Cantilevered Upper Floor Cihangir & Oriel Bay Construction in Ottoman Konaks

In the historic urban centers of the Ottoman Empire, property boundaries at ground level were strictly bounded by ancient property rights, pedestrian mule paths, and steep natural terrain. Street alignments in cities like Safranbolu, Bursa, and Istanbul wound unpredictably across rocky knolls and ravine contours. Consequently, the ground-floor stone footprints of domestic residences were almost invariably trapezoidal, triangular, or irregularly angled. The cantilevered upper floor—known universally as the çıkma—evolved as an ingenious architectural mechanism to rectify these imperfect base polygons into perfectly square, orthogonal living spaces on the upper floors.

By projecting floor joists outward over the street line, master carpenters could pivot the upper wall alignment independently of the foundation wall below. A house with a triangular ground-floor podium could thus support a magnificent rectangular upper living floor with parallel walls and right-angled corners, essential for laying woven carpets, aligning perimeter built-in seating banquettes (sedir), and executing symmetrical coffered ceilings. This structural projection transformed irregular street geometries into an aerial urban landscape of soaring overhangs, creating shadowed pedestrian alleyways protected from rain and blistering summer sun.

The structural engineering of the Ottoman cantilever relies on precise load balancing between cantilevered projections and internal back-spans. Floor joists (kiriş), hewn from seasoned black pine or oak with cross-sections typically measuring 12x18 cm to 15x22 cm, are laid continuously across internal load-bearing partitions before extending outward past the stone lower wallplate (taban). Classical Ottoman carpentry standards dictated that the internal back-span of the joist must measure at least twice the length of the external cantilever to counteract rotational overturning moments caused by floor live loads and furniture.

Where projections exceeded 60 to 80 centimeters, simple flexural joist strength became insufficient to prevent downward deflection and creep. Carpenters solved this through the eliböğründe—an inclined timber compression strut set at an angle of roughly 45 to 60 degrees. Hewn from dense oak or naturally curved pine crooks, the upper end of the eliböğründe was notched into the underside of the cantilevered joist with a stepped bird's-mouth tenon, while the lower thrust heel was notched into the vertical timber studs or bedded into a protruding stone corbel in the foundation wall. This triangulated trussing redirected bending moments into pure compressive loads directed safely into the massive lower masonry podium.

While a simple düz çıkma carried the entire exterior facade forward in a straight line, the most expressive manifestations of the technique were articulated oriel bays, known variously as cumba, şahnişin, or cihangir. Projecting outward from the center or corner of a room, these bays created intimate, three-sided viewing alcoves elevated high above the street. The term cihangir—meaning 'world-conquering' or 'panoramic'—was reserved for expansive multi-sided polygonal bay pavilions protruding from the principal guest chamber (başoda), providing unobstructed views of the surrounding hillsides, minarets, and river canyons.

To minimize dead weight on the extended cantilevers, bay walls were framed as ultralight post-and-beam assemblies. Studs were placed close together to form continuous horizontal ribbon windows (giyotin pencere), framed in fine Scots pine and operated by counterweighted cords. Because these bays projected beyond neighboring facades, they captured cross-directional breezes that could be scooped into the interior through adjustable sashes. Beneath the windows, the exterior belly of the overhang was clad with concave timber bell-cast moldings or curved plaster coves, protecting the underlying structural joists from driving precipitation.

The fenestration of the Ottoman cantilevered bay was inseparable from the cultural institution of the kafes—an intricately turned wooden lattice screen mounted across the exterior window sashes. Fabricated from slender slats of cedar, walnut, or pine intersecting at 45-degree or 90-degree angles, the kafes formed a dense geometrical screen that served both social and microclimatic functions. In traditional Ottoman society, visual privacy was paramount; female household members spent considerable daytime hours in the upper oriel bays weaving, entertaining, and overseeing children.

The optical physics of the kafes exploited daylight contrast: an occupant inside the dimly illuminated room could see through the small square apertures to observe street commerce and visitors with complete clarity, while a person standing outside in the bright Anatolian sun saw only a dark, impenetrable surface. Beyond privacy, the wooden lattice functioned as an effective solar shading device, dissipating direct solar radiation before it struck the window glass, while diffusing Black Sea breezes and preventing wind-driven drafts from whistling through the joinery seams.