Hagia Sophia History. From Byzantine Glory to Modern Day

Today I want to introduce you to one of the most monumental buildings of Ancient Europe – the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. I had always thought of stepping inside and seeing it with my own eyes. When I finally managed to do so last year, I can’t say I was either surprised or disappointed, as I was already well-acquainted with the history of this temple. Yet, with the splendour of other sacred buildings – Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican – that I have had the chance to admire in recent years, and with the Blue Mosque standing right next to the Hagia Sophia, I couldn’t help but feel a certain disappointment at the way its interior looks today.

Let us then look into its history. Let us try to answer the question of what made this temple – the most illustrious and most exquisitely decorated Christian building of its time – although still standing in an almost intact mass, no longer inspire awe with its interior décor as it once did. Let us trace the events that, over the centuries, have shaped its present appearance.

The Hagia Sophia, meaning Holy Wisdom, is actually the third temple to stand on this site. The first Basilica of Holy Wisdom in Constantinople was built by Emperor Constantius II in AD 360 – a church of the Eastern (Byzantine) rite, still within the single, undivided universal Church, though with liturgy in Greek and traditions distinct from those in the West. It was destroyed by fire in AD 404 during riots sparked by the exile of Patriarch John Chrysostom. The second church, larger and more magnificent, was built by Emperor Theodosius II in AD 415 – also in the Eastern rite, still formally united with the Western Church, yet with growing liturgical and theological differences. This one too was destroyed – in AD 532, during the Nika Revolt that shook the city. The third and most famous Hagia Sophia, whose essential form has survived to this day, was built by Emperor Justinian I. Completed in AD 537, it served as the cathedral of the Eastern rite and the principal church of the Patriarchate of Constantinople. It was a true masterpiece of Late Antique architecture – designed by Anthemius of Tralles and Isidore of Miletus, with a monumental dome, gilded mosaics, and marble cladding.

Very little written evidence has survived describing what the Hagia Sophia once looked like. Our modern vision is based on fragments of sources from the 6th to the 12th century, chiefly the works of Procopius of Caesarea, Paulus Silentiarius, and Bishop Anthony of Novgorod. Upon crossing the threshold of the Hagia Sophia, one would enter a space that seemed not of this world. The dome appeared to float in the air, suspended by an invisible chain of light, whose glow reflected off thousands of golden tesserae. Rays streaming through rows of windows spilled into the interior, mingling with the glow of lamps and candles. The walls and floors were clad in marbles of green, purple, white, and black, brought from the farthest provinces of the empire – from Thessaly, Egypt, and Phrygia. The great altar gleamed with gold, silver, and precious stones. Above it rose a ciborium, supported by columns of green stone adorned with gilded capitals. In the apse, high above the altar, shone a mosaic of the Mother of God with the Child, and below it rows of angels and saints. Along the naves and galleries stretched richly decorated balustrades, and everywhere the eye turned, the golden backgrounds of mosaics shimmered.

Though it has withstood the centuries, the Hagia Sophia suffered serious damage from earthquakes on several occasions – notably in AD 558, 989, and 1346, when parts of its dome collapsed and had to be rebuilt. Yet the greatest blow came not from nature but from human hands – during the Fourth Crusade in AD 1204, and, importantly, at the hands of Christians who were meant to defend the faith, yet ended up plundering the most illustrious Christian building of the age. It should be remembered, however, that since the Great Schism of AD 1054, the temple had represented the Eastern rite, and was thus an Orthodox cathedral, not a Latin (Western Church) one.

At that time, the Angelos dynasty ruled Byzantium. In AD 1195, Emperor Isaac II Angelos was deposed and blinded by his own brother, Alexios III, who seized the throne. Isaac’s son, Alexios IV, fled to the West in search of help. In AD 1202, he reached the Crusaders, who were preparing an expedition to Egypt but lacked the funds to pay for the Venetian fleet. Alexios IV offered them an extraordinary bargain: if they helped him reclaim the throne, he would pay them a vast sum, provide supplies, and promised to unite the Eastern Church with Rome.

The Crusaders, financially bound by their contract with the Venetians, agreed. In AD 1203, they captured Constantinople and placed Isaac II and Alexios IV on the throne. The promised funds, however, proved impossible to raise without plunder and drastic taxation. In January AD 1204, a revolt broke out in the city. Alexios IV was overthrown and killed, and power passed to Alexios V Mourtzouphlos. In April AD 1204, the Crusaders attacked and seized the city once again – this time for themselves.

During the three-day sack, palaces, monasteries, and churches – including the Hagia Sophia – were plundered. Altars of marble and gold were dismantled, mosaics were smashed or prised apart for their golden tiles, and the church’s interior became a scene of profanation – chroniclers speak of horses being led inside and of feasts held in the sanctuary.

Among the priceless relics and treasures looted in AD 1204 was the Crown of Thorns, formerly kept in the imperial chapel of St Mary of the Pharos within the Great Palace. It fell into the hands of the Venetians, probably as part of the Crusaders’ debt repayment to the Republic. It was later purchased by King Louis IX of France, who brought it to Paris. To house it, the Sainte-Chapelle – a masterpiece of Rayonnant Gothic – was built between AD 1242 and 1248. The relic later passed to Notre-Dame Cathedral.

After the capture of Constantinople in AD 1204, the participants of the Fourth Crusade established the Latin Empire on its ruins, which lasted until AD 1261. Count Baldwin IX of Flanders was placed on the imperial throne and crowned in the Hagia Sophia. The church, until then the cathedral of the Patriarchate of Constantinople in the Eastern rite, was turned into a Latin cathedral, with the liturgy conducted in Latin according to the Western rite. The Orthodox patriarch was exiled and replaced by a Latin patriarch. The Latin Empire controlled only part of the former Byzantine territory, its power relying largely on Venetian support. Economically and militarily, the state was weak.

In AD 1261, the Byzantines of the Palaiologos dynasty recaptured the city, restoring the Eastern rite. Yet the empire they recovered was far smaller than in its glory days, holding mainly Constantinople, the Sea of Marmara region, parts of Thrace, and fragments of Greece. Economically devastated after the Latin occupation, its trade largely taken over by Venetians and Genoese, the empire was too poor and too weak to fully restore the Hagia Sophia. The church was repaired only provisionally, and the lost decorations and relics were never returned.

Politically, Byzantium was forced to navigate between stronger neighbours – the Latin states, Serbia, Bulgaria, and later the rising power of the Ottoman Empire. A weak economy made it impossible to maintain a large army, so the state relied mainly on alliances and mercenary troops for its defence. From the late 14th century, the Ottomans gradually seized Byzantine lands, so that by 1450 the empire had been reduced to Constantinople and a handful of nearby settlements. The city was by then sparsely populated – around 50,000-60,000 inhabitants, compared with several hundred thousand at its height in the 11th century. The Ottomans, under Sultan Mehmed II, prepared a major campaign, employing modern siege artillery, including massive bombards. The siege lasted from April until 29 May 1453, when the Turks breached the walls and entered the city.

After the capture of Constantinople in May 1453, Sultan Mehmed II almost immediately converted the Hagia Sophia into a mosque. The process began within the very first days after the city’s fall. First, the interior was cleansed, all remnants of Christian liturgy were removed, and elements essential for Muslim prayer were introduced. In the apse, a mihrab – a niche indicating the direction of Mecca – was installed, a minbar (pulpit for sermons) was added, and carpets were spread across the floor. The altar, reliquaries, and other liturgical furnishings were taken away. As a result, within just a few days of Constantinople’s capture, the Hagia Sophia was already functioning as a mosque, although the full adaptation of its architecture and aesthetics to the Islamic tradition would continue for decades.

In the first stage, the Christian mosaics and decorations were covered with cloths or a thin layer of plaster wherever required for Islamic prayer. In the 15th century, the Ottomans did not typically engage in the systematic destruction of such imagery – on the contrary, in the case of a monument as valuable and monumental as the Hagia Sophia, they favoured reversible methods, avoiding permanent interference with the decorative structure. The thin plaster was applied without deep bonding to the mosaics, making later uncovering easier. As a result, a significant portion of the mosaics survived the first decades of Ottoman rule in relatively good condition. Their complete covering or partial removal occurred only in the following centuries, usually due to renovations, moisture damage, or alterations. However, elements of gold and silver with intrinsic material value were melted down and reused for other purposes.

After the conversion of the Hagia Sophia into a mosque in 1453, work began on adding minarets, which would become a defining feature of its silhouette. The first minaret was built on the orders of Mehmed II soon after the city’s conquest, probably in brick or stone, positioned at one of the building’s corners. Its form was relatively slender and simple, in keeping with the Ottoman architecture of the time. In the 16th century, under Sultan Selim II and his successor Murad III, the renowned architect Mimar Sinan rebuilt the earlier minaret and added others, constructing them from white stone and giving them a more massive, harmonious appearance. Ultimately, the Hagia Sophia acquired four minarets – each slightly different, as they were built in different periods: the two south-western ones are larger and more solid, while the north-eastern and south-eastern are more slender. The minarets not only served a religious function (the call to prayer) but also became a visual symbol of the Islamisation of the former cathedral.

After the First World War, the Ottoman Empire, allied with Germany, was defeated. It was divided among the victorious powers, and Istanbul was occupied by British, French, and Italian forces. In Anatolia, the Turkish War of Independence (1919–1923) broke out under the leadership of Mustafa Kemal Pasha, later known as Atatürk. It ended with the Treaty of Lausanne (1923), which recognised the sovereign Turkish state. In the same year, the sultanate was abolished, and the capital was moved from Constantinople (Istanbul) to Ankara.

The Hagia Sophia continued to function as a mosque until 1931, when it was closed to worshippers by decision of the Republican authorities. In 1935, as part of Atatürk’s secular reforms, it was converted into a museum. This opened the way for the first systematic conservation work, including the uncovering of mosaics that had been hidden since the Ottoman era.

In 2020, the Hagia Sophia was once again converted into a mosque, resulting in changes to both access and interior display. The ground floor – the main prayer space – is now reserved for Muslim worshippers (primarily men), while tourists may access only the upper galleries. The mosaics on the ground floor uncovered during conservation work have not been destroyed or plastered over, but are covered with cloths and curtains. Some of these coverings remain in place even outside prayer times. By contrast, the mosaics uncovered in the upper galleries – being outside the prayer area – remain accessible and visible to visitors.

Although I was equipped with a fairly good camera, I was nevertheless unable to fully capture what was happening on the lower level of the church. The angles from which photographs can be taken from the galleries did not allow for a precise view of that part, so from my own observation I cannot confirm exactly what the situation is in the lower section of the interior. My camera has good zoom, but in darker spaces exposure time has its limits if you don’t have a tripod.

As for the upper section in the galleries, as far as I can recall, only two or three uncovered mosaics were visible. One was in relatively good condition, the other was damaged by about half – just as shown in the photographs attached. There is also a mosaic in the entrance area, outside the prayer zone, which currently has no unrestricted access, so it is likely viewed only by tourists – and it is this very mosaic that depicts the scene in which Emperor Constantine the Great offers the city, and Emperor Justinian I offers the Hagia Sophia, to the Blessed Virgin Mary and Christ. A photograph of this mosaic is also included in this material.

In the upper section, almost everywhere one can see plastered surfaces that have not been renovated for years. Much of this plaster is cracked, with peeling paint, as is clearly visible in the photographs. Conservation work, however, can be seen being carried out on the exterior of the church.

The Hagia Sophia is a living testament to centuries of faith, power, and change. Its walls still echo with the grandeur of its past, even as time and transformation have altered its form. Whatever its role, it remains one of the world’s most remarkable monuments.

Hagia Sophia History. From Byzantine Glory to Modern Day

The Blue Mosque. A Living Monument of Faith and Empire

This is the first time I’m featuring a mosque on the blog – and, surprisingly, it was also my first time ever stepping inside one. Although I spent part of my childhood in a Muslim country, I somehow never crossed that threshold until now.

The mosque we visited is one of Istanbul’s most recognisable landmarks: the Blue Mosque, officially known as the Sultan Ahmed Mosque. Unlike many religious sites, it’s open to visitors, which means you can not only admire its famous silhouette from the outside, but also experience its richly decorated interior – and, if you happen to be there at the right time, quietly observe the rhythm of daily prayer as it unfolds around you.

Istanbul became a Muslim city in 1453, when it was conquered by the Ottoman Empire under Sultan Mehmed II. At the time, it was still known as Constantinople and served as the capital of the Byzantine Empire, which had been predominantly Christian for over a thousand years.

By the mid-15th century, however, the Byzantine Empire was a shadow of its former self. It had lost nearly all its territories and was reduced to little more than the city of Constantinople and a few scattered holdings. The city was poorly defended, under-resourced, and politically isolated, with little support from Western Europe despite calls for aid.

The Ottomans, by contrast, were rising in power and territory. Under Mehmed II, they launched a carefully planned siege of Constantinople in the spring of 1453, using advanced military tactics and artillery, including one of the largest cannons ever built at the time. After 53 days, the city walls were breached, and the Ottomans entered the city on 29 May 1453.

Following the conquest, the Ottomans began transforming the city into an Islamic imperial centre. Many existing churches were gradually converted into mosques, administrative buildings, or charitable institutions. The most prominent of these was the Hagia Sophia, the former imperial church of the Byzantines, which was converted into a mosque within just five days of the city’s fall. (I’ll talk more about that in a separate post.)

The Ottomans also initiated new construction projects to reflect the city’s new role. They built imperial mosques, religious schools (madrasas), public kitchens (imarets), and hammams, gradually reshaping the city into the political, religious, and cultural heart of the Ottoman Empire. Even so, the legacy of its Byzantine past remained visible in the urban fabric of what would eventually be called Istanbul.

The Blue Mosque was commissioned by Sultan Ahmed I and built between 1609 and 1616. At the time, Hagia Sophia was still regarded as the most impressive and historically significant building in Istanbul – even though it had been converted into a mosque decades earlier.

By placing the new mosque directly across from Hagia Sophia, on the grounds of the former Byzantine hippodrome, Sultan Ahmed I clearly intended it as a counterpart – a structure that would rival the Byzantine masterpiece in scale and splendour, while affirming the strength and legitimacy of the Ottoman Empire. The Blue Mosque’s monumental proportions, central location, and elaborate decoration were all designed to symbolise both imperial authority and religious devotion. But the project also had a deeper political meaning. In the early 17th century, the Ottomans were no longer expanding as they once had. During Ahmed I’s reign, the empire was entangled in a long and expensive war with Persia (1603–1618), which brought few meaningful victories.

Against this backdrop, the construction of such a grand and visible monument was more than just an act of piety or prestige. It was a symbolic response to a period of military stagnation – a statement of resilience, intended to restore confidence, prestige, and imperial identity both at home and abroad. However, unlike earlier grand mosques of the Ottoman Empire, which were typically financed through war booty and victory endowments, the Blue Mosque was paid for using state treasury funds. This was unusual and controversial, especially since Sultan Ahmed I had not achieved significant military victories. Critics – both religious scholars and members of the elite – argued that using public money for a monumental project during a time of military stagnation and economic pressure was inappropriate and self-serving.

Sultan Ahmed I reigned from 1603 to 1617, ascending the throne at just 14 years old following the death of his father, Mehmed III, making him one of the youngest sultans in Ottoman history. His reign marked a turning point in Ottoman politics and royal tradition in several important ways.

Unlike many of his predecessors, Ahmed I broke the longstanding practice of fratricide – a brutal custom where newly crowned sultans would have their brothers executed to eliminate rival claims to the throne. Instead, he allowed his younger brother Mustafa to live. This decision would later lead to a new model of succession based on seniority within the dynasty, rather than direct descent from the previous ruler.

Politically, Ahmed’s reign was characterised by instability and military challenges, especially the prolonged and costly war with the Safavid Empire of Persia. These conflicts strained the empire’s finances and failed to produce decisive victories. At home, the empire faced economic difficulties and growing unrest among both the Janissaries and provincial governors. The Janissaries, who were originally elite soldiers, had by this time become a powerful political force. Their support or opposition could determine whether a sultan remained on the throne, and they increasingly influenced matters of succession and internal politics. Despite ascending the throne as a teenager and ruling during a challenging period, Ahmed I managed to maintain a degree of internal stability. His reign did not witness any major rebellions or coups, which, given the turbulent nature of 17th-century Ottoman politics, was a notable achievement.

He died relatively young, at the age of 27, possibly from typhus or another illness. His legacy was mixed: he left behind no great military conquests, but he did commission the Bluse Mosque – one of the most enduring architectural symbols of imperial power and religious devotion

The architect of the mosque was Sedefkâr Mehmed Ağa, a student of the renowned Mimar Sinan, the chief imperial architect of the Ottoman Empire during its architectural golden age. Ağa inherited Sinan’s approach and technical mastery. He began his career as a craftsman specialising in ornamental decoration and gradually rose through the ranks to become the empire’s chief architect. In the design of the Blue Mosque, he combined elements of traditional Islamic architecture with Byzantine Christian influences. As a result, the mosque reflects a blend of Ottoman and Byzantine styles, characteristic of the classical period of Ottoman architecture.

The most prominent Byzantine feature is the large central dome, supported by a system of pendentives and massive piers – a structural solution first perfected in Hagia Sophia. In the Blue Mosque, the central dome measures 23.5 metres in diameter and rises 43 metres above the floor. Like in Hagia Sophia, it is surrounded by a cascading system of semi-domes, which help distribute the weight outward and downward. This creates a sense of balance and monumental spaciousness characteristic of major Byzantine churches. The dome is supported by four massive piers, often referred to as elephant feet, due to their size and solidity. Another element influenced by Byzantine design is the emphasis on a vast, open interior space beneath the dome, which enhances both the visual and spiritual impact of the architecture.

At the same time, many features of the Blue Mosque are distinctly Ottoman and Islamic. The six slender minarets are unprecedented in Byzantine architecture and were considered unusual even by Ottoman standards at the time. Most mosques had only one, two, or occasionally four. According to historical accounts, this feature caused some controversy, as the mosque in Mecca also had six minarets. Matching its number of minarets could be interpreted as arrogance or even religious insensitivity. To resolve the issue, it is said that the Ottomans funded the construction of a seventh minaret for the mosque in Mecca.

One of the most striking elements of the Blue Mosque’s interior is its decoration with over 20,000 hand-painted İznik tiles, mostly in varying shades of blue – hence the building’s popular name. These ceramic tiles were produced in the town of İznik (formerly Nicaea) in western Anatolia, which was the main centre of Ottoman ceramic production from the 15th to the 17th century. The tiles feature traditional Ottoman motifs, including stylised tulips, carnations, and abstract floral patterns, rendered in vibrant blue, turquoise, red, and green.

The mosque is also illuminated by more than 200 stained glass windows, which, together with numerous chandeliers, create a soft, diffused light throughout the interior. One of the most notable lighting features is the large circular chandelier suspended over the main prayer area. It hangs low on long, delicate chains and holds dozens of small glass lamps. This type of low-hanging, circular chandelier has its roots in early Islamic (particularly Arab) architectural traditions. The Ottomans adopted the form and enhanced it, often incorporating Venetian glass for added brilliance. These chandeliers not only served a practical purpose but also contributed to the mosque’s intimate, contemplative atmosphere, encouraging focus and spiritual reflection.

Also the richly decorated mihrab and minbar, follow Ottoman artistic traditions. The mihrab is a decorative niche set into the wall of the mosque that indicates the direction of Mecca (qibla), which Muslims face during prayer. It is always positioned in the centre of the qibla wall and serves as a spiritual focal point within the prayer hall. In the Blue Mosque, the mihrab is made of finely carved white marble and framed by blue İznik tiles, making it easily visible from all areas of the space. Next to the mihrab stands the minbar, a raised pulpit from which the imam delivers the Friday sermon (khutbah) and other religious addresses. It typically has a staircase with a small platform at the top and is often elaborately decorated. In the Blue Mosque, the minbar is constructed from marble and features intricate detailing.

Although still an active place of worship, the Blue Mosque is open to visitors outside of prayer times – that is, during periods when large, organised prayers are not taking place. During visiting hours, the interior is divided into two sections: a smaller area for visitors, which covers about one-third of the space, and a larger section reserved for Muslims in prayer. The two areas are separated by a low wooden balustrade. The entire floor of the mosque is covered with carpet, so visitors must enter barefoot. There are plenty of shelves along the walls where you can leave your shoes. Women are expected to cover their heads and hair; a hood is usually sufficient, but scarves are also provided at the entrance if needed.

While inside, we were able to observe Muslim men praying individually in the main prayer area. There is a separate space for women, which is not accessible to non-Muslim visitors. Private prayer, unlike the communal Friday prayer or the five daily group prayers, can take place at any time of day. Each worshipper prays at their own pace, always facing the mihrab, the prayer niche indicating the direction of Mecca. Before entering the prayer area, worshippers perform a brief purification ritual called wudu, which involves washing the hands, face, and feet. In fact, just outside the mosque, along one of its exterior walls, we noticed rows of taps with small stone seats, where people can sit and carry out this ritual cleansing. Once on the carpeted floor, worshippers go through a sequence of movements and recitations – beginning in a standing position, then bowing, kneeling, and finally touching the forehead to the ground in a posture of submission.

At certain times of the day – starting around dawn, usually close to 6 a.m. – you can hear the call to prayer, or adhan, broadcast from the mosque’s minarets. Traditionally recited by a muezzin, it is now most often played through loudspeakers. The adhan is an auditory signal for one of the five daily prayers and can be heard throughout the city. Interestingly, while standing outside, we noticed that the sound of the call to prayer didn’t always come from the same direction. Sometimes it seemed to be coming from the Blue Mosque; at other times, it echoed from Hagia Sophia, which stands just across the square. The two mosques often broadcast the adhan slightly offset from each other, creating a kind of call-and-response effect. The overlapping sound carries across the plaza, producing a layered, almost musical atmosphere that defines this part of Istanbul.

Visiting the Blue Mosque was not only a chance to admire one of Istanbul’s most iconic buildings, but also an opportunity to better understand how architecture, religion, and history intersect in this city. It’s a place that continues to function as both a house of worship and a symbol of imperial legacy – where past and present quietly coexist under one vast, tiled dome.

The Blue Mosque. A Living Monument of Faith and Empire

A Hidden Treasure. Church of St Stephen in Nessebar

The Church of St Stephen in Nessebar, a town situated on Bulgaria’s Black Sea coast, also known as the New Metropolis, is a precious monument of medieval ecclesiastical architecture.

I ended up in Nessebar somewhat by chance, en route to Istanbul. A friend of mine runs a travel agency that specialises in unusual destinations. He had come up with the idea of a late autumn stay in Golden Sands, Bulgaria – where it was still warm enough for me to swim undisturbed in the hotel pool – with a two-day coach trip to Istanbul as part of the itinerary. I knew virtually nothing about Nessebar beforehand.

After about half an hour of wandering through a nice looking old town, we stepped into this small church – and, to put it plainly, my jaw dropped. Unlike many other churches I’ve seen in recent years, this one hadn’t been fully restored. Instead, what remains from the past has been carefully preserved as it is. Coming from a country where so much was destroyed in wars – where what we see today is often a reconstructed version of the original – I’ve come to truly value places that have retained their authentic character. There’s something deeply moving about standing in a space where the passage of time is visible, not hidden, but you still see the past.

Originally founded by the Thracians as Menebria, Nessebar was taken over by Greek settlers from Megara in the 6th century BC, who renamed it Mesembria. It later flourished as a major port under Roman rule and became an episcopal centre within the Byzantine Empire. During the Middle Ages, the city was incorporated into the Bulgarian state and emerged as a key strategic stronghold, frequently passing between Bulgarian and Byzantine control. Since antiquity, Nessebar’s prosperity has been rooted in maritime trade.

Then, for nearly five centuries – from 1453 onwards – the city remained under Ottoman rule. In the early years of this period, Nessebar attempted to preserve its identity through the strength and vitality of its Christian community. However, over time, the city lost its political and military importance, the port declined, and Nessebar gradually became a quiet fishing and farming settlement. Yet even as its prominence faded, the town acquired a distinctive architectural legacy. The 18th and 19th centuries saw the construction of characteristic stone-and-wood houses, with solid masonry bases and timber-framed upper storeys that overhang the narrow cobbled streets – a modest but enduring expression of the Bulgarian Revival style.

Deprived of major investment and largely bypassed by modern infrastructure, Nessebar changed little for decades, preserving much of its historical character just so. Nessebar was restored to Bulgarian control in 1885, following the unification of the Principality of Bulgaria with the autonomous province of Eastern Rumelia, of which it had been a part after the Russo-Turkish War. However, the absence of a direct railway connection and the town’s relative isolation slowed its development. It was not until the 1920s and 1930s that Nessebar’s exceptional historical and architectural value began to be widely recognised.

Archaeologists and historians began to document and study Nessebar’s churches, city walls and Byzantine-era monuments in greater depth, and the first conservation efforts were launched in 1934. After 1945, the town began to attract growing numbers of visitors, drawn by both its historical significance and its coastal setting. In 1956, Nessebar was officially declared an architectural and archaeological reserve of Bulgarian national importance. This recognition culminated in 1983, when the Old Town was inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. Adding to its appeal is the fact that several of the country’s largest seaside resorts — including Golden Sands — are located nearby, making Nessebar a popular cultural destination for holidaymakers visiting the region for sun and leisure.

Since antiquity, Nessebar has been renowned for its remarkable concentration of historic churches and a strong Christian presence. Christianity reached the city in the early centuries AD. As a prominent trading port on the Black Sea, Nessebar maintained close contact with both the Greek and Roman worlds, which facilitated the spread of new religious ideas. During the Roman Empire the first Christian communities began to form. Following the Edict of Milan in 313, which legalised Christianity across the empire, the Church developed rapidly. By the 4th or 5th century, Nessebar had already become the seat of a bishopric. It was around this time that the first significant churches were constructed, and Christianity gradually became the dominant faith in the city. The participation of Nessebar’s bishops in major councils of the Eastern Church further affirmed its role as an established Christian centre. Among the most significant and best-preserved churches in Nessebar is the Church of Saint Sophia (known as the Old Metropolis), dating back to the 5th–6th century (compare photos below).

During its period of greatest prosperity – especially under the Byzantine Empire and the Second Bulgarian Kingdom (10th to 14th century) – the Christian community played a central role in urban life. The city not only remained a bishopric but was later elevated to the status of a metropolitan seat. Its ecclesiastical leaders maintained relations with key religious centres of the Byzantine world, and their presence fostered spiritual growth and reinforced the city’s status in the region. Perhaps the most visible sign of this religious vitality was the sheer number of churches. In the Middle Ages, Nessebar could boast several dozen, some of which survive today. Built in the Byzantine and Bulgarian styles, many of these churches were commissioned by wealthy patrons – merchants, nobles, and dignitaries. The elaborate decorations – frescoes, mosaics, and iconostases – reflected the city’s high artistic standards and its role in the development of sacred art. Attached to many churches were schools where literacy and the copying of liturgical texts were taught. Monks and clergy were more than spiritual leaders – they also served as educators, caretakers of the poor, organisers of communal life, and guardians of tradition.

This deeply rooted Christian life suffered a marked decline after 1453, when Nessebar fell under Ottoman rule. The Ottomans did not destroy the churches nor ban Orthodox worship, but the Christian population, as a subordinated group, faced legal restrictions and special taxation. Many churches fell into disrepair or ceased functioning altogether, as the Christian community dwindled and its financial means diminished. Nonetheless, religious life did not disappear entirely. In some churches – such as St Stephen’s – frescoes from the 16th and 18th centuries survive, bearing witness to the continued use of these spaces even in challenging political conditions. Following Bulgaria’s liberation from Ottoman rule and Nessebar’s formal return to Bulgarian control in 1885, the Christian community began to revive, albeit slowly. Churches were gradually reclaimed – some restored, others converted into museums to preserve their legacy.

Today, although many of Nessebar’s churches have museum status, several, including the Church of St Stephen, are still occasionally used for religious services, offering a living link to the city’s enduring spiritual heritage. Of course, there are also churches in Nessebar that continue to serve fully as active places of worship, even though they remain open to visitors. I’ll show one of these in a post.

The Church of St Stephen in Nessebar is quite small, and from the outside – especially to someone not versed in ecclesiastical architecture – it wouldn’t necessarily be recognised as a church at all. It’s enclosed by a low stone wall, and scattered around it are fragments of an earlier structure, likely parts of the original building that haven’t survived intact. When you step inside, the space is lit by old chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, which provide the main source of light. You can clearly see that the most of the ceiling is made of new wood. Some additional sources of light are attached to it. In areas where their glow doesn’t quite reach, a freestanding spotlight is used to offer additional illumination. Heaters or air conditioning units help maintain a stable indoor temperature. According to our guide, this is essential for preserving the frescoes and interior structure. The system is powered by wiring run externally, so no alterations have been made to the church’s original construction.

The building was constructed between the 11th and 13th centuries as a three-nave basilica, with the central nave rising higher than the side aisles, measuring approximately 12 by 9.5 metres. In the 16th century, it was extended westwards, and in the 18th century, a wooden entrance vestibule was added. Built of stone and brick, the church has a modest yet carefully composed structure. Embedded in the walls are spolia – architectural elements reused from earlier buildings – including stone cornices, column capitals, and relief fragments, most likely originating from ancient Roman or early Byzantine temples.

One of the most distinctive features of medieval architecture in Nessebar, including the Church of St Stephen, is the use of the opus mixtum technique, a building method that became common in the Byzantine world from late Antiquity through the Middle Ages, particularly between the 10th and 14th centuries. This technique involves alternating layers of stone and brick, creating a visually striking texture on the façades. It served not only as a decorative feature – it also had a stabilising function, helping to reinforce the structure on the marshy ground of the island. In Nessebar, bricks of varying colour and shape were not only functional but also served a decorative purpose, forming intricate patterns and ornamental designs on exterior walls. This method reflects the influence of the Tarnovo School of Architecture, which flourished in the Second Bulgarian Empire, centred around the medieval capital Veliko Tarnovo (historically known simply as Tarnovo). This style is renowned for its richly detailed façades, often incorporating glazed ceramic elements in tones of green, brown, yellow and orange, adding both colour and symbolic meaning to sacred buildings.

Inside, the structure of the building becomes immediately clear: a three-nave basilica layout, with the central nave slightly higher and more prominent than the side aisles – a typical feature of Byzantine ecclesiastical architecture. Just beyond the entrance, one notices a wooden pulpit dating from the 18th century, modest in size but rich in character, showing visible signs of age. It stands on the left side of the nave with its carved details and iconographic panels reflecting the craftsmanship of the period. On the right side there is the bishop’s throne, dating also from the 18th century, which – along with the pulpit – forms part of the preserved liturgical furniture .The three naves gradually lead towards a more enclosed space, culminating in a wall that separates the main area of the church from what lies beyond – a characteristic feature of Orthodox churches, where the iconostasis forms both a visual and symbolic boundary between the congregation and the sanctuary hidden behind it, where the altar is located. In the Church of St Stephen, the iconostasis is a finely carved, three-tiered wooden screen, adorned with icons and decorative motifs – one of the most artistically significant elements of the interior.

The interior of the Church of St Stephen in Nessebar contains some of the most valuable late medieval frescoes in Bulgaria. In 1599, during the time of Metropolitan Christophor of Nessebar, three painters created a total of 258 wall compositions, depicting over 1,000 individual figures. The frescoes illustrate scenes from the life of the Virgin Mary, the miracles of Christ, and the Last Judgement. A later depiction of the Last Judgement, located in the narthex and painted in the 18th century, was executed in a more theatrical style, featuring dynamic figures and elaborate scenography. In addition to the main cycles, the programme includes less commonly represented themes, such as the Cycle of Joachim and Anna (Mary’s parents) and miracles performed by lesser-known saints, adding iconographic richness to the interior. Stylistic analysis indicates that the work was divided among three artists. Two of them painted the eastern part of the naos, displaying a higher level of precision and decorative detail, while the third, responsible for the western section, adopted a simpler and more narrative approach to composition. The frescoes were executed using the al fresco technique, with pigments applied directly onto fresh lime plaster. The colours, derived mainly from natural mineral sources, have retained much of their original vibrancy over the centuries.

What remains in memory is the stillness, the dim light, and the walls that seem to speak in colour. A church that quietly holds centuries – and lets you glimpse them.

A Hidden Treasure. Church of St Stephen in Nessebar