Art and architecture in the seventeenth century is full of the same fascination with the
natural world that led to the creation of learned societies and collections of curiosities.
Much of it is also a celebration of the power of strong leaders, both secular rulers and
church offi cials, who ordered, paid for, and sometimes helped design gigantic paintings
and buildings. The word usually used to describe seventeenth-century art, architecture,
and music is “baroque,” which may be derived – the origins are debated – from the
Portuguese word for a pearl that is deformed and not perfectly round, barroco . The word
was fi rst used in the middle of the eighteenth century as a term of criticism to describe art
that was exaggerated, emotional, confused, twisted, and theatrical. This baroque style was
a decline, in the eyes of its eighteenth-century critics, from the classical forms prized and
emulated in the Renaissance and early seventeenth century, and favored again in their own
day. Even worse, in some eyes, was “rococo,” a term fi rst coined by late-eighteenth-century
artists to dismiss art and architecture from the early eighteenth century that they judged
overly fussy, busy, precious, and decorative. Since the words were invented, art historians
and cultural critics have debated what was and what was not “baroque” or “rococo,” and
whether these terms should be used at all. They still prove useful to describe certain trends
and style, however, though they have lost their distinctly pejorative sense; whether you like
baroque, rococo, or classicism – or all three – is a matter of personal taste.
Art later labeled baroque fi rst appeared in Rome in the late sixteenth century, when
the papacy, the Jesuits, and other patrons encouraged art that was more emotional,
powerful, and exciting than the orderly and often symmetrical art of the Renaissance.
Dramatic art would glorify the reformed and reinvigorated Catholic Church, appealing
to the senses and proclaiming the power of the church to all who looked at paintings
or sculpture or worshipped in churches. Secular rulers, especially in Catholic
Europe, recognized that this grand style would express the authority of the state as
easily as that of the church, and built magnifi cent baroque palaces set in elaborate
gardens with cascading fountains, trees trimmed into fanciful shapes, and artifi cial
grottoes lined with shells, fossils, and other interesting natural objects. Louis XIV’s
palace of Versailles (begun in 1661) sits in the middle of just such gardens; it has about
1,300 rooms, including the huge Hall of Mirrors decorated with paintings glorifying
the king’s achievements, one of which is the frontispiece in chapter 9 .
Baroque architecture was designed with large numbers of columns, sweeping curved
forms, and ornate decoration, while baroque sculpture pulls the viewer into the scene
with a tremendous sense of movement, strong feelings, and realistic features. Baroque
painting tends to display large-scale dynamic forms and intense emotions, with strong
contrasts between light and dark (called “chiaroscuro”); the fi gures are often arranged
diagonally to heighten the drama. Painters and their patrons in different parts of Europe
favored different subjects and styles, however, so that there are striking variations
in paintings that are all labeled “baroque.”
In Italy, Michelangelo da Caravaggio (1573–1610) used people who looked like village
peasants or artisans when portraying traditional biblical fi gures, sometimes offending
the church offi cials who had commissioned his paintings with these unidealized
and unorthodox interpretations. He often cloaked his fi gures in shade penetrated by a
bright light from an unknown source, combining this technique – called “tenebrism”
– with gestures and facial expressions designed to capture the exact moment of a startling
event, such as the conversion of St. Paul or the beheading of John the Baptist.
Artemisia Gentileschi (1597–?1651), who learned to paint from her father, was one of
the many painters inspired by Caravaggio’s revolutionary vision, frequently portraying
powerful biblical or classical heroines at a particularly tense moment. The infl uence
of Caravaggio appears in many Spanish painters, including Francisco de Zurbarán
(1598–1664), whose intense pictures of meditating monks and saints seem to be both
real people and ethereal models to be venerated. Diego Velázquez (1599–1660), the offi
cial court painter to King Philip IV of Spain for nearly forty years, also uses dramatic
lighting and bold colors in his many portraits of royal family members.
Artists working in the Netherlands, especially Rembrandt van Rijn (1606–69), also
showed deep insight in their work, capturing individual personalities often engaged in
introspection. These qualities emerge most clearly in the series of about a hundred etched,
drawn, and painted self-portraits that Rembrandt made throughout his life, fashioning
his visual legacy to match Vasari’s judgment that painters were “rare men of genius.”
Rembrandt did not spend all his time gazing inward, however, for he also received commissions
for individual and group portraits, primarily from wealthy middle-class urban
residents. Rembrandt and his contemporaries, Franz Hals (1580?–1666), Jan Vermeer
(1632–75) and others, are often called the “Dutch masters,” most of whom perfected one
type of painting, such as portraits, seascapes, still lifes, or the intimate domestic scenes of
women reading, children playing, or families eating called genre paintings. Many of these
paintings were not done for specifi c patrons, but were sold at fairs or increasingly at the
shops of professional art dealers, who produced catalogs describing their wares. Art shops
became gathering places for those interested in new cultural forms, and art dealers also
bought and sold antiquities and imported artifacts along with locally produced paintings,
prints, and drawings. In the eighteenth century, reproductions of famous works,
offered at a price middle-class people could afford, were sold in shops in every city, while
lesser-known artists sold their works at street fairs and markets.
In terms of reputation and commissions, the most successful seventeenth-century
artist was Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640), who used every square inch of his gigantic canvases
to glorify royal power when his patrons wanted this. His paintings of events from
secular and Christian history and from mythology are crammed with writhing muscular
men, fl eshy semi-nude women – a body type later dubbed “Rubenesque” – and chunky
smiling cherubs, even when the main subject is a saintly miracle or a royal wedding.
Rubens ran a huge workshop, and his pupils and assistants did much of the actual
painting after the master had designed the composition and provided oil sketches as
models, with Rubens returning at the end to add a line or spot of color here and there.
Rubens oversaw the mass-production of prints and tapestries based on his paintings,
organized pageants in which his paintings served as backdrops, and served as a diplomat
in warring post-Reformation Europe. After one of these missions – to Madrid
trying to broker a treaty between Spain and England – he was knighted by Charles I
of England.
Among Rubens’s many apprentices was Anthony Van Dyck (1599–1641), who became
the court painter to Charles I. Van Dyck’s elegant and refi ned portraits of the
royal family set a pattern for fl attering portraits of the wealthy and powerful, later followed
by the English painters Thomas Gainsborough (1727–88) and Joshua Reynolds
(1723–92), two of the founders of the Royal Academy of Arts.
By the end of the seventeenth century, Paris began to rival Rome and Amsterdam as
an artistic capital. Though in terms of scale Louis XIV’s architectural projects are often
seen as baroque, in terms of style Louis favored a slightly more restrained look that became
known as classicism, typifi ed by the dignifi ed, serious mythological and biblical
scenes of Nicolas Poussin (1594–1665). After Louis’s death in 1715, however, French aristocrats
decorating their houses in Paris and villas in the country increasingly favored
the light, delicate, and highly ornamented style later called rococo. They painted interiors
and exteriors pink, yellow, and aqua, adding embellishments made of plaster, shells,
and artifi cial marble. For the walls they purchased paintings of games, shepherdesses,
or couples courting, lighthearted subjects of which Antoine Watteau (1684–1721) was
the undisputed master. From France, rococo spread to southern Germany and Austria,
where palaces, churches, and even monasteries were built in this intricate style, with
mythological goddesses mixed in with Christian saints.
Rococo never became very popular in England or Italy, where architects and sculptors
– and their patrons – continued to prefer more classical styles, taking their inspiration
from the sixteenth-century Italian architect Andrea Palladio (1508–80). Palladian
style, also called neo-classical, used simpler forms such as the square and circle rather
than curves and swirls, and favored white rather than the bold colors of baroque or the
pastels of rococo. (The preference for white was in part an imitation of classical statuary,
which was dug up in great quantities after the discovery of the buried Roman cities
of Pompeii and Herculaneum in the middle of the eighteenth century. We now know
that most classical statuary was originally brightly painted.) Neo-classical buildings
and statues appeared in country houses and city squares in Britain, and then in other
countries of Europe and the British colonies as well. White domed and pillared neoclassical
buildings form the heart of Washington DC today, and many North American
government buildings have also been designed in this very familiar style.