The project redefines the fair and congress centre not as a venue solely dedicated to the display of international objects, but as a living surface where everyday life, nature, and social encounters are also exhibited. This living surface becomes a hillscape that harmonises with its surrounding green areas, parks, and cultural heritage. Drawing upon Marc Augé’s concept of the “non-place,” the design constructs a performative and activity-oriented atmosphere in contrast to the industrial and uniform architectural context surrounding the site. It offers a re-place proposal that seeks to generate belonging and lived experience, rather than remaining in the anonymity and permeability of non-place. At its essence, architecture here is not the production of a conventional building but a strategic act of place-making. It is a re-place.

​​​The design moves beyond conventional masterplanning. It offers multi-scalar strategies that integrate water cycles, biodiversity corridors, pedestrian access, and local participation. By restoring riverbeds, removing harmful viaducts, and redefining mobility around slowness and access, the project builds a continuous, living shoreline that reconnects Hopa’s neighbourhoods to its coast. ​ Rather than viewing the land as a resource to be controlled, the proposal embraces a Heideggerian ethic of dwelling, a way of being with the earth, not over it. This approach reframes planning as care: for water, for community, for every living and non-living presence in the landscape. ​ Ultimately, this is not only a spatial proposal, it is an ecopolitical manifesto. Hopa becomes a prototype for coastal towns across the Black Sea that seek to move beyond extraction and control, toward coexistence and resilience. The project asks: What if planning began not with construction, but with listening to water, memory, and the more than human world?

​The primary concept for intervention in the design area is to highlight the region's distinctive natural characteristics, including its rocky formations and endemic plant species unique to the foothills of Mount Erciyes, as central elements of the landscape. The vision is to create an urban park that draws inspiration from and pays homage to the area's cultural and geographical heritage. The park design leverages the natural topography, utilizing elevation differences and slopes to integrate fragmented and scattered architectural programs. This strategy fosters a dynamic relationship between the urban fabric and the cultural landscape, ensuring a harmonious balance between built structures and the natural environment.

Podgorica is a city where rivers still flow gently through the plains, where forest paths wind around low hills, and where traces of everyday life linger among trees, gardens and cultivated land. Despite the pressure of uncontrolled urban growth, this landscape continues to breathe. The people of Podgorica still meet by the riverbanks, tend small plots of land, and walk under the shade of forest canopies. This project begins with a simple yet vital question. Can we still protect and nourish this delicate balance between the city and its natural rhythms? Our answer is an open invitation to reconnect. The Forest Park of Leškopoljska Gorica is imagined not just as a park but as part of a living and growing urban ecology. It is a place where the forest enters the city and the city listens back. The design does not stop at the boundaries of the site. It reaches outward, weaving together agricultural knowledge, water cycles and forest life. It proposes three intertwined strategies that grow from the needs of the land and the lives around it: Urban Forestry, Water Management and Agricultural Practice. Through these, the park becomes more than green space. It becomes a shared ground for memory, care and continuity.

Performance is often framed as a dynamic act of movement and subjectivity, yet its spatial expression has long been confined to closed “auditoria.” This design deliberately dissolves that confinement. It aims to unravel architecture’s pre-packaged program and extend performative voids from the city’s underground networks to the thresholds of everyday local life, reaching for a new urban magnitude. If we recall Marc Augé’s familiar concept of the “non-place,” this project seeks to fold, multiply, and spatialize that figure, turning it into a volume where subjectivities can confront, overlap, and emerge. Can a public space become performative precisely by embracing uncertainty, where the ground is slippery, the boundaries blurred, and questions more present than answers? This design leans into that ambiguity, framing it not as a problem but as potential. Rather than proposing rational solutions to one of Istanbul’s most contested urban sites, shaped by cycles of demolition and construction, the project turns to what truly constitutes the city: the encounter. Through an interplay of open, semi-enclosed, and interior spaces, it fosters situations where the unplanned and the unexpected can take form. As a potential core for Istanbul’s speculative performative ecosystem, this proposal anchors itself in a spatial magnitude where urban agency is suspended, stretched, and revealed. In doing so, it moves away from the dominant model of the “art hub” as a closed, central, and over-determined venue.

In Ürgüp, deep within the unique landscapes of Cappadocia, the ground carries more than just weight. It holds memory, time and touch. This is a place where dust is not only a material but a witness. The terrain is soft, layered, and always in motion — shaped by wind, water, and centuries of life lived in close contact with the earth. This project begins by listening to that fragile terrain. Set on the former bus terminal site in Ürgüp, it reimagines a public space not as a flat surface but as a porous ground. One that responds to the town’s dual levels, to the bazaar above and the shaded parks below, weaving them together into a continuous civic fabric. Drawing from the architectural language of the region, the design proposes timber frames, shaded arcades and stepped terraces that echo the spatial rhythms of Ürgüp without imitating them. Materials are left exposed. Earth, tuff and stone speak directly, inviting the body to move with the slope of the land. Rather than offering a polished square, the project unfolds like a quiet conversation with the geography. It proposes a civic space where one can walk slowly, rest in shade, share a meal or encounter others — all while remaining aware of the soft geology underfoot. This is a space that does not resist erosion but grows with it. A public ground shaped by Ürgüp’s dust and light, held gently between its stone edges. A space that belongs not only to the city’s future but also to its ground.

This project is developed as a spatial response to the idea that cities are not fixed systems but continuously shifting environments of intensity, friction and transformation, where architecture no longer serves as a frame for order but becomes an active participant in the production of spatial energy. The proposal draws upon a historical incident that temporarily redefined the spatial dynamics of Venice during the 1989 Pink Floyd concert, when the city's traditional logic collapsed under the weight of collective presence and temporary occupation, leading to an ambiguous moment of spatial reprogramming. Rather than designing a conventional civic square or organizing space through predetermined functions, the project introduces a structural condition that performs more like an amplifier than a container, absorbing signals from the urban environment and returning them as intensified spatial and social experiences. The design operates through affect, material vibration, acoustic distribution and visual disturbance, forming a dynamic and unresolved architectural language that resists stability and finality. Machine Architecture does not establish a singular function, typology or identity but remains open to reinterpretation, allowing it to behave differently depending on temporal occupation, collective mood and contextual transformation. It is not a building in the traditional sense, nor a landmark or monument, but a medium through which the city can express its latent energies and contradictions. Engaging with the city as a field of signals, densities and delays, the structure acts as a relay between movement and stasis, noise and silence, public desire and architectural presence. Through this condition, the project suggests a different understanding of public space, where architecture is no longer the resolution of urban complexity but the catalyst that sustains and magnifies it.

The project proposes a mode of reading and imagining the territory as a living network of seasonal cycles, species movements, agricultural rhythms, local knowledge, spatial memories and infrastructural histories. The design does not search for a final form but generates spatial suggestions by navigating through this constantly shifting field of relations, seeing the lagoon not as an empty site to be programmed but as a dense life world that unfolds over time. These atlases are not maps of control or measurement but poetic tools of orientation that aim to reveal the coexistence of water bodies, sedimentation patterns, faunal corridors, cultivated grounds, social rituals and atmospheric conditions. They allow one to think of space not as fixed surface but as a process of negotiation between humans and non-humans, between visible traces and invisible forces, between presence and absence. Ultimately, this project is not a fixed design but an open invitation to think with the lagoon rather than about it, proposing that architecture can operate not by defining spaces but by expanding the possibilities of shared inhabitation through ethical attention and poetic engagement.

This project is an experiment in spatial intimacy: a mescit embedded within a public park, surrounded by the flows of everyday life. ​ It deliberately avoids the formal hierarchies of the traditional mosque, from the mihrab to the courtyard, from ablution to the minaret. These layers are loosened. Instead of sanctifying fixed social orders, the design embraces the temporality of social life, its rhythms, interruptions, and informalities. The mescit becomes a vessel for inner stillness, not through isolation, but through integration. It is not an object set apart, but a tectonic clearing, a space carved within, not erected above. ​ Fragments of structure spill gently into the park. The sloped terrain is not overcome, but inhabited. The earth itself becomes the platform for worship and gathering. While the inner core of the mescit offers a space of prayer, the design extends outward, into a network of everyday uses. It opens up to the park not as an edge but as a continuity. ​ The architecture is composed of excavated walls, thicknesses, niches, and the interstices they create. Around the central prayer space, tectonic fragments hover ambiguously between being part of the park or the mescit, blurring that very distinction. ​

The Av. Mehmet Altun Educational Campus is a comprehensive learning environment composed of a kindergarten, primary school, middle school, and high school, designed as an integrated whole. Located adjacent to Talas City Park, the project is deeply rooted in its geographic and ecological context. The design strategy seeks to extend the green footprint of the park into the campus, creating a continuous landscape that supports both educational and recreational activities. Rather than following the conventional model of institutional campuses defined by expansive concrete surfaces and rigid architectural expressions, this project envisions a series of bright white buildings with playful and colorful façades immersed in lush green surroundings. This spatial arrangement not only softens the boundary between built and natural environments but also fosters a sense of openness and well-being among students. The campus includes a variety of open green areas and gardens designed to accommodate learning, play, and sports activities. These outdoor spaces serve as extensions of indoor classrooms and provide students with opportunities for exploration, interaction, and rest throughout the day. Special attention has been given to visual transparency, cross ventilation, and shaded walkways to enhance environmental comfort and spatial quality across the site.

This proposal approaches the centennial memorial not as a static object of national pride but as a living urban surface that engages the city in acts of collective memory. Instead of separating commemoration from daily life, it reimagines the ground as a civic medium where remembrance and presence unfold together. The design creates a spatial condition that invites multiple forms of participation including mourning, gathering, reflection, and celebration. Its gently folded topography does not claim authority through height or mass but through its openness to being used, changed, and inhabited. The surface adapts to public rhythms rather than dictating fixed narratives. Memory here is not represented but practiced. It becomes a civic action shaped by encounter, conflict, and shared temporality. The monument does not speak in one voice but resonates with the polyphony of its users. By merging the past with the immediacy of the present, the project refuses monumental silence in favor of a dynamic and plural space of becoming. This is a place not only to remember what was but to engage with what might still be written together.

This project envisions a new kind of urban publicness by proposing the “meadow” not as a decorative landscape component but as a spatial strategy that brings together wild vegetation, everyday encounters, and open-ended public use. Unlike conventional parks which often rely on a controlled and homogeneous design language, the meadow is defined by its mixture of untamed plant life, non-linear edges, and the capacity to accommodate spontaneous communal life. Its form and program emerge not from a top-down imposition of functions but from an intimate reading of the site’s latent potential, social flows, and ecological texture. Situated in the Talas Mevlana District, where urban growth has led to a pattern of large, fragmented housing blocks and residual green pockets, the project resists the reduction of open space to leftover land or fixed recreational zoning. Instead, it transforms the central void into a porous and adaptable ground that simultaneously absorbs the surrounding market, mosque, school, and housing programs, while also offering a loose spatial field for informal activities such as seasonal gatherings, open-air cinemas, local football matches, or simply rest under shade. The meadow becomes the project's conceptual and material core, around which plazas, terraced gardens, public arcades, and soft thresholds are arranged, forming a continuum that links everyday life to collective memory. The surrounding hardscape integrates local commercial flows, while the vegetation palette evolves from wild native plants at the center to more organized plantings toward the urban periphery, articulating a gentle transition between wilderness and the city. In this sense, the meadow is not merely a landscape gesture but a public apparatus — one that absorbs contradictions, welcomes conflict, enables gathering, and encourages coexistence without enclosing or prescribing fixed uses.

Alaeddin Hill in Konya constitutes the historical core of the city a stratified topography that embodies the memory of successive civilizations from antiquity to the present. This elevated mound functions simultaneously as an archaeological tell, an urban park and a symbolic civic landmark. The design proposes a comprehensive spatial strategy that rearticulates the hill’s role within the city through infrastructural, landscape and curatorial interventions. The project establishes a continuous urban ground that reconnects the fragmented periphery of the hill to key public axes including Mevlana Street and Zafer Square. By removing road barriers and reorganizing the surrounding green areas the intervention enhances pedestrian accessibility and redefines the hill as a civic anchor within Konya’s contemporary urban life. At the interface between city and mound a linear open-air exhibition route is introduced tracing the archaeological findings and proposing a new museological model that dissolves the boundaries between street park and curated space. This path integrates timber structures that host permanent exhibitions and mark the presence of the Inner Castle while avoiding physical reconstruction. At the upper plateau the design introduces a circular wooden terrace and an open meadow which serves as a space for public gatherings performances and informal encounters. These interventions are conceived to preserve the integrity of the archaeological landscape while enabling a renewed form of urban appropriation. The project articulates a hybrid spatial system composed of street square museum and park which collectively reconstruct a public imagination of the hill as both a place of memory and contemporary civic engagement. Rather than monumentalising the past the design foregrounds coexistence circulation and encounter as active modes of remembering and becoming. ...

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