Originally consecrated in 467 AD on the sight of the tomb of St. Bibiana, a 4th century Roman matron who was flogged to death for her beliefs, the church saw two major renovations. First in 1224 under Pope Honorius III and then in 1624 under Pope Urban VII. Urban commissioned the work to Gianlorenzo Bernini, still a young man of 26 at the time and more known for his skill as a sculptor, and not yet for his mastery of architecture. His first architectural commission, and certainly his smallest, this church nonetheless has early signs of Bernini's flair for the theatrical. As the foot print of the church was already in place, Bernini was charged with building a new facade and redesigning the apse.
Here's the church set against one of the massive modern buildings that make up Termini
And the side of the church covered with graffiti.
The facade is two stories with a broken pediment surmounted by a small cross at the very top. Three things struck me as particularly Berniniesque in this early piece of his. The first is the three arches in the first story. This brings to mind a triumphal arch, which carries along with it the idea of grandiosity, especially as people in Rome at the time would know the Arch of Constantine next to the Colosseum quite well at this time. So despite the church's small size Bernini was able to make the viewer think of grander things. Next point of interest are the columns, in the lower story they are Ionic and in the second story they are Doric. This goes against the ancient Roman principles (ergo Renaissance) laid out explicitly by Vitruvius in his Ten Books of Architecture. Following the ancients, one would put Doric columns on the lower register, and Ionic above (and Corinthian above that if there were another story, is in the Colosseum). By reversing this order Bernini brings more attention, therefore more importance, to the middle of the upper story, where the Doric columns line the small balcony.
The last feature that struck me about the facade was the railings on the upper level, what would be the third floor. They seem an odd addition, there would have been little use for the roof, if there's even access to it. The only explanation I can think of is that they extended the height of the sides of the facade so the central part does not appear to stick up too much.
The interior of the church is lavishly decorated and if your eyes aren't immediately distracted by Bernini's sculpture over the main they might pause for a moment on the frescoes that decorate the clerestory. The lighting was not particularly good so this is only a small snapshot of what's there (the entire clerestory on both sides of the nave is covered in frescoes). The scenes, painted by Pietro da Crotona and Agostino Ciampelli, depict the life (and death, below) of St. Bibiana.
The main altar, including the sculpture, was designed by Bernini as well. The columns are Corinthian, as if a continuation from the other two orders outside, and the saint is shown leaning against the column to which she was tied while she was flogged and holding the whips that were used to beat her. Supposedly while she was tortured she laughed the whole way through the ordeal until she expired and Bernini captured that expression in her face, instead of pain and torment she seems to be aloof to what is going on.
In an unassuming corner just to the left of the main door is the column that St. Bibiana was supposedly tied to. It certainly does look old and has some marks that look eerily like finger nail scratches, but as with most of these relics, I'm a little skeptical.
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