İki Kişilik Bir Dünya: Ester & David
Röportaj: Aslı Balkan Erçelik
They met at a vitruta party. The rest is their story.
This time, Good People of vitruta has a story of two, and one that feels a little special to us.
Our paths crossed with Ester and David separately through Good People of vitruta. Their paths, however, crossed at a Good People gathering.
Today, we are somewhere very different from where the story began: we’re knocking on their door to celebrate their marriage and visit the home they have built together.
This time, we get to know Ester and David not only through their individual practices, but through the life, home and creative world they have built together.
First of all, thank you for opening your home to us.
Everything actually happened very quickly, and sometimes even we’re surprised by how things got to this point :) After meeting at a vitruta event, we didn’t spend much time apart. During the first two years after we met, we travelled to many different places. Those trips gave us the chance to get to know each other much more quickly. We became both partners and best friends. Trying to find solutions together whenever we faced a problem created a space where we could both feel safe. Once we had a space where we could inspire each other and create together, our relationship naturally progressed quite quickly.
Ester
Ester, it’s been quite a while since we first hosted you at Good People. We imagine a lot has changed since then. How would you describe yourself today, and perhaps the way your work has evolved?
When I first joined Good People, it was six years ago. I had just moved from London to Istanbul and was trying to find my own path here. Both I and my work have changed so much since then. At the time, I was much more in a period of searching; trying to understand how my life in Istanbul would take shape and how my work should develop. I was working as a freelancer. Through the agency experience I gained during this period, and after my path crossed with David’s, we turned ESD into a boutique studio working internationally.
From NOX to Dimanche, Myrina to Townhouse, they all belong to completely different worlds. When a new brand comes to you, what do you look at first to find its voice?
We really do work with brands that have very different worlds, styles and audiences. That’s also one of the most enjoyable parts of the job: working with very different brands and getting to know them closely. Once we fully understand the brand’s goals, where it wants to be and who its target audience is, and identify the niche that sets it apart from others, its visual identity also starts to take shape in our minds.
In our previous interview, you talked about drawing inspiration from nostalgic packaging, medicine boxes, Art Deco patterns and shop signs around Istanbul. Is that visual memory still with you? Have the things that excite you changed over time?
Yes, old packaging references and signage are still sources of inspiration for me. In fact, almost any visual you can think of can become a reference. Travelling, the use of typography in different countries, architecture too. I recently went to San Sebastián, for example, and from shops to bars, the same bold, curved Basque typography was used everywhere. It’s a style specific to the region. Observing how graphic details like these shape a city and its surroundings is very inspiring to me.
David
David, this is the first time we’re getting to know you more closely through Good People. Can you tell us a little about yourself and your work?
I think Büyükada is one of the most beautiful places someone born in Istanbul could spend their childhood. I was a little kid running around the streets of Büyükada in the ’90s, playing ball from morning until night, drenched in sweat, constantly appearing at one end of the island and then the other. Friends from that time still remember me as the kid riding a skateboard or speeding onto the pier on his BMX.
I was quiet and didn’t have many friends, but the friends I did have, my cousins and, of course, my brother were always very close to me. I think being so quiet made me look for ways to express myself by creating things, while all that energy trapped inside me made me want to push everything I did to its limits. I could say I’ve had a passion for adrenaline since I was a child.
All these signs eventually led me towards areas like subculture and street art, where I began to find myself. When skateboarding entered my life at the age of 12 or 13 and completely took over, it opened the doors to an enormous universe. Through skate culture, I formed some amazing friendships and entered a vast world of art and graphics. I began looking differently at the places we skated, the spots, the pavements and, really, everything around me.
Over time, this perspective also drew me towards architecture and design. But I felt that what I wanted to do needed to be much freer, something without boundaries. I think my art practice grew out of that need: as a space where I could express myself, experiment with different things and push boundaries.
After studying Fine Arts in France, I began doing this professionally. I would describe my work as trying to stay away from constructed narratives and turning the aesthetic coincidences that emerge somewhere between chance and control into action through different means of expression, with a sense that is part play and part experiment :) I focus more on expression than representation. Last year, I held my second solo exhibition with Ambidexter Gallery. I think the energetic child who began on the streets of Büyükada, always curious about pushing boundaries, still has a serious influence on what I do today. At the same time, Ester and I work together under ESD Studio. We live in our home in Istanbul as a family of three with Marley :)
There’s a story that stretches from the French lycée to Montpellier, and we know about your affinity for warm climates and the Riviera. What did those years in the south add to your perspective, and what did you bring back with you when you returned to Istanbul?
Montpellier has an important place in my heart. I lived there for a long time, and I remember periods when it genuinely felt like home. Of course, when I returned to Istanbul, I realised that this was somewhat of an illusion; the absence of Istanbul can’t really be filled by another city.
Montpellier is a relaxed place, shaped by slow living and the Mediterranean way of life. I think that’s why it was so good for me :) I feel more at peace in places close to the sea. I love the Aegean and the Mediterranean.
The biggest “Riviera” quality I brought back with me was the ability to live comfortably as yourself, unlike in Istanbul. Quite independently of what people around you might think; dressing, eating, drinking and living however you want... A freer and more relaxed urban life. I think my time in Montpellier really made me feel that.
When I returned to Istanbul, though, I remember struggling quite a bit with the intensity of big-city life, the traffic and the process of readjusting. It took me some time to get used to that pace again.
You work across different fields such as painting, monoprint and photography. Do you see these disciplines as separate from one another, or as different paths within the same practice?
The practices are different from one another, but since they ultimately come from the same person, it’s possible to find common ground between them. Rather than staying within the framework of traditional art practice, I choose to move between disciplines, experiment and mix mediums. This allows me to create more freely and avoid monotony. I’m constantly triggering my creativity through different tools.
We see organic and geometric forms alongside abstract figures within the same world in your work. What ideas or images drive you to create the most today?
“Expression focuses on revealing inner emotions and mental states. Representation, on the other hand, focuses on copying or depicting an object or phenomenon in the external world. The shift from representation to expression creates a transformation in which art and language move away from reflecting the external world and towards revealing an inner truth.”
I think what I need in my artistic practice is expression rather than representation. Of course, the images, moments, events and experiences we encounter in everyday life and that feed our subconscious probably find their way into our work in different forms. But rather than representing them literally, I’m interested in the feelings and associations they leave with me. In my photography too, I focus on capturing images that move away from reality and exist somewhere between painting and photography.
The visual elements that catch my attention in the urban environment are mostly traces, stains, signs of use and things that have transformed over time through being lived with. The marks a surface accumulates over the years, the layers on a wall, something ageing or turning into something else — these kinds of things make me think and spark my curiosity. I think this is why organic and geometric forms, abstract figures and different relationships between surfaces appear in my work. For me, rather than representing something specific, they open up spaces towards an emotion, a memory or an inner state.
In one of your interviews, you mentioned that rather than giving the viewer a direct message through your work, you care more about creating a connection with their own subconscious. Is it important to you to know what someone feels when they look at one of your works?
Rather than my work giving the viewer a message, I find it more valuable if it sets something in motion within them and opens up a space where they can connect it to their own experience.
For me, it’s both valuable and interesting when people are prompted to stop for a moment within the flow of life, take some time they might not normally make for themselves in everyday life, turn inward a little and spend time alone with their own subconscious. Perhaps the most beautiful part of the work for me is that the meaning I create while making it can transform into something completely different for the viewer.
At exhibitions, I sometimes see two people standing in front of a work and talking about what they feel. I can’t help but listen in :) Because in that moment, even though I never set out with a predetermined intention, it makes me feel that I’ve reached somewhere. That’s perhaps the moment when the work meets the viewer and becomes part of their own life, memory or subconscious.
Today, you share both a home and a studio. Has marriage changed the way you work together, or were you already moving at the same rhythm?
Our ways of working are so different that living in the same home has made us experience those differences much more clearly. Ester likes to work within a more planned system; in terms of space, she also prefers working outside the home, in cafés, coworking spaces and places where there are people and more activity around her.
David, on the other hand, is more productive within his own routine, at home, in his own comfortable space. An idea can come to him at very unexpected moments or completely random hours. Usually something takes shape in his mind, and once he sits down and focuses, he wants to bring it to life quickly. It can take him a long time to start a painting, but once he does, he hyperfocuses on finishing it; he’s not comfortable leaving something unfinished either. These differences actually work really well for us, because we’re able to give each other the space we need to work comfortably.
This is also a place where your creative work happens. In a space where work and life are so intertwined, how do you maintain boundaries — or do you even want to? :)
Honestly, it’s not really possible to maintain boundaries when it comes to work. The only places in this house where work doesn’t enter are the kitchen and the bedroom :)
Ester is someone who blends her life and work together and enjoys it that way; because she can’t confine her work to specific days and hours, she sees it as part of her life. Even while socialising, a work opportunity might come up, or an idea for the studio might occur to her while she’s on holiday.
David, unlike Ester, can’t really think about work while socialising, and even if he does, he can’t be productive. When he’s designing and focused, he doesn’t notice time passing. With painting, though, there’s no knowing when an idea will come, so his setup always needs to be ready and waiting for him. That’s why, when he’s away from the studio, he experiments with different techniques or takes photographs.
Even when we’re side by side, we don’t really need to set specific boundaries; even if we wanted to, we probably couldn’t separate the two :) Sometimes it feels like we’re constantly working, but we wouldn’t be happy any other way.
If you each had to choose separately, which corner would Ester choose and which would David choose? And which object at home has your favourite story?
Ester: I would choose the living room. I love how spacious it feels, being able to see outside, and sitting at the blue table to work. My favourite object is my father’s lava lamp. It was designed in the 1960s, inspired by an egg timer, and its design hasn’t changed since. I love both its nostalgic, retro feeling and simply watching it; I find it very calming.
David: I think I would choose the kitchen in this house :) In another home it might have been the garage or the studio, I’m not sure. I love spending time in the kitchen and constantly trying new things. Taking that to the next level is one of my goals for the near future :) Trying to surprise Ester with the food I cook is one of my favourite things to do at home.
The object with my favourite story at home is the carriage bell my brother gave me as a gift. During my childhood on the island, every morning began with the sound of the bells on the horse-drawn carriages passing through the street. The feelings and memories that sound triggers in me are very intense.
Is there a work, a book or a place that’s exciting you at the moment?
Recently, the place that excited us most was the Louisiana Museum in Copenhagen. Beyond the works in the museum, the moment in which we experienced it was also very special: everything was covered in snow, the sun was shining brightly in the sky, and light was filtering through the architecture of the building. We were so fascinated by observing our surroundings that we didn’t spend enough time with the works inside. We know we’ll go back.
Finally, could you share what comes to mind when you hear “vitruta” and “Good People”? A brand, a neighbourhood, a person, a colour, an event... whatever comes to mind.
Ester: When I think of vitruta Good People, I think of all the wonderful people I’ve met through it. It reminds me of Pera. The times we would meet at vitruta and then go to Comedus for wine. There’s also this funny memory of David and me being in the same photograph after a vitruta event, before we had even met, and only realising it much later :)
David: To me, vitruta Good People means sincerity, enjoying life, having fun and a group of good people who inspire one another in different ways. In terms of neighbourhood, Beyoğlu, where the story began and where the first store opened. In terms of people, all the “Good People”, the vitruta team who make every Good People gathering unforgettable with their positive energy and who think through every detail, and of course our dear friends Selçuk and Melih. Since we’re here, let’s thank them too :)