Santa Maria della Vittoria is a small, dark, heavily gilded church on a busy street, and one chapel in it changed what sculpture could do. In the left transept Bernini carved Teresa of Ávila at the moment she described in her own writing: an angel with a golden spear, and a pain she called sweet. Instead of standing on a plinth, she lies on a cloud of marble that appears to hang in the air. The light on her comes from a window hidden above the pediment, and it falls down a screen of gilded bronze rays behind the figures.
The part that is easy to miss is on the side walls. The Cornaro family, who paid for the chapel, are carved in marble sitting in what are unmistakably opera boxes, leaning on the rails, talking to each other and looking across at the scene. Bernini put the patrons inside the work as an audience, which leaves the visitor standing where the rest of that audience would be. The chapel was finished in 1652, and every material in it — stone, bronze, hidden window, coloured marble — works on that one scene.