The Ursuline Church of the Holy Trinity in Ljubljana is, for me, one of the most beautiful and striking Baroque monuments in the city—not only because of its architecture, but also because of the personal memories that have been woven in and around it over more than a quarter of a century of my life. I lived for twenty‑five years in its immediate vicinity, so it became part of my everyday world—not merely as a majestic building on Slovenska Street, but as a place that shaped my family, our habits, and our community. My daughters attended catechism classes and the children’s church choir at the Ursulines in the late 1990s and early 2000s, led by the energetic, warm‑hearted, and unforgettable Sister Božena Kutnar. Because of her, and because of the kind‑hearted parish priest Dragan Adam, we felt like one big family during the liturgy. Both of them left an unmistakable mark on the community that gathered in the Ursuline Church for more than a quarter of a century, becoming part of a story that goes far beyond architecture and touches the lives of people.
The church was built between 1718 and 1728 as the central part of the Ursuline convent, which played an important educational and cultural role in Ljubljana. The Ursuline order, dedicated to the education of girls, brought a new pedagogical spirit to the city, and the church was designed as a representative space expressing both the spiritual mission of the order and the ambitions of Ljubljana, which at that time was undergoing an intense Baroque transformation. Even from afar, the church captures attention with its unusual columned façade, embraced by a short decorative arcade motif inspired by St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. The façade rises vertically into three pointed niches and a sharply shaped pediment, creating the impression of an ascending composition. On the grand entablature between the upper façade and the pediment appears the classical motif of triglyphs and metopes, adding order and architectural stability. This interplay of Baroque dynamism and classical restraint is one of the key reasons the church is so distinctive.
Whenever I step inside, I am struck again by the bright, hall‑like interior articulated with pilasters and vaulted chapels. The spatial design naturally leads the eye toward the monumental main altar, one of the most important artistic achievements in Ljubljana. At fourteen meters high, it is the tallest main altar in the Ljubljana diocese. It was created by Francesco Robba, the most prominent Baroque sculptor in the region. The altar is conceived as a dynamic architectural‑sculptural whole, combining marble, stucco, and expressive figures dedicated to the Holy Trinity. Robba’s style is recognizable in the elegant, slightly twisted figures, rich ornamentation, and dramatic composition.
In addition to the main altar, the church contains several side altars created during the 18th century. The Altar of St. Ursula, the founder of the order, is one of the most significant, representing the spiritual core of the Ursuline mission. The Altar of St. Joseph reflects the strong Baroque devotion to this saint, who was among the most venerated figures of the time. The Altar of Our Lady of Perpetual Help reveals the deep Marian tradition that was always present among the Ursulines. These chapels combine the work of local sculptural workshops with influences from Italian Baroque, creating a varied yet stylistically harmonious environment. The gallery from which the nuns attended the liturgy is another distinctive feature—typical of convent churches, allowing a separate yet connected liturgical space.
In front of the church stands the famous Trinity Column, originally erected in 1693 as a votive monument after the plague. The original wooden sculpture was replaced in 1721 by a marble version carved by Francesco Robba. The column originally stood at Ajdovščina, near the former Café Evropa, and was later moved in front of the church, where today a faithful replica stands, while the original is preserved in the City Museum of Ljubljana. The column is a typical example of a Baroque public monument, combining religious symbolism, historical memory, and artistic ambition.
The history of the Ursuline order in Ljubljana is closely tied to the development of women’s education. The Ursulines arrived in the early 18th century and soon established one of the first girls’ schools in the region. Their convent became an important cultural and educational center where girls received knowledge that was rare and precious at the time. The order maintained its pedagogical mission for centuries, continuing even after the Second World War, though in changed circumstances. When my daughters attended catechism and the children’s choir, I often thought about how the Ursuline educational tradition lived on—not in the form of a classical school, but as spiritual and communal formation.
For me, the Ursuline Church is far more than a Baroque monument. It is a place where the grandeur of Baroque architecture meets the warmth of a community that has been shaped over centuries—and continues to be shaped today. It is a place where art, history, education, and personal experience intertwine. It is a church in which I felt at home, where my daughters grew up in faith and music, where Sister Božena and Father Dragan Adam created a sense of belonging that is rare to find. And that is why the Ursuline Church is not only an architectural jewel of Ljubljana, but also a part of my life, my memories, and my inner map of the city.