2019 “The Future Is Now” – More Than Just a Nightclub
Back then, going out at night in Istanbul was not just about stepping outside.
It was preparation.
It was a state of mind.
In addition, a few names defined that state of mind.
Among them, the most talked-about was Ceylan Çaplı.
She was not just a club owner; she was a visionary.
In the venues she opened, music did not exist on its own; it was crafted together with the atmosphere.
The lighting, the decor, the sound, even the energy of the crowd, all were part of a single composition.
People did not just have fun in her clubs; they were reborn within a culture.
Born from Ceylan Çaplı’s vision, 2019 was established in 2019, in the middle of a car graveyard, on the dark roads of Maslak,roads that reeked of the auto industry.
Just like a scene from a movie…
It was a fantasy meant to be experienced, not merely seen.
In those years, no one who stepped inside was just going out to have fun.They were becoming part of a story. In fact, most of them, without even realizing it, became the heroes of that story.
Istanbul’s nightlife has seen many legends, but 2019 Maslak was something else entirely.
We are not talking about a dance floor or a venue.
We are talking about a universe, a timeline, a manifesto.
The Birth of 2019: The Search for a Summer Venue
The popularity of 14, 19, and 20 knew no bounds.
There was only one question circulating around Ceylan:
“Won’t there be a summer venue?”
Ceylan listened to everyone.
She asked for opinions. She weighed them carefully.
She chose the most logical option—and then imagined one-step beyond it.
It was during those very years that the legendary musician Özkan Uğur, whom we have since lost, named the new place2019.
The name itself opened the door to the venue— to a utopian, dystopian, cinematic story.
The Story Was This
In 2019, a major nuclear war had taken place.
Almost all of humanity had been wiped out.
The last refuge, where the few surviving humans had gathered… this was it.
Until that day, no nightclub in Turkey had ever been a fully realized universe.
This was not a concept.
It was a performance space built after the apocalypse.
A Universe Born in Maslak’s Car Graveyard
The location chosen for the venue was on everyone’s lips:
— “Who would go there? It’s a godforsaken place!”
Maslak was still a dark, deserted auto-industrial zone, long before skyscrapers rose.
The chosen area was a real car graveyard.
That is exactly why it was perfect.
Ceylan and her team did not try to beautify anything.
On the contrary, everything that existed became the spirit of the space.
Scrap cars were stacked on either side of the entrance.
A DJ booth was made from a truck bed.
Old cement towers were illuminated.
Piles of burnt tires were not decoration, but reality itself.
The dance floor was surrounded by metal profiles and transformed into a plexiglass dome.
2019 went down in history as Turkey’s first post-apocalyptic nightclub.
Opening: An Explosion
Then, 2019 opened.
It opened like an eruption.
High society, artists, foreigners, businesspeople, outsiders, students…
Everyone was there.
Everyone was breathing the same air.
No one was a stranger to anyone—yet everyone was foreign.
In the middle of the dance floor stood a giant swing.
Those who rode it flew over the entire space, if only for a moment.
Inside the water towers, dancers brought from the Netherlands performed while showering.
People watched, spellbound.
No one spoke.
Everyone whispered.
The press was not allowed in.
There were no phones.
No photos.
Everything existed only in memory and those memories turned into a burning inferno.
People from other cities began flocking to Istanbul just to witness this legend.
In 2019, Time Flowed Differently
The lights would go out.
Then they would come back on.
The music never stopped.
Sometimes we left at dawn.
Sometimes we stayed until noon.
No one wanted the night to end.
There were moments when the music would stop for a second, and the entire club would erupt in applause…
Scenes you would never forget for the rest of your life.
2019 was freedom embodied in space.
The European music press featured it on the cover of European Discotheque Review.
When foreign artists came to Istanbul, they would first perform their concert, and then head straight to 2019.
People still talk about how Metallica partied there until dawn in 1993.
Ceylan and her team launched the first and only dance music radio station of the era, broadcasting on 96.2 FM to its loyal listeners in 1994.
Announced as a surprise, this initiative generated enormous excitement, becoming the talk of Istanbul’s nightlife for a long time.
The radio station opened in Istanbul’s Kasımpaşa district, inside an abandoned flour factory, another first.
The opening, attended by special guests, lasted three full days and nights of uninterrupted broadcasting and partying, and remains etched in our memories.
Every section of the Kasımpaşa Flour Factory was decoratedwith a different concept.
What I can never forget is the chill-out area on the upper floor:Turkish rugs and carpets created an ethnic, bohemian atmosphere; combined with massive Buddha statues, the space transformed into a timeless sanctuary.
We listened to the Dance Department broadcast slot and were introduced to Detroit techno.
We began our days with chill-out music.
Names like DJ Ufuk, Tangun, Kürşat, Güney, and Utkan were not just playing music; they were building a culture, a language.
Unfortunately, Radio 2019 changed hands in the following years, ending it, as we knew it.
However, the story did not end there.
Years later, on January 1, 2019, the radio station made a surprise comeback, returning to the airwaves with its original team.
Then, on April 19, 2019, the legendary club 2019 returned for one night with a tribute party.
2019 Radio is still broadcasting today. Perhaps you will look at its programming schedule.
The Essence of 2019
Despite its short lifespan—**lasting only two years and ending under the political pressures and impositions of the era—**2019 was not merely an entertainment venue, but a way of life.
What mattered at Ceylan’s clubs was: not your clothes, not your money, not your title.
What mattered was simply being there that night.
At the height of the 14–19–20 trilogy, Istanbul’s nightlife experienced a rupture with 2019.
An unpleasant one-night incident—the violation of the venue’s privacy through secret filming—triggered a domino effect.
2019 changed hands.
19 and 20 temporarily closed.
Nevertheless, the demands of the regulars never ceased.
The pressure on Ceylan increased.
Eventually, Ceylan could not take it anymore and, after a while, reopened 19 and 20 under a single roof, renamed 2C.
It was short-lived—but it left its mark.
Then life went on.
In addition, one day, the news that broke our hearts arrived.
Ceylan was no longer with us.
An era truly ended.
However, the stage she built still stands— in the light, in the sound, in the rhythm of the crowd, in that invisible electricity flowing through Istanbul’s nights.That is exactly what Ceylan Çaplı gave to this city. Not creating an atmosphere but creating a spirit.
Today, the Taksim Municipality shops in Talimhane, where the 14–19–20 clubs once stood, have been replaced by entirely different businesses.
In fact, a parking lot now occupies the space where 19 and 20 once existed.
I remember pulling over one day as I drove past after the clubs were demolished.
I got out.
I walked among the rubble.
Moreover, I picked up a small stone from the ground, something no one else would have noticed.
That stone was a remnant of a time that held the most important turning points of my youth, its greatest transformations.To others, it was nothing.
Construction debris.A burden.Nevertheless, to me, it meant everything. Because some memories live not in places, but in the traces they leave within a person.
In addition, some stones carry not history’s memory, but the soul’s.
Some nights never end.
They only change location.
2019 is not an address today.
Not a sign.
It is not a dance floor, a DJ booth, or a building.
2019 is the courage of a generation, a brief moment of freedom a city allowed itself, the vibration felt just before the lights came on.
That stone I took from the demolished walls of Talimhane is still here.
It is not a window display decoration.
It is certainly not a souvenir.
That stone reminds me: Once upon a time, this city made room for youth.
It made room for difference.
It lived the night not as entertainment, but as expression.
2019 was not a nightclub.
It was a possibility.
Moreover, we lived inside that possibility.
The lights went out.
However, the trace remains.
Artist / Designer
Kamil Çakır
