An Italian church fresco has ignited a political and clerical firestorm after an angel painted inside Rome’s historic Basilica of St Lawrence in Lucina appeared to bear a striking resemblance to Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. Amid the controversy and public outrage, the face of the angel was abruptly painted over, inviting intervention by church authorities. Artist Bruno Valentinetti later admitted the resemblance was intentional, saying he was ordered by the Vatican to cover it up. As investigations were launched to determine the original appearance of the cherub, the basilica drew crowds of curious visitors, disrupting Mass and turning the centuries-old church into the center of a national debate over art, politics, and religious propriety. Meloni herself brushed off the uproar with humor, joking on social media that she “definitely doesn’t look like an angel.”
This image is at the center of a storm in Italy. It is a picture of an angel scribbled on the
wall of a chapel of the Basilica of St. Lawrence in Lucina, in central Rome. But now, the face of
this winged angel has been erased. A sloppy slab of paint or plaster has been put on it.
Why? Because it had a striking resemblance to the Italian Prime Minister, Giorgia Meloni.
The controversy began after an artist restored a face of an angel with an uncanny likeness to
Meloni. And that was enough to trigger political and clerical uproar in Italy,
forcing the church and government officials to launch an investigation into the matter.
After the outrage, 83-year-old artist Bruno Valentinetti admitted that it was indeed the
minister's face. He, however, insisted that it was similar to the original.
Valentinetti told La Repubblica that he was ordered to cover up the painting by the Vatican.
Rome's Cardinal Baldassare Raina expressed displeasure at the whole incident.
Raina said images of sacred art and Christian tradition cannot be misused or exploited.
The Basilica of St. Lawrence, one of the oldest in Rome, which is just a five-minute walk from
Meloni's office, had seen an influx of curious visitors hoping to catch a glimpse of the now
infamous fresco. The ruckus gave the Basilica newfound celebrity status, with curious locals
and tourists lining up to photograph the Meloni cherub, at times disrupting mass.
It certainly seems to me that what we're witnessing here is nothing more than a classic
case of a storm in a teacup. Now, it seemed quite evident that indeed after seeing the photo
of the restoration in the newspapers, a certain resemblance was discernible, we could say.
After that, if this matter, I repeat, was divisive or had caused a scandal, did they do well to
decide to remove it and then perhaps restore it to its original state? But I'm afraid that no one
actually knows. It's not like there are any records. It wasn't a Caravaggio, you know.
The parish priest, I believe, always remained calm because, I repeat, it's not like he's just anyone.
He has the responsibility, you know, to take people to mass and so on and so forth. All the rest,
we can certainly say there are norms and laws that must be respected. One of the many issues
is perhaps also the artist's copyright because the one who restored it is also the one who, in his
time, had created the original painting. So, it's not like someone else can decide how he should do
his work, but in a church there are reasons of expediency and so on and so forth. Then, I repeat,
the cardinal vicar or whoever acts on his behalf can say, in Rome we'd say, get yourselves in order.
He heard an interview on the television news and he claims it's purely coincidental
that he sees no resemblances. However, others have pointed it out to him. But in actual fact,
we specifically came here to see it for ourselves and we find a great deal of resemblance.
Well, it's very Roman, isn't it? I mean, when you look at churches around Rome, so often
popes and princes and cardinals have had their image incorporated into the art. She didn't ask,
I don't think, to have her image incorporated in here. So, it's certainly become a tourist
attraction. There are more people in there to see Maloney than there are at Santa Maria del
Popolo to see the Caravaggio. If the previous image is identical to this one, then nothing
needs to be done because the restoration hasn't resulted in any discrepancies from the original
artwork or from the previous image. However, if a true difference is observed, then yes,
it would be necessary to restore the original version. The real challenge, of course,
is finding that original image. The parish priest isn't responsible for the decoration at all in
the sense that the actual owner is someone else entirely. The responsibility for its protection
lies with the superintendents, assuming there's even any protection for a decoration from the
year 2000, which there isn't. So, what exactly are they looking for from me? But once we painted it,
I certainly didn't do it myself. Maloney, I say, she tends to joke around just like I usually do.
I personally have never, in any of these interviews, approached this particular topic
as if it were a matter of such crucial importance, because for me it's simply not a matter of such
crucial importance. It's also something quite—I find it rather a contrived affair in some ways,
so I always treat it with enough irony. But as a priest, truly, if it becomes a matter of life or
death, then we'll make changes. In fact, if you give me a photo, I'll put yours up.
Valentinetti had first made the image in 2000, when one of the basilica's front chapels was
renovated to include a bust of the last king of Italy, Umberto II. Included in the decoration
was a cherub holding a map of Italy, seemingly kneeling down before the king. The cherub was
restored after water infiltrations damaged the basilica starting in 2023 and emerged with the
face of Maloney. The investigations that were launched were to identify how the original 2000
cherub looked, with the aim of restoring the painting to that image. The faceless cherub
seen Wednesday appeared as a temporary fix to erase Maloney's likeness from the work.
The government agency in charge of preserving Rome's cultural sites has now informed the Church
that any further restoration work will require authorization and a sketch of the proposed image.
Meanwhile, Giorgia Maloney made the controversy a light affair on social media. On her Instagram post,
Maloney posted an image of the look-alike angel with the caption,
No, I definitely don't look like an angel, accompanied by a laughing emoji.