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Commercial

Botanic Garden and Landscape Design

ISTANBUL AIRPORT – Arena for Unifree Duty Free

Art Line İstanbul

ISTANBUL AIRPORT-Unending Technology for Unifree Duty Free

İstanbul Golden Horn Waterfront Landscape Design

Communication Tower Architectural Design Istanbul

KOSBAŞ-Free Trade Zone -İZMİT

Qazvin Hotel and Shopping Mall

North Cyprus-Denizbank Headquarters and Branch Concept

Atapark Shopping Mall Ataşehir

BESAŞ – Bread Factory Bursa

Fish and Seafood Wholesale Market

Shopping Mall Extension in Istanbul

Tariş Administration Building

Yasem Administration Building

Waterfront Revitalization -Yokohoma -Kaigon Dori-

Mediapark Cologne Germany

Ponto del Academia

Ferris Wheel

Belgrad Forest Social Facility Istanbul

Wholesale Greengrocers Ankara

“Relationship” – The Staircase as a Palimpse

“Relationship” – The Staircase as a Palimpsest of Movement
There is hardly an invention in human cultural history that is more banal yet more metaphysical than the staircase. The ascent, the descent, the movement between levels, the overcoming of gravity through the mere geometry of steps — all this is as old as the human need to assert itself in the vertical. In the office of TCA, hidden within a historic building in the winding old town of Galata, Istanbul, this story comes alive in a new form: as “Relationship.”
One might be tempted to read the word “Relationship” too sentimentally. Yet what is a staircase if not a relationship? A relationship between above and below, between the first step and the last, between the body that walks it and the space it cuts through. In this case, the staircase is more than just a functional construction. It is a palimpsest: a place where the past, present, and future are interwoven.
What is particularly remarkable is the material: the remnants of old wooden floors — in a sense, the archive of the building — were not discarded but brought back into circulation. In an age when the word “recycling” is mostly reduced to a moral obligation, here the discarded becomes a new web of meaning.
Thus, from these fragments grows a structure that is more than merely statically functional: it becomes a walkable narrative. The staircase bears what it tells. It bears the memory of the felled tree, the plank in the floor, the first step of a resident centuries ago. And it bears the body that walks it today — each time forming a new, individual relationship with this wooden weave.
And so, “Relationship” rises from the darkness of the ground floor to the brightness of the upper level like a band linking the familiar and the past with the step into the new. A walk upon these steps is more than mere movement: it is a quiet dialogue with the material, the space, and time — and, in the end, perhaps, with ourselves.

#stairs #stairdesign #relationship #relation #architecture

A Sign in the Landscape An Essay about a House Tha

A Sign in the Landscape
An Essay about a House That Wishes to Be More Than a House

There are places where things do not merely exists, but instead carry meaning—as though part of an alphabet that only the patient can read. The mountains above Lugano are such a place. The air is thinner here, yes—but not only in a physical sense. The gaze, the thought, even history itself seem clarified here, stripped bare, almost archaic.
The landscape—let us call it semantically complete—is made up of fragments of memory: dry-stone walls, weathered timber beams, roofs crouching like animals in hibernation. The architecture that has survived here for centuries is not mere shelter, but a manifestation of topography, an echo of slope and sun, of alpine silence.
The client—wise, daring, or perhaps both—did not desire a bland volume, a typological cliché. He envisioned a sign, a built form that would exist not only in physical space, but in cultural space as well. Something to inhabit, observe, and question. A holiday house, yes—but also a semantic event.
The result: an oval volume, somewhere between nautilus shell and spacecraft, between primordial egg and American football. This form—curved, gliding, soft—resists Cartesian logic, defies the right angle. It is an architectural “perhaps.”
And yet it is precise: prefabricated in a workshop, crafted from sustainable wood, accurate like a Swiss timepiece, delivered by helicopter—an act of logistical choreography. One might say: a modern myth.
Each apartment is an autonomous narrative. Spaces that unfold not by norm, but by intention. Interiors that not only function, but signify.

And so it stands, this building. Not a foreign object—but not a chameleon either. It does not crouch, but it does not shout.
For architecture is not only what is built. Architecture is what is told—about place, about people, about time. This house in the heights of Lugano is such a telling. Perhaps not an easy text. But a necessary one.
#architecture #wood #woodworking #shingle #lugano #switzerland

The Threshold of the City – The Design for the C

The Threshold of the City – The Design for the Cruise Port in Kaohsiung
A port is not merely a place of logistics – it is a threshold. Like airports and train stations, it marks the transition between the familiar and the unknown, between the now and the after. Here, hope and farewell meet. Joy and melancholy coexist. In these fleeting yet profound moments, space becomes the vessel of inner emotions.
The design for the cruise port in Khosing embraces this idea: it is not a terminal in the purely functional sense, but an architectural narrative of arrival and departure. Openness and retreat, vastness and shelter – these are not opposites, but complementary experiences.
Material, light, space, and direction come together not to impress, but to compose a quiet dramaturgy of transition. The architecture remembers: the salt in the air, the horizon of the sea, past journeys and beginnings yet to come. It does not speak loudly – but it speaks.
For the true gates of a city are those places where we feel that we are leaving or arriving – not just physically, but with everything we are.

#taiwan #cruise #port #design #architecture #sea #city

Fishmongers Deep Cool Storage ~ TCA Design #fish

Fishmongers Deep Cool Storage
~ TCA Design

#fish #fishing #fishmongers #fishmarket #coolstorage #design #storage #fypage #fypreel

A Greenhouse for the Mind – On TCA’s Design fo

A Greenhouse for the Mind – On TCA’s Design for the West Kowloon Cultural District
There are places whose histories are not written in stone but inscribed in the spaces between. West Kowloon—this slender edge between megastructures and the sea, between high-rise and horizon—is such a place. Here, the narrative of everyday Cantonese life intertwines with the long shadow of British colonial architecture; here, the rising tide of China’s modernity collides with the memory of the South. What, then, can architecture mean in such a place?
TCA responds not with noise, but with clarity—a semiotic body that speaks softly, yet unmistakably. The linear hall they propose stretches as a horizontal gesture, threading itself calmly between the towers and the harbor. This is not a building in the conventional sense, but rather a mode of being, a space of possibility.
One could say it is a greenhouse—not only for plants, but for the human need for culture, exchange, and deceleration. It shelters without isolating, frames without constraining. And in a city where the logic of living often resembles that of survival—with towers as tall as they are anonymous—this space becomes a place for collective breathing.
The idea that a hall can be simultaneously open and closed, specific and flexible, is not new. We saw it in the medieval market halls of Europe—in Florence, Bologna, perhaps even in the Roman basilicas. Now, in West Kowloon, that idea returns in a new language: as urban landscape, stage, and quiet mediator between water and city.
But what is a space without its surroundings? TCA does not stop at the structure; it extends the narrative into the open. The landscape design, dense with vegetation, elevated walkways, and floating paths, is no mere embellishment—it is a counter-image to the city’s density. This is not just escape—it is reconnection: to walking, to seeing, to pausing.
Under TCA’s vision, the West Kowloon Cultural District becomes a readable space: one may walk through it as if reading a poem, linger as in a library, encounter one another as on a stage.
#westkowloon #westkowloonculturaldistrict #design #3dmodels

Between Two Altars: Ecumenism as an Architecture o

Between Two Altars: Ecumenism as an Architecture of Hope

Throughout the long history of humankind, religion has been both: the invisible thread that binds millions—and the sword that cuts them apart. That faith in the same God has led to war is no longer a paradox, but a historical pattern.
The split between Catholics and Protestants—two faces of the same Christian origin—was never merely a doctrinal disagreement over justification, the Eucharist, or indulgences. It was, like every schism, a psychological act. A quiet mistrust that found its way into physical form: separate churches, separate rituals, separate families.
The apple of discord thrown by Luther into the Roman window did not only lodge itself in the Vatican; it rolled into the living rooms of ordinary believers. And when a Catholic daughter fell in love with a Protestant boy, not only the heart trembled, but the foundation of family peace. A wedding—the moment of unity—became a stage for difference. Two denominations, one promise—but which altar?
The Ecumenical Church in Karlsruhe-Oberreut is not just a building. It is a thought cast in stone, a semantic bridge between theological languages. It carries within it a paradoxical idea: separation that enables unity. Two prayer rooms—back to back—like twins who cannot see each other, but share the same heartbeat. And in between: the third space.
A space that is more than a passage. It is the place of encounter, of library, of entrance, of dialogue. It is the room where a Catholic-Protestant wedding becomes possible without betrayal—of faith or of family. The walls open. The chairs turn.
The architecture itself preaches here—without words, but not without effect. Materials have been chosen as if diplomacy were being built. Everything carries meaning, because everything carries hope.
To say it with a semiotic smile: this house of God is a text. And this text does not say “Either – Or,” but “Both – And.” It is not a palace of tolerance—it is a space of recognition. Of difference, yes—but a difference rooted in togetherness.
Sometimes, new dogmas aren’t needed. Just a door. Or better yet: a wall that can be opened. Prof.Paul Schütz &TCA
#church #brutalism

Between the Sea and Memory: A Semiotic Meditation

Between the Sea and Memory: A Semiotic Meditation on a Place Called Silence
There are places that are not read like books, but like poems: without beginning, without end, yet full of meaning. Places that are not merely built, but composed—from light, air, water, and the quiet intelligence of materials. In Bodrum, where the sea is not just a backdrop but an ancient memory, lies such a place. A hotel—or rather, a secret haven of restoration—created by TCA, hidden between dense forests and the salty vastness of the Aegean.
Here, nothing is loud. Not even beauty. As Peirce might say—it is a sign whose object cannot be named, only felt.
The hotel lies cradled between trees, as if it chose not to interrupt, but to listen. The forest, with its millions of standing witnesses, is not a backdrop—it is a living presence.
The guests—a small, curated number of travelers—find not just accommodation here, but arrival. They enter through a courtyard where food is not simply cooked, but celebrated. Private chefs who don’t just prepare nourishment, but translate culture. A library—not a decorative relic, but a sanctuary for the intellect. An indoor pool that invites not movement, but suspension. And a vast terrace, open to the sky, not for sleeping, but for dreaming.
This hotel is a narrative that doesn’t unfold from reception to room, but from sensation to sensation. The walls speak. The ceilings pause meaningfully. The lighting is not illumination, but thought. And together, these elements do not define luxury—but invent a new way of experiencing.
One could say that TCA did not simply build here—they researched. They searched for that fragile balance between presence and restraint, between creation and nature. A palimpsest of architecture, landscape, stillness, and intellect.
And the guest? They are not merely a visitor here. They are the final interpreter.
� Bodrum, Türkiye

#hotel #hoteldesign #bodrum #bodrumhotel #sky

Between Cathedral and Sound Lab: The Mediapark Col

Between Cathedral and Sound Lab: The Mediapark Cologne as a Semiotic Cosmos
When one contemplates TCA’s design for the Mediapark Cologne, one steps into an urban narrative that submits neither entirely to the myth of the industrial city nor to that of a futuristic media utopia. Rather, it unfolds as a palimpsest: layer upon layer of urban memories, dreams, and signs overlay each other.
It is telling — and surely no coincidence — that the architects have committed themselves to the idea of building a “new media city within the city.” It asks: how many subtexts can the urban syntax bear without losing itself?
The street axes of the Mediapark frame the cubic structures like words in a sentence. The recording and production studios disappear, half-buried in the earth — almost like medieval crypts, where no longer saints but sounds, images, and data streams lie in wait: the relics of the digital age.
The logic of the horizontal — office buildings stretching long and low — finds its counterpoint in the vertical towers. These rise like modern campaniles into the sky, charging the city with new significance. It is no coincidence that they evoke Cologne Cathedral, that Gothic hyper-sign that has shaped the city’s skyline for centuries, its spires a perpetual exclamation mark. The new towers of the Mediapark do not wish to compete but to quote, to echo, an ironic reference to the power of the vertical in the city’s horizon.
But what would such a place be without its landscape? The Mediapark’s parkland, so the plans promise, is to be shaped by hand. Here too lies a subtle irony: the handmade, the organic form, the wide meadows, water biotopes, and tree-lined avenues stand in contrast to the digital content generated beneath.
Thus, the Mediapark Cologne is more than a functional condensation of offices, studios, and park. It is, if you will, an urban sign laboratory, a semiotic cosmos in which the city itself becomes a medium.
And whoever strolls here does not merely wander through a green oasis, but through a city that quotes itself — like a medieval manuscript in whose marginalia new stories have long been waiting.
#cologne #cathedral #köln #mediapark #germany #sketch

A Tower for Sight and the Invisible One must some

A Tower for Sight and the Invisible

One must sometimes remind oneself that the tower, as it emerges from the fairy tales and chronicles of the Middle Ages, was never merely a structure but always a promise: the promise of seeing farther than the eye can reach and knowing more than humans are meant to know. Perhaps this explains our insatiable desire to erect towers that touch the sky, even though we have long since bid farewell to the gods.
A tower rising 350 meters into the air — a construction so bold it inevitably conjures up Babel — is not merely a matter of concrete, steel, and statics. It is a semiotic monument. For what does height mean if not the longing for oversight, for distance from the everyday, for that godlike perspective that allows us to recognize the world as a pattern?
Yet this tower is not only meant to satisfy human curiosity, that same curiosity which, as with medieval city wall towers, gazed out to spot enemies or storms in time.
Think of the Eiffel Tower, that iron colossus so heavy and so delicate at once, that in its time it seemed like a paradox — a promise of a future in which matter would be forced to serve the mind.
But more than that: this tower must not only be a technical marvel but also a stage for the gaze. From 350 meters up, the world looks different. Street patterns become ornaments, houses shrink to miniatures, people blur into dots, scarcely distinguishable from birds. Perhaps it is this perspective that reminds us we live in patterns and structures we only recognize when we detach ourselves from them. A tower of such height is a philosophical instrument — it compels us to renegotiate our relationship with the earth and the sky.
Thus the tower becomes a semiotic node: a sign of power, progress, communication — and at the same time a symbol of the eternal fragility of human hubris.
In the end, it is probably thus: we build these towers because we know they will one day fall again. But for a moment, for a generation, they grant us the illusion that we can escape the things that bind us to the ground.

#tower #towerbridge #eiffeltower #design #steel

TCA - 33 years all around the World ! . . . #archi

TCA - 33 years all around the World !
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#architecture #global #anniversary

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Galıp Dede Caddesi Yörük Çıkmazı 8 | 34420 Beyoğlu Istanbul Tel. +90 (212) 249 21 64 | Fax +90 (212) 249 22 95 | info@cakmakli.com

Galıp Dede Caddesi Yörük Çıkmazı 8 | 34420 Beyoğlu Istanbul Tel. +90 (212) 249 21 64 | Fax +90 (212) 249 22 95 | info@cakmakli.com