Once upon a time we had villages …

At dawn, lambs, sheep, cows, and water buffaloes were gathered separately in the square and taken to the plateau to the pasture.

Then those who had a job in the town started to gather, at the head of the truck, which was the only vehicle in the village … The driver was Mehmet (the closed part of the truck) five Turkish liras, and the body of the truck was two Turkish lira.

After the animals were pulled away and the truck moved to the city, gradually the people were hurrying to prepare the oxcart and placed the supplies to go to the field on horse and ox carriages.

Afternoon square; It became crowded with people returning from the field, the young men who could change their work clothes were chatting in the small grocery stores in the square.

The village square was the first place where those who could buy a new outfit wanted to go.

Day after day, soldiers were sent off accompanied by drums and flutes, and day after day, a wedding would be held, accompanied by halay.

During the month of Ramadan, children waited for the call to be recited, ran and informed the elders “The adhan was recited.”

On eid mornings, adults were expected to come out of prayer, children rushed to the grocery stores with small pocket money.

Village squares were meeting, meeting, chatting …

Letters from abroad would find their owners by reading names.

Wedding processions would definitely pass through the square. Accompanied by heroes on their horses …

The population was high and production was insufficient.

People were poor, very much.

There was no electricity, but there was conversation.

There was no phone, there was no letter.

There was no concrete back then.

There was adobe, there was stone, there was soil.

Now he is covered in concrete. Neither village, nor square …

When we left our villages and went to the city, we made some money. Then; We came to visit our villages to gain superiority. Some of us also built the city’s crooked and soulless concrete buildings for their villages to stay on summer holidays.

Those who stayed in the village because they could not go to the city were demolished their village houses and buried in concrete, in proportion to the people in the city.

No village left, no fountain

Neither mansion nor house remained ….

We destroyed the henna stone and carried concrete from the cities to our villages …

Stone and soil signifies home poverty, concrete signifies wealth!

Concrete was the apocalypse of our villages …

Grandpa and Grandma

Şamil and Münevver …

My mother and my father

Alime and Mecit

Eight (8) my aunt

My sister and my brothers …

I was born and raised in this house.

The voices of my aunts who love to “be sacrificed” are in my ears …

My grandmother who says “Thank God to create you” is in my dreams …

At the beginning of the tandoor, I remember my mother’s warm embrace, which I pretended to sleep for my mother to carry and carried to my bed.

The voice of my grandfather saying “Come on and get up in the afternoon” before the sun rises, the loving gaze of my beautiful father waiting for me, who has prepared the ox cart to go to the field, lives in my longing.

I wanted that Let our house move to centuries later.

Set as an example and let only one village house remain in the future world …

Who knows, maybe our grandchildren will break down these ugly and soulless concrete piles.

They rebuild our villages ….

The mansion rising in Kenan Yavuz Culture House is nourished by the “neighborhood room” culture unique to Bayburt. very little ongoing mansion to live in this culture which serve regions in Turkey; offers guest house service to guests knocking on the door of the village and the culture house.

The mansion, which can be described as a center of culture and life where intergenerational ‘private’ sharing is experienced, is the scene of the joy of the local people who come together on special occasions such as holidays, and is a ‘house of mourning’ where sometimes grief is shared.

Humanity is disappearing by transforming into robots that consume in huge shopping malls, markets, stores and streets of cities.

Whereas, there were groceries in our neighborhood, our family tailor and cobbler in the past. We all knew each other, we could shop without money in our pockets. Those tiny shops were also the places for conversation.

The modern world has transformed humans into an consuming monster.

Our museum was established to be the place of those who want to get rid of the gears of the modern world.

Our bazaar, which we created to bring our warm places to the agenda and to emphasize the virtue of small tradesmen and professionals, has become one of our favorite places for our visitors.

We must resist not to crush our beauties, which should not change, to the mechanical world.

The modern world is not a way of life to be taken seriously. Because there is no human in that world.

The world, where only things exist, could not and did not bring people together with happiness.

It’s time to meet our roots…

In 1848, a golden rush started in California, America, and hundreds of thousands of people left their land and ran to the state of California with the dream of finding gold. While hundreds of thousands of people who left their lands and homes for gold perished, those who came to look for gold became rich who sold materials, equipment and land.

In Turkey began in the 1950s, “the Istanbul paved with gold” period.

Millions of people grabbed their beds and quilts and rushed to Istanbul and other big cities. We gifted a new concept to the world literature “shanty house” from our country.

Not to live on treasure lands overnight! Slums were built to shelter and own the treasury land.

The slum period transformed villages, neighbors, relatives, folk songs, weddings, conversations, conversations, family traditions, everything but everything.

It was crushed ….

A class of millions of people with no identity was formed, neither peasant nor urban.

The flow from village to city, a society that could not do it in a planned way with education and development, when they rushed to Gold, gave birth to a freak class.

The shanty we built for our museum; Next to our village house, going back represents the transition from the big family to the broken family.

Transformation; It represents millions of people of a society that cannot do with education and technology, who perish with the dream of becoming rich.

Those who set out as Istanbul’s stone and soil is gold

Thanks to the slums they built on treasury lands, that is, on lands that do not belong to them, they acquired apartments.

So they found gold …

However, they disappeared in dark streets, musty-smelling apartments, and crowds that did not even have neighbors to say hello …

The houses of the city are very close to each other, thousands of people entering their houses through a single door …

However, people are very distant from each other.

As Master Necip Fazıl said,

Because of proximity, intimacy that flew away …..

We adapted the linseed oil stone from hundreds of years ago to the mill we built by simulating it.

Linseed oil, also known as Zeyrek and Linen oil, continues to be used in the health sector in the past and today. The oil, which continues to be produced by industrial methods, was produced by the mill method in the past.

Before oil was found, it was also a product used for lighting. He used to illuminate our homes with flick and gas lamps.

Bayburt; It was a region where many linseed oil mills were located due to the soil structure where high quality flax grass was grown. Turned by the help of Ox and Buffalo animals, the stone crushed the flax grass with high pressure to extract its water and oil was obtained in this way.

We adapted linseed oil stone from hundreds of years ago to the mill we built by simulating it.