To spot the Church of San Matteo, look ahead for a striking baroque façade with dramatic curves-convex on the lower level and concave above-framed by tall columns and intricate decorations, standing proudly on Via dei Perroni.
Welcome to the Church of San Matteo! Imagine you’ve stepped back to the 17th century, when this street thrummed with the activity of stone carvers and masons. The foundation stone was laid in 1667 by Bishop Luigi Pappacoda, and if you listen closely, you can almost hear the echo of hammers meeting stone as the younger Achille Larducci-whose uncle happened to be the legendary Francesco Borromini-brought this building’s bold design to life. This church stands where an ancient 15th-century chapel once stood, surrounded by the quiet prayers of Franciscan nuns from the adjoining convent.
But San Matteo is no ordinary church! Its playful façade looks like it’s been wrapped in a baroque ribbon, its lower half puffing out with scale-like decoration, columns perched on high pedestals, and a magnificently carved portal guarded by the proud crest of the Franciscan Order. If you look up, you’ll see two lavishly decorated niches framing the entrance and, above them, curving lines that would make any wave jealous. The top is crowned with a flourish, reminiscent of Borromini’s style from Rome-because every church needs a touch of Roman glamour, don’t you agree?
Step inside and you’re greeted by an airy single nave, laid out in a rare elliptical plan. Imagine sunlight streaming in through ten windows above the chapels-back in the day, the cloistered nuns could secretly peek down from these high vantage points to watch services below. Around you, twelve solemn stone apostles stand watch, the handiwork of Placido Buffelli in 1692, adding a touch of drama to the sanctuary.
As you wander, keep an eye out for a colorful collection of altars: there’s Sant’Agata’s story painted in vivid strokes, Saint Francis of Assisi in quiet prayer, a Pietà statue that actually traveled here all the way from Venice. The high altar at the end of the nave is a riot of ornamentation-its saints and angels keeping San Matteo himself snugly in his niche. And don’t miss the lovely wooden pulpit, flanked by four allegorical statues. Even the organ door above the entrance sparkles-it was once part of the grand Basilica di Santa Croce!
This church has changed hats over the centuries: from its first opening in 1700, to becoming the parish of Santa Maria della Luce after the suppression of the Franciscan convent in 1810. Through wars and change, San Matteo’s laughter, prayers, and stories are still tucked into every curve and corner. And as you stand here, maybe you can feel the centuries-long conversation that never really ended.
