Reporting · Issue 07 · Summer 2022
First in Konfekt
Sultan of Chic
Academic, historian, designer: meet Serdar Gülğün, the renaissance man whose love for all things Ottoman touches every part of his life – even his choice of pet.
“You begin with the carpet and then work your way up,” says Serdar Gülğün as he settles on a green velvet diwan in a 19th-century wooden hunting lodge in Çengelköy, which he has transformed into a modern-day Ottoman palace. He points to the hand-painted ceiling outlined by a ring of moulding in his living room. “The art of an interior comes from layering all sorts of colours, techniques and fabrics on top of each other. Something that essentially is expected to look kitsch and ugly produces utter elegance.”
It was at one such exhibition that he was approached by Vitali Hakko, founder of Turkish fashion company Vakko, to design textiles inspired by Ottoman heritage. A career in design and interiors ensued – but always couched in his rich knowledge of history. “It is the designer's job to understand both worlds – the past and present – and render the past approachable in the present,” he says.
Gülğün's work has involved translating Ottoman art, culture, and lifestyle into today's world. So far his portfolio includes an exclusive “Ottoman Tulip” line for the Hungarian Herend porcelain house, a historical Ottoman colour palette by the Dulux paint brand and two books released by Assouline. His personal brand, Serdar Gülğün Istanbul, also features a selection of his designs, which are available at various retailers, including the Turkish department store Beymen.
Beyond his design skills, he advises restoration projects on historical buildings. “I am the one who informs köşk and yalı (historical mansions) owners that parquet flooring is not acceptable, as it was not part of the original design for those structures,” he says – although we suspect he does much more.
Gülğün's passion for all things Ottoman is more than a job, it is a lifestyle. His philosophy is evident in every corner of his home, which he likens to the 16th-century “cabinet of curiosities.” But here nothing is hidden or sealed away; on the contrary, everything is on display and touchable. “If it breaks, it breaks,” says Gülğün as he shows Konfekt his collection of blue-and-white Chinese pottery. “Iznik pottery that is now hanging in museums was used as plates. These things were part of ordinary life. They are made to be used. Everyone wants craftsmen and artisans to survive but how many support them? The longevity of the craft requires it to be part of one's daily life. It is not enough to marvel at it.”
Inside his home, the surfaces are busy with corals, Ottoman calligraphy and candles on brass dolphin-shaped pedestals, which are part of the collection he produced for French candlemaker Cire Trudon. Century-old Ousak carpets sit beneath Italian consoles. “Before the word cosmopolitan was conjured up, Ottomans lived as such,” says Gülğün as he guides Konfekt through the various rooms.
A thicket of jasmine swirls around the staircase of the entrance that opens into the garden. Gülğün has two pet tortoises living there, which he has been training for more than 10 years. “The only thing I have managed to teach them so far is to come towards me when I am holding something red in my hand,” he says as he strolls along the poolside shaded by palm trees. “I am fascinated by the Tulip Era of the Ottomans, which marks the time when the sultan abandons his warrior demeanour, evolving into a renaissance man with refined tastes.”
In that era, the sultan gave extravagant celebrations in his tulip garden, where tortoises carried candlesticks on their backs having been trained to do so by tortoise trainers. “There is a lot to say about a man who can afford to train tortoises,” says Gülğün, exercising a somewhat acerbic wit.
Returning inside to the Divanhane room, one of the many alcove reception rooms, Gülğün serves one last round of green tea with slices of dried orange peel. “Today we live in a very rich visual world but there is a lack of content,” he says. “It seems that we have lost the ability to tell stories. There is a lot going on but I find it all empty and void of meaning. Good design, for me, necessitates good storytelling.” Whether it's fables from the past or the rich seams of history that run through his contemporary work, stories are certainly something that Gülğün and his brand have in abundance.