What motivates people to collect art? And which paths lead them there?
In our Private View series, art collectors share insights into the personal stories behind their collections. What sparked their interest in art? Which works accompany them over the years? And how do artists, social developments, and individual life paths shape their view of art and collecting?

In this edition, we speak with Öner Kocabeyoğlu, founder of the Papko Art Collection. What began with a single artwork has developed into a collection of modern Turkish art that is consciously positioned within an international context. Kocabeyoğlu is particularly interested in artists whose work is shaped by migration, cultural exchange, and the connections of the École de Paris. He understands his collection as a living archive of this modernity and as a contribution to a cultural dialogue that extends beyond geographical boundaries.

What sparked your interest in collecting art and how did your collection begin?
It started with a spark, almost by accident. Years ago, I attended a small auction, not with the intention of buying, but simply out of curiosity. There, I encountered a work by Selim Turan, a key figure of modern Turkish art. Something about it spoke to me—not just aesthetically, but emotionally. That moment changed everything.
Turan’s connection between abstract form and cultural identity immediately resonated with me. From there, the collection grew organically, driven by curiosity and by the desire to discover further artists who engage with similar themes.

How do you define collecting and what does it mean to you?
For me, collecting is not merely a question of ownership, it is an act of preservation. To be a collector means to protect artworks that carry cultural, historical, and emotional significance. I see this as a responsibility to ensure that these works remain accessible across generations.
Collecting is also a form of learning and connection. It brings me into dialogue with artists, with their stories, and with the social contexts from which their works emerge. I don’t collect for prestige or investment. I collect because I want to contribute to a living archive of thought, feeling, and form.
A collection that is not seen, shared, and discussed quickly becomes private self-indulgence. That’s why I’ve always opened my collection to exhibitions and loans, because art ultimately belongs to everyone.

Are there specific themes, artists, or periods that shape your collection?
Yes. My collection is strongly shaped by modern Turkish art, particularly works from the mid-twentieth century and by artists associated with the École de Paris. I am especially interested in works that engage with questions of identity, modernization, and cultural dialogue.
I feel particularly drawn to positions that developed their practice between East and West and formed a distinct visual language out of this tension. Artists like Abidin Dino, Fikret Mualla, and Fahrelnissa Zeid are central to the collection. In this sense, the collection also tells a broader story about the development of modern art in Turkey and about the international networks in which these artists were embedded.

What role do intuition, research, and personal relationships play in building your collection?
Intuition is often the starting point. A work speaks to me, sometimes immediately, before I can fully articulate why. But over time, I’ve learned to combine this intuition with research. When I see a work that moves me, I don’t rush. I ask: Who is the artist? What does this piece say in the context of their practice or in art history?
Personal relationships also play an important role. Encounters with artists, curators, and fellow collectors deepen understanding and create context far beyond the individual object. This combination of instinct and knowledge helps me make meaningful long-term decisions. Taste evolves. Knowledge deepens it. But intuition—that’s the spark. Without it, collecting becomes transactional.

Which moment has been particularly challenging or formative for you as a collector?
A particularly formative moment was lending a work I deeply loved to a major museum exhibition. There’s a specific feeling when a work you’ve lived with for years suddenly leaves your hands. At first, it felt like a loss—I hesitated because the work had become part of my emotional landscape.
But the experience reminded me that collecting isn’t about possession, it’s about stewardship. Seeing people engage with it, ask questions, feel moved, that outweighed the sense of letting go. Art gains meaning through encounter.
Another challenge has been resisting trends. The art world can be noisy, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts and collect what resonates emotionally and intellectually. That discipline has shaped the integrity of my collection.

How would you describe the current art and collectors’ scene in Istanbul and Turkey today?
The art scene in Istanbul and Turkey is vibrant, but complex. Interest in contemporary art is growing. We see more exhibitions, fairs, and dialogue, which is encouraging.
But collecting here is sometimes misunderstood. For some, it’s still seen as a trend or social currency. True collecting requires commitment, research, and responsibility, not just to the artwork, but to the artist and the public.
There are clear structural gaps. Many collections remain private and undocumented, limiting access and visibility. What’s missing is stronger institutional infrastructure and sustained public engagement. I dream of a museum in Istanbul that rivals the Pompidou, not just in scale, but in vision.
Turkey’s greatest strength is its artistic heritage, from the Paris Ekolü to contemporary voices. The talent is there. What we need now is more infrastructure, education, and generosity.

Which misconceptions about collecting do you encounter most often?
The most common misconception is that collecting is primarily about wealth or status—that collectors are investors or trendsetters. Of course, the financial aspect is part of the art market, but genuine collectors are driven by passion, curiosity, and a deep connection to art.
Another misconception is that collecting is inherently selfish. I see it as something that creates community and cultural value when collectors make their works accessible, support artists, and collaborate with institutions. A collection that isn’t seen is just private indulgence. Art deserves to breathe, to inspire.

What three pieces of advice would you give to young collectors?
First of all, begin with passion and curiosity. Spend time with art, visit exhibitions, read, and keep learning. Whenever possible, get to know artists personally and try to understand their processes and motivations.
Secondly, do not rush. Collecting is not something to be accelerated. It is a long term journey that unfolds over time.
And finally, do not let trends or market values guide you too strongly. Collect works that genuinely resonate with you and carry meaning. Above all, be generous. Art should be shared, through loans, exhibitions, or simply by inviting others to encounter the works you live with.

Öner Kocabeyoğlu
Papko Art Collection

💻 www.papkoartcollectio.com

📸 IG: papkoartcollection and onerkocabeyoglu