Growing up in Turkey, one of Hakan Topal’s summer jobs memorably unfolded on a building site. His father, Cemal Topal, was an engineer and wanted him to learn the trade, “so I spent 15 days with construction workers,” recalls Hakan. Today, Hakan is an artist and associate professor of new media and art and design at Purchase College, State University of New York. But before embarking on this creative and research-driven path, he followed in his father’s footsteps, pursuing engineering at Middle East Technical University (where he also snagged a master’s degree in gender and women’s studies) before heading to New York in 2000.

His background in art and science was a boon when he went to create Sandima Modern, a nearly 3,000-square-foot retreat and adjacent 323-square-foot cantilevered guest suite for his family near centuries-old Sandima village in Bodrum, Turkey. Between 2018 and 2021, Hakan spent ample time on the property, playing “amateur architect,” as he puts it, designing and building the raw concrete dwelling within a scenic olive grove on nearly two-and-a-half rocky acres with help from his father.

In the past, Hakan had tackled small renovation projects and designed museum installations, but none were “on this scale,” he points out. “It was a risk.” Thankfully, he had a cohort of architect friends willing to offer guidance along the way. Here, he walks us through the ambitious process.

A Stunning Location

Hakan: The Aegean coast of Turkey is magical. When my parents retired, they relocated from Ankara to Bodrum to live in a co-op. (In this area, co-ops are small towns composed of tiny houses.) But they also wanted a farmhouse, something like what they had in Ankara. My father is a village boy at heart. We looked at a lot of different sites together, and when they bought this olive grove on a hillside, which was a farm with cows and goats, I jumped on it, and said it was going to be my project.

Based on the code from the municipality, we knew the maximum footprint we could build, and we wanted to make it as simple as possible. A flat area demanded where the house should be, and our goal was to not interfere with the olive trees. My mother, Zekiye Topal, helped with the landscape design. The grove retains its natural slopes and original wild flora—there were monumental olive trees already there—and we planted more than 100 new olive and fruit trees. They are growing now, which is so beautiful.

A Concrete Foundation

Bodrum is on the Anatolian fault line, so the building needed to be bulky. It either had to be a steel structure or concrete, but steel isn’t cheap and there aren’t a lot of local workers who deal with it. Concrete was an easy option, but here nobody leaves it raw. It’s always covered with stone to make it look like an old house. I like stone houses, when the material is used honestly, but without the framing of steel or concrete, you’re not allowed to build them anymore.

So, I decided to do concrete. I love brutalism in certain ways; it can be beautiful when it plays with the landscape and open space. During the research phase, I visited major concrete structures in Japan, especially those by Tadao Ando.

Design Decisions

The material palette is limited. We paired concrete with local white travertine selected by my partner, Kari Conte, who’s an art curator. We went to the quarry and made decisions before the construction drawings were even approved. We decided on the color of the concrete, too, and then everything was set, and it became about the craftsmanship.

We had to convince local workers that this needed to be done in a certain way, which was one they weren’t used to. Plumbing and electrical had to go within the concrete and the formwork, and the formwork needed to be laid out in such a way that it looked like furniture. I did everything on SketchUp and showed my friend, who works at Herzog & de Meuron. They said, ‘Hakan, it looks good, just do it.’ I showed some architecture friends from Turkey, and they told me what I should be careful about. There were negotiations with the structural engineer over designs and calculations, like where to put the columns and making them thicker. Then, my father took over.

Overcoming Obstacles

The timeline was a challenge. There is a construction season in Bodrum. From May to October, you can’t do anything, so we wanted to finish this in six months. Concrete at the end of the day is a dark material and making it feel warm was also a challenge. I think the only way you can do it is with a lot of greenery. No one was doing green roofs in Bodrum, but we did. I installed solar panels myself.

I was very conservative in my approach, but you must make certain decisions and live with them, which happens with my art projects, too. But I discovered that being hands-on is the best because you can change so many things on-site. For example, when the slab was done, I realized the first floor was too open and I didn’t want to make it too much like a glass house, so we made modifications, and proportionally it looked better. In person, you have a different relationship with materials.

The Pared-Back Interior

When you enter the home, you’re on the terrace—in the summer you’re never inside—and then the kitchen is right there. The idea was that the kitchen, living room, and terrace had to be one. I don’t like divisions. In art, it’s said that you shouldn’t make too many gestures because when you do, you ruin the work.

The kitchen comes from the old house in Ankara. It’s 30-something years old and the color is a funny 1990s salmon hue. We upcycled it, fixed the appliances, and with the carpenter and stone mason, added new quartz marble to the island. When you’re sitting at the island, you face the back of the house and there’s a window that is a cinematic 2.2:1 ratio, so it’s as if you are looking at a movie screen. I’m a media artist, so I like these details. At night it’s beautiful because there’s a little light and the trees are moving. There’s always something to look at. The bedrooms on the lower level have oak furniture that I designed. We divided the bedrooms and bathrooms with cabinets; there are no doors.

Enjoying the Farm

There is no heating at my parents’ co-op, so from the beginning we imagined they would live in the home during the winter, because we put in heated floors; my sister, Sevda Arslan, and I would come in the summer. We now operate it like an Airbnb for our own family, where no one has their own bedroom or personal furniture. It’s everybody’s house.

More Construction Diary:

In the Mojave Desert, a First-Time Builder Takes On a Tricky Prefab Home

A Stylist and a Photographer Reenvision a 1950s Bungalow

Project Credits:

Designer: Hakan Topal / @hakantopal.nyc

Architect of Record: Melek Layik

Builder/General Contractor: Cemal Topal

Structural Engineer: Fatih Altinok