiful and famous Catholic church in Taksim area, and overwhelming the placard depicting the name of the church....
And in doing so, come from this:
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Mr. Yellowrose, did you forget to take your rubbish with you?
Mustafa Sarigul (last name translates: Yellow Rose) had knocked on the door of my family house for the first time quite a long while ago (about 10 years). He was touring the whole district of Sisli with various colours of roses in his hand, introducing himself as the new, young candidate for the District Municipal Mayor in the 1999 local elections. Ever since he has been elected 3 times in a row, switching from the Democratic Left Party (DSP) to the Republican People's Party (CHP), and back to the DSP for the recent elections.
He won over 50% of the votes once again and remains to be a popular figure in Sisli. He is welcome both by the liberal rich due to his impressive investment in entertainment features on special occasions, investment in high-end retail development, as well as among the urban poor where he spends public money into improving schools and creating new facilities for the elderly.
However, he is also majorly criticised for paving the way for monopolisation of development in the district as well as allowing for rent-seeking policies that may end up in corruption claims.
Just 3 days after his re-election, I happened to walk by what is depicted in the pictures below. Please be reminded that the rubbish here lies just across the new, posh shopping mall "City's" and by another high-end hotel. It is also very close to the childhood home of Orhan Pamuk. Well, there may be more than one reason for why that rubbish lay so peacefully and stinky thereabouts...
He won over 50% of the votes once again and remains to be a popular figure in Sisli. He is welcome both by the liberal rich due to his impressive investment in entertainment features on special occasions, investment in high-end retail development, as well as among the urban poor where he spends public money into improving schools and creating new facilities for the elderly.
However, he is also majorly criticised for paving the way for monopolisation of development in the district as well as allowing for rent-seeking policies that may end up in corruption claims.
Just 3 days after his re-election, I happened to walk by what is depicted in the pictures below. Please be reminded that the rubbish here lies just across the new, posh shopping mall "City's" and by another high-end hotel. It is also very close to the childhood home of Orhan Pamuk. Well, there may be more than one reason for why that rubbish lay so peacefully and stinky thereabouts...
"It stinks of my Mayoral election candidates here..." - Mr. Yellowrose
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