Tucked away in the Derviş Ali neighbourhood of Istanbul's historic Fatih district, the Chora Church, now known as the Kariye Mosque, is one of the city's most extraordinary monuments. Once a Byzantine church, later transformed into an Ottoman mosque, and then a museum, it embodies the deep and complex layers of Istanbul's cultural and religious history.

The church's name, Chora — meaning "in the countryside" — harks back to its origins outside the ancient walls of Constantinople. Its true fame, however, lies within: the interior is adorned with some of the finest surviving mosaics and frescoes of the Late Byzantine period, depicting scenes from the lives of Christ and the Virgin Mary with remarkable beauty and emotion.

During the Ottoman era, in the 16th century, the Chora Church was converted into a mosque, though its Christian masterpieces were largely left in place or lightly covered, preserving their legacy. In 1945, it was secularized and turned into a museum, allowing visitors from around the world to marvel at its artistic splendour. In 2020, by decree of President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, the building was reconverted into a mosque — marking yet another chapter in its long and fascinating history.

Chora's remarkable decorations - mosaic and frescoes - are described in much more detail in the separate text that also presents these beautiful works of art in high-resolution photos.

History

The story of the Chora Church unfolds across more than sixteen centuries — a tale of faith, art, and resilience mirroring the rise and fall of empires. Nestled to the south of the Golden Horn, the church once stood outside the protective embrace of Constantinople's walls, which earned it the name Chora, meaning "in the countryside." Its full title, the Church of the Holy Saviour in the Country, reflected both its physical setting and a deeper spiritual symbolism.

Over time, the final word of the Greek title — Chora — became the name by which the church was most commonly known. The term carried rich layers of meaning: while it originally referred to the church's location beyond the city walls, the Byzantine artists later infused it with profound theology. In the glittering mosaics of the narthex, Christ is portrayed as the "Land of the Living" and the Virgin Mary as the "Container of the Uncontainable", embodying divine mysteries in human form.

When Emperor Theodosius II constructed his formidable land walls in the early 5th century, the once-remote sanctuary was suddenly enclosed within Constantinople's defences. Yet, the name Chora remained — a poetic reminder that its true significance lay not in geography, but in its vision of spiritual refuge and eternal life.

Byzantine era

The origins of this remarkable building possibly reach back to the early 4th century, when it was first constructed as part of a monastery complex outside the walls of Constantinople, during the reign of Emperor Constantine the Great. However, the early history of the Chora Church is shrouded in mystery, partly because the sources often contradict one another. According to one tradition, the site once housed the relics of St. Babylas, an early Christian martyr, in the early 4th century. Another account credits its foundation to St. Theodore, an uncle of Empress Theodora, wife of Justinian I.

A more historically plausible founder appears to be General Crispus, the son-in-law of Emperor Phocas, who is said to have established the monastery in the 7th century after being forced into retirement by Emperor Heraclius. Archaeology offers some clarity: the vaulted substructures beneath the naos have been dated to as early as the 6th century, providing tangible evidence of the site's early significance.

During the 8th and 9th centuries, the Chora Church became a stronghold for the iconophile movement, opposing the iconoclastic policies that sought to suppress religious images. Michael Synkellos, a monk from Jerusalem, served as abbot during this tumultuous period. Born around 761, Michael entered monastic life at a young age and later became the synkellos (spiritual advisor) to the Patriarch of Jerusalem. In 812, he was sent to Constantinople to address theological disputes and was eventually appointed abbot of Chora. Despite facing imprisonment and exile due to his steadfast support for the veneration of icons, Michael's legacy endured. He returned to Chora in 843, where he continued his work until his death in 846. His hagiographies, written by contemporaries like Nikephoros Gregoras, highlight his unwavering dedication to the faith and his role in restoring the monastery.

Other revered figures were also interred at Chora, reinforcing its status as a sanctuary of spiritual resilience. Among them was Patriarch Germanos I, a staunch defender of icon veneration who had been deposed during the turbulent iconoclastic controversies of the 8th century. His burial at Chora symbolized both his enduring influence and the monastery's role as a refuge for those persecuted for their unwavering faith. Another notable figure was Theophanes Graptos, a poet, hymnographer, and vocal opponent of iconoclasm, whose writings contributed significantly to Byzantine liturgy and religious thought. By housing the remains of such devoted defenders of orthodoxy, Chora became not merely a monastery but a spiritual stronghold, a place where courage, piety, and cultural memory were enshrined for generations.

By the late 11th century, the Chora Church entered its second great chapter. Between 1077 and 1081, Maria Doukaina, the mother-in-law of Emperor Alexios I Komnenos, undertook a complete reconstruction of the church. She rebuilt it in the fashionable inscribed-cross (or quincunx) design, a hallmark of Middle Byzantine architecture characterized by elegant symmetry and domed spaces radiating from a central core. Unfortunately, in the early 12th century, the church experienced a partial collapse, possibly due to an earthquake — a common fate for Constantinople's buildings — but it would not be long before it rose again.

In the 12th century, the Chora Church underwent significant renovations under the patronage of Isaac Komnenos, the younger brother of Emperor John II Komnenos. Isaac, a scholar and patron of the arts, is believed to have reconstructed the church in the form of an atrophied Greek cross, a design characterized by a central dome with arms of unequal length. His contributions are commemorated in the Deesis mosaic in the inner narthex, where he is depicted alongside other donors. Although Isaac initially had a tomb built at Chora, he was later interred at the Kosmosoteira Monastery in Bera (now Feres in Greece).

The Chora Church faced challenges during the Latin Occupation of Constantinople (1204–1261), a period marked by instability and foreign control. The monastery suffered from neglect and deterioration, as noted by the scholar Maximos Planudes around 1300, who lamented the reduced state of the monastic library. Additionally, Patriarch Athanasios commented on the poor condition of the monastery, highlighting the hardships faced by its inhabitants.

During this period, Melane, formerly known as Maria, the daughter of Emperor Michael VIII Palaiologos, made significant contributions to the Chora Monastery. After her arranged marriage to Abaqa Khan, the Ilkhanid ruler, she became known as Lady of the Mongols. Following Abaqa's death, she returned to Constantinople and entered monastic life, adopting the name Melane. She is depicted in the Deesis mosaic in the inner narthex of the Chora Church, alongside Isaac Komnenos and other donors.

These renovations and contributions during the 12th and early 13th centuries played a crucial role in preserving the Chora Church as a centre of Byzantine religious and cultural life. Despite the challenges faced during the Latin Occupation, the efforts of figures like Isaac Komnenos and Melane ensured the monastery's continued significance in the Byzantine world.

The Chora's third and most glorious phase came in the 14th century, under the patronage of the distinguished Byzantine statesman and scholar Theodore Metochites. Born in Constantinople to George Metochites, a devoted archdeacon and advocate for the union of the Orthodox and Catholic Churches, Theodore Metochites grew up in a world of intellectual and religious ferment. After the Council of Blachernae in 1285, which condemned his father and led to his exile, young Metochites spent his adolescence immersed in the monastic communities of Bithynia in Asia Minor. There, he cultivated a lifelong passion for learning, studying both secular philosophy and religious texts with equal dedication.

Metochites' brilliance did not go unnoticed. When Emperor Andronikos II Palaiologos visited Nicaea in 1290/91, the young scholar made such a strong impression that he was summoned to the imperial court and appointed Logothete of the Herds, a key administrative post. He thus became an official responsible for the state-run estates in Western Asia Minor that reared horses and mules for the Byzantine army.

Within a little over a year, he had risen to the rank of Senator, balancing his political responsibilities — including embassies to Cilicia in 1295 and Serbia in 1299 — with relentless intellectual pursuit. A polymath, Metochites pursued studies in astronomy under Manuel Bryennios, later becoming the mentor of the renowned scholar Nicephorus Gregoras. Despite his demanding career, he maintained a family life, marrying and fathering five sons and a daughter, Irene, who married John Komnenos Palaiologos, linking him to the imperial family.

Metochites' political career reached its pinnacle in 1321, when he was appointed Grand Logothete, placing him at the height of power and wealth in Byzantine Constantinople. Yet, he was not content with mere administration: he invested his fortunes in culture and faith, most notably in the restoration and decoration of the Chora Church, one of the city's architectural jewels.

Serving as Grand Logothete of the Treasury under Emperor Andronikos II Palaiologos, Metochites transformed the church between 1310 and 1317, adorning its walls and domes with the breathtaking mosaics and frescoes that survive today. These masterpieces represent the pinnacle of the Palaiologan Renaissance, a late flowering of Byzantine art marked by its emotional realism, refined colour, and delicate grace. Though the names of the artists remain unknown, their work turned the Chora into a luminous celebration of faith and intellect.

Metochites did more than beautify the church — he also expanded it. Between 1315 and 1321, he added the funerary chapel (parekklesion), outer buttresses, and the narthexes, blending architectural innovation with spiritual purpose. A passionate scholar, he donated his personal library to the monastery, turning it into a centre of learning and devotion. Yet, his story took a dramatic turn: in 1328, after a political upheaval, the usurper Andronikos III Palaiologos exiled him. Two years later, Metochites returned to Constantinople, adopted the monastic name Theoleptos and spent his final years as a monk within the very church he had adorned — a fitting close to a life devoted to art, faith, and knowledge. Today, his donor portrait still gazes down from a famous mosaic in the church's narthex, immortalizing a man who seamlessly combined statesmanship, scholarship, and artistic patronage.

Among the distinguished figures who found their final resting place within the sacred precincts of Chora were members of the Late Byzantine elite, including Michael Tornikes and his wife. Michael belonged to one of the empire's most prominent aristocratic families, known for their long tradition of scholarship and service in both the imperial court and the church. After a life spent in the intricate world of Byzantine politics and diplomacy, he embraced monastic life under the name Makarios, while his wife took vows as the nun Eugenia.

Their joint burial at Chora reflected not only their personal devotion but also the church's enduring role as a favoured sanctuary for Constantinople's intellectual and political elite. In death, as in life, the Tornikes couple symbolized the blend of piety and prestige that defined the twilight centuries of Byzantium — when faith, learning, and legacy converged beneath the golden glow of Chora's mosaics.

The Greek inscription over the tomb of Michael Tornikes states that: "However many applauses one may collect here (on earth), the buried Tornikes, the triplebest or Grand Marshall, will convict them dead just as a lion, O dear friend, does so to mimicking apes. He who was born of imperial blood also showed a way of life that was fitting to it. For what form of virtue did he not possess, as the appropriate time required in each case? He was also a counsellor before (mature) age and a popular leader and astute judge, and against enemies he breathed a tactical flame, being an inescapable thunderbolt on this crowded mass. He presided over the army like a father, guarding the common good so that the useful would not be robbed. Attaining a noble and befitting marriage, and again obtaining imperial lineage, and leaving this life as a radiant example, he lies as a simple monk among the bones. O sun, O earth, O final applauses, nearly the entire Roman race is in mourning, as far as he is not unknown. But O only living one and transformer of natures, even if he did something not fitting to him, granting him pardon, give him Eden as his inheritance." This translation was provided by Andreas Rhoby from the Institute for Medieval Research of the Austrian Academy of Sciences.

The Chora Monastery also became a hub of intellectual revival. Among its residents was Maximus Planudes, a brilliant scholar who reintroduced Ptolemy's Geography to Byzantine scholars — a rediscovery that would later influence the mapmakers of Renaissance Italy.

In the final days of the Byzantine Empire, the Chora played one last symbolic role. During the siege of Constantinople in 1453, the Icon of the Theotokos Hodegetria, believed to be the protector of the city, was brought to the monastery to inspire and defend the besieged faithful. Yet, despite such devotion, the empire soon fell, and the Chora's story entered a new, Ottoman chapter.

Ottoman times

When the Ottoman armies stormed Constantinople in 1453, the Church of the Holy Saviour in Chora — one of Byzantium's most magnificent sanctuaries — was among the first to fall victim to looting. According to one enduring tradition, the church then safeguarded the revered icon of the Virgin Hodegetria, long considered a divine protector of the city. Legend holds that Ottoman soldiers, entering through the Gate of Charisus, desecrated the icon, cutting it into pieces — a symbolic act marking the end of Byzantine Constantinople.

In the decades that followed, the former church found a new life under Ottoman rule. During the reign of Sultan Bayezid II (1481–1512), the powerful Grand Vizier Hadım Ali Pasha — also known as Atik Ali Pasha — oversaw Chora's transformation into a mosque before 1511. As part of his charitable endowment (vakıf), he established the Kariye Camii, a name derived from the Arabic rendering of the Greek word Chora. Despite its conversion, Ali Pasha treated the building with remarkable restraint. Rather than remaking it, he allowed the structure's Byzantine soul to endure. Only essential modifications were made: the belfry was dismantled and replaced by a slender brick minaret, and a mihrab was added to orient worshippers toward Mecca. Ottoman archives suggest the work was one of careful maintenance rather than reconstruction, preserving much of the church's spatial and architectural integrity.

Over time, however, the shimmering mosaics and frescoes that had once dazzled Byzantine worshippers were concealed. By the 17th or 18th century, they were covered with plaster, in keeping with Islamic prohibitions against figurative religious imagery. Though this act obscured the artistry of Chora's golden age, it inadvertently protected many of the artworks from weathering and vandalism, allowing them to survive beneath layers of history. Earthquakes, however — frequent and often devastating in Istanbul —took their toll, cracking walls and dislodging mosaics.

During the Ottoman period, the mosque continued to attract attention from high-ranking patrons. In 1668, Mustafa Agha, a court official, commissioned a graceful fountain beside the complex to serve the local faithful. A century later, the influential Chief Eunuch (Kızlarağa) Beşir Agha endowed a school and an imaret (soup kitchen) near the mosque, both now lost to time. The building suffered significant damage in the earthquake of 1766, prompting repairs under the architect Ismail Halife, and again after the catastrophic earthquake of 1894, which caused the minaret to collapse.

By the late 19th century, as the Ottoman Empire began to open more fully to Western travellers, the mosque gained a new kind of fame: its hidden Byzantine mosaics, faintly visible beneath centuries of plaster, fascinated European visitors. They began referring to it as the "Mosaic Mosque," a name that reflected the enduring allure of the art still shimmering beneath the surface — waiting to be rediscovered.

The 19th century brought yet another layer of transformation. Restoration efforts by the Evkaf Nezareti (the Ottoman Ministry of Religious Foundations) altered Chora's original silhouette: the domed roofline was flattened, softening the dramatic Late Byzantine profile that once defined it. Yet even through these centuries of change, the Kariye Mosque — as it was now known — remained a living monument, lending its name to the surrounding Kariye neighbourhood (mahalle) and preserving, beneath layers of plaster and history, the luminous heart of Byzantium.

Modern upheavals

After centuries of change, the Chora Church — by then known as the Kariye Mosque — entered a new chapter in the 20th century. In 1945, amid the sweeping secular reforms of the Turkish Republic, the site was secularized and designated a museum by Cabinet Decree. This move reflected the early Republican vision of reimagining Istanbul's Byzantine monuments not merely as religious spaces, but as part of a shared world heritage, open to all. The building was placed under the supervision of the Ayasofya Museum, signalling its status as a cultural treasure rather than a place of worship.

Just a few years later, in 1948, the story of Chora took a hopeful turn. The Byzantine Institute of America and Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine Studies, led by the American scholars Thomas Whittemore and Paul A. Underwood, launched a painstaking restoration project. For years, conservators worked meticulously to remove layers of plaster, revealing once more the brilliant mosaics and frescoes that had lain hidden since the Ottoman era. The restoration was a triumph of modern archaeology and art history, hailed as a revelation of Late Byzantine genius.

By 1958, the transformed building reopened to the public as the Kariye Museum (Kariye Müzesi). Visitors from around the world came to marvel at its mosaics — Christ Pantocrator, the Virgin and Child, the life of the Virgin, and scenes from the Gospels — each glittering fragment a window into the final flowering of Byzantine art before the fall of Constantinople. For more than half a century, the museum stood as one of Istanbul's most enchanting testaments to the city's layered history — a place where the worlds of Byzantium and Islam quietly met beneath a single dome.

However, in the 21st century, Chora's status once again became a subject of national debate. In 2005, the Association of Permanent Foundations and Service to Historical Artifacts and Environment filed a lawsuit contesting its designation as a museum. After years of deliberation, in November 2019, Turkey's Council of State, the nation's highest administrative court, ruled that the site should be reconverted into a mosque. In August 2020, the decision was officially enacted, restoring its former name, Kariye Camii.

The reconversion provoked strong reactions abroad. The Greek Foreign Ministry, along with Greek Orthodox and Protestant Christian communities, expressed deep concern, viewing the change as a loss to the global cultural heritage that Chora represented. Turkey, in turn, defended the decision as a matter of national sovereignty and historical continuity.

After 72 years, Muslim prayers were once again held within its walls on Friday, October 30, 2020, marking the mosque's reactivation. Following further restorations and preparations, the Kariye Mosque reopened for regular Muslim worship on May 6, 2024.

Today, Chora stands as a living symbol of Istanbul's complex identity a masterpiece of Byzantine art, a monument of Ottoman devotion, and a mirror of modern Turkey's evolving relationship with its own layered past.

Architecture and art of the Chora

The Chora Church, as it stands today, is a masterpiece of Late Byzantine architecture — an intricate puzzle of centuries-old additions, restorations, and transformations. Its core follows the form of an atrophied Greek cross. Though smaller than many of Istanbul's surviving Byzantine churches, covering just 742.5 m², the Chora Church stands out for a remarkable reason: its interior decoration has survived almost entirely intact, offering an unparalleled glimpse into Late Byzantine artistry. The decoration sponsored by Theodore Metochites between 1310 and 1321 represents the pinnacle of the Palaeologan Renaissance, a cultural revival that blended classical grace with spiritual intensity. Although the artists remain anonymous, their work stands among the greatest achievements of Byzantine art.

The building unfolds in three principal areas: the narthex, or entrance hall; the naos (nave), which forms the main body of the church; and the parecclesion, a side chapel with a funerary function. Rising above these spaces are six domes — two crowning the esonarthex, one over the parecclesion, and three soaring above the naos — each punctuating the church's interior with a rhythm of light and sacred geometry. Thus, its plan lacks the perfect geometric cohesion typical of earlier Byzantine churches, a reflection of the many phases of rebuilding and Ottoman modifications that reshaped it over time.

The earliest archaeological traces of Chora date back to the 6th century, when a series of vaulted substructures were built beneath the main sanctuary (naos). These foundations, repaired in the 9th century, reveal the site's ancient roots. The first recognizable church on this spot likely followed a cross-in-square plan, crowned with a small dome resting on four slender columns. Parts of its northern, western, and southern walls still survive from the 11th-century reconstruction, linking the modern visitor to the world of the Middle Byzantine Empire.

In the 12th century, under the patronage of Isaac Komnenos, Chora took on the form it roughly retains today: a more robust, atrophied Greek cross. The delicate columns were replaced by massive piers, allowing the structure to bear a larger dome and a newly expanded apse. These changes brought greater stability to the building while creating a more luminous, spacious interior — a stage for the spiritual drama of Byzantine worship.

A century and a half later, between 1315 and 1321, the church was transformed once again under the sponsorship of Theodore Metochites, the polymath and statesman whose vision would define Chora's final Byzantine form. Metochites rebuilt the main dome, reconstructed the apse chapels, replaced both narthexes, and added the magnificent parecclesion, or side chapel, on the south side. It was under his direction that the interior was clothed in marble, mosaics, and frescoes — turning Chora into one of the last and greatest triumphs of Byzantine art before the empire's fall.

The outer narthex

The outer narthex, or exonarthex, originally a light-filled open portico, gradually evolved into a solemn corridor of memory. In the 14th and 15th centuries, its passageways were closed off and transformed into arcosolia, niches that held the tombs of Chora's patrons. It is the first part of the building that one enters. It is a transverse corridor, 4 meters wide and 23 meters long, which is partially open on its eastern length into the parallel inner narthex (esonarthex). The southern end of the exonarthex opens out through the esonarthex forming a western antechamber to the parecclesion.

The exonarthex of Chora is a visual feast, its mosaics weaving the story of Christ's early life with striking narrative clarity. From Joseph's dream and the journey to Bethlehem to the enrolment for taxation, visitors are guided through the pivotal moments of the Nativity. The birth of Christ is followed by the Magi's journey, the inquiry of King Herod, and the flight into Egypt, creating a dynamic panorama of the Holy Family's trials. Darker moments are depicted as well, including two frescoes of Herod's massacres, where mothers mourn their children, and the flight of Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist.

The narrative continues with Joseph's dreams guiding the Holy Family's return to Nazareth and scenes of Christ being taken to Jerusalem for the Passover. John the Baptist also makes his appearance, bearing witness to Christ, alongside depictions of miracles and the Virgin and angels at prayer. In this last image, Mary is labelled in Greek as "Mother of God, container (chora) of the uncontainable (achoritou)," a phrase that encapsulates the theological mystery of Christ's dual nature and cleverly references the monastery's name, the Chora.

Over the doorway to the inner narthex, a striking Christ Pantokrator occupies the lunette. In this mosaic, Christ blesses the viewer with his right hand while holding a jewelled Gospel in his left. The inscription again plays on the name Chora, referring to Christ as the "land of the living", a phrase drawn from Psalm 116:9 and used in the Orthodox funeral service. Its placement above the entrance carries layered significance, especially considering the funerary spaces built beneath the monastery under Theodore Metochites, who himself anticipated being laid to rest here.

Together, the exonarthex mosaics combine narrative storytelling, theological depth, and memorial symbolism, inviting viewers into a sacred journey from Christ's birth to his early ministry, all while situating the church itself as a space of prayer, reflection, and eternal hope.

The inner narthex

The esonarthex, or inner narthex, runs parallel to the exonarthex but is slightly shorter, measuring 18 meters long and 4 meters wide. Its central eastern door opens gracefully into the naos, while a southern doorway provides access to the rectangular antechamber of the parecclesion. At the northern end, a passage leads into a broad west–east corridor skirting the northern side of the naos and connecting to the prothesis, creating a subtle flow between sacred spaces.

Above the esonarthex rise two distinctive "pumpkin" domes: a smaller dome crowns the entrance to the northern corridor, while a larger one sits midway between the naos and the parecclesion entrances. These domes not only enhance the spatial drama of the interior but also continue the visual dialogue of sacred imagery, echoing the Virgin and Christ motifs that grace the mosaics throughout the church. The inner narthex, more intimate and richly adorned than the exonarthex, also contains an arcosolium on its north wall — perhaps reserved for a benefactor or a revered monk.

The esonarthex of Chora is a treasure trove of mosaics, carefully orchestrated to celebrate both divine history and human devotion. At its heart, an enthroned Christ is depicted receiving a model of the church from Theodore Metochites, the 14th-century statesman and scholar who financed the church's major renovations and the addition of the parecclesion. This donor portrait follows the traditional Byzantine visual formula, clearly signalling Metochites' role as the pious benefactor of this sacred space.

Flanking the sanctuary's narrative are mosaics of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, lending apostolic authority to the scenes. One of the most monumental images is the Deesis, featuring Christ and the Virgin Mary, accompanied by two earlier donors: Isaac Komnenos and a nun labelled "Melanie, the Lady of the Mongols," possibly a daughter of Emperor Michael VIII. The scale and composition of this mosaic may echo a similar scene in the Hagia Sophia's south gallery, installed after the end of the Latin occupation of Constantinople (1204–1261). Surrounding these images are mosaics depicting the genealogy of Christ and the noble and religious ancestors of the Virgin, anchoring the church's sacred history in both divine and human lineage.

The first three bays of the inner narthex tell the story of the Virgin Mary and her parents, Joachim and Anne, with striking attention to emotion and everyday life — hallmarks of late Byzantine artistry. Among the vivid scenes are: the rejection of Joachim's offerings, the Annunciation to Saint Anne, the meeting of Joachim and Anne, and the birth of the Virgin. Her early years are captured in the first seven steps of the Virgin, moments of parental affection, and her blessing by the priests.

Later scenes depict the Virgin's presentation in the Temple, receiving bread from an angel, and being given the skein of purple wool for weaving a veil for the Temple. The High Priest Zechariah calls the widowers together to determine the Virgin's future husband, placing their rods on the altar in prayer. She is then entrusted to Joseph, who takes her to his house. In one remarkable mosaic at the well, the young Mary awkwardly turns toward the approaching Archangel Gabriel in the Annunciation, a scene adapted ingeniously to fit a triangular space. The narrative continues with Joseph departing for six months on business, only to return and suspect that Mary is pregnant, a subtle inclusion of human drama that complements the divine narrative.

Across the exonarthex and esonarthex, there is a persistent emphasis on Christ and the Virgin, visually guiding worshippers toward the sacred mysteries and linking the patron's devotion with the eternal story of salvation.

The parecclesion

To the right of the esonarthex, doors open into the parecclesion, a side chapel that served as a mortuary space for family burials and memorials. The parecclesion, built by Metochites, is one of the most extraordinary funerary chapels of the Byzantine world. Rising at its centre is the second-largest dome in the church, spanning 4.5 meters in diameter, which bathes the space in soft, sacred light. A narrow passageway connects the parecclesion directly to the naos, flanked by a small oratory on one side and a storeroom on the other, emphasizing the chapel's intimate and functional design.

The parecclesion's frescoes are more than decorative—they are a profound visual theology of salvation, perfectly suited to the chapel's funerary purpose. In the Christian worldview, the dead will be raised at the end of time, a promise powerfully captured in the Anastasis (Harrowing of Hell) and Last Judgment scenes that dominate the ceiling. Among Late Byzantine works, the Anastasis is especially celebrated, appearing in countless surveys as a masterful example of spiritual drama rendered in fresco.

In the Anastasis, Christ has just broken down the gates of Hell and stands at the center, radiant in vivid white garments and surrounded by a luminous mandorla, pulling Adam and Eve from their tombs. Behind them, the righteous of the Old Testament—including John the Baptist, King David, and Solomon—look on, while beneath them lies the bound personification of Hades, depicted as an African figure, symbolizing the conquered realm of death. The composition emphasizes triumph over death and the promise of resurrection for all believers.

The Last Judgment, or Second Coming, complements this theme. Here, Christ is enthroned, flanked by the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist, forming the classical Deesis trio of intercession. Around them, the heavenly court of angels presides, watching over humanity.

Additional panels within the parecclesion portray two scenes of Moses and six revered Church Fathers: Saint Basil of Caesarea, Saint Gregory of Nazianzus, Saint Cyril of Alexandria, Saint Nicholas of Myra, Saint Athanasius of Alexandria, and Saint John Chrysostom, linking the chapel's imagery to the broader authority and tradition of the Christian faith. Through these frescoes, the parecclesion communicates a sweeping narrative of divine justice, intercession, and eternal life, inviting viewers to contemplate the mystery of death, resurrection, and salvation while surrounded by some of the finest artistry of the late Byzantine era.

Along the walls of the parecclesion, four arcosolia — arched recesses for tombs — likely once held the remains of Theodore Metochites and his family, firmly anchoring the chapel in the memory of its devoted patron. Standing guard over these sacred spaces are soldier saints, their swords raised in solemn vigilance, as if eternally protecting the tombs and the souls they enshrine.

Among these celestial guardians are Saint Eustathius, Samonas, and Gurias. Saint Eustathius, once a Roman general named Placidus under Emperor Trajan, experienced a miraculous conversion while hunting a stag near Tivoli, when he saw a crucifix lodged between the animal's antlers. Baptized along with his family and renamed Eustathius, he endured a series of trials testing his faith — loss of wealth, the death of servants, the abduction of his wife Theopista, and the kidnapping of his children by wild beasts. Miraculously, he was restored to his former life, only to ultimately face martyrdom under Emperor Hadrian. Though the Catholic Church regards parts of this story as legendary, it symbolizes steadfast faith under trial.

Saints Samonas and Gurias, often paired together, were bold preachers of Christianity in Edessa. Arrested for refusing to offer sacrifice to pagan gods, they endured brutal tortures — beatings, suspension by their hands, heavy weights tied to their feet, and imprisonment in stifling cells — before being taken beyond the city and beheaded around 299–306. Their steadfastness immortalized them as protectors of faith.

Other painted guards of the graves are Saints Procopius of Scythopolis and Sabbas Stratelates, equally formidable figures. Procopius, a learned ascetic and theologian, was martyred during the Diocletian persecutions. His life combines scholarship and heroism, and legends depict him as a miraculous warrior, even defeating armies with the sign of the cross.

Sabbas Stratelates, a Christian general under Emperor Aurelian, exemplifies courage and piety. From his youth he served Christ, aiding the needy and visiting imprisoned Christians. When called to renounce his faith, he refused, enduring beatings, fire, and immersion in cauldrons of tar, yet emerging unharmed. Seventy soldiers witnessing his trials converted and were martyred alongside him. Ultimately, Sabbas was drowned in the Tiber River in 272, his faith undiminished to the end.

Through these frescoed figures, the parecclesion transforms into a gallery of spiritual guardianship, linking the mortal resting beneath its domes with a vivid tapestry of saints who model courage, devotion, and divine protection. The arcosolia, frescoes, and warrior saints together create a space where memory, art, and theology converge, emphasizing the promise of salvation and the triumph of faith over death.

There is also an additional tomb beneath the apse floor, marking it as a space devoted entirely to commemoration and resurrection. Beneath the parekklesion lies a small cistern, composed of two vaulted chambers — an ingenious water system that once gathered rainwater for the monastery's needs.

Every element of the parecclesion — from its domed ceiling to its painted saints — reinforces the themes of death, resurrection, and divine salvation that defined its purpose.

The naos

The central doors of the esonarthex open into the naos, the main body of the church and the heart of Chora's sacred space. Towering above it is the largest dome in the church, an impressive 7.7 meters in diameter, which floods the interior with light and creates a sense of vertical grandeur.

Flanking the modest apse are two smaller domes: the northern dome rises above the prothesis, connected to the bema by a short passage, while the southern dome crowns the diaconicon, accessible through the parecclesion. This arrangement creates a subtle choreography of space, guiding the movement of clergy and worshippers alike while emphasizing the liturgical hierarchy of the sanctuary.

Though centuries of change and neglect have taken their toll, three mosaics survive in the naos, standing as precious witnesses to Chora's former splendor. These fragments hint at the dazzling pictorial program that once adorned the entire sanctuary, enveloping worshippers in a luminous world of color, devotion, and sacred storytelling.

The most striking of these is the Koimesis, or Dormition of the Virgin, depicting Mary in her final repose before ascending to Heaven. In this poignant scene, Jesus cradles an infant, symbolizing Mary's soul, bridging the earthly and the divine. Alongside this are mosaics of Jesus Christ and the Theotokos (Virgin and Child), images that originally stood as proskynetaria icons, flanking the templon, the ornate barrier that once separated the sanctuary from the naos. Though the templon itself no longer survives, these mosaics continue to convey the devotional focus of the sanctuary, drawing the eye and the heart toward the central mysteries of Byzantine faith.

A narrow passageway connects the parekklesion to the naos, flanked by two small rectangular rooms. The eastern one may have served as an oratory, while the western room, left unfinished, hints at architectural ambitions never completed. The two apse chambers flanking the main sanctuary were added in the 14th century; the northern one, topped by a low, drumless dome, opens into the apse, while the southern chamber, covered by a ribbed vault, was later sealed off. To the north stands a two-story annex, whose upper level — possibly a library or skeuophylakion (treasury )— was accessed by a narrow staircase. In the church's southwest corner once stood a bell tower, demolished after the Ottoman conquest and replaced by the slender minaret that still rises beside it today.