Long before he became Pope John XXIII, Angelo Roncalli spent a decade preaching from the pulpit of St. Anthony of Padua, learning Turkish to reach his Istanbul flock. The church he knew is the largest Catholic sanctuary in the city, built between 1906 and 1912 after its two-century-old predecessor was cleared to make way for a tram line. The Italian-Levantine architect Giulio Mongeri raised it in red brick and terracotta, an Italian take on the Gothic set back from the boulevard behind a forecourt framed by twin brick apartment blocks.
You step off İstiklal through the courtyard gate, and the roar of the avenue thins away. Inside, pointed arches march toward a rose window, candlelight pools in the side chapels, and the air carries the hush of a working parish rather than a museum. Franciscan friars still run it, and Mass is said in Italian, English, Polish and Turkish for a congregation drawn from across the world. A bronze figure of Roncalli stands in the forecourt — a reminder that this brick nave once held the man Turkey still calls the Turkish Pope.