The Chapel next to San Miniato – Project by Ky Nguyen

The story of San Miniato al Monte goes something like this: during the persecution of Christians under the rule of Emperor Decius, Minas was punished for his beliefs. What was supposed to be a cruel entertainment for the Emperor in the Amphitheater outside the walls of Florence at the time turned to a miracle as Minas was beheaded and proceeded to carry his own head to Mons Fiorentinus, across the Arno River, to where the basilica now stands.

The Basilica of San Miniato is considered one of the finest examples of a Romanesque church in Tuscany, overlooking the breathtaking view of
Florence is a lesser-known destination than the nearby Piazzale Michelangelo.
Nowadays, one can easily make their way towards the basilica with the help of its paved roads and pedestrian paths to the basilica.

Still, though, one would still need some determination to climb the top of the steps to see it or for its view. I was there not too long ago for a site visit to explore the potential of building the temporary Chapel there.
This was during the Basilica’s renovation. Once you make it, you are rewarded with something more than the sight of the Basilica of San Miniato al Monte and of the city, but at the same time, the solemn and soothing atmosphere that the place gives off.

With the scaffolding blocking the basilica façade, the front of it is treated as its extension, a sacred ground where the tranquility and the sight of the city offer a place to reflect on oneself on a nearby bench after they have reached outside and above the city.

This was my mindset when I was sitting there on a Saturday morning, and it was the same one I approached the chapel with.
Despite designing a Chapel in front of the renovated Basilica, the intention of the Chapel was modest and humble, respecting the existing context as if it too was a visitor to the site, just like I was. Hence, the form of the building was chosen to be a truncated triangle pointing towards the site where the San Miniato miracle supposedly occurred, the Amphitheater site (now it is an oval building block in front of the Santa Croce).

In that sense, the Chapel becomes a pointing hand of the Basilica that recalls the legend.
One can mistakenly say that it points towards the Duomo or, in general, the city, but that is not the case here. When visitors climb up the masonry stairs, they can first see the Basilica, when it finishes renovation, and to their right is the Chapel sitting discreetly in the corner; it wants nothing to disrupt or draw attention to you. Therefore, from the ground perspective, the building has a diminishing presence to itself, modest and humble, with its Corten steel roof bowing towards the basilica entrance. The façade of the basilica uses mainly White Carrara Marble and Green serpentine, but within it lies the structural limestone, only bordering the main façade work while still providing the crucial structural support. The chapel uses limestone with a similar purpose, providing the essential religious service without taking away attention from the main Basilica.
More importantly, the mid-day sun accentuates it further and gives it a welcoming tone rather than a pious one.
The entrance faces the site of where the San Miniato miracle appened, symbolically escaping the persecution of the city and returning to face it again.
While the inside of the basilica features intricate mosaics and stonework, such as the marble zodiac floor, the chapel excels in its simple, functional craftsmanship. The rustic gesso walls bear the builder’s brush marks, spiritually opening the space and reflecting sincerity. The beige tone continues from the limestone to the birchwood roof rafters and the Clamp Bench.

The bench’s combination of birchwood and Corten steel best reflects the chapel’s simplicity. The intention was to avoid deforming the steel, yet still connect it to the birchwood posts. A wooden block with brass hardware clamps down the metal seat and backrest, making the construction visible. This approach extends to the wall’s cross, where the weathered steel cross gently rests on protruding wooden posts, resembling hands holding the cross. The rafters descend toward the basilica side, but on the south, the roof pitches up, creating an opening for sunlight. This sunlight casts the cross’s shadow across the room, emphasizing the gesso wall markings without overwhelming visitors.

The interior holds only a few objects to maintain an elevated, cohesive worship space.
Overall, the design direction was a direct response to observations made during the site visit—the look and feel of the site, its context, its connection with the city, and more. While the chapel is an addition to the basilica, it is an abstraction of the place and respects its history. It never seeks to challenge the Basilica of San Miniato. Instead, it defines itself through candid, sincere qualities inspired by its larger, more elaborate counterpart.