Nuruosmaniye means "the light of Osman," and its builders chased that idea literally, ringing the prayer hall with tier upon tier of windows so daylight pours in from every side. Finished in 1755, it was the first grand mosque in Istanbul to abandon the sober geometry of Sinan's classical age for the curves of European Baroque. Straight lines give way to undulating cornices, swept arches, and stone carved as if it were soft. Strangest of all is the courtyard: not the usual rectangle but a horseshoe, a semicircle of columns found on no other imperial mosque in the city.
You approach up a broad flight of steps onto a raised terrace, the mosque lifted above the surrounding streets. Inside, a single wide dome floats over a room far brighter than its older neighbours, the light catching gilded calligraphy and pale carved stone. One of its gates opens straight onto the Grand Bazaar, so the hush of prayer sits a few steps from the loudest commerce in the old city. It still works as a mosque today, its fountain, library, and tombs part of a complex that has framed this corner of Çemberlitaş for more than two and a half centuries.