The museum is a bank — SALT Beyoğlu, İstanbul, 2025.
Written in lipstick on a restroom mirror, this unsanctioned intervention folds the building’s history as the Ottoman Bank into its present cultural role, asking what forms of capital the institution still accumulates — and for whom.
The museum is gentrification — Arter, İstanbul, 2025.
Lipstick on a restroom mirror. This intervention names the institution not as neutral, but as an active engine of displacement and capital in Dolapdere.
The museum is not İstanbul—İstanbul Modern, 2025
Written in lipstick on a restroom mirror. The intervention confronts the institution’s glossy branding and denies its claim to represent the lived city. The name “Istanbul” becomes a façade — the museum is not the city, but its estrangement.
The museum is orientalism — Pera Museum, Istanbul, 2025.
Written in lipstick on a restroom mirror. The inscription names the institution through its own collection, where the European gaze on the East becomes the gaze of the museum itself.
The museum is a brand — Sakıp Sabancı Museum, Istanbul, 2025.
Written in lipstick on a restroom mirror. This intervention names the institution not as a cultural commons but as corporate branding, where a family name functions as a logo and inheritance becomes marketing.
The museum is the nation — İstanbul Museum of Painting and Sculpture
Written in lipstick on a restroom mirror. This intervention names the museum as an extension of the nation itself, a site where art history is framed to embody state ideology and culture becomes national identity.
The museum is a battleship — İstanbul Naval Museum, Istanbul.
Written in lipstick on a restroom mirror. Like a battleship, the museum is an engine of display: heavy, armored, and monumental. Its vessels, trophies, and artifacts parade power as spectacle, turning histories of conquest into cultural heritage.