Orangeries, part of the longstanding and established culture surrounding the preservation and cultivation of delicate plants in Istanbul, gained a new status in the late nineteenth century through changing architectural features and usage patterns. This study primarily establishes a historical background regarding the role of orangeries, which served as new interior spaces accessible to people alongside the cultivation of specific plants, within the context of Istanbul’s palace and residential culture. By utilizing archival records and architectural drawings from the Ottoman Archives of the Presidency (BOA), photographs from the Yıldız Albums, and literary narratives, the research investigates the architectural characteristics of these structures during the nineteenth century, discussing the transformations in garden and landscape traditions and the consequent increase in their visibility. The orangeries evolved into greenhouses through an experimental process encompassing technological advancements that pioneered modern architecture in Europe and provided new spatial experiences with significant impacts in public domains. The potential of these structures to emerge as new public venues within the Ottoman capital was also examined in a comparative framework alongside their European counterparts. The final section of the text addresses the historical legacy of residential gardens and orangeries, which have largely disappeared, leaving minimal physical traces and with their documentation almost nonexistent, in light of the substantial transformations experienced by Istanbul’s urban landscape and housing culture in the twentieth century. Another aim of this part is to explore the place of this lost tradition within collective memory through literary narratives. 

Historically, the practice of cultivating plants beyond their native climates dates back to antiquity. Particularly aromatic plants such as oranges and lemons have been preserved in special structures across the Middle East and Europe for centuries. The first citrus trees were brought to the Mediterranean and Europe from India via Iran in the late thirteenth century. This geographical relationship is reflected in the similar nomenclature for lemons across Persian, Arabic, Turkish, and various European languages. The modern history of orangeries began in the sixteenth century in Europe, where they served as status symbols in the gardens of the nobility and wealthy merchants. Early examples were constructed in France and Italy to shelter citrus trees during the colder months, featuring wooden frames and transparent surfaces. In the succeeding centuries, these structures evolved into larger, more monumental masonry forms, distinguished by their expanded glazed surfaces. Similarly, orangeries in Istanbul also have a rich historical context, particularly in relation to the Ottoman cuisine and the palace’s demand for citrus products. Archival evidence from the sixteenth century indicates that lemons were transported to Istanbul from the southern regions while citrus trees were being grown in the gardens of the Topkapı Palace. Beginning in the late seventeenth century, the earliest references to orangery structures appear in repair records for the Tersane Gardens, Beylerbeyi, Beşiktaş, and Topkapı Palaces. 

In the nineteenth century, the plants to protect and grow inside them varied, including tropical and sub-tropical plants. The challenge of growing them in the inconvenient climates of Northern Europe brought innovation to these structures in terms of structural systems, materials, production methods, and acclimatization technologies. The new glasshouses of the mid-nineteenth century were new scientific grounds for botanical and horticultural research as well as architectural laboratories for testing new materials, tectonics, and spatial experiences, with a crucial impact on the advancement of modern architecture.

The technological evolution and proliferation of orangeries and greenhouse structures in Europe, particularly in England, occurred through the possibilities provided by prefabrication and modularity. This process also facilitated their arrival in the Ottoman capital. An early example in Istanbul is Sultan Mahmud II’s order for a flour mill, which marked the beginning of the construction of prefabricated wrought iron structures in the capital. The introduction of new orangeries made from prefabricated wrought iron and glass, imported from England, accelerated these technological transfers.

Notably, in the palatial gardens, new orangeries were designed with new tectonics and built as prefabricated iron and glass structures brought from England starting in the 1850s. Dolmabahçe Palace, with its monumental architectural design, opened toward the Bosporus while being separated from the city by a long, high wall at its western boundary. The Camlı Köşk (Glass Kiosk), a winter garden placed on the palace’s solid wall, was characterized by its transparent façade featuring various types of colorful and crystal-like glass, and it was described by the late Ottoman author Hâlit Ziya Uşaklıgil as a “spectacle” overlooking the city. Another intriguing architectural structure within the same palace complex was the twin orangeries made of glass and wrought iron, flanking the southern gate leading to Mâbeyn Garden. A third orangery, referred to as the "billûr saray" (glass palace), was constructed in the enclosed rear garden of Çırağan Palace following an extended construction period. Detailed archival correspondence traces each stage of its ordering, manufacturing, and transportation processes, shedding light on the unexpected challenges that emerged and documenting the intermediary agents engaged throughout this intricate process in 1859-64. Commissioned by

Sultan Abdülmecid, this structure was ordered as an integral element of the Sultan’s vision for a romantic English garden.

In 1841, as house advertisements began appearing in the rapidly expanding newspapers, listings mentioned proper< ties with orangeries across various city districts. Although the spatial characteristics of these residences indicated that they were not particularly exclusive, it can be asserted that these orangeries were originally constructed as modest timber structures, as iron was not widely available at the time.

From the 1870s onwards, a commercialization process accompanied the formal and technological evolution of orangeries in England. These structures began to be publicly experienced in botanical gardens and parks, while standardized designs and reduced costs led to their availability in catalogs for middle-class homes. By the late nineteenth century in Istanbul, while orangeries remained confined to the private gardens of palaces and residences, their variety and visibility increased. During the formation of Yıldız Palace, a French influence focusing on orangeries and greenhouse structures gained prominence in palace gardens, following the implementation of the English romantic garden tradition by Bavyerian Christian Sester and his apprentices in the late nineteenth century. Sultan Abdülhamid II, who rarely left Yıldız Palace during his reign from 1876 to 1909, developed a passion for carpentry, gardening, and the care of exotic plants gathered from around the world. A significant figure during this period was Charles Henry, a French greenhouse expert appointed as the palace’s last head gardener around 1900, who introduced a more functional hot water climate control system for the greenhouse instead of dry channels. Photographs from the Yıldız Albums showcase a wide array of glass and wrought iron orangeries built in the gardens of the Yıldız Palace.

By the second half of the nineteenth century, landscaping and plant cultivation projects involving local and foreign gardeners had proliferated, leading to the appearance of kiosks, flower beds, artificial ponds, and large, transparent orangeries in many home gardens. Photographs from the Yıldız Albums depict high-ranking Muslim and non-Muslim bureaucrats’ gardens in neighborhoods like Nişantaşı and Beşiktaş, where orangeries were integral components of the picturesque landscapes, indicating the palace’s influence on urban gardening esthetics. The emergence of these structures also reflected a fashion in the period’s popular culture. Publications like Servet-i Fünûn and Şehbâl reminded readers of the appropriate time to move delicate flowers into orangeries, showcasing images of winter blooms.

Refik Halit Karay (1888-1965), a late Ottoman and early Republican author, narrated the spatial and social transformations of Istanbul in parallel with Türkiye’s political history, with a melancholic narrative in his various works. In his 1943 book titled "Three Generations, Three Lives," (Üç Nesil Üç Hayat), he comparably depicted daily life in Istanbul during the reigns of Sultan Abdulaziz, Sultan Abdulhamid II, and the Republican period. Karay described the landscape fashion reflected in the garden of an upper<class mansion in the Hırka-ı Şerif neighborhood of the Fatih district during the "Aziz Era," followed by the transformation of orangeries (limonluk) into "ser" during the Abdulhamid II era, and finally recounted the sad story of the warm-climate trees that lost their mansions and orangeries.

Orangeries appear to have become a symbol of the spatial transformation accompanying Istanbul’s social history. Another aspect of the change narrated by Karay for Fatih occurred across the Bosporus, in the garden villas and mansions of Kadıköy. The many innovations that transformed residential life and social interactions also altered the role of gardens in everyday life, rendering orangeries increasingly obsolete. Another literary testimony regarding this situation is found in the novel "A Rose Bloomed in My Garden" (Bahçemde Bir Gül Açtı) by Mahmut Yesari (1895-1945), another late Ottoman and early Republican author, published in serialized form in the newspaper Milliyet. Here, the tension between the old and the new is explored within the context of significant societal changes, depicting orangeries as burdens of the past.

In the societal context of the Early Republic, a noteworthy decision emerged from the political will advocating for public participation in urban spaces: the relocation of two orangeries from the Yıldız Palace to the garden of the Turkish Grand National Assembly in Ankara, thereby making them accessible for public use. Postcards depicting the Assembly garden feature the cross-vaulted orangery, transferred from Yıldız Palace, positioned behind a cascading fountain. This larger orangery was demolished for reasons that remain unknown between 1935 and 1937, while no further information or documentation regarding the smaller structure has been located. This act of relocation and transformation underscores the shifting values and architectural priorities of the time, reflecting a broader trend in the reimagining of public spaces in the context of the modern Turkish identity.

Finally, this research raises two significant themes related to architectural history. First, it addresses the structural evolution of the long<established tradition of orangeries in Istanbul, influenced by European technologies, specialized botanical interests, and increasing plant diversity. These structures often remained anonymous and did not participate in industrial production as standardized buildings, warranting further research. Second, the discussion points to the limited interaction between these private residential spaces and the public realms in urban settings during the Late Ottoman period. The Early Republican period saw a unique attempt to preserve this tradition through the relocation of two Yıldız Palace orangeries to the Turkish Grand National Assembly’s garden in Ankara, reflecting a political commitment to public accessibility in garden spaces. Still, while innovative designs existed, their visibility

and accessibility in the urban space remained restricted, highlighting the need for further investigation.

Overall, orangeries in Istanbul have evolved as integral components of garden culture, becoming expressions of a new class esthetic in the nineteenth century. By the mid-twentieth century, they had largely disappeared from the urban landscape. This study highlights how orangeries, initially designed to protect valuable citrus plants like lemon, gained architectural prominence in Istanbul gardens. In Europe and North America, orangeries similarly evolved as pivotal structures in modern architectural history, marking advancements in materials, structural techniques, and spatial experiences, with their function gradually shifting from plant conservation to human use. In Istanbul, the most refined examples of orangeries appeared in palace gardens, influenced by European styles, and by the Late Ottoman period, they had become status symbols in private gardens as well. Archival drawings and photographs show them as either stand-alone buildings or extensions of the main residences. The rise of iron and glass industrial production enriched their technical and esthetic qualities although there is no evidence that they were mass-produced as prefabricated structures.

In conclusion, gardens represent some most fragile and variable spaces in architectural history, often eluding documentation. The visual materials accompanying this study testify to a distinct aspect of Istanbul’s history, showcasing the delicate structures and plants that are increasingly difficult to trace. The ongoing rapid transformation of Istanbul threatens not only its architectural fabric but also its natural landscapes, complicating efforts to trace the architectural culture nourished by gardens and plants. Contemporary urban transformation policies, which prioritize buildings over the broader landscape, along with significant market pressures on urban land, place garden and plant

culture at risk of near-total extinction. This study aims to illuminate the nearly lost spatial sensitivity embedded in Istanbul’s historical landscape and its collective memory, contributing to discussions that may aid in reviving this cultural heritage.