Two cardinals from the same family, Paolo Emilio and Laudivio Zacchia, had an oratory dedicated to Saint Sebastian built between 1602 and 1620 at the spot known as del Campo, on the saddle below the old castle of Vezzano, of which nothing survives. The Zacchia were local nobility, and their oratory ended up taking over the role of parish church, because the old Romanesque church of Santa Maria was falling into decay. From there came the sixteenth-century font, other sacred furnishings and even the title of Santa Maria Assunta, which joined that of Saint Sebastian. The church is now the seat of the parish in the vicariate of the Alta Val di Magra, in the diocese of La Spezia-Sarzana-Brugnato.
What to see
It starts before you go in. The forecourt is paved with a risseu, the mosaic of coloured pebbles that in Liguria is laid out in front of churches: stones from river and sea, chosen by colour and set one by one by hand, forming a pattern you only make out standing in the middle of it.
The facade has two levels framed by orders of pilaster strips: the doorway below, a wide window above, Baroque volutes linking the two floors, and a curved crowning gable closing the design. Inside, the space is very bright, with three naves, side altars separated by piers with Corinthian capitals and, at the centre of the apse, the Baroque high altar in polychrome marble. The piece that repays the stop is at the second altar of the left nave: the sculpted Pietà by Anton Maria Maragliano of Genoa, one of the leading names of Ligurian Baroque sculpture.
Visiting
The church stands in piazza del Popolo, in the centre of Vezzano Inferiore, and it is a working parish: the surest way to find it open is to arrive shortly before Mass, otherwise ask at the presbytery. The risseu shows best when the pebbles are wet from rain or when the sun is low: the colours separate and the pattern lifts out of the grey. The old centre is walked on foot, so the car is better left outside it.
Our editors' tip
We suggest seeing this church straight after Santa Maria, in via Santa Maria. They are a few minutes apart and together they tell the story of a move. The sixteenth-century font still in use here came from there, and looking for it after seeing the church that had to give up its title changes the way you read it.