Sultan Suleyman reigned over the most powerful Ottoman Empire of all times, when the empire was the single great power of the world. Mimar Sinan was his chief architect. With all the resources and authority he had, Sinan would shape Istanbul into a world capital and leave a confounding legacy.

Mimar Sinan built Suleymaniye Mosque for Sultan Suleyman, it meant to be an epic feat for the epic ruler. As we were approaching the mosque, I was getting excited. I was about to see once more one of the most revered buildings in Istanbul, but this time from the perspective of an architectural patterns. I did not know what I was going to find, but I knew it would be grand.

Your first impression of Suleymaniye is its enormous size. It is hard to capture its might in a photo. But, as big as it is, it does not strike you as chunky. Mimar Sinan added a ton of smaller domes around the big dome, and these soften the perception.

There is a big surprise here: there is very little ornaments in Suleymaniye. Solid, uninterrupted columns supporting volumes of domes, in addition to the colossal dome.

On the other hand, in front of the mosque, you find the tombs of Sultan Suleyman and Hurrem Sultan (his wife). They are both eloquently ornamented. This dichotomy reminded me of a paragraph from my book, Rasmussen’s Experiencing Architecture:

An architect who is interested in construction for construction’s sake, or cavity for cavity’s sake, will not employ such contrasts or mannerisms. It is difficult to imagine anyone trying to emphasize the effect of a large iron bridge by using contrasting detail. But the artist who wishes to create a sensational visual effect can employ such means to accentuate certain parts of the work.

Mimar Sinan did not have much tessellations for us in Suleymaniye. Perhaps, he just wanted to work on the dome structure and present it in its purest form. According to Wikipedia, Sinan actually “tried to obtain a new geometrical purity, a rationality and a spatial integrity” by experimenting with domed architecture.

I’m now curious as how I will look back on Suleymaniye as our trip takes us through the steps of Central Asia.

I imagine Istanbul to be a mystical gypsy woman, just as you think you get a hang of it, Istanbul will unveil new surprises.

[The trip of a software engineer (and two architects), Chapter 03, Part I]

Istanbul is an old city, and it has many details from different eras that the eye may not see even if you look at it for a long time. And once you start seeing them, you get curious about the nature of the fabric that makes Istanbul which keeps decades of details in harmony.

Our time in Istanbul had this feeling: I grew up in Istanbul but now we were on our way to unearth tessellation patterns which I had never paid attention before.

We stepped out of the ferry into the hustling street. Istanbul’s Eminonu district was busy starting the day, jostling with energy. It is one of the oldest parts of the city and covered with numerous historical buildings, built at different times. Nermin Ozkok, the architect we had interviewed a few days prior, had given us the list of prominent pieces of architecture with great patterns. Our first stop was Rustem Pasa Mosque, built by Mimar Sinan during the rule of Suleyman the Magnificient. Rustem Pasa was a high rank officer who had married one of the daughter’s of Suleyman.

As we approached the mosque, I grasped Rasmussen’s point. During this project, I’m reading few architecture books, to help me digest the great pieces of architecture we see. Rasmussen’s “Experiencing Architecture” is one them. In there, he says “[the architect] sets the stage for a long, slow-moving performance which must be adaptable enough to accommodate unforeseen improvisations.” The bazaar surrounding Rustem Pasa had grown so much that you could not really see the facade from the street. Architects may have the control over what they build, but they don’t have much say in how the surroundings develop over years. This is difficult.

We were greeted by a tiled entrance in the courtyard. The patterns were mostly floral.

Upon entrance, you are dazzled by the intricate tile work, covering all walls.

It was interesting to see that the designs focused on floral patterns more than complex geometric tessellations. The ceiling patterns were the most geometric and within that you could still see flowers.

On the way out, we stumbled into this script placed above the door. Apparently, this is in Kufic style. Kufic was developed in Kufa, Iraq in 600s. It is the oldest (Arabic) calligraphic style. The symmetrical outlay looked beautiful.

We got going. Our next stop would be Suleymaniye, one of the greatest works of Mimar Sinan which he built for Suleyman the Magnificent.

Furthermore, just to add to the mix, this architect was no ordinary architect (if there is a such a thing), she is the first female architect to build a mosque, ever, from ground up including its interior design.

Nermin Ozkok is a Turkish architect in her late 50s. She has been in the profession for over 30 years. Her 10-year work, Deva Ulu Mosque opened in Sekerpinar, Turkey in 2012. Besides pressing her way into a niche predominantly occupied by men architects, what makes her work interesting is the persistent use of tessellations in her buildings.

Deva Ulu Mosque is a modern design, trading a dome with 4000 led lights. The lights are composed in such a way that they create a perception of depth. As far as I can understand, this is a huge decision as in Turkish and Ottoman traditions of architecture, a dome is almost synonymous with a mosque. Meanwhile, the mosque itself embraces modern tessellations which gives a feeling of continuation of tradition.

Ozkok has been intrigued by geometric designs since her childhood, which she spent in Sultanahmet. She would spend her time studying the patterns at buildings near the old town, and watch her mom do intricate lace work. She showed us her first work when she did while in primary school.

This was the very moment we learned something very interesting from her: most floral designs on tiles are in deed geometric designs which are augmented with floral constituents, simple drawings of petals, flowers, and leaves that you would add to certain places once you trace underlaying geometric pattern. So from a mathematical perspective, there is a one to one transformation from a geometric pattern to a floral design. How delightful!

Ozkok uses tessellations in all her work. When we asked her what she thought of the place of tradition in modern design, she had a clear voice: without studying the past, you cannot build the future. She herself studies the architecture tradition constantly, and learns something new everyday. My interpretation of what she said was that she takes in all what she learns, mixes it with her creativity and composes it for our time, with a touch of experimentation.

However, although she uses tessellations heavily, the process is very labor intensive. It requires transferring hand drawn patterns to the computer and further manipulating them by hand on CAD programs. This is where I felt reassured about our goal: if we can streamline this process with an open source library, more buildings with historical tessellations can rise into the future.

And Ozkok liked the idea. We now have one prospective user, and not any user, we have Nermin Ozkok!

There is a hope for when you are approaching to the birth house of a genius. It is mixed with admiration, curiosity and a touch of jealousy. It feels as if you are about to find clues about the grand picture of human race. Your walk hastens and as you turn the corner which leads to the house, a surprise is waiting for you.

[The trip of a software engineer (and two architects), Chapter 02, Part I]

Mimar Sinan built 300+ major structures, he was the head architect for 3 sultans of Ottoman Empire over his lifetime of 99 years. He is amongst the most prolific and influential architects of all time. He is responsible for major works of architecture such as Selimiye and Suleymaniye mosques. He also strengthened Hagia Sophia so that its dome can stay intact.

Sinan was born in Agirnas, Kayseri and was recruited into the Ottoman service when he was a child, then came to Istanbul and got his training in architecture. He became the chief architect at the age of 49.

His house is humble. When his family lived there, it was only one floor. You enter the house through a minuscule courtyard, and an unassuming doorway. At first the house is nothing you would expect of a man who has built wonders and contributed so much to humanity. But as you follow through the arched hallways, it takes you to a labyrinth of carved rooms into the stone. Sinan’s house is built at the entrance of a small underground city which connects all the nearby houses.

Sinan’s father was a stonemason. When walking through the halls, you imagine the child Sinan running around back and forth between these houses in the tunnels of the underground city. Was he inspired by these? Did he help his father in his shop and dreamed of building big structures?

In this maze, the photos of his work constantly remind you where you are. Because otherwise, you may think that you are in a house in Cappadocia.

We are only 100 miles away from there. But all is connected!

Baris is a software engineer at Google. His interests include machine learning, algorithms, and helping humanity. He met the two architects, Lauren and Alexis in New York and since then, they have been talking about collaborating.

Cappadocia is over the ground as much as it is under the ground. Endless valleys of carved dwellings in tuff mountains extend in all directions. They did not raze and rebuild cities, they just used the same carved residences.

[The trip of a software engineer (and two architects), Chapter 01, Part III]

Imagine your house being built 3000 years ago.

Now, imagine using the same kitchen that cooked thousands of dinners for thousands of people, eating at the same stone tables that listened similar stories in different languages. This is a different living mode.

I got my first architecture lesson here: you don’t need columns when you carve a church into a mountain. If columns are there, it is for a different reason. Cappodicians used columns, but they did as an esthetic choice. They had a vision of how churches should look and they carved into the stone.

Your choice of building materials dictate what you can build. They put constraints. My project partners say that good architects don’t see constraints as bad. Constraints mean benefits in other ways. You just have to know how to look at it.

As we walked through the valleys, we ran into three different pattern styles from three different civilizations.

The first one was the mosaic patterns on the floor of a town meeting hall from an ancient Greek city of Sobessos, from 300–400s.

And within walking distance of this, we stopped at a Christian monastery, from 800s, dating back to iconoclasm period during Byzantine Empire. During this period, images and icons were banned in religious paintings. The churches were covered with tessellations of varying complexity. The ones we found show grapes.

Within walking distance of that, we stopped at a Seljuk Madrasa from 1300s. Madrasa was a religious school. It admitted students at primary school age, and it had enough levels for them to go to school until their early 20s, sort of a university education for the times.

Baris is a software engineer at Google. His interests include machine learning, algorithms, and helping humanity. He met the two architects, Lauren and Alexis in New York and now they are on a journey to decode architectural patterns in ancient buildings. Project Agama publishes its findings on instagram: http://instagram.com/projectagama

For thousands of years, architects and craftsmen decorated their buildings with intricate symbols. Sometimes they got influenced from neighboring civilizations. Sometimes they invented new ones. But every culture added their own mark. They tried different patterns. They tried different colors. Thousands of years of human endeavor created countless designs in the buildings of the world. [The trip of a software engineer (and two architects), Chapter 01: Part II]

Ten Thousand Year Heritage

The trip of a software engineer (and two architects)

Chapter 01: Part II

By Baris Yuksel

For thousands of years, architects and craftsmen decorated their buildings with intricate symbols. Sometimes they got influenced from neighboring civilizations. Sometimes they invented new ones. But every culture added their own mark. They tried different patterns. They tried different colors. Thousands of years of human endeavor created countless designs in the buildings of the world.

These tessellations exist in many forms in all around the world, mostly in ancient buildings. Some of these buildings are protected. That is good. But some of them face the danger of extinction. Earthquakes, storms, wars, all threaten these buildings, and these patterns.

We can go a lot further than just cataloguing these in photos and videos. We can decode these patterns, and recreate them in code. We can make sure that our common heritage is digitized, but not to be saved, instead to find new life in the new buildings. We can build an open source library, open to all, including all the architects, artists, mathematicians, and software engineers. We can make sure that architects can use these patterns as easy as drawing a line.

Imagine a day where you can easily recreate the tessellations from Timur’s palace on your wall.

This is our heritage. This is the world’s heritage. We can create a library of them, and we can rebuild them in new buildings.

We dream the same dream as the ancient architects. Our goal is to carry their hard work into the future making it available for all humanity.

Baris Yuksel is a software engineer at Google. His interests include machine learning, algorithms, and helping humanity. He met the two architects, Lauren and Alexis in New York and now they are on a journey to decode architectural patterns in ancient buildings. Project Agama publishes its findings on instagram: http://instagram.com/projectagama

Not in a million years, I would think about carving a house into a mountain. But you could actually carve your house into a mountain, complete with a kitchen, bathroom, and everything else, without power tools. You don’t have to be crazy to do that. You just need a mountain which is soft inside and hard outside.

[The trip of a software engineer (and two architects), Chapter 01, Part I]

Something that holds against rain and storms, but when you chisel the surface, it becomes so soft that you can use even your fingernails to shape the stone. Something that hardens at the surface within few days once you stop carving.

Cappadocia is exactly that.

There are thousands of houses carved into the mountains in Cappadocia. There are thousands of churches carved into the mountains in Cappadocia. There are hundreds of underground cities going deep many levels (I counted 5 levels in one) carved under the surface in Cappadocia.

These structures are old, counting 4000 years and on of human occupancy. They are ubiquitous. They did not get razed or demolished. They were occupied by different people, cultures, languages, religions. Empires came and went. These structures stayed the same. This is where the conversation between different cultures took place set in stone.

Every culture did the same thing. They kept their animals on the first level of the city, so that they did not stink up the levels above them. They used humongous circular stones as doors between levels. They carved water wells, food storage, churches, mosques. When their population increased, they carved more levels going deeper.

They only lived in these cities when they were attacked by foreign armies. When the siege ended, they would go back to earth. Sometimes this took months. Sometimes weeks.

Our trip started in Cappadocia.

Baris Yuksel is a software engineer at Google. His interests include machine learning, algorithms, and helping humanity. He met the two architects, Lauren and Alexis in New York and now they are on a journey to decode architectural patterns in ancient buildings.

I don’t know much about architecture. I don’t know if we will be successful. But I have a feeling this can be done.

When I was a little kid, I had a Commodore 64 computer. I loved that computer. I loved it because of the games. But also, I was inspired that someone just wrote some code and made those games. Only if I knew how to code, I could make my own games.

I learned how to code. I learned that with code, not only I could make games, but I could also make programs to solve problems. I could help my friends. I could help people. I could have real impact. I felt like I had a purpose in life: the sky was the limit, with code I could make anything happen.

Since then, I worked for many projects. I worked for my dream company. I learned a lot. I contributed to solving hard problems. It took time, and hard work. But it felt great.

Now, I’m embarking on a trip in the spirit of the true software crusader, following my childhood dream. It is time to take the challenge head on. The world has changed. Software has become more relevant.

It is time to get the coding hands dirty with unknown.

Baris Yuksel is a software engineer at Google. His interests include machine learning, algorithms, and helping humanity. He met the two architects, Lauren and Alexis in New York and since then, they have been talking about collaborating.