Let's take a walk in
Baglarbasi, on the Asian side of Istanbul. Historically, this place was inhabited mostly by Greeks and Armenians. Today, hovewer, it is overrun by posh shopping centers, office buildings and housing projects. While on my way to Kadikoy this week, I took a random stroll through the back-streets of Baglarbasi. I was confronted with some of the most spectacular traces of Istanbul's old residents.
A beautiful Greek house stands deserted and vandalized, next to a more recent piece-of-shit apartment building. No one can restore or live in structures like this because their owners are probably still living in Athens or Thessaloniki.
I was walking aimlessly, expecting to see more old buildings ruined or destroyed. Instead, I came face to face with one of the biggest active Greek monasteries still left in Istanbul. Behold the Profiti Ilias, built in 1831 by Greek stonemasons from Rhodes.
This church houses one of the biggest collections of religious icons and texts in Istanbul. It also has a separate chapel inside for weddings. Too bad I wasn't allowed inside.
The monastery also operated the Profiti Greek School right across the street, but it was burned down and destroyed in the
Istanbul Pogrom of 1955. In the 1980's, it was restored and re-opened as the Gönül Tuna School of Music. Well, at least it isn't a
total loss...
Some more houses, this time Turkish, that have escaped the ravages of time and nationalism. I think you can tell the difference between Turkish and Greek structures now. Both have their own beauty and elegance, but I still find the neoclassical Greek style more attractive.
Of course, no old house is complete without a cheerful old
nine or
gia gia sitting at the door.
Silent Hill, Baglarbasi Edition: This is possibly the scariest-looking dwelling I've seen in a long time. Its sheet-iron covering and one room/two stories plan is so bizarre that I can't tell if it's Greek, Turkish, Armenian, Jewish or something else of origin, let alone if it was built ten years ago, or a hundred...
Someone still lives there... and nails old Zeki Müren recordings to the window sides.
The way to the future: Sadly, some recent immigrants have been engaging in an architectural gang-bang with the district's unique past for the last ten years, be it with windowless, Lovecraftian horrors such as this...
...or worse still, crappy mosaic-covered apartments that dispense with building codes, architectural styles and human comfort altogether.
Sometimes, the mosaic horror reaches levels that make one want to gouge his eyes out. Where's a block-busting Tomahawk missile when you need one?
Despite the threat of urban rape, renevation plans have been saving places like Baglarbasi for the past five years. Here, happy kids are playing by a wonderfully-restored Greek building, now serving as a kindergarten. The history of Turkification is indeed a sad one, but at least people are taking care of others' heritage, instead of ignoring and even purposefully destroying it as they have done for the past six decades.
Let's take a walk in Baglarbasi, on the Asian side of Istanbul. Historically, this place was inhabited mostly by Greeks and Armenians. Today, hovewer, it is overrun by posh shopping centers, office buildings and housing projects. While on my way to Kadikoy this week, I took a random stroll through the back-streets of Baglarbasi. I was confronted with some of the most spectacular traces of Istanbul's old residents.
A beautiful Greek house stands deserted and vandalized, next to a more recent piece-of-shit apartment building. No one can restore or live in structures like this because their owners are probably still living in Athens or Thessaloniki.
I was walking aimlessly, expecting to see more old buildings ruined or destroyed. Instead, I came face to face with one of the biggest active Greek monasteries still left in Istanbul. Behold the Profiti Ilias, built in 1831 by Greek stonemasons from Rhodes.
This church houses one of the biggest collections of religious icons and texts in Istanbul. It also has a separate chapel inside for weddings. Too bad I wasn't allowed inside.
The monastery also operated the Profiti Greek School right across the street, but it was burned down and destroyed in the Istanbul Pogrom of 1955. In the 1980's, it was restored and re-opened as the Gönül Tuna School of Music. Well, at least it isn't a total loss...
Some more houses, this time Turkish, that have escaped the ravages of time and nationalism. I think you can tell the difference between Turkish and Greek structures now. Both have their own beauty and elegance, but I still find the neoclassical Greek style more attractive.
Of course, no old house is complete without a cheerful old nine or gia gia sitting at the door.
Silent Hill, Baglarbasi Edition: This is possibly the scariest-looking dwelling I've seen in a long time. Its sheet-iron covering and one room/two stories plan is so bizarre that I can't tell if it's Greek, Turkish, Armenian, Jewish or something else of origin, let alone if it was built ten years ago, or a hundred...
Someone still lives there... and nails old Zeki Müren recordings to the window sides.
The way to the future: Sadly, some recent immigrants have been engaging in an architectural gang-bang with the district's unique past for the last ten years, be it with windowless, Lovecraftian horrors such as this...
...or worse still, crappy mosaic-covered apartments that dispense with building codes, architectural styles and human comfort altogether.
Sometimes, the mosaic horror reaches levels that make one want to gouge his eyes out. Where's a block-busting Tomahawk missile when you need one?
Despite the threat of urban rape, renevation plans have been saving places like Baglarbasi for the past five years. Here, happy kids are playing by a wonderfully-restored Greek building, now serving as a kindergarten. The history of Turkification is indeed a sad one, but at least people are taking care of others' heritage, instead of ignoring and even purposefully destroying it as they have done for the past six decades.
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