Santa Maria in Vallicella (Chiesa Nuova)

Stand in the small piazza for a moment and listen. Traffic hums along the wide avenue behind you, but the fountain in front of the church makes a steady, gentle splash. The air smells of warm stone and coffee from the nearby bars. Ahead of you rises a pale travertine facade, broad and calm, with columns and a triangular pediment. This is Santa Maria in Vallicella. Most Romans simply call it the Chiesa Nuova, which means the New Church.

That nickname is a small joke of history. The church is more than four hundred years old, so it is not new at all. It got the name because it replaced a much older and smaller church on the same spot. The old name, Vallicella, means little valley. It refers to a slight dip in the ground here, in a low part of the city near the Tiber. Today you will barely notice the slope.

The story of this place belongs to one man, Saint Philip Neri. He came to Rome from Florence in the sixteenth century. He was a priest, but not a distant or severe one. He walked the streets, talked with young men, visited the sick, and gathered people to pray, sing and discuss faith together. Romans loved him for his warmth and his sense of humour. Some called him the Apostle of Rome.

Philip's informal gatherings grew into a community of priests called the Congregation of the Oratory. In 1575 Pope Gregory the Thirteenth gave the group official approval. He also gave them the old church of Santa Maria in Vallicella. Philip decided that the little building was too small. So the old church came down, and work on a much larger one began. The members of this community are still called Oratorians, or Filippini, after Philip himself.

Now look at the facade again. It was finished in the early seventeenth century, after Philip's death. Its design is restrained compared with later Roman churches. There are two levels, framed by flat pilasters and columns, with a large central door. Notice the warm, slightly porous stone. This is travertine, the same limestone used in the Colosseum and in Saint Peter's. In the afternoon sun it turns a soft honey colour.

Before you go inside, turn to the fountain. Romans call it the Fontana della Terrina, which means the Soup Tureen Fountain. It really does look like a large covered bowl. It once stood in the market square of Campo de' Fiori, a short walk from here. It was moved to this piazza in the twentieth century. Look closely at the lid for a carved inscription. It is a gentle message about doing good.

Now step through the doors. The change is sudden. Outside, the facade is pale and simple. Inside, the church glows with gold, coloured marble and painted ceilings. Let your eyes adjust and then look straight up. The ceiling of the nave, the dome and the half-dome above the altar are all covered with frescoes. They were painted in the seventeenth century by Pietro da Cortona, one of the great painters of the Roman Baroque.

The scene on the nave ceiling hides a surprise that most visitors miss. It shows a story from the building of this very church. According to the tradition of the Oratorians, an old wooden beam was about to collapse during construction. Philip had a vision of the Virgin Mary holding it up, so that no one was hurt. Cortona painted that miracle directly above your head. You are standing under a picture of the church being saved.

Now walk toward the high altar. Above it hangs a work by the Flemish painter Peter Paul Rubens, made when he was a young man in Rome. Here is the second surprise. Rubens first painted the altarpiece on canvas. But the light in the church made the surface shine, and it was hard to see. So he painted it again, this time on slate, a dark stone that does not reflect light the same way. The first version left Rome and is now in France.

The central slate panel has another clever detail. It frames a small, much older image of the Virgin and Child, which was venerated in the original church. On important days, the Rubens panel can be moved to show the old image behind it. Two more slate panels by Rubens stand on either side, showing groups of saints. Take a moment to compare their deep, rich colours with the brighter frescoes overhead.

To the left of the altar is the chapel of Saint Philip Neri. His remains rest here. The chapel is richly decorated with inlaid marble and precious stones. Above the altar is an image of the saint based on a painting by Guido Reni. Philip died in 1595. Accounts written by people close to him say his heart was unusually large. His followers saw this as a sign of the great love that people felt in him. Other chapels hold paintings by Federico Barocci, known for his soft, gentle colours.

Back outside, look to the left of the church. The building with the curved brick facade is the Oratory of the Filippini, designed by Francesco Borromini. This was where the community met to pray and listen to music. Philip believed that music could draw people closer to faith. Over time, the sacred musical works performed in oratories like this one took their name from the place. That is why we still call a large religious piece for voices and orchestra an oratorio.

Now take one last look at the piazza. The fountain is still splashing. Scooters weave past on the avenue, and people sit on the church steps to rest. Notice how the pale facade and the warm brick of the Oratory stand side by side, two different moods of the same community. As you walk away toward the river or the side streets, remember that a cheerful priest and his friends began all of this, simply by meeting to talk and sing together.