"Through hardships to the stars."

"The best things are built in silence."

Not in boardrooms. Not in pitch decks. Not in the noise of an industry obsessed with raising rounds and shipping half-finished dreams.

In silence. Where every decision carries weight. Where there is no one to impress. Only something to build that is worthy of existing.

This is where Beste began.

In Turkish, beste means a musical composition. A piece of music written with intention, where every note exists for a reason and nothing is arbitrary.

It is also the name of a daughter. A word spoken with tenderness before it became a product. Some things carry meaning that no branding agency could manufacture.

And it is a quiet declaration of what we believe software should be: composition first. Not templates stitched together. Not drag-and-drop compromises. But pages composed with the same care a musician brings to a score. Where structure, rhythm, and whitespace all matter.

Three meanings. One word. No accident.

The web was supposed to be the great equalizer.

Anyone could publish. Anyone could build. Anyone could have a voice.

Instead, an industry emerged that profits from confusion. Tools that call themselves "free" until you need the one feature that matters. Builders that promise simplicity but deliver a maze. Platforms that hold your work hostage behind paywalls and proprietary lock-ins.

Somewhere along the way, the market decided that good enough was good enough. That people deserved clunky builders, slow-loading pages, and interfaces designed to upsell rather than to serve.

We disagree.

Not politely. Not diplomatically. We disagree the way a craftsman disagrees with a factory that stamps out brittle furniture and calls it design.

People deserve tools that respect their time, their money, and their intelligence.

Simplicity is not the absence of power. It is power, distilled.

Leonardo wrote: "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." Five centuries later, the software industry still hasn't learned this. We build for the person who wants the complex made simple. Not the simple made complicated.

Time is the only currency that matters.

Every hour someone spends fighting their website builder is an hour stolen from their craft, their business, their life. We treat your time as if it were our own. Because we know what it costs.

Honesty over growth.

We will not manufacture urgency. We will not hide pricing behind "contact sales." We will not call something free when it isn't. If the product cannot speak for itself, no amount of marketing should.

One person can build something that matters.

Throughout history, the most enduring works were born not from crowds, but from a single mind that refused to abandon its vision. We do not believe that great things require large teams. We believe they require clarity of vision and the stubbornness to see it through.

Behind Beste, there is one person.

One developer. Twenty-five years of writing code. Not to ship features, but to understand what software can be when it is built with patience.

No investors to appease. No board to report to. No quarterly targets that force corners to be cut.

Just the quiet, stubborn work of building something right.

This is not a limitation. This is a choice. The same choice every independent craftsman has made throughout history: to trade scale for integrity, speed for precision, noise for meaning.

Every line of code in Beste exists because someone decided it should. Not because a sprint board said it was next.

We are not building the biggest website builder. We are building the one that should have existed all along.

The one where making something beautiful doesn't require a degree. Where simple things are simple. Where your work belongs to you. Where the tool disappears and only your creation remains.

Per aspera ad astra. Through hardships to the stars.

The story is still being written…

— Uğur Sözen, Founder of Beste.