The Mosques of Travnik // A Stunning Celebration of Colour
The gorgeous exterior of Travnik’s Šarena Mosque // © KAPphotographie // Shutterstock.com
Everything about the Sulejmanija Mosque screams centerstage. By definition, mosques are not supposed to be ostentatious structures, but the creativity of humanity made the marriage of architecture and art an inevitability. The evolution (devolution?) of architecture into a form of art history has been disastrous for modern architecture, but it has been an undeniable boon for the human eye. Buildings might not fulfil their central purpose anymore, but my oh my, are they mighty fine to look at.
Most mosques are exempt from this. Those double-minaret behemoths are not, but any small-town mosque worth its salt straddles the line between function and form and does so with grace and focus in equal measure. Mosques are beautiful buildings, increasingly ornamental in aesthetics, but the initial purpose of the structure remains paramount. No wacky shapes, no attempt to revolutionise the idea. I read once that most buildings are predictions and all predictions are wrong. Mosques don’t predict, they provide.
Travnik’s Sulejmanija Mosque perfectly straddles the line between aesthetic beauty and absolute functionality. The world knows it better as the Šarena Mosque, a description that falls between colourful and ornamented, both of which are apt. The mosque is the shining light of Travnik’s old square, the old town centre, with delicate decorative drawings affording it an aura of importance, of care. It is calligraphy in architectural form, homages to nature that speaks of a desire to bring the human soul closer to the glittering world it is lucky enough to physically inhabit.
The intensely detailed interior of the Šarena Mosque // © betibup33 // Shutterstock.com
That was the point, to a degree. The mosque was constructed in the 16th century, its purpose to provide Travnik with a central mosque for its rapidly-expanding population. A community developed around it, shops, markets, inns and the rest, as Travnik grew from a small settlement into a regional centre. It was extended in 1757 by then-Bosnian Vizier Ćamil Ahmed-pasha, a man about whom I could find little information, but what do the biographies of men matter when legacy lies in structure?
Besides, the structures we build aren’t eternal. The elements often see to that. A fire in 1815 razed the mosque before renovations were completed by Sulejman Pasha Skopljak, an Ottoman military commander who became the first Vizier of Belgrade following the quashing of the First Serbian Uprising in 1813. It was under the watchful eye of Skopljak that the artistic edits became more pronounced. The Šarena Mosque remained the centre of Islamic life in the old heart of Travnik, but now it came with added artistic value. The great fire of 1903 wasn’t strong enough to destroy it. The mosque had found its final form.
The two floors of the Šarena Mosque // © FS Stock // Shutterstock.com
That artistic streak blossoms brightly inside. The layout is simple, essentially a big ol’ quadrangle stretched across two floors with a third underneath outside for shops, offices and the like. The ceiling is like a chessboard, deep green dominating, while the walls take the motifs of the exterior to another level entirely. There is calligraphy everywhere, paintings of flowers, tulips, lilies, dandelions, cypresses and more. You see apple trees, vines, stalks, ibrik and more. Arabic accentuates the paintings, incomprehensible to me but undeniably beautiful.
If you were to tell me that the Šarena Mosque was the most beautiful in Bosnia and Herzegovina, I wouldn’t be in a position to disagree. It is unique, and not just because the minaret (itself older than the rest of the mosque) stands to the left of the entrance.
But the story of mosques in Travnik does not start with this work of art. It begins up the hill, in the walls of the fortress, with a town mosque constructed at the end of the 15th century. The Varoš Mosque followed at the beginning of the 16th century, the first built outside the bulwarks, initially with a wooden minaret before taking on its current form following another fire. Today it shimmers in a Neo-Moorish style conceived by Miloš Milošević, an engineer from Sarajevo financed by a man called Ziba Kopčić, while the red and cream facade was a later addition. In the 2nd half of the 20th century, it was a museum, before the end of Yugoslavia brought it back to its origins. It remains the only Neo-Moorish mosque in Travnik.
A foreboding sky above the Lončarica Mosque // © Shutterstock.com
A little further down the hill is the Lončarica Mosque, constructed at the end of the 17th century and named after the pottery market that used to buzz with meaning nearby. This too has battled fires over the centuries, but its current form is a testament to the grace of mosques. The slope behind it is a disparate cemetery, the deferential white tombstones focusing attention on the off-yellow of the mosque and the delicacy of human lives. Several notable figures are buried here, including Ibrahim-bey Firdus (a commander in the army of Husein Gradaščević) and Derviš Korkut, the man who saved the priceless Sarajevo Haggadah in World War II.
A walk down Travnik’s main pedestrian artery brings you to the Lukačka Mosque, constructed at the beginning of the 17th century and rebuilt over the centuries, most notably financed by Austrian diplomat Baron von Burian. The mosque door remains one of the most photographed things in Travnik, a stunning celebration of colour that juxtaposes magnificently with the austere white of the mosque itself. It might be the single most beautiful image in the city.
The Hadži Ali-bey Mosque and its neighbouring Clock Tower // © Bernd Zillich // Shutterstock.com
Continue on away from the pedestrian street, and your feet will bring you to the Hadži Ali-bey Mosque, most notable for the clock tower that stands patiently next to it. This mosque was built by Mehmed-pasha Kukavica in 1758, a man who came to the area from Foča on orders of calming the then-fiery situation down. Mehmed-pasha went about his business by focusing on development, building this mosque and much more. It was destroyed by fire, of course, but Hadži Ali-bey Hasanpasić rebuilt it just a decade later. The necropolis is the final resting place of Kukavica and his sons, along with many other Travnik benefactors, while the clock tower curiously begins its day with sunrise, not midnight. It has a point.
But it all comes back to Sulejmanija, the colourful, the ornamented. After all, everything about it screams centerstage. A visit to Travnik is a priceless opportunity to celebrate what happens when buildings of faith are constructed with the heart in mind. The structures we build are not eternal, but legacy is. Insert your own Legends Never Die reference here, if you must.
