Šerefudin’s White Mosque
Designed in 1969, a modernist Balkan mosque in Bosnia and Herzegovina is a symbol of its era.
In the central Bosnian town of Visoko, Šerefudin’s White Mosque is a thoughtfully-planned sacral building, and one of the town’s most valuable pieces of modern architecture. Built atop the site of a 15th century Ottoman mosque, the current building is named after the architect of the original structure. Though it has aged over time, losing much of its lustre, the mosque is still a striking sight on the streets of Visoko, with its modernist beauty and undulating stature.
Tucked between numerous small shops and narrowly winding streets in downtown Visoko, the mosque was designed in 1969 by Bosnia’s leading modernist architect Zlatko Ugljen, now 86-years old, and built by Ismet Imamović. Taking 11 years to complete, it was awarded the Aga Khan Award for Architecture in 1983, and has come to serve as an intellectual centre for its close community and surrounding neighbourhood — much of which was built after the mosque, in the late 1980s and early 1990s.
The mosque was not meant to be pretentious at the time,
it was supposed to be humanistic
To access the mosque from the road, visitors must walk past the high gates through the yard along a curvilinear ramp that leads downwards to the main door. Framing the wood and glass entrance is a panel of water taps for wudu to the right. A small yard, complete with the original mosque’s cemetery, wraps around Šerefudin and serves as an outer prayer area when needed. It also operates as a social space during the summer, where people can enjoy the evening air. Built below ground level, the mosque’s architecture creates a symbolic separation from the outer world and an intimacy for those inside.
Upon entering the mosque, visitors are welcomed by a main prayer room that’s brightened by an irregularly shaped five-window roof design. The imam who currently serves at the mosque, Hafiz Edin Bukva, notes that the design is symbolic in nature, as it allows light ‘from above’ to reach the interior of the mosque. Its five windows, too, are metaphors for the five principles of Islam, and the five daily prayers.
Hidden symbolism underpins most of the mosque’s architecture. Unnoticeable at first sight, the wall that faces the main entrance is not straight, but rather, it leans backwards in the direction of the Kaaba.
A technical review summary from the Aga Khan Award for Architecture, written in 1983 by Turkish architect and lecturer Atilla Yücel, describes the building, noting that its asymmetrical volume is painted white both in the interior and the exterior and elaborates on the intentions of Ugljen. ‘The inner space, it creates a rather simple, quiet and unified interior of the mosque with slight differences of illumination and an undulating roof: an artificial sky covered with clouds,’ he writes. ‘However, seen from the exterior the same mass has the appearance of an amorphous rock — which strangely recalls the vernacular architecture of some Mediterranean and Aegean churches.’
The mosque’s feature components are constructed from reinforced concrete, such as the two main walls providing support for the cupola. Other materials like plastered concrete (used on the outer façade) and mortar (used inside) are combined with pinewood for the minbar and mihrab. Aged green carpet covers the flooring, while exterior spaces are paved with travertine tiles. Finishing elements include the green painted iron tubes that line both the minaret and the minbar.
Centred in the main room, the wooden mihrab stands out with its sharp, geometric panels that frame the top of the opening, and its green reflective ball that hangs on the wall inside. Not a typical feature of mosques, the ball is specific to Bukva — it allows the imam to sneakily keep an eye on the room during salah.
Behind the main space, a small cascading platform is designated for women. A touch unconventional in Bosnia and Herzegovina, where mosques typically rely on an indoor balcony or perforated screen dividers, Bukva notes the platform was a solution that allowed all the believers in the mosque to pray in unity.
‘The interior of the mosque has a look of complete simplicity. In terms of wall decoration, we have only what is traditional in Bosnia and Herzegovina and that is from the right side, when you look towards the mihrab, the name of Allah, and from the left Prophet Mohammad [PBUH],’ Bukva says. ‘On the wall to the left, we have what we accepted from the Ottomans: the names of four Caliphs and the grandsons of Prophet Mohammad [PBUH]. It is our connection with the golden generation of Islam.’
According to Bukva, the Visoko community had a hard time accepting the design of the mosque and, back when it was first built, there was a sense of resistance to its atypical and modern aesthetic.
During its construction, 94 percent of its financial means derived from public donations — a sign that Visoko residents were heavily involved in the efforts surrounding the mosque’s creation.
Bukva is now looking to enroll children in classes to educate them about Islam and the history of the city’s Muslim community (recorded at around 34,300 in the 1991 city census).3 In order to cater to the imam’s latest plans, the mosque requires an extension — as well as a renovation of other elements, like its roof and the colour of its walls. Aware of the mosque’s architectural value, Bukva has consulted various architects for the upcoming plans who are now working on the building’s renovations.
Nina Ugljen-Ademović, a Bosnian professor of architecture and daughter of the mosque’s architect, explains that the copper roof, built after the Aga Khan win to prevent leakage, altered the building’s conceptual value and degraded the mosque’s aesthetic. For Ademović, Šerefudin’s White Mosque is one of very few valuable examples of modern architecture in Bosnia and Herzegovina; her father has been consulted for its renovation.
‘The mosque was not meant to be pretentious at the time, it was supposed to be humanistic,’ she says. ‘As well, the author tried to make a connection between the past and the spirit of our time.’
Šerefudin’s White Mosque, as Ademović adds, approached traditional Islamic elements, like calligraphy and its minaret, from a modernist perspective. For her, this level of architectural fusion is the infrastructure of the mosque’s artistic significance. ‘It was a step forward that has not been made ever since,’ Ademović says.
This article appears in the issue56 of Brownbook Magazine
