Dominating the Sixth Hill of Istanbul’s historic peninsula, the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque (Edirnekapı) stands like a crown upon the city’s ancient walls. This elegant 16th-century mosque was commissioned by Mihrimah Sultan – the beloved daughter of Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent – and designed by the empire’s chief architect, Mimar Sinan. Perched just inside the Theodosian Walls at the “Edirne Gate,” its soaring lead-covered dome (37 m high, 20 m span) and dozens of windows make it one of Sinan’s brightest designs. Even from afar one senses the mosque’s unique character: a vast hemispherical dome set upon a cubic prayer hall, pierced by a gridded pattern of arched and circular windows that flood the interior with sunlight. In approaching via the marble colonnaded forecourt (spanning seven small domes), a visitor senses both the imperial scale of an Ottoman Friday mosque and a delicacy of detail that transcends mere monumentality.

The Mihrimah Sultan Mosque is more than a building; it is a legacy of empire, family and devotion. The story of its patron, Mihrimah Sultan, and of Sinan’s personal connection to her, suffuses the atmosphere. Mihrimah herself (1522–1578) was no ordinary princess. Born to Süleyman and his powerful wife Hürrem, she grew up at the height of Ottoman power and came to be regarded as “the most powerful imperial princess in Ottoman history”. Her name (in Persian, Mihrî-Mâh) literally means “Sun and Moon” – a poetic title that Ottoman tradition later linked to the twin great mosques built in her honor. (She remains remembered in Europe as “Cameria” or “the Great Sultana,” and in Istanbul as Büyük Sultan.) In her widowhood she sponsored architectural works and public services; most famously, she endowed two grand mosque complexes to bear her name.

The first of these is the Üsküdar mosque on the Bosphorus (built 1543–1548) and the second is our subject at Edirnekapı (built 1562–1565). Ottoman chroniclers and later storytellers wove romantic legends around these monuments. According to one enduring tale, Sinan fell hopelessly in love with the princess, even offering to marry her, only to have his suit declined by the Sultan. Folklore goes so far as to say that this unrequited love is encoded in the two mosques’ designs: the Üsküdar mosque (the “moon” mosque) is said to have fewer windows while the Edirnekapı mosque (the “sun” mosque) is almost entirely glazed, so that on the spring equinox the setting sun and rising moon align with them. Whether these symbolic stories are true or not, they underscore the cultural legend attached to Mihrimah’s name. This guide will distinguish fact from myth: it will recount who Mihrimah really was and who Sinan really was, and then examine in meticulous detail the architecture, history and context of her mosque in Edirnekapı.

The Princess and the Architect: The Lives of Mihrimah Sultan and Mimar Sinan

Who Was Mihrimah Sultan? The Beloved Daughter of Suleiman the Magnificent

Mihrimah Sultan (1522–1578) was an Ottoman princess of extraordinary rank. She was the only daughter of Sultan Süleyman I and his wife Hürrem Sultan (Roxelana). In a dynasty still dominated by male heirs, Mihrimah emerged as a central figure in the imperial family. Contemporary chronicler Mustafa Selaniki wrote that she was “the greatest and most respected” of the Ottoman princesses – indeed, “the most powerful imperial princess in Ottoman history”. From childhood she was given a thorough education and was renowned for her intelligence, piety and eloquence. At age seventeen she married Rüstem Pasha, a rising statesman of devşirme origin who became Grand Vizier. Though her husband later became unpopular, Mihrimah retained her father’s favor and continued to wield influence behind the scenes as the empire reached its apogee under Süleyman’s rule.

Her official duties and charitable works reflected her status. She managed large endowments (vakıf), building schools, hospitals and religious buildings. Most famously, she founded two great mosque complexes (külliyes) in Istanbul that were designed by the imperial architect Sinan. These acts of patronage, along with her close ties to the throne, made her a key player in what historians call the Sultanate of Women – the period when royal women exercised substantial power. When she died in 1578, Mihrimah Sultan was honored by burial beside her father in his mausoleum at the Süleymaniye Mosque complex, a privilege granted to no other daughter of a sultan.

(The name “Mihrimah” is itself revealing: in Persian it means “Sun and Moon,” a poetic image that gave rise to later legends. The historian Gülru Necipoğlu notes that Westerners often called her “Cameria” (from the Arabic for “moon”), while in Istanbul she was also called Büyük Sultan, the “Great Sultana.” Such epithets reflect both her rank and the almost mystical aura that her memory acquired.)

Mimar Sinan: The Genius Behind the Golden Age of Ottoman Architecture

Just as Mihrimah was central to the royal household, Mimar Sinan (c.1490–1588) was the towering genius of 16th-century Ottoman building. Born into a Christian family in Anatolia and recruited by devşirme, Sinan rose through the ranks of the Janissaries before becoming the Başmiimar (chief architect) under Suleiman and continuing under his successors. During his lifetime he designed some of the empire’s most enduring monuments, including the Süleymaniye Mosque in Istanbul and the Selimiye Mosque in Edirne. By the time of the Edirnekapı Mihrimah Mosque (mid-1560s), Sinan was in the middle of his career, fully confident in pushing structural and aesthetic boundaries.

Sinan’s approach combined engineering innovation with refined aesthetics. He perfected the use of massive piers, half-domes and cascading domes to create vast, yet harmonious interior spaces. In later years he reflected on his works in autobiographical accounts, but for our purposes it is enough to say that by the 1560s his style had matured. Architecturally, the Edirnekapı project allowed Sinan to explore lightness and clarity: it used a striking new pier-and-window system to flood the interior with illumination (details below). Whether Sinan felt any personal affection for Mihrimah – or whether he simply respected her as a patron – the design clearly honors her name and place in the empire. (The apocryphal tale of Sinan as a lovestruck artist, while colorful, is not substantiated by contemporary evidence and remains in the realm of legend.) What matters here is that Sinan invested his skill in creating an edifice worthy of the “great sultana,” and the result is a mosque unlike any other in Istanbul.

Was Mimar Sinan in Love with Mihrimah Sultan? Deconstructing the Enduring Legend

An oft-repeated story holds that Sinan fell deeply in love with Mihrimah upon first meeting her during a military campaign, even commissioning the bridge on the Prut River in her honor and formally requesting her hand in marriage. It is said that when Mihrimah’s father rejected him, Sinan channeled his affection into architecture. According to the most romantic version of this tale, he later designed Mihrimah’s two mosques as an allegory: the Üsküdar mosque, built first (1543–1548), symbolizes the moon (its interior more dimly lit), while the Edirnekapı mosque, built later (1562–1565) has so many windows that it symbolizes the sun. On Mihrimah’s birthday at the spring equinox, the story goes, the setting sun lines up with Edirnekapı and the rising moon with Üsküdar, celebrating “sun and moon” in the sky.

Scholars approach these stories skeptically. The foundation inscriptions and records give no hint of a love affair, and it was not unusual in Ottoman architecture to use celestial metaphors. As historian Gülru Necipoğlu points out, Sinan’s own descriptions make no reference to personal romance, and the “sun and moon” symbolism may simply have been a poetic later interpretation. In short, these legends are better appreciated as modern folklore. For our purposes, we note them here not as historical fact but as part of the cultural halo around the mosques. We proceed with the evidence of stones and documents: what can be seen and measured in the mosque, and what the archives tell us about dates, patrons and purpose.

A Tale of Two Mosques: The Symbolic Connection Between Edirnekapı and Üsküdar

The Mihrimah Sultan Mosque in Üsküdar: The First Tribute

Before examining the Edirnekapı mosque in detail, it is helpful to understand its older namesake on the Asian shore. The Üsküdar Mihrimah Sultan Mosque (often called the İskele or Dock Mosque) was completed around 1548. It too was designed by Sinan and built at Mihrimah’s behest. Its key features illustrate Sinan’s evolving style. It has a prayer hall covered by a central dome flanked on three sides by three half-domes – the first time Sinan used such a triple half-dome configuration. The Üsküdar mosque has two slim minarets (one at the northwest corner, one at the southwest). Its interior was once richly decorated with painted embellishments and stained-glass windows, and the main dome contains sixteen arched windows. In front lies a five-bay portico of small domes, supported by six columns. The Üsküdar complex originally included a medrese, a school, a clinic and a soup-kitchen, reflecting Mihrimah’s charitable mission. Over time, this first Mihrimah mosque became one of Üsküdar’s best-known monuments, visible to generations of visitors arriving by ferry to the Bosphorus.

The Mihrimah Sultan Mosque in Fatih (Edirnekapı): The Grand Second Act

The Edirnekapı mosque, the second imperial mosque bearing Mihrimah’s name, was conceived about fifteen years later and built between 1562 and 1565. Its setting and scale make it quite different from Üsküdar’s. Located on the fifth hill of the old city, it was placed inside the ancient city gate of Edirnekapı, looking out over the city. It is significantly larger: its dome soars 35–37 m high and spans 20 m, making it one of the widest domes of Sinan’s time. Unlike the Üsküdar mosque’s asymmetrical half-domes, the Edirnekapı mosque’s interior is organized under a single vast dome. The difference is striking: whereas the Üsküdar mosque spills its mass into half-domes and side bays, the Edirnekapı mosque packs all of its prayer space under one dome through the use of four massive piers at the corners. These piers – often called Sinan’s “elephant feet” – carry the dome’s weight so efficiently that the walls between them could be pierced with an unprecedented number of windows.

In fact, the Edirnekapı mosque has only one minaret on the northwest side, instead of two – perhaps a subtle homage to the notion of a “single sun.” Its entrance portico is also larger: seven domed bays supported by marble columns (vs. Üsküdar’s five-bay portico). A lasting inscription records that the Edirnekapı complex included, besides the mosque, a medrese (theology school), a double hamam (bathhouse) and an arasta (row of shops), reflecting the traditional külliye pattern.

The Celestial Alignment: The Sun and Moon Legend Explained

The “sun and moon” myth is a piece of romantic tapestry woven around these facts. Proponents point out that Mihrimah’s name literally means “Sun and Moon,” and that (a) the Üsküdar mosque indeed has more shade and painted decoration, while Edirnekapı’s interior is overwhelmingly light; (b) on the vernal equinox (Mihrimah’s reputed birthday), an observer standing on Galata Tower can see the sun set behind Edirnekapı and the moon rise near Üsküdar. This has fueled the idea that Sinan intentionally made Üsküdar the “moon mosque” and Edirnekapı the “sun mosque.” However, there is no contemporaneous evidence that the architect planned it this way. Mihrimah’s own endowment deeds (vakfiye) for Edirnekapı mention only practical details (lands, revenues) and the usual prayers for the Sultan’s family; they make no allusion to symbolic astronomy. In light of that, historians regard the celestial story as a colorful legend. It survives because it adds romance and structure to the two monuments, but it should not overshadow the very real architectural differences.

A Comparative Look: Key Differences in Architecture and Design

In sum, comparing the two Mihrimah mosques highlights how Sinan adapted to context and patronage. The Üsküdar mosque (1548) is a complex composition of domes – three half-domes across one axis – and painted surfaces, which was typical for an early classical mosque of that era. It is smaller in scale and adorned with more intricate ornament. By contrast, the Edirnekapı mosque (1565) is geometrically simpler: one massive dome, one minaret, and an interior defined by light and space rather than opulent decoration. The Edirnekapı interior is flooded with light: the dome alone has 24 windows, and each of the four triangular tympana below it is pierced by dozens of windows. In total, nearly 200 windows admit sunlight into the prayer hall – a record among Sinan’s works. Thus the Edirnekapı mosque’s hallmark is luminosity and vertical grandeur, whereas the Üsküdar mosque’s hallmark is its bold interplay of domes and ornament. Both are masterpieces, but one is the “sun” to the other’s “moon.”

Architectural Marvel: A Deep Dive into the Design and Engineering of the Fatih Mosque

Stepping inside, one immediately senses why this mosque is sometimes described as “feminine” or delicate in atmosphere. Daylight pours in through every wall. From floor to drum there are roughly three tiers of windows: the main dome ring alone has 24 clerestory windows around its base, and each of the four half-domed sections (tympana) below it features three rows of windows – seven large arches on the bottom row, five arches and two round windows in the middle, and three arches plus two round windows on top. The result is extraordinary: the interior is pierced by so much glass that it feels almost open to the sky, rather than enclosed by walls. The French orientalist Albert Gabriel famously called it “the mosque of lights.” Structurally, this feat was made possible by Sinan’s ingenious use of the four massive piers at the dome’s corners (sometimes termed “elephant feet”). These piers rise from floor to drum, allowing the walls between them to be made remarkably thin and window-filled. In effect, the dome’s weight is borne not by solid walls, but by these four clustered piers connected by arches, freeing up the surface of the walls for glazing.

The dome itself is a marvel: 20 m across and rising some 37 m above floor level. It sits atop a high drum also punctuated with windows, and it springs from the square prayer hall via pendentives. Beneath it the space is almost square, defined by the four piers. Each pier is anchored by thick stone columns in the corners, which were originally finished in marble – a luxury fit for an imperial mosque. Between the piers the side-aisles are roofed by three smaller domes each (six in total, east and west). Those side-domes are lower (about half the height of the central space) and also have windows in three tiers, echoing the main dome’s pattern. In short, the effect is one of stratified volumes and multiple light sources, but all centered on the grand central dome.

The Elegant Interior: A Study in Understated Beauty. Against this luminous framework the interior’s decorative art is surprisingly restrained. The mosque was never elaborately tiled like the Blue Mosque; instead, its ornament is concentrated in strategic spots. The marble mihrab (prayer niche), placed on the south (qibla) wall, is delicately carved with stalactite (muqarnas) work, signed in verse by its stonecutter. To its right stands the marble minbar (pulpit) – all original from Sinan’s day – with crisp geometric carvings. Above, the arches and pendentives are lined with Quranic inscriptions in calligraphy, but these are painted in muted arabesque bands rather than showy colors (the whole interior was whitewashed a century ago). Any traces of 16th-century wall tiles have not survived, so the eye instead rests on stone surfaces and the play of light. Even the chandeliers are kept modest. In sum, one feels an emphasis on proportion and light over color or pattern.

Sinan’s critics sometimes say that this restraint was intentional: since the patron was a woman, the design was given a “feminine” gentle touch. One visitor noted the stained-glass tint of the windows and the relatively small scale of decorations, contrasting it with bolder imperial mosques. Sinan himself never wrote that he adopted any “feminine” style – modern historians would caution that architecture does not have gender in any literal sense – but it is true that the Edirnekapı mosque feels airy and serene in a way unlike the dark, jewel-toned interiors of the Süleymaniye or Sultanahmet mosques.

The Solitary Minaret. A final exterior note: this is one of the few imperial Friday mosques in Istanbul with only one minaret (most grand mosques have two or even four). The single minaret rises near the northwest corner on the courtyard side. Its elegant, pencil-slim form – stone shaft with a single balcony carved with stalactite corbels – corresponds to the traditional Ottoman imperial style but in a uncharacteristic singularity. It gives the silhouette a certain asymmetry, but also reinforces a sense of singular dedication: one mosque, one sultan’s daughter.

The Külliye: Understanding the Full Mosque Complex

Like most major Ottoman mosques, the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque was originally the centerpiece of a külliye, or religious-social complex. The surviving elements give us a glimpse of everyday life in a 16th-century waqf (endowment) community.

• The Madrasa (Islamic School): Running alongside the mosque is an attached theological school. According to Archnet’s plan, the madrasa wraps around a cloistered courtyard (about 57×21.5 m) with student cells. It is entered through arched passages directly from the mosque platform. This arrangement suggests that lectures may have been given in the shadow of the mosque’s walls, a sign of Mihrimah’s patronage of learning. (Today, parts of the madrasa have been repurposed, but one can still trace the layout of the domed corridors and cells.)
• The Hammam (Public Bath): Behind and below the mosque to the southeast was a double hammam (bathhouse). Archnet notes that one of the baths is still in use as a modern hamam. In Ottoman times, the revenues from the hamam and its associated shops would have helped finance the mosque’s upkeep. The tiled domes of the former bath complex are partly intact across the lane; a visitor can spot the round stone lids (ventilation) of the heating room area.
• The Mausoleum (Tomb): Also south of the mosque is a small türbe (tomb) building. This is not Mihrimah’s own resting place – she lies with Suleiman – but was intended for close family. Today it is largely a ruin and used as a caretaker’s shelter, but the inscription confirms that originally Mihrimah’s son-in-law (Grand Vizier Semiz Ali Pasha) and her daughter Ayşe Hümaşah were interred here. (In fact, Archnet describes it as an L-shaped funerary chamber to the south.) The crypt beneath still holds the graves of those two, as well as Mihrimah’s grandsons Mehmed Bey and Osman Bey and Şehid Mustafa Pasha, among others. This makes the site a modest family cemetery on the slopes of the hill – a poignant counterpoint to Suleiman’s imperial mausoleum to the north.
• The Arasta (Shops): Finally, along the descending side of the complex, once ran a row of ten or so shops (arasta). These were typical for a külliye: the rents furnished income for the mosque and its charitable functions. Today only traces of their vaulted facades remain under the mosque terrace.

In sum, the Edirnekapı Mihrimah Sultan Külliyesi functioned as a self-contained neighborhood center: a mosque for worship, a school for education, a bath for hygiene, shops for commerce, and charitable kitchens (soup kitchen in Uskudar; likely soup kitchen in Edirnekapı as well, though not explicitly listed). It exemplified the Ottoman vision of social architecture, where faith and daily life were integrated.

A Journey Through Time: The History of the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque

Commission and Construction (1562–1565)

The contracts and chronicles tell us that Mihrimah Sultan endowed the Edirnekapı complex around 1562, the year after her husband Rustem Pasha died. Surviving vakfiye (endowment deeds) confirm dates and endowment sources. There was no grand inscription laid on the building itself (Süleymaniye has a huge inscription, but here we rely on archives). Historians place the start of work at 1562–63, likely finishing by 1565. That means construction occurred in the last years of Süleyman’s reign (he died 1566), with Sinan at the peak of his career.

The mosque’s opening would have been a pious event attended by the elite. We know from other waqf sources that food and alms were distributed at such inaugurations, and that Mihrimah herself would have been present. Once completed, the külliye’s charitable functions (medrese lectures, bath attendance, and sale of waqf bread) began under the supervision of appointed administrators.

The Mosque in the Ottoman Era

After its inauguration, the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque functioned as a Friday mosque (cami) for the local populace. It appears in 16th–18th century court records as an active endowment. Travelers in the 17th century noted its whitened walls and pleasantly luminous prayer hall. Ottoman archival registers show the madrasa had a teacher and 20 students, and the hamam was a steady revenue source. Later European visitors admired its calm light interior (Pierre Loti mentions it), even as the surrounding Edirnekapı neighborhood became a somewhat neglected area by the 19th century. The mosque also benefited from being outside the main tourist zones: it survived the conversion-without-harm that befell many other imperial mosques in the 20th century.

The Scars of Time: Earthquakes and Damage

However, Istanbul’s fate as an earthquake city did not spare Mihrimah’s mosque. The structure suffered repeated quakes through the centuries. According to both Ottoman and European records, the dome collapsed in the strong 1766 quake, and the single minaret fell in the 1894 Marmara earthquake. Each time, repairs were undertaken – usually funded by the state or local waqf trustees. After the 1894 shock, the mosque remained partially closed for a period. By 1912, a photograph shows extensive damage (see Gurlitt).

Nevertheless, the basic structure remained intact. Minor restorations in 1719 and 1766 did patch the minaret base and porch vaults. A major overhaul was conducted in 1956–57, under the early Turkish Republic, when the dome was rebuilt and the minaret partially re-erected. Finally, in 2007–2010 a thorough conservation project renewed the courtyard, fountain and dome. Today’s visitor sees a mostly restored monument, but one with visible layers: some of the porch columns and fountain are original, while the dome and most interior surfaces have been renewed with new marble and plaster. This blend of ancient and modern conservation is typical of Istanbul’s living monuments.

Your Ultimate Visitor’s Guide to the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque, Fatih

Planning Your Visit: Essential Information

• Opening Hours: The mosque welcomes visitors daily from 09:00 to 18:00, except during the five prayer times when non-worshipers must briefly vacate. These times vary by season, but generally one can expect closures around midday and early evening prayers. The best plan is to check a local prayer timetable or simply observe posted notices at the door.
• Entrance Fee: Admission to the mosque is free of charge. There is no official ticket, but modest donations are welcome and help with maintenance. (In Istanbul it is customary to leave a small contribution in the box as thanks.) Despite being free, the site is maintained in good order thanks to this system.
• Dress Code: Modest attire is required. Men should avoid shorts and sleeveless shirts. Women must cover their hair with a headscarf and wear long sleeves and long skirts or pants. If you arrive without a head covering, scarves and wraps are often provided at the entrance. As with all mosques, shoes must be removed and left on racks at the door (socked feet are fine inside). These practices are standard etiquette and should be observed out of respect, especially since the mosque is still used for worship.

How to Get to the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque in Fatih

The Edirnekapı mosque lies at the far northwest edge of Istanbul’s historic peninsula. Though it is off the beaten tourist path, it is easily reached:

• By Bus: The simplest way is via the Istanbul bus network. Buses from central hubs (Taksim Square, Eminönü, etc.) that pass through the Edirnekapı roundabout will drop you a few minutes’ walk from the mosque. For example, take the 28-30 from Eminönü or the 85C from Taksim, and alight at Edirnekapı. From the Edirnekapı stop, follow the hill – the mosque is visible above you, on the city-wall side of the road. (Istanbul’s transit apps can help with current routes and schedules.)
• By Metro or Marmaray: The nearest metro stop is Vezneciler (M2 line) combined with a short bus ride. Alternatively, take the Marmaray suburban train to Sirkeci and then a bus 28 or 87 to Edirnekapı. Walking from the train station is longer and uphill.
• By Taxi or Ride-Share: A taxi from Sultanahmet or Taksim should take about 10–15 minutes in normal traffic. Just say “Edirnekapı Camii” – most drivers know it. Parking is very limited, so a cab drop-off is preferred.
• On Foot: If you enjoy walking, the hillside path from Sultanahmet past the Land Walls is scenic. Walk northwest along the wall (passing the Tekfur Sarayı/Palace and the Fethiye Camii) for about 20–25 minutes; the mosque will then be on your left.

Mosque Etiquette: What to Wear and How to Behave

While the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque is welcoming to tourists, it is first and foremost a place of worship. When you enter:

• Dress and conduct quietly. Respect the holiness of the site by keeping voices low, refraining from eating or loud phone calls, and not disturbing worshippers.
• Remove shoes. There are racks at the entrance. (If you keep socks on, use the designated plastic footwraps to avoid soiling the carpets.)
• Head covering. Women should cover their hair with a scarf or shawl. If you have none, friendly attendants often offer one. (Men do not cover their heads in Turkish mosques.)
• Photography. Photos of the exterior and courtyard are fine; inside the prayer hall, photos without flash are usually allowed, but never during a congregation. Always be mindful of praying individuals.
• Timing. Non-Muslims may not enter during the 5 daily prayer sessions – these typically last about 30 minutes each. Outside those times, feel free to explore.

A Self-Guided Walking Tour of the Mosque and its Complex

• The Courtyard and Ablution Fountain: Begin in the courtyard (avlu). In the center stands a large sadirvan (ablution fountain) where worshippers traditionally wash before praying. Admire the courtyard’s arcades of slender marble and granite columns. Note the high porch of seven domes and the marble-and-granite columns supporting them. These were part of the original double portico (now only the inner one remains).
• Entry Portal: The main entrance to the mosque proper is through a grand portal of carved marble. Above the doorway look for remnants of mother-of-pearl inlay and an inscription panel – these are original. The wooden doors also bear fine geometric carvings. Step inside into the prayer hall.
• The Prayer Hall: Once inside, look upward at the dome: 37 meters overhead. Notice how countless windows ring the drum and pierce the pendentives. From inside, the glass fills the space with ever-changing light. Look for patches of pink and blue glass in the north and south tympana windows – these are among the few colored panes remaining. The floor has carpets arranged for prayer (there is usually a central aisle left open for people to walk through).On the south wall is the mihrab (look for the arrow pointing to Mecca) – a simple white marble niche with muqarnas (stalactite) carving. To its right is the minbar, the stepped pulpit, also carved from white marble with spiral and foliated patterns. Both of these survive from Sinan’s original work. Wander a bit: notice the plain lines of the walls and the painted Arabic calligraphy bands high on the walls.
• The Külliye Buildings: If time permits, exit to the south side and explore. You can see the exterior of the madrasa on one flank – its domed halls now house offices – and the domes of the bathhouse. The tomb (türbe) stands behind a fence; though not open, from outside you can glimpse its interior where the ornate tombs of her relatives lie.

In all, allow 30–45 minutes for a quiet visit. With its tranquil light and serene geometry, Mihrimah’s mosque rewards slow appreciation.

Photography Guide: Capturing the Beauty of the Mosque

Because light is this mosque’s hallmark, the best photos are taken when the building is sunlit from outside or when the interior is brightest. If shooting the exterior from the street, midday to late afternoon light shows the dome and walls clearly against the sky. Inside, mid-morning light on a sunny day creates intricate shadows of the arches; a tripod is helpful for low-light shots on cloudy days. Refrain from using flash on prayer time or when people are present. Focus on details: the grillework of the windows, the carved door frames, and the play of light and shadow on the polished columns. The courtyard ablution fountain also makes a picturesque subject with the mosque framed behind it.

Beyond the Mosque: Exploring the Historic Edirnekapı Neighborhood

A visit to Mihrimah Sultan Mosque can be enriched by exploring its surroundings, which are rich in Byzantine and Ottoman remnants:

• Theodosian Walls (City Walls): Immediately to the west of the mosque lie the great fifth-century walls of Constantinople. A stretch of ramparts and towers runs up the hill to Edirnekapı gate. You are literally on the old city boundary. Climb a portion of the wall nearby for a sweeping view of the mosque complex and the Golden Horn beyond.
• Chora Church (Kariye Camii): A ten-minute walk (south) brings you to one of Istanbul’s treasures: the Chora Church, renowned for its exquisite Byzantine mosaics and frescoes. Do not miss this; it is one of the finest surviving Late Antique churches. (It has its own modest entry fee.)
• Palace of the Porphyrogenitus (Tekfur Sarayı): Just downslope from the Chora is this ruined Byzantine palace. Its gigantic brick piers and carved capitals give insight into medieval Constantinople. Very few visitors make it here, so you may have it nearly to yourself.
• Fethiye Mosque (former Pammakaristos Monastery): Slightly farther is Fethiye Mosque, another converted Byzantine church with nice mosaics and tilework.
• Local Eats: The Edirnekapı quarter is a working-class Fatih neighborhood. Near the walls you’ll find small eateries and kebab shops popular with locals – for instance, Öz Kilis Kebap and İrem Döner (ask a local or use Google Maps). These make good stops for lunch or tea. Note that this area is not touristy, so price tags are low but menus may be Turkish-only.

In short, you could easily spend a half-day here: morning at Mihrimah Mosque, then wander the walls to Chora, pause for lunch, and return in the afternoon. Very few visitors do, which makes the experience special.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

• What is the story of the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque? In short, it was commissioned in the 1560s by Princess Mihrimah, daughter of Suleiman the Magnificent, and built by architect Sinan. Ottoman archives date its construction roughly 1562–1565. It was one of two major mosques she endowed in Istanbul. The mosque embodies innovations of light and structure and has become associated with a romantic legend of Sinan’s unrequited love for Mihrimah. Over time it suffered earthquake damage (notably in 1894) but was restored in the 20th century.
• Is Mihrimah Sultan Mosque worth visiting? Absolutely. Though lesser-known, this mosque offers a rare sense of serenity and light. Its architecture is distinctive among Istanbul’s mosques, with a very bright, open interior. History lovers will appreciate its connection to Mihrimah Sultan and Mimar Sinan; photographers and aesthetes will treasure its gentle stained-glass hues and calm space. It also gives a vantage onto the old city walls. In other words, it is worth the short trip off the beaten path.
• Who is buried in the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque complex? Contrary to some confusion, Mihrimah Sultan herself is not buried here. After her death in 1578 she was interred in her father Süleyman’s tomb at the Süleymaniye Mosque. The small türbe beside the Edirnekapı mosque contains graves of her daughter Ayşe Hümaşah Sultan, her son-in-law (Grand Vizier Semiz Ali Pasha), and their children. The tomb is largely ruined today, but you can see the family burial chamber when visiting.
• What makes the architecture of this mosque unique? Its spectacular use of windows and light. Nearly the entire height of the prayer hall walls is pierced with open arches and stained-glass windows. This makes it perhaps the brightest of Sinan’s mosques – the French guide Jean Sauvaget praised it as flooding with light. Structurally, Sinan’s deployment of four projecting piers (“elephant feet”) allowed him to make walls much thinner and wall more window-filled. The result is an almost weightless quality to the dome overhead. The delicate marble mihrab and minbar also stand out for their fine carving.
• Can non-Muslims enter the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque? Yes. Like almost all historical mosques in Istanbul, it is open to non-Muslims outside of prayer times. There is no entrance fee. Visitors should follow mosque etiquette (modest dress, no worship disruption, etc.). Please note it closes briefly for each of the five daily prayers, during which visitors must leave the main hall.
• How much time should I allocate for a visit? A calm visit takes about 30–45 minutes. Spend 5–10 minutes in the courtyard and ablution area, then 15–20 minutes inside observing the details. If you wish to fully explore the complex, add extra time for the madrasa and bath exteriors. If combining with nearby sights (Chora Church, Palace, Walls), a half-day trip is reasonable.
• Is the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque included in standard Istanbul tours? Generally no – most group tours focus on Sultanahmet’s main mosques. This mosque’s location in Edirnekapı means it is usually not on the tourist bus route. It’s typically visited by independent travelers, history buffs, or those following the Mihrimah legend. Private guides can arrange a visit, and it can be combined with a tour of the Chora Museum and city walls for a specialized historical itinerary.
• What is the best way to combine a visit with other sites? Plan the Mihrimah Mosque as part of a “Fatih West” half-day. For example, start at Edirnekapı and Mihrimah in the morning, then walk south to the Chora Museum (Kariye), then to the Tekfur Palace, and return via Balat. Alternatively, one could pair it with visits to the Kara Ahmed Pasha Hammam nearby, or include it on the way to the Yedikule Fortress or Golden Horn ferries. Public buses make it easy to link with the Old City or modern Taksim.

Conclusion: The Enduring Legacy of the “Sun and Moon” Mosque

More than 450 years since its completion, the Edirnekapı Mihrimah Sultan Mosque remains a testament to a singular moment in Ottoman art. Architecturally, it stands as Sinan’s experiment in filling a sacred interior with light – one of few mosques where the walls themselves glow. Culturally, it embodies the story of a Sultan’s daughter whose name linked the celestial bodies, and the imaginative reverence that Ottomans (and later onlookers) projected onto their heritage. Though set off the main tourist trails of Fatih, it offers any visitor a profound experience: the hush of prayer space, the glow of sunlight filtered through tracery, and the feeling of stepping into a legend made manifest.

In the final analysis, the Mihrimah Sultan Mosque of Edirnekapı is a poetic collision of imperial ambition, personal devotion and architectural genius. It might not compete in splendor with the grand complexes of Sultanahmet or Süleymaniye, but its subtle virtues – intimacy of scale, clarity of light, and deep historical resonance – make it unforgettable. Even on a quiet afternoon, one senses in the cool columns and marble floors the layers of its story: of a princess’s piety, of Sinan’s mastery, and of Istanbul’s long continuity. That legacy, lasting as the centuries, is the true sun and moon that shines from this enduring monument.