The Ecstasy of Teresa

Bernini's boldest work shows Saint Teresa of Ávila at the peak of a vision, an angel about to pierce her heart with a golden arrow. Her head falls back, her mouth opens, her body goes limp.

He staged it like a play. The chapel that holds it has carved marble balconies on both side walls, filled with sculpted figures who lean out to watch — as if the whole congregation has front-row seats to a miracle.

For centuries, viewers have argued about what Teresa's face really shows. Is it holy rapture or something openly sensual?

Bernini almost certainly knew. Teresa herself described her vision as a sweetness so intense it felt like physical pain. By refusing to pick a side, he made the ambiguity the point — the sculpture works as devotion and as desire at the same time, and that tension is exactly why people still can't look away.