Why do we always see the waterline
as a strict boundary while all of us are
beneath the same sky?
This project reimagines the shoreline of Haliç as a
shared space for humans and mullet fishes.
Instead of reinforcing a clear division between land and water,
it proposes a gradual transition that allows both worlds to overlap.
Bar-shaped FRP seating elements extend along the edge, inviting
people to sit, linger, and observe.
As these linear forms continue, they shift in scale,
multiply, and descend beneath the surface.
What begins as seating for humans transforms into an underwater route
where mullet fishes can gather and sustain their lives.
As platforms rise and sink, and net-like structures
float above the water, the boundary softens.
Bodies lean in, touch, and linger.
Feet touch the surface, hands trail below,
and reflections begin to blur.
Here, water is no longer a strict line
that separates species and spaces,
but a shared public space that softens boundaries
and opens up new ways of coexisting.
Why do we only imagine the land?
Why do we not imagine a bond
with the water, and those who dwell within it?
Why must the fish remain so far from us
as if distance were their only defense?
When we could dream of places
where all could gather, move, and breathe as one,
why does water stand between us
like a sharp, unyielding line
cutting our lives in two beneath the same sky?
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