Perpignan's cathedral, Saint-Jean-Baptiste, is dark inside even at midday, built wide and low in the southern manner with the windows kept small against the heat. Your eyes take a while, and then the gilded altarpieces start to surface out of the gloom one by one.
The tall window over the high altar is the one that holds you, burning red and gold at the top of all that shadow. I let the rest of the frame go dark rather than fight it, because the dark is the room.
The rose window is almost hidden, a small disc of colour set high in a vault that reads as near black. You have to look for it, and I think that is better than if it announced itself.