Kocatepe Mosque

Stand still for a moment and listen. Behind you, the traffic of central Ankara hums and honks. In front of you, the sound drops away. Pale stone steps rise toward a broad courtyard, and above it all four slender minarets lift into the sky like sharpened pencils. On a clear day, the light here is dry and bright. It turns the stone almost white and makes the grey domes look soft, as if they were drawn in chalk.

This is Kocatepe Mosque, the largest mosque in Turkey's capital. It sits on a hill called Kocatepe, above the busy Kızılay district at the centre of modern Ankara. From many parts of the city you can see its minarets above the apartment blocks. For a lot of people who live here, it works almost like a compass. Lost in the streets? Look for the four towers, and you know roughly where you are.

Here is the first surprise. The building in front of you looks centuries old, but it is not. Construction began in the late 1960s and finished in 1987. That makes it younger than many of the office buildings around it. The design looks back on purpose. It borrows the language of the great Ottoman imperial mosques, built in Istanbul and Edirne in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when the Ottoman Empire was at the height of its power.

The story of how it got this look is one of the more interesting design debates in modern Turkey. The first winning design came from the architect Vedat Dalokay. His idea was strikingly modern, with a thin concrete shell instead of a classical dome. Work on that version started, and foundations went into the ground. But the project ran into strong criticism, and it was stopped. Many people felt that a mosque in the capital should look like a traditional mosque.

And now the second surprise. Dalokay's rejected idea did not disappear. He developed a related concept for a mosque competition in Pakistan, and it won. That building became the Faisal Mosque in Islamabad, with its tent-like roof and pencil minarets. So, in a sense, the mosque Ankara turned down now stands thousands of kilometres away, at the foot of the Margalla Hills, and it became one of the best-known buildings in Pakistan.

Back in Ankara, a new design was commissioned from the architects Hüsrev Tayla and Fatin Uluengin. They chose the classical path. If you know the Blue Mosque, or Sultan Ahmed Mosque, in Istanbul, you may notice the family resemblance. The central dome is supported by half domes that step down around it, like a cascade. This stepped shape was the signature of the great Ottoman builders, and it helps a very large space feel calm and balanced.

Take a moment in the courtyard before you go inside. Traditional Ottoman mosques often have a courtyard with an arcade of arches and domes, and a fountain for ablution, the ritual washing before prayer. Watch for a while. You may see people rinsing their hands, faces and feet before they walk in. It is quiet, practical and personal. For many worshippers, these few minutes at the water are part of the prayer itself, not just preparation for it.

When you step inside, the first thing you notice is height. The dome rises far above you, and the space under it is open, with very few columns breaking it up. Soft carpet covers the floor, so footsteps vanish. Huge chandeliers hang low on long cables, forming rings of light just above head height. This low-hanging style is typical of Ottoman mosques. It brings the light down to the people praying, rather than leaving it lost in the dome.

Look up at the walls and the dome. You will see Arabic calligraphy, large flowing letters, often in gold or deep colours against a pale background. In Islamic art, calligraphy holds a special place. The written words of the Quran are treated as a form of beauty in their own right, so you will not find statues or paintings of people here. Instead, the decoration is letters, geometry and plant-like patterns that repeat and interlock.

Now the third surprise, and this one makes many visitors laugh. Below the mosque, built into the hill, there is a commercial level, with shops, a supermarket and parking. It sounds strange at first. But it fits an old Ottoman habit. The great imperial mosques were often part of a larger complex, with markets and services whose income helped support the mosque. Kocatepe simply does the same thing in a modern way, with shopping trolleys instead of caravans.

This mosque is a living place of worship, not a museum, so a few customs matter. Shoes come off before the prayer hall. Shoulders and knees should be covered, and women usually cover their hair with a scarf. Visitors are welcome, but it is best to avoid the main prayer times, especially the Friday midday prayer, when the hall fills with worshippers. Speak softly, and do not walk directly in front of someone who is praying.

If you visit at prayer time from outside, you will hear the call to prayer, the ezan, rise from the minarets. Ankara has many mosques, so the calls can overlap and echo across the hills, one voice after another. In Kızılay, the sound mixes with buses, street vendors and students heading to cafés. It is a good reminder of what this city is: a modern capital, built mostly in the twentieth century, holding its traditions close.

Before you leave, step back to the edge of the courtyard and look up once more. Follow the line of the domes as they rise, one shape leading to the next, until they meet the four minarets. Then turn around and look at the city spread below you, the concrete blocks and busy avenues. That contrast is the real story of this place. An old architectural language, chosen deliberately, standing in the middle of a young capital. Take your time walking down the steps... and listen as the traffic slowly returns.