Tell us a bit about yourself - all the basics! Where you’re from, where you grew up, interests, hobbies, siblings, causes you’re passionate about, anything else that comes to mind…

I’m a Turkish-Belgian director who grew up in Istanbul, Turkey. My passion for cinema led me to study film at Lyon 2 Lumière University in France. During my final year, I discovered the works of documentary filmmakers like Jonas Mekas, Chris Marker, and Agnès Varda, which deeply influenced my artistic perspective. After spending a year in Brazil as part of an exchange program, I moved to Argentina to pursue a master’s degree in documentary filmmaking at Universidad del Cine in Buenos Aires. There, I became fascinated with theories of haptic visuality, how film can evoke tactile and sensory experiences, and wrote my thesis, "The Texture of Emotions: A Sensory Approach to Naomi Kawase’s Documentary Work.” Beyond film, I’m drawn to storytelling that bridges the personal and the universal, and I’m particularly passionate about narratives that explore identity, memory and human connection.

How did you become interested in film?

I’ve known since I was 10 years old that I wanted to make films. My mother’s cassette camera was my first tool, a magical device that allowed me to experiment, play, and dream. Over the years, what started as a childhood fascination grew into a real passion and a lifelong pursuit. It’s funny to think that now, years later, I’m working with my family archives shot on that same camera. My aunts used to film themselves making funny short films, my mother documented my entire childhood with it, and eventually, it became my own first instrument for filmmaking. That humble camera didn’t just capture our family history, it taught me how ordinary moments, when framed with love and attention, could become extraordinary stories.

How did you arrive at the subject of your Close Up project?

Two years ago, my aunties asked me to make a humorous documentary about their relationship to share with friends at their 40th anniversary party. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I was already working on another project, but something else was stirring in me: I had just fallen in love for the first time, and the idea of capturing real, enduring love on film wouldn’t leave my mind. The next morning, I called my aunts and asked, "What if we make a feature documentary instead?" . That’s how it all began. Their story, intertwined with my own reflections on love, became the heart of this project.

If you could have coffee with any filmmaker, living or dead, who would it be and why?

I would have loved to have coffee with Agnès Varda; I always dreamed of meeting her one day. Her passing deeply affected me. I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news, struck by the sadness of never getting the chance to meet her. Her work has been a constant source of inspiration: playful yet profound, intimate yet universal. She had a rare gift for weaving together the poetic and the everyday, inviting audiences into her world with warmth and curiosity. More than anything, I admire her fearless creativity, she redefined what documentaries could be, blending fiction, autobiography, and experimentation with such freedom. She opened my eyes to new ways of seeing, both in cinema and in life.