The Church of Santa Maria della Vittoria is a baroque treasure chest, which smacks of polychromy, stucco and a great aesthetic sense. One of the many wonders of Rome that I invite you, as a tour guide, to visit to understand many things about the Eternal City. Furthermore, a way like any other to see, absolutely free of charge, one of the greatest masterpieces of Baroque art and of Bernini. But let's go in order.

The Church of Santa Maria della Vittoria was built at the beginning of the seventeenth century and is managed by the Discalced Carmelites, which feel a strong sense of belonging to this church. The reason goes back directly to the origin of this place of worship which, as the name inspires, derives from a military and, at the same time, miraculous victory! We are in 1620, during the Thirty Years' War, which saw the Catholic army face off against the Protestant one. During the so-called Battle of the White Mountains the Catholics were routed, but the army chaplain (a Carmelite) intervened, as he moved with the troops bringing an image of the Madonna with the visibly scarred Child hanging around his neck (the eyes, in fact, had been completely pierced). Precisely from the holes due to the scars, however, it seems that a strong light broke out, so much so as to confuse the enemies and give the Catholics the opportunity to win. And even today the central nave is centered on this miracle, or rather on the victory of the Virgin Mary over heresies. If you raise your eyes, in fact, you will see a fresco by Cerrini (1609 - 1681), in which the saving role of the Madonna is well understood. You will also be able to understand how, in return, this vision of the Virgin immediately makes us think of the military victory I mentioned previously. But it is the entire decorative complex of the church that is striking. Its stuccos, its walls, the rich counter-façade with the organ, the gilded frames and the paintings make this church a truly rare pearl. To give you an idea, it was in 1705 that the pillars of the church were completely made of alabaster. In addition to this, you must also add great names in art history who lent their skills to the embellishment of the church. I'm talking about the altarpieces of Domenichino, or the work of Guercino. But, above all, I am talking about the extraordinary wonder created by the genius of Bernini, located in the Cornaro Chapel, on the left transept (on the left looking at the altar). The so-called Ecstasy of Saint Teresa is simply sublime, with the Angel of the Lord who, with calmness and love, strikes with his arrow Saint Teresa of Avila, who was able to experience her ecstasies in close contact with God . An arrow that represents the "fire of God" , as she herself wrote. The entire layout of the chapel is suggestive: the aedicule in which the sculptural group is inserted, the choice of colors which almost guide the eye towards the saint, totally enraptured by the vision, with passion and strength, and the balustrade from which they overlook the whole scene, like spectators in a theatre. Well, it is precisely this great theatricality that Bernini manages to give the secret to the entire masterpiece. Not only the extraordinary emotions that are projected completely out of the marble, thanks to the feelings expressed by the face of the saint and the angel. But it is the colors, the light that hits the work, coming from a small hidden window with yellow glass (like bronze rays), that give a sense of transitory, ephemeral. As if we must seize the moment, to truly appreciate all of Bernini's art, and the ecstasy of his saint. Do you understand why this church, and this masterpiece, deserve all your attention?

I conclude with the words written by Santa Teresa in her own hand, in an attempt to explain in words what she felt in her deep contact with God. I'm just saying that it is impressive how real Bernini made what the saint had explained in words: "God was pleased to favor me with the following vision. A cherub held in his hand a long golden arrow, on the iron tip of which seemed to have some fire. It seemed that he was stabbing it into my heart several times, pushing it into my gut, which he then seemed to tear out when he withdrew the dart, leaving me enveloped in a furnace of love. The pain of the wound was so intense that it made me moan, but at the same time it was so sweet that it prevented me from desiring its end and from seeking any other diversion outside of God. When I was in this state I felt like I was out of my mind. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone, but to be alone with my torment which seemed to me the greatest joy of all creation."