The Spiritual Rococo: Decor and Divinity from the Salons of Paris to the Missions of Patagonia (Visual Culture in Early Modernity) [1 ed.] 1409400638, 9781409400639

Citation preview

The Spiritual Rococo A groundbreaking approach to Rococo religious décor and spirituality in Europe and South America, The Spiritual Rococo addresses some basic conundrums that impede our understanding of eighteenth-century aesthetics and culture. Why did the Rococo, ostensibly the least spiritual style in the pre-Modern canon, transform into one of the world’s most important modes for adorning sacred spaces? And why is Rococo still treated as a decadent nemesis of the Enlightenment when the two had fundamental characteristics in common? This book seeks to answer these questions by treating Rococo as a global phenomenon for the first time and by exploring its moral and spiritual dimensions through the lens of populist French religious literature of the day-a body of work the author calls the “Spiritual Rococo” and which has never been applied directly to the arts. The book traces Rococo’s development from France through Central Europe, Portugal, Brazil, and South America by following a chain of interlocking case studies, whether artistic, literary, or ideological, and it also considers the parallel diffusion of the literature of the Spiritual Rococo in these same regions, placing particular emphasis on unpublished primary sources such as inventories. One of the ultimate goals of this study is to move beyond the cliché of Rococo’s frivolity and acknowledge its essential modernity. Thoroughly interdisciplinary, The Spiritual Rococo not only integrates different art historical fields in novel ways but also interacts with church and social history, literary and postcolonial studies, and anthropology, opening up new horizons in these fields.

Gauvin Alexander Bailey is Professor and Alfred and Isabel Bader Chair in Southern Baroque Art at Queen’s University, Kingston, Canada. Before that he was Professor and Personal Chair in Renaissance and Baroque Art at King’s College, University of Aberdeen.

VISUAL CULTURE IN EARLY MODERNITY Series Editor: Allison Levy A forum for the critical inquiry of the visual arts in the early modern world, Visual Culture in Early Modernity promotes new models of inquiry and new narratives of early modern art and its history. We welcome proposals for both monographs and essay collections which consider the cultural production and reception of images and objects. The range of topics covered in this series includes, but is not limited to, painting, sculpture and architecture as well as material objects, such as domestic furnishings, religious and/or ritual accessories, costume, scientific/medical apparata, erotica, ephemera and printed matter. We seek innovative investigations of western and non-western visual culture produced between 1400 and 1800.

The Spiritual Rococo Decor and Divinity from the Salons of Paris to the Missions of Patagonia Gauvin Alexander Bailey

First published 2014 by Ashgate Publishing Published 2016 by Taylor & Francis 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017, USA

Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business Copyright © 2014 Gauvin Alexander Bailey Gauvin Alexander Bailey has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Notices .. Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. The Library of Congress has cataloged the printed edition as follows: Bailey, Gauvin A. The spiritual rococo: decor and divinity from the salons of Paris to the missions of Patagonia / by Gauvin Alexander Bailey. pages cm.—(Visual culture in early modernity) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-4094-0063-9 (hardcover: alk. paper) 1. Decoration and ornament, Rococo. 2. Decoration and ornament—Social aspects. 3. Decoration and ornament—Psychological aspects. 4. Aesthetics, Modern—18th century. 5. Aesthetics—Religious aspects. I. Title. NK1355.B35 2015 709.03’32—dc23

ISBN 9781409400639 (hbk)

2014008226

For Peta

Contents

List of Illustrations   Acknowledgments   Introduction   1

2

ix xix 1

“The Dream of Happiness”: The Literature of the Spiritual Rococo and the Christianity of Reason  

23

Spiritual Rococo and the Eighteenth-Century Salon Sermons of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason Treatises of the Spiritual Rococo Treatises of the Christianity of Reason

27 30 35 41

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”: Rococo in France  

53

Origins and Development of the Rococo, the “Goût Moderne” 59 The “Genre Pittoresque” 65 An Architectural Conduct Book: The Hôtel de Soubise 76 82 Serious Matters in Rococo Painting Rococo Spirituality and French Rococo Church Décor 94 3

“Bright Shining as the Stars”: Spiritual Rococo in Central Europe   The Master Printers of Augsburg Central Europe, the Catholic Enlightenment, and French Spiritual Literature Cuvilliés and the Wessobrunner Stukkatoren Italy and Central European Ceiling Painting Architecture, the Cartouche, and the Central European Church Interior

109 120 125 129 134 148

viii The Spiritual Rococo

4

Architecture “Fashioned of Ornament”: Dominikus Zimmermann and Johann Michael Feichtmayr Heaven on Earth

154 163

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste”: Spiritual Rococo in Portugal and Brazil  

177

Spiritual Rococo, the Portuguese Salon, and the Luso-Brazilian Enlightenment Enter the Rococo: Paris and Augsburg Prints in Portugal and Brazil Portuguese Regionalism and the Benedictine Abbey of Tibães Brazilian Rococo Minas Gerais Rococo and Its Diffusion 5

178 183 190 197 208

“O Happy Vision!”: Spiritual Rococo in Spain and Spanish South America  

237

Non-Iberian European Immigration to the Cono Sur Rococo in Buenos Aires, Córdoba, and Santiago Mission Rococo in Paraguay and Patagonia Bourbon Reforms and French Spirituality in the Cono Sur

242 250 271 283

Epilogue: “Superfluous Stucco and Laughable Decoration”: Rococo, Religion, and the Global Enlightenment  

297

Appendix A: French Spiritual Literature in Central European Collections   Appendix B: French Spiritual Literature in Luso-Brazilian Collections   Appendix C: French Spiritual Literature in the Spanish Southern Cone   Bibliography   Index

315 345 361 373 403

List of Illustrations

Color Plates 1 Germain Boffrand, Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740. Photo: Author 2 Jean-Antoine Watteau, Holy Family, ca. 1715. Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum/photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets 3 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, study for the façade of Saint-Sulpice, Paris, 1726. Ink, gouache, and watercolor on paper. Waddesdon, The Rothschild Collection (The National Trust) 4 Festsaal, Schaezlerpalais, Augsburg, 1765–1770. Photo: Author 5 Franz Joseph Spiegler, Saint Benedict and his Followers Pay Homage to the Virgin Mary and the Holy Trinity, nave fresco with stuccoes by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, Abbey Church, Zwiefalten, Swabia, 1751. Photo: Author 6 Matthäus Günther and Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave, Abbey Church, Rottenbuch, Bavaria, 1737–1745. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

7 Ignaz Günther, Saint Notburga, polychrome limewood, Benedictine Abbey church of Rott am Inn, 1760–1762. Photo: Author 8 Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave pendentive cartouches, Abbey Church, Steingaden, Bavaria, 1740–1741. Photo: Author 9 Johann Baptist Zimmermann, High Altar (detail), Johanneskirche, Landsberg am Lech, Bavaria, 1752. Photo: Author 10 Church of “Die Wies” (Wieskirche), Bavaria, detail of apse. Photo courtesy Michael Mertens 11 Manuel da Costa Ataíde, Apparition of Our Lady of Porciúncula, nave ceiling painting, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, Brazil, 1802. Vault constructed 1772–1774. Photo courtesy Percival Tirapeli (Baroque Churches of Brazil, Sao Paulo: Metalivros, 2008), photo by Jacob Gelwan 12 Luís Pinheiro and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira (?), Capela-Mor, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, Brazil, begun 1781, altarpiece begun 1790. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa

x

The Spiritual Rococo

13 Manoel do Sacramento, The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, Third Order Carmelite church, Mogi das Cruzes, Brazil, 1802. Photo: Author

2.6 Jean Bérain, Two Grotesques (engraving). Published by Jeremias Wolff, Augsburg, ca. 1708–1724. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

14 Pedro Carmona, side altar (detail), El Pilar, Buenos Aires, ca. 1771. Photo: Author

2.7 Ferdinando Galli Bibiena, A palatial interior with archways, supported by columns and a staircase. Pen and brown ink and grey wash, over graphite. London, British Museum

15 José de Sousa Cavadas and Guaraní sculptors, High Altar, San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, Paraguay, ca. 1752–1755. Photo: Author 16 Guaraní workshop, High Altar and chancel (detail), Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, Capiatá, Paraguay, completed 1769. Photo: Author Black and White Figures 2 “As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”: Rococo Décor in France

2.8 Pierre Lassurance and others, Hôtel de Roquelaure, Paris, exterior of Salon Blanc, 1722–1724. Photo: Author 2.9 Decorative window motif, Maison Eynaud, Rue de l’Arbre-Sec, Paris, 1717–1721. Photo: Author 2.10 Jacques Verberckt and others, boudoir, Chateau de Rambouillet, 1730–1736. Photo: Author

2.1 Simon Challe, The Genius of Truth Lifting the Veil from Error, pulpit of the Church of Saint-Honoré, Paris, 1752–1758. Photo: Author

2.11 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Morceau de fantasie, from the Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1734). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-258. F.G. Waller-Fonds

2.2 Jean-Honoré Fragonard, The Swing, ca. 1775/1780. Washington, DC, National Gallery of Art

2.12 François de Cuvilliés, Chemineé decorée de glaces, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

2.3 Plan of the Rez-de-Chaussée at the Hôtel de Lassay, Paris, from Architecture Françoise (Paris, 1727). Collection: Author

2.13 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Cabinet de Mr. Le Comte Bielinski Grand Marechal de la Couronne de Pologne executé en 1734, from the Quatorzième livre des Oeuvres de J.A. Meissonnier (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1747–1748). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-331. F.G. Waller-Fonds

2.4 Jacques Verberckt and others, Cabinet intérieur du Roi, Versailles, boiseries executed in 1753. Photo: Author 2.5 Paulus van Vianen, “Diana Plate,” Dutch, 1613. Silver. Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum

2.14 Jacques Lajoüe, fantasy cartouche from Nouveaux tableaux d’ornements et rocailles (engraving). Published by Gabriel Huquier, Paris, ca. 1734. Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

List of Illustrations

2.15 Nicolas Pineau, boiseries in the Salon Blanc at the Hôtel de Roquelaure, Paris, 1733. Photo: Author 2.16 Jean Mondon, fantasy rocaille from Quatrième livre de formes ornées de rocailles… (Paris, Antoine Aveline, 1736). Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale de France 2.17 Pierre-Edmé Babel, fantasy cartouche from Cartouches pour estre acompagnés de suports et trophées (Paris, mid-eighteenth century). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs 2.18 Christophe Huet, Panel from La Grande Singerie, Château of Chantilly, 1735–1740. © RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY 2.19 Premier Étage, Hôtel de Soubise, from Jacques-François Blondel, Architecture Françoise (Paris, 1752–1756). Houghton Library, Harvard University 2.20 Chambre de Parade de la Princesse, Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740, with cornice stuccoes by Nicolas Sébastian Adam. The alcove is hung with deep red damask. Through the door is the brightly lit salon. Photo: Author 2.21 Germain Boffrand, Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740. Photo: Author 2.22 Germain Boffrand, Salon du Prince at the Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740. Photo: Author 2.23 Charles-Joseph Natoire, Psyche Greeted by Zephyr, 1737–1739. Oil on canvas, Salon de la Princesse, Hôtel de Soubise, Paris. Photo: Author

xi

2.24 Boëtius à Bolswert, Fuge dilecte mi … Plate 45 from Herman Hugo, Pia Desideria (Antwerp, 1624). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum 2.25 Pierre-Charles Trémolières, The ‘Characters’ of Theophrastus, or Sincerity, 1737. Oil on canvas, children’s Salle de Compagnie, Hôtel de Soubise, Paris. Photo: Author 2.26 Jean-Antoine Watteau, The Pleasures of the Dance, ca. 1716–1717. Oil on canvas. By Permission of the Trustees of Dulwich Picture Gallery 2.27 Carle Van Loo, Spanish Reading, 1754. Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum/photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets 2.28 François Boucher, Virgin and Child with the Young Saint John and Angels, 1765. Oil on canvas. © The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Image source: Art Resource 2.29 François Boucher, Are They Thinking About the Grape? 1747. Oil on canvas. Chicago, The Art Institute. Scala/White Images/Art Resource, NY 2.30 Jean-Antoine Watteau, Holy Family, ca. 1715. Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum/photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets 2.31 François Boucher, Light of the World, 1750. Oil on canvas. Lyon, Musée des Beaux-Arts. © RMN-Grand Palais/ Art Resource, NY

xii

The Spiritual Rococo

2.32 Jean Restout, The Rest on the Flight to Egypt, signed 1756. Oil on canvas. Paris, Louvre. © RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY 2.33 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, study for the façade of Saint-Sulpice, Paris, 1726. Ink, gouache, and watercolor on paper. Waddesdon, The Rothschild Collection (The National Trust) 2.34 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, High Altar project for Saint-Sulpice, Paris, 1727, from Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1747–1748). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-353. F.G. Waller-Fonds 2.35 Pulpit, Notre-Dame-des-BlancsManteaux, Paris, 1749. Photo: Author 2.36 Emmanuel Héré de Corny and others, Interior of nave (detail), Church of Saint-Jacques, Lunéville (organ by Nicolas Dupont), completed 1745. Photo courtesy Pol Mayer 3 “Bright Shining as the Stars”: Spiritual Rococo in Central Europe 3.1 Dominikus Zimmermann, nave, Church of “Die Wies” (Wieskirche), Bavaria, 1745–1754. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey 3.2 Chancel, Wieskirche. Photo: Author 3.3 Interior with iconostasis, St. Andrew’s, Kiev, by Bartolomeo Rastrelli, 1747–1762. Photo: Author 3.4 Hans Ulrich Glöckler, HeiligkreuzAltar, 1592. St. Nikolaus, Überlingen, Swabia. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

3.5 Matthias Fackler, High Altar, St. Mariä Geburt, Eschlbach, Bavaria, ca. 1765. Photo: Author 3.6 Johann Michael Feichtmayr, Gnadenaltar, Pilgrimage church of Vierzehnheiligen, Franconia, 1763. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey 3.7 François de Cuvilliés and Johann Baptist Zimmermann, Parade Bedroom, Munich Residenz, 1731. Photo: Author 3.8 François de Cuvilliés and Johann Baptist Zimmermann, Amalienburg, Nymphenburg Palace, Munich, 1734–1739. Photo: Author 3.9 Franz Xaver Habermann, rocaille from series 111 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel. Augsburg, mideighteenth century. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung 3.10 Ignaz Carl Junck, altarpiece model from series 35, engraved by Jacob Gottlieb Thelott and published by Georg Hertel, Augsburg, 1740–1760. London, Victoria & Albert Museum 3.11 Philipp David Danner, Saint Rupert, Bishop of Salzburg (engraving), Augsburg, ca. 1750. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung 3.12 Festsaal, Schaezlerpalais, Augsburg, 1765–1770. Photo: Author 3.13 François de Cuvilliés, cartouche from Livre de Cartouches irréguliers, engraved by Franz Xaver Jüngwierth, Munich, 1738. London, British Museum 3.14 Giuseppe Sardi and others, façade (detail), S Maddalena al Pantheon, Rome, 1725. Photo: Author

List of Illustrations xiii

3.15 Egid Quirin and Cosmas Damian Asam, Johanneskapelle altar (detail), Cathedral, Freising, Bavaria, 1735–1738. Photo: Author 3.16 Gianlorenzo Bernini, Cornaro Chapel, S. Maria della Vittoria, Rome, with Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, 1647–1652. Photo courtesy Lawrence Lew, O.P 3.17 Baciccio (Giovanni Battista Gaulli): Triumph of the Name of Jesus, Ceiling of the Church of the Gesù, Rome, 1679–1685. Photo courtesy José Garrido 3.18 Andrea Pozzo: Glorification of the Missionary Enterprise of the Society of Jesus, Sant’Ignazio, Rome, 1691–1694. Photo: Author 3.19 Cosmas Damian Asam, The Virtues of Saint Corbiniani, nave fresco, Cathedral, Freising, Bavaria, 1723–1724. Photo: Author 3.20 Matthäus Günther, Saint Augustine in Glory, dome fresco, with stuccoes by Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, Abbey Church, Rottenbuch, Bavaria, 1737–1745. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey 3.21 Johann Baptist Zimmermann, First Appearance of Saint Michael at Monte Gargano, St. Michael, Berg am Laim, Bavaria, 1743–1744. Photo: Author

3.24 Matas Motiejus Sluščanskis, Annunciation, ceiling fresco, Church of the Holy Spirit (Šv Dvasios), Vilnius, Lithuania, ca. 1760s. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey 3.25 Franz Joseph Spiegler, Saint Benedict and his Followers Pay Homage to the Virgin Mary and the Holy Trinity, nave fresco, 1751, with stuccoes by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, 1747–1751, Abbey Church, Zwiefalten, Swabia. Photo: Author 3.26 Matthäus Günther and Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave, Abbey Church, Rottenbuch, Bavaria, 1737–1745. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey 3.27 Matthias Fackler, pulpit, Pfarrkirche Mariä Geburt, Eschlbach, Bavaria, ca. 1765. Photo: Author 3.28 Franz Joseph Spiegler, Europe, 1749, with stucco work by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, 1747–1751. Nave spandrel fresco, Abbey Church, Zwiefalten. Universal Images Group/ Art Resource, NY 3.29 Ignaz Günther, Saint Notburga, polychrome limewood, Abbey Church, Rott am Inn, Bavaria, 1760–1762. Photo: Author 3.30 Dome cartouche, Gardekirche, Vienna, begun 1755. Photo: Author

3.22 Wenzel Lorenz Reiner, The Dominican Order Defends Orthodoxy, nave fresco, Saint Giles (Sv Jiljí), Prague, 1734–1735. Photo: Author

3.31 Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave pendentive cartouches, Abbey Church, Steingaden, Bavaria, 1740–1741. Photo: Author

3.23 Johann Georg Bergmüller, ceiling fresco, chapel, Schloß Haimhausen, Bavaria, 1749–1750. Photo: Author

3.32 Jakob Rauch, clerestory galleries, Abbey Church, Rott am Inn, Bavaria, 1760–1762. Photo: Author

xiv

The Spiritual Rococo

3.33 Johann Baptist Zimmermann, High Altar, Johanneskirche, Landsberg am Lech, Bavaria, 1752. Photo: Author 3.34 Detail of Figure 3.33. Photo: Author 3.35 Pierre-Edmé Babel, fantasy cartouche from Differents Compartiments d’Ornements (Paris, ca. 1736). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs 3.36 Plan, Wieskirche. After Walter Hege and Gustav Barthel, Barockkirchen in Altbayern und Schwaben (Berlin, 1941), p. 41 3.37 Wieskirche, detail of apse. Photo courtesy Michael Mertens 3.38 Wayside Chapel near Kempten, Bavaria, eighteenth century. Photo: Author 3.39 Johann Joachim Dietrich, High Altar, Abbey Church, Dießen, Bavaria, 1738. Photo: Peta Gillyatt Bailey 4 “Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste”: Spiritual Rococo in Portugal and Brazil 4.1 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Developement d’un Trumeau de glace pour un grand cabinet fait pour le Portugal, from Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1734). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-337. F.G. Waller-Fonds

4.4 André Soares, Frei Vilaça: Monastery church of St. Martin at Tibães, Braga, Portugal, 1757–1760. Woodwork by José Álvares de Araújo. Photo by Robert Chester Smith, courtesy Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon 4.5 Miguel Francisco da Silva, Capela-Mor, Santa Clara, Porto, 1730. Photo courtesy Studiolum 4.6 André Soares, façade, Church of Maria Madalena da Falperra, Braga, 1753–1755. Photo: Author 4.7 André Soares, detail of portal, Archiepiscopal Palace, Braga, 1750s. Photo: Author 4.8 Johann Bauer, rocailles, from Unterschiedene Hand-Haben mit Muscheln u. Schnirckeln welche auf vielerley Arth sehr nüzlich können gebraucht werden, engraved by Jacob Andreas Fridrich and printed by Johann Christian Leopold, Augsburg, eighteenth century. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung 4.9 André Soares, Frei Vilaça, José Álvares de Araújo, choir décor, Monastery church of St. Martin at Tibães, Braga, 1757–1760. Photo by Robert Chester Smith, courtesy Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon

4.2 Jean-Baptiste Robillon, garden grotto, or cascata (detail), Queluz Palace, Portugal, completed after 1758. Photo: Author

4.10 Alexis Peyrotte, cartouche from Second livre de cartouches chinois dédié à Madame de Fontanieu (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1762). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

4.3 Mateus Vicente de Oliveira and Silvestre de Faria Lobo, chapel, Queluz Palace, 1747–1752. Photo by Robert Chester Smith, courtesy Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon

4.11 Attributed to José Fernandes Pinto Alpoim, Nossa Senhora Mãe dos Homens, Rio de Janeiro, 1750–1789. Photo: Author

List of Illustrations

4.12 Santa Rita de Cássia, Rio de Janeiro, 1753–1759. Photo: Author 4.13 Detail of Tarja over chancel arch, Santa Rita de Cássia, Rio de Janeiro, 1753–1759. Photo: Author 4.14 Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, Rio de Janeiro, begun 1761, woodwork 1785–1795. Photo: Author 4.15 José de Oliveira Rosa, Virgin of Carmel, apse ceiling, Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, Rio de Janeiro, before 1781. Photo: Author 4.16 Lateral view of the nave, Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, Rio de Janeiro. Photo: Author 4.17 Etienne Charpentier, wall panel scheme from Divers Dessins de Menuiserie pour la décoration des Appartemens presentement à la mode, Paris, ca. 1730s. Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs 4.18 Antônio Fernandes de Matos, nave interior, Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares, Recife, Brazil, 1726–1771. Photo courtesy Pedro Henrique Cabral Valadares 4.19 José de Oliveira Barbosa, called Rabelo, or João de Deus Sepúlveda, The Virgin Immaculate, nave ceiling painting, Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares, Recife, ca. 1771–1781. Photo courtesy Pedro Henrique Cabral Valadares 4.20 Façade (detail), Carmo, Recife, Brazil, 1767. Photo: Author 4.21 Façade (detail), Deus Menino, São Felix, Brazil, ca. 1773. Photo: Author

xv

4.22 Manuel da Costa Ataíde, Apparition of Our Lady of Porciúncula, nave ceiling painting, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, Brazil, 1802. Vault constructed 1772–1774. Photo courtesy Percival Tirapeli (Baroque Churches of Brazil, Sao Paulo: Metalivros, 2008), photo by Jacob Gelwan 4.23 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Henrique Gomez de Brito, nave, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, 1766–1794. Photo courtesy Willian Dias, courtesy of the Legislative Assembly of Minas Gerais 4.24 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Henrique Gomez de Brito, detail of junction between nave and Capela-Mor, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, 1773–1794. Photo courtesy Willian Dias, courtesy of the Legislative Assembly of Minas Gerais 4.25 Francisco de Lima Cerqueira, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, Brazil, 1774–1803 (plan). After Germain Bazin, L’architecture religieuse baroque au Brésil (Sao Paulo, 1956): I, 193 4.26 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira, interior, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, 1774–1803. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa 4.27 Luís Pinheiro Lobo and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira (?), Capela-Mor, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, begun 1781, altarpiece begun 1790. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa 4.28 Antônio Francisco Lisboa, Domingos Moreira de Oliveira, and others, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, begun 1766. Photo courtesy Willian Dias, courtesy of the Legislative Assembly of Minas Gerais

xvi

The Spiritual Rococo

4.29 Antônio Francisco Lisboa, façade (detail), São Francisco in Ouro Preto, Brazil, begun 1766. Photo courtesy Danielle Sasaki 4.30 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira, façade, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, Brazil, 1785. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa 4.31 Franz Rigl, S. Maria virgo semper immaculata (engraving) published by Joseph Klauber, Augsburg, ca. 1750. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung 4.32 Gottfried Bernhard Goez, Prince Bishop Joseph, Landgrave of HesseDarmstadt (engraving) published by Johann Baptist and Johann Sebastian Klauber, Augsburg, ca. 1741–1760. London, British Museum 4.33 Manoel do Sacramento: The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, Third Order Carmelite church of the Carmo, Mogi das Cruzes, Brazil, 1802. Photo: Author 4.34 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design from series 49 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel, Augsburg, ca. 1750. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung 4.35 Johann Simon Negges, altarpiece design (engraving). Augsburg, ca. 1750. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung 5 “O Happy Vision!”: Spiritual Rococo in Spain and Spanish South America 5.1 Cristóbal Clemente, High Altar retablo, Compañía, Cuzco, Peru, 1670. Photo: Author

5.2 High altar retablo, La Enseñanza, Mexico City, 1762–1778. Photo: Author 5.3 Altar of Saint Anthony, Monastery of San José, Fuentes de Andalucía, Spain, ca. 1761. Photo: Author 5.4 Altar of the Virgin of Remedies, San Miguel, Marchena, Spain, 1780. Photo: Author 5.5 Chancel retablo, Cathedral, Cuzco, second half eighteenth century. Photo: Author 5.6 Anton Harls, Jesuit estancia church at Santa Catalina, Argentina, 1754–1760. Photo: Author 5.7 Johannes Bitterich, Aloysius Gonzaga, 1711. Martinskirche, Bamberg. Photo: Author 5.8 Franz Grueber, San Miguel, Santiago, 1748–1765. Drawing by Johann Moritz Rugendas, 1839. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung 5.9 Peter Vogl and others, Patio in the Calera de Tango, Chile, 1741–1748. Photo: Author 5.10 Georg Lanz, pulpit, La Merced, Santiago, after 1751. Photo courtesy Fernando Guzmán 5.11 Johann Kraus and others, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, 1712–1734. Photo: Author 5.12 Gerhard Letten or Conrad Kohl, Altar of Saint John Nepomuk, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, ca. 1750s–1760s. Photo: Author 5.13 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design from series 34 (engraving), published by Hertel, Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

List of Illustrations xvii

5.14 Gerhard Letten or Conrad Kohl, Altar of Our Lady of the Snows, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, ca. 1750s–1760s. Photo: Author 5.15 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design from series 49 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel, Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum 5.16 Isidro Lorea, High Altar, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, after 1761–1767. Photo: Author 5.17 Alexis Peyrotte, ornamental patterns from Divers ornemens dédiés à Monsieur Tanevot Architecte du Roi, Première partie (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1748). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs 5.18 Isidro Lorea, High Altar, Santa Catalina, Buenos Aires, Before 1770. Photo: Author 5.19 Isidro Lorea, pulpit, San Francisco, Buenos Aires, 1770–1783. Photo: Author 5.20 Isidro Lorea, High Altar Retablo, Cathedral, Buenos Aires, 1774–1784. Photo courtesy of the Cathedral of Buenos Aires 5.21 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Project for the Chapel of the Virgin at Saint-Sulpice, Paris, 1727, from Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1747–1748). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-345. F.G. Waller-Fonds 5.22 Detail of Figure 5.20. Photo courtesy of the Cathedral of Buenos Aires 5.23 José Domingo Mendizabal, Ignacio de Arregui, Miguel de Careaga, and others, High Altar (detail), El Pilar, Buenos Aires, 1730–ca. 1771. Photo: Author

5.24 Pedro Carmona, side altars, El Pilar, Buenos Aires, ca. 1771. Photo: Author 5.25 Pedro Carmona, side altar (detail), El Pilar, Buenos Aires, ca. 1771. Photo: Author 5.26 Stucco altarpiece, sacristy, Capilla Domestica, La Compañía, Córdoba, Argentina, before 1767. Destroyed. Photo: Author (taken in 2003) 5.27 Attributed to Jacob Kelner, Altar of Saint Ignatius, formerly in the church of San Miguel, now in San Juan Evangelista, Santiago, ca. 1748–1762. Photo: Author 5.28 Detail of Fig. 5.27. Photo: Author 5.29 Attributed to Jacob Kelner, former side altarpiece from the church of San Miguel, now in the Cathedral Museum, Santiago, ca. 1748–1767. Photo: Author 5.30 Altar of the Virgin Immaculate, by the Jesuit atelier at the Colegio Máximo. ca. 1748–1767. Polychrome and gilded wood, (originally from the oratory of the Larraín Rojas family of Santiago). Destroyed 2010. Photo courtesy Fernando Guzmán (taken in 2009) 5.31 Franz Xaver Habermann, model altarpiece from series 80 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel. Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum 5.32 Adam Engelhard, sacristy cabinets (detail) with central gilt silver monstrance by Johann Köhler, Cathedral, Santiago, 1753–1760. Photo courtesy Fernando Guzmán

xviii The Spiritual Rococo

5.33 Johann Köhler and Franz Pöllants, silver altar frontal “de los Jesuitas” (detail), Santiago, Cathedral, ca, 1758–1765. Photo: Author 5.34 Johann Köhler and Franz Pöllants, St. Francis Xavier, silver plaque, Santiago, Cathedral, ca. 1758–1765. Photo: Author 5.35 San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, Paraguay, completed 1755. Photo: Author 5.36 José de Sousa Cavadas and Guaraní sculptors, High Altar, San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, ca. 1752–1755. Photo: Author 5.37 Guaraní workshop, confessional (detail), San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, ca. 1752–1755. Photo: Author 5.38 Guaraní workshop, High Altar and chancel, Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, Capiatá, Paraguay, completed 1769. Photo: Author 5.39 Detail of 5.38. Photo: Author 5.40 Guaraní workshop, door pediment (detail), main courtyard, Reduction of San Ignacio Miní, Argentina, completed 1724. Photo: Author 5.41 Anton Miller, Miguel, and others, Santa María de Loreto, Achao, Chile, ca. 1725–ca. 1790 with later additions. Photo: Author 5.42 Interior of Santa María de Loreto, Achao, Chile. Photo: Author

5.43 Detail of Fig. 5.42. Photo: Author 5.44 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design 2 from series 300 (engraving), published by Hertel, Augsburg, ca. 1750. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung Epilogue: “Superfluous Stucco and Laughable Decoration”: Rococo, Religion, and the Global Enlightenment E.1 Konrad Hegenauer, pulpit, St. Petrus und Paulus, Friesenhofen, Allgäu, Bavaria, ca. 1780. Photo: Author E.2 Antonio dos Santos, The Virgin of Carmel Appearing to St. Simon Stock, ceiling painting, Third Order Carmelite Church, Mogi das Cruzes, Brazil, ca. 1814. Photo: Author E.3 Crossing and apse, St. Leonard, Brunnen, Switzerland, with ceiling painting of the Last Supper by Joseph Ignaz Weiss and stucco work by Peter Anton Moosbrugger, 1788. Photo: Author E.4 Left side altar, vestibule, Santa Ana, Santiago, Chile, ca. 1800. Photo: Author E.5 Salon d’honneur, Domaine de Sceaux, 1862. Photo: Author E.6 German workshop, High Altar, São Francisco (detail), Sao Paulo, Brazil, after 1880. Photo: Author E.7 Jeff Koons, Mirror: Christ and the Lamb, 1988. Groninger Museum, Groningen

Acknowledgments

The story told in this book is a journey and its writing involved many journeys. But more importantly it involved inspiring conversations with people along the way, from the Cercle de l’Union Interalliée in Paris to the Salón de Té Las Bandurrias in Castro, Chilean Patagonia. I would in particular like to thank Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa, Marc Fumaroli, Ricardo González, Ramón Gutiérrez, Fernando Guzmán, Pavel Kalina, Nigel Llewellyn, Myriam Ribeiro, and Nuno Vassallo e Silva for their discussions and insight, but also many other generous individuals, including those who assisted in more practical ways such as the archivists and librarians at religious and state institutions: Carolina Araya Monasterio, María Celina Audisio (AAC), Estela Auletta, Paul-Bertrand Barets, Jens Baumgarten, Alfredo Benavides Bedoyo, Marie-Louise Bontemps, Vilma Brondo (AEAG), Frank Büttner, Fanny Cannesa (BFS), Macarena Carroza, María Angélica Cáceres, René Cortínez Castro, Marco Dahl (Bavarian International School), Claudio Díaz Vial, Padre Oscar Dominguez, Charlotte Castelnau-L’Estoile, Carlos Alberto Contieri, Susana Fabrici, Ángel Fanesi (BMBA), Teresa Duarte Ferreira (BNP); Gabriel Frade, Alicia Fraschina, Alfredo Furlani (ACMC), Christopher Gane, Br. Francisco García (BFS), Helmut Gier (SSA); Chantal Gilles (ANF), Gabriel Guarda, María Verónica Gubler, †Brigitte Gullath (BSB), †Walter Hanisch Espíndola, Laure Haberschill (MAD); Beverly Heisner, Mauro Herlitzka, Christiane Hille, Christian Hogrefe (HAB), Manfred Hörner (BHA), Melissa Hyde, Tereza Janoušková (UPM), Mathilde Isler, Juliette Jestaz (ENSBA), Fr. Guillermo Juárez (OPBA), Monika Kiegler-Griensteidl (ÖNB), Gerda Koller (ÖNB), Nelson Kon, Lubomír Konečný, David Kowal, Urte Krass, Blanka Kubíková (NGP), María Eugenia Lezana (ACMC), Karen Lloyd, Constanza López Lamerain, Eleanor Laughlin, Keith Luria, Julia Mackenzie, Martin Mádl, Juan Manuel Martínez, Renata Martins, †Murilo de Azevedo Marx, Sylvain Menant, Rodrigo Moreno, Christoph Nicht (GSA); Maria Beatriz de Mello e Souza, Luciano Migliaccio, John W. O’Malley, Yann Onfroy (MAD), Júlia Paccanaro Rosa, Judite Paixão (ATC), Vanesa Pedreira (Catedral de Buenos Aires), Ulrich Pfisterer, Rosana Pinheiro (APEP), Margarida Isabel da Silva Pinto (BNP), Carmen Pizarro, Kathrin Pokorny-Nagel (MAK), Hermann

xx

The Spiritual Rococo

Rabus (SSA), Giuseppina Raggi, Achim Riether (SGSM), Héctor Daniel Rios (AAC), Patricia Russo (BFBA), Alice Sailer, Myriam Salomão, Margarita Seifert (OPBA), Florian Sepp (BSB); Mary Sheriff; Pavel Štĕpánek, Kristel Smentek, Darko Sustersic, Erika Swedberg (Bavarian International School), Percival Tirapeli, Pedro Tortima (IHGB), Dominique Van De Casteele (ENSBA), Ines Županov, and the gracious staff at the Schulheim Hitzenlinde (Friesenhofen). I am also indebted to the anonymous reader and to my editors at Ashgate, Erika Gaffney and Kathy Bond Borie, for insightful suggestions for revisions that have made this a better book. I have also benefited as always from the insight of my seminar students, both at the University of Aberdeen (Michelle Foot, Jayne Ford, Lauren Henning, Johanna Raine, Pamela Sargent, Amy O’Sullivan, and Aaron Thom) and at Queen’s University (Lisa Binkley, Jillian Lanthier, Melissa La Porte, Casey Lee, Chantal Manna, Heather Merla, and Rosalie Nardelli). I profited in particular from discussions at the Wallace Collection with Aaron Thom and my colleagues at the University of Aberdeen John Gash and Tom Nichols, and I am especially grateful also to my PhD advisee Jillian Lanthier for all of her hard work preparing the index for this book. This book was made possible by fellowships from the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation, the Arts and Humanities Research Council (UK), the Carnegie Foundation for the Universities of Scotland, The British Academy, and the American Philosophical Society. I am also grateful to the University of Aberdeen for allowing me a year’s leave in 2010–2011 to begin research for this book and for their generous travel stipend. I am particularly indebted to the Alfred and Isabel Bader research fund at Queen’s University for research travel undertaken during the completion of this book and for providing subvention funds for publication.

Museums, Archives, and Libraries Consulted AAC ACC ACL ACMC ACMRJ ADC AEAG AFC AGHUC AGN ANC ANOM ANF APEP

Archivo del Arzobispado de Córdoba (Argentina) Archivo de las Catalinas, Córdoba Academia das Ciências de Lisboa, Lisbon Archivo del Convento de la la Merced, Córdoba Arquivo da Cúria Metropolitana do Rio de Janeiro Archivo de los Dominicos de Córdoba Archivo de la Estancia de Alta Gracia (Argentina) Archivo Franciscano de Córdoba Archivo General e Histórico, Universidad de Córdoba Archivo General de la Nación, Buenos Aires Archivo Nacional de Chile, Santiago Archives Nationales d’Outre-Mer, Aix-en-Provence Archives Nationales de France, Paris Arquivo Público do Estado do Pará, Belém (Brazil)

Acknowledgments

ARSI ATC BFBA BFS BFSB BHA BMBA BNC BNF BNP BNRA BNRJ BRD BSB BZH CLS DASP DBF ENSBA FCUC GSA HAB IHGB KSB MAD MAK MNAA NGP NKCR ÖNB OPBA SBH SGSM SGST SSA UCBG UPM

xxi

Archivum Romanum Societatis Iesu, Rome Arquivo do Tribunal das Contas, Lisbon Biblioteca Franciscana (and archives), Buenos Aires Biblioteca Franciscana, Santiago Biblioteca da Faculdade de São Bento, São Paulo Bayerisches Hauptstaatsarchiv, Munich Biblioteca Mercedaria, Buenos Aires Biblioteca Nacional de Chile, Santiago Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Paris Biblioteca Nacional de Portugal, Lisbon Biblioteca Nacional de la República Argentina, Buenos Aires Biblioteca Nacional, Rio de Janeiro Biblioteca de la Recoleta Domínica, Santiago Bayrische Staatsbibliothek, Munich Bibliothek des Zisterzienserstifts Heiligenkreuz (Austria) Cathedral Library, Santiago Diözesanarchiv Sankt-Pölten (Austria) Dombibliothek Freising (Germany) École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Paris Fondo Monseñor Pablo Cabrera, Universidad de Córdoba Graphische Sammlung Augsburg Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolffenbüttel (Germany) Instituto Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro, Rio de Janeiro Kremsmünster Stiftsbibliothek (Austria) Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Paris Museum für angewandte Kunste, Vienna Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga, Lisbon Národní Galerie v Praze (National Gallery, Prague) Národní knihovna České republiky (National Library, Prague) Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Vienna Orden de Predicadores de Buenos Aires, Archives & Library Stiftsbibliothek, Herzogenburg (Austria) Staatliche Graphische Sammlung, Munich Stiftsbibliothek, Sankt Gallen (Switzerland) Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg Universidade de Coimbra Biblioteca Geral Umĕleckoprůmyslové museum (Museum of Decorative Arts), Prague

Except when noted otherwise, all translations from French, German, Spanish, Portuguese, or Latin in the text are the author’s own.

Introduction

The moralistic (if not pious) conspiracy to which the Rococo fell victim under Louis XV, and of which the effects are still felt today in France, should not make us forget that the Rococo and the kind of spirit and life that it implies were seen, in Europe and in the world during its time and afterward, as the French style par excellence, the first modern “lay” style, the first to have been conceived exclusively for comfort, agreeability, amusement, enchantment, and the profane delectation of the senses and spirits of lay people in their private life of leisure.1

Unlike the Romanesque, Gothic, or Modernism—the other great French-born styles in art and architecture—the Rococo suffers perpetually from a bad reputation. It is partly Rococo’s fault: by nature freeform and lighthearted, lacking either the divine certainties of the Baroque or the ethical imperative of Neoclassicism, it has no written manifesto and intentionally stymies attempts to make sense of it. Its lack of academic rigor doomed it to critical assault within decades of its creation, in the last year of the seventeenth century, with the result that we tend to overlook its importance as one of the eighteenth century’s great styles, marginalizing it as a transitional aberration born in the financial ruin of the last years of Louis XIV (reigned 1643–1715), nurtured during the instability of the Regency (1715–1723) and blossoming in the early part of the reign of Louis XV (1723–1774), a monarch still seen by those brought up on Nancy Mitford as an epitome of ancien-régime decadence. But there is much more to Rococo than meets the eye and its ramifications went far beyond France and its supposed demise in the 1750s. In fact if we refuse to give Rococo its due we cannot fully understand eighteenth-century culture in Western Europe and its far-flung colonies. One critical aspect of Rococo’s hold on the world, its unexpected but profound and long-lasting association with religion, is the subject of this book, which will take us on a 12,500-kilometer journey as we follow Rococo art and spirituality from the glittering salons of High Society Paris, via the enlightened courts and abbeys of Central Europe and Portugal, the clandestine meeting places of independence-fighters in gold-rich Brazil, and the bustling ateliers of homesick immigrant architects in Buenos Aires and Santiago, onward to the Catholic missions in Paraguay and finally Chilean Patagonia, the southernmost outpost of European culture in the pre-Modern world.

2

The Spiritual Rococo

Focusing on décor, I will address three basic conundrums that impede our understanding of eighteenth-century aesthetics and spirituality. Why did the Rococo, ostensibly the least spiritual style of the pre-Modern Western canon, one which developed on a small scale and in the private aristocratic Parisian home, transform into one of the world’s most important modes of adorning large, sacred, public spaces? How could such a consequential role be played by a style widely considered to be frivolous, the product of an era in which the idle rich sought pleasure and oblivion in a make-believe world of parties and picnics?2 And why is Rococo still treated as the nemesis of the Enlightenment when the two had such fundamental characteristics in common: an enthusiasm for freedom and individualism, a fascination with the natural world and with bodily and metaphysical health, an historical self-awareness, and a preoccupation with sociability, decorum, and the pursuit of happiness? I am not the first to ask these questions, nor will I be the last to try to answer them. But by treating Rococo as a global phenomenon and exploring its moral and spiritual dimensions through the lens of the religious literature of the time I hope at least to move the discussion in the right direction. Most people still find Rococo hard to take seriously despite all the evidence that there is more to it than meets the eye. Like Enlightenment critics CharlesNicolas Cochin (1715–1790) and Denis Diderot (1713–1784), few consider Rococo ornament or even much of its figural art capable of more than a shallow virtuosity in spite of recent scholarly pleas to the contrary.3 This disparagement of the dominant artistic style in much of Europe between about 1699 and the 1770s and in wide swaths of Latin America from the 1740s to the 1810s is not merely a matter of perceived decadence: it has as much to do with Rococo’s origins in the “decorative arts”—the first for a European period style—and its separateness from the Academy with its privileging of grand genre painting, sculpture, and architecture. Typical is Wylie Sypher’s comment about Rococo in 1960: “[i]t is not one of the major styles and appears … as a fugitive manifestation in decorative arts.”4 As this remark suggests, Rococo has also suffered because “decorative arts”—the term itself is belittling—are still often overlooked by a scholarly community who consider such things to be the purview of museums and art dealers and not the university, to be viewed through the lens of connoisseurship rather than theory: as Roberto Calasso remarks, “in the jargon of the West ‘ornamental’ is a way of saying innocuous.”5 As noted in the quotation at the head of this chapter Rococo also suffers from an ironically and persistently negative reception in its place of origin: this quintessentially French creation has garnered more enthusiasm from outside France than from French scholars, who tend to highlight the academic styles of the second half of the century such as the neo-Greek goût à la grecque and Neoclassicism over one associated with debauchery of the ancien régime.6 France has yet to organize a Rococo exhibition comparable to L’antiquité rêvée, the giant celebration of Neoclassicism that opened at the Louvre in 2010.

Introduction

3

Rococo décor in particular remains sorely under-appreciated. Whereas the major painters and sculptors of the period are well represented in the literature—from Jean-Antoine Watteau (1684–1721) and Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1732–1806) to Dominikus Zimmermann (1685–1766) and Ignaz Günther (1725–1775)—only four ornemenistes boast monographs: Jacques Lajoüe (1984), Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier (1999), Franz Xaver Habermann (1977), and François de Cuvilliés (1938, 1967, 1986), the last treated more as an architect than designer.7 Another major obstacle is that there is no comprehensive illustrated inventory of Rococo ornamental prints, a potentially impossible task given that they number in the thousands and are spread out over multiple collections, none of them complete.8 The movement’s most prolific designers, such as Pierre-Edmé Babel (d. 1770), the Bernini of the cartouche (Figs. 2.17, 3.35), or Alexis Peyrotte (1699–1769), who specialized in gossamer compositions of feathers, fins, and birds (Fig. 4.10), remain little more than art-historical footnotes. As Marianne Roland Michel notes such an inventory would also be hindered by problems of authorship: Rococo decorative engravings were republished by multiple printers, are almost never dated or titled, and provide few details about the creator, engraver, or publisher.9 Because Rococo did not fit into the masculine world of the arts academy— specifically the Académie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture, founded in Paris in 1648—it has also been dismissed as the business of women.10 The cliché about Rococo’s femininity clings like a limpet to the literature: Philippe Minguet holds that Rococo is inherently “feminine” because of its relationship to fashion, eroticism, and domesticity, as well as its preference for curves and pastel colors; Penelope Hunter Stiebel believes that its “softened forms” make Rococo décor “passive, resilient, female” in contrast to architecture, which is “aggressive, male;” and Mario Praz goes so far as to compare Rococo’s central motif—the shell—to female genitalia.11 In a similar vein Robert Smith lauds the bulky wooden décor in the Portuguese church of São Martinho in Tibães (1757–1760; Figs. 4.4, 4.9) precisely because its departure from this female delicacy makes it “perhaps the most masculine expression of the Rococo ever produced in Europe.”12 Frivolity and women also popularly go handin-hand in discussions of Rococo: most recently the style takes center stage in Sabine Melchior-Bonnet’s playful Une histoire de la frivolité (2013), which traces notions of triviality and femininity from Roman antiquity to Brigitte Bardot.13 This trope goes back to Rococo’s early association with Madame de Pompadour (1721–1764) and to the style’s first critics, such as Étienne La Font de Saint-Yenne (1746)—he blamed “the Ladies” for allowing the arts “to descend to the level of trifles and trinkets” and accused François Boucher of using the colors of women’s cosmetics, “almost all rose- and violet-coloured”— or Diderot, who similarly mocked Rococo’s boudoir colors and the heavily rouged buttocks of the painter’s nudes.14 This tradition of denigrating certain art forms as feminine goes back at least to the Renaissance: it was employed by Agnolo Firenzuola (1493–1545) and Giorgio Vasari (1511–1574) to dismiss

4

The Spiritual Rococo

the Venetian and Northern European use of color as lacking substance.15 In the eighteenth century French critics described actual women using the same terms they employed for Rococo art. In his article “Femme, (Morale)” in Diderot’s and Jean Le Rond d’Alembert’s Encyclopédie the playwright Le Sieur de Desmahis (1723–1761) describes women as would an art connoisseur, referring to “the roundness of forms, the finesse of their lines, the brightness of their colors,” and he associates finesse with falsehood and delicacy with inattentiveness.16 As a consequence Rococo’s male protagonists were disparaged as being effeminate or gay: the Abbé Marc-Antoine Laugier (1771) referred to male enthusiasts of Rococo as “little women,” (femmelettes) and the French anti-Rococo camp blamed the style and homosexuality alike on Italy.17 Marc Fumaroli has recently attributed the near obsession with “the man as hero” in the Neoclassical movement to a backlash against a style so associated with the world of women.18 Other scholars have questioned the supposed femininity of Rococo. Beverly Heisner asks whether “if we are to assume that when women are in positions of power and patronage art takes on a ‘feminine look’ then why has no one suggested that Elizabethan art has such a ‘look’, or that the series of paintings Peter Paul Rubens did for Marie de’ Medici has this special ‘look’?”19 Another antidote to the Rococo-as-feminine theory is the fact that women played a critical role in the prototypically masculine Enlightenment, Rococo’s unexpected bedfellow. As keepers of salons, intellectuals in their own right, and patrons of the male Lumières, women made essential contributions to the new philosophical movement even though they are still largely left out of surveys of eighteenth-century intellectualism.20 Meredith Martin even notes women’s impact on the aesthetics of the “virile” classical revival movements of the later eighteenth century, pointing out that art and architectural treatises like Jacques-François Blondel’s L’homme du monde éclairé par les arts (1774) were directed primarily at a female audience.21 Yet, as I will explore in Chapters 1 and 2, the problem with simply dismissing the femininity cliché is that at least in the domestic sphere in which it originated in France Rococo was profoundly influenced, even dominated, by women, both as patrons and tastemakers. Instead of abandoning the idea of Rococo’s femininity we should rearticulate it by acknowledging women as active players in the Rococo movement and not merely as passive, decorative appendages to its scrolls and soft colors. I will return to this theme in Chapter 2. Scholars are also challenging Rococo’s perceived role as the antithesis of the Enlightenment, particularly in the work of Watteau. Pierre Francastel was among the first to question the supposed triviality of Rococo painting, observing in Watteau the same “mental emancipation,” direct engagement with nature, and inventiveness that fuelled the speculations of Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778) and Voltaire (1694–1778), and he pointed out that Rococo—and the work of Watteau in particular—was favored by Enlightenment figures as significant as Frederick the Great of Prussia, the patron of the jewel-like Rococo retreat at Sanssouci (1745–1747) in Potsdam.22 Michael Levey added

Introduction

5

that Watteau was committed to such Enlightenment concerns as “the nature of sensations, the oscillations of the human heart, the goal of happiness, and, above all … the power of love.”23 More recently Fumaroli notes that Rococo reflected an “‘enlightened’ power, which itself knows how to smile, to relax, to stand back, negotiate, and give its subjects a margin of independence, an autonomy of movement, and a liberty of spirit,” and Christiane Hertel argues that the preoccupation with nature and freedom in Central European Rococo overlapped with the ideals of eighteenth-century German philosophers: in particular, that both were markedly self-reflective.24 Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury have even extended the conversation to include the work of the Enlightenment’s bête noir, Boucher, noting that Rousseau patronized the artist and that “surely there is a Rousseauian strain to Boucher’s landscapes … such a reading presents a challenge to the received ideas about Boucher as a symbol of the corruption and oversocialization that Rousseau seemed to be striving against.”25 In a similar vein Carol Duncan and Andrei Molotiu have suggested that Rousseau’s ideal of emotional, domestic love as promulgated in his 1761 novel Julie, ou la Nouvelle Héloïse (as opposed to the gallant or libertine loves practiced by the aristocracy) motivates some of the paintings of Fragonard— best known for executing some of the most erotic paintings of his day—and Mary Sheriff and Emma Barker have proposed that Fragonard juxtaposed this eroticism with Rousseau’s romantic love specifically to challenge our expectations about love and sexuality.26 Another stubborn commonplace in the literature is that Rococo is antireligious. Most would consider “Spiritual Rococo” to be a contradiction in terms, yet while Rococo was the style of the laity, as Fumaroli reminds us, it was not the style of atheism. We must grasp this essential difference if we are to understand why Rococo became a major global religious style. French protagonists of salon culture and relaxed sensuality attended Mass, participated in daily acts of personal devotion, listened to sermons, wrote and read sacred literature, went on religious retreats, and invited priests to their gatherings. Even the Enlightenment was not as anti-religious as is popularly believed.27 The Radical Enlightenment of Diderot and Paul-Henri-Dietrich Baron d’Holbach (1723–1789) denied the existence of God, but the majority of Lumières, including Voltaire and Rousseau, merely attacked organized religion and the institution of the Church, some envisioning a deist supreme God knowable through rational deduction. More significantly, a flourishing movement by Enlightenment writers I call the “Christianity of Reason”—it included scientists, philosophers, and progressive clerics in France, German lands, and Portugal among other places—published volumes of treatises and sermons reconciling faith, rationalism, and even Revolution, which I will consider at length in Chapter 1. Throughout Catholic Europe religion remained central to intellectual life: as Tim Blanning notes, “the eighteenth century has as good a claim to be dubbed ‘the age of religion’ as ‘the age of reason.’”28 The eighteenth century did not witness a mass exodus from churches until (in France only) the 1789 Revolution. In fact religion—notably popular

6

The Spiritual Rococo

devotions—underwent a renaissance throughout Catholic Europe, with the rise of the cults of the Sacred Heart and Immaculate Heart of Mary, a proliferation of new pilgrimages, a renewed enthusiasm for exterior manifestations of faith such as Corpus Christi processions and festivals mounted by confraternities (lay religious organizations), and a belief in an increasing number of presentday miracles. The most notorious of the latter was the cult of “Saint” François de Pâris, centered at the church of St-Médard in Paris between 1727 and the 1760s. The source of miraculous cures—it inspired legions of mostly female “convulsionnaires” (convulsionists) to speak in tongues, bare their breasts, throw themselves to the ground and engage in mutual torture sessions— the devotion was one of the most dramatic episodes of popular religious outpouring and public unrest of the decades leading up to the Revolution.29 Outside of France the era also witnessed one of history’s greatest spates of church building, notably in Central Europe, Portugal, and Latin America as we will see in later chapters in this book.30 Yet scholars of Rococo still leave religion out of the equation. Charissa Bremer-David’s opening chapter to a 2011 exhibition catalogue meant to contextualize Rococo decorative arts with the way people passed the hours of the day never mentioned the myriad religious activities that punctuated those very hours: the reading of spiritual literature, recitations of neuvaines (novenas), confession, attendance at Mass, processions of priests in the streets performing the Last Rites and, most significantly given the subject of the exhibition, the hours of the breviary and the angelus bell, which rang every day at six in the morning, noon, and six in the evening.31 The result is that scholars do not know what to make of Rococo religious art, whether sacred figural painting or church interiors. Some, like JeanPierre Cuzin, dismiss them outright: remarking that Fragonard’s Adoration of the Shepherds (ca. 1776) was remarkable precisely because it was “one of the few eighteenth-century religious paintings of any real profundity.”32 Writing about Rococo church interiors in Bavaria Robert Harbison questions their sincerity, rejecting figures of saints on church ceilings as mere “loungers and dawdlers, common types on ordinary errands,” and although he explores several ways in which Rococo décor interacts with popular devotions Karsten Harries sees the growing independence of Rococo ornament from image and structure as heralding the beginnings of “the death of an essentially sacred architecture” in what he calls the “aestheticization of the sacred.”33 Looking at Rococo more generally, Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer go as far as to declare that the style was “no longer Christian.”34 But none reckoned with a new, post-Baroque spirituality that discarded the sober asceticism of the past and embraced the liveliness, worldliness, and privileging of happiness—but also the subversiveness, irony, and sense of liberty—of the new era. A few are tentatively exploring Rococo’s spiritual potential despite Martin Scheider’s lament that “[i]t seems perhaps that no one has yet found a way to speak in the same breath of … French Rococo art in general … and of the sacred.”35 William Park acknowledges that “rococo, which is usually thought of as a secular style, could be just as effective in expressing deep religious devotion,” and for some time scholars have recognized a kind of

Introduction

7

para-religious sentiment in the style.36 Sypher sees it as pseudo-Pantheistic: “Rococo begins as decoration of an abstract system by naturalistic details; but it leads, with its delicate spray and leafage, to a sense of ‘natural piety.’”37 In a similar vein Fumaroli has remarked that Rococo devotes an almost spiritual energy to worldly things, especially a celebration of Creation that resonates with Christianity.38 Sedlmayr recognizes a kind of spirituality in Rococo’s celebration of love: “[v]iewed within the context of intellectual history, this cult of earthly love is the secular counterpart to the devotion of ‘noble hearts’ in Protestant pietism and to the cult of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary in Roman Catholicism ….”39 These characteristics that scholars note only for their affinities with Christian beliefs are precisely what make the style function specifically as a Christian style. It is instructive to remember that Rococo décor is not the only ornamental style to take on a religious meaning: if we look to the Islamic world, where non-figural decoration has been accepted since the seventh century as the only means for adorning sacred spaces, the concept of a spiritual Rococo becomes less difficult to acknowledge. Faced with a prohibition of human imagery in mosques and shrines, Islamic decorators developed sophisticated semi-abstract patterns—whether based on plant forms (islīmī), or geometry (girih)—which communicated a sense of divine order and, in the vegetal version, “life forces” related to the natural world, as scholars in the mid-1990s began to explore.40 Given its composition from nature imagery (plants, rocks, shells) and non-representational scrolls and filigrees is Rococo so very different? The most compelling evidence for a link between Rococo and theology is found in the religious literature of the time, which I call the “Spiritual Rococo” and the “Christianity of Reason” and which forms the subject of Chapter 1. Beginning in the 1730s but going back to published sermons, conduct books, and devotional writings well into the seventeenth century, a motley but prolific series of mostly French spiritual treatises reconciled the mundane world of polite society with devotion and love of God and co-opted Enlightenment rationality and method.41 The Spiritual Rococo was not a reactionary movement but a subtle rebellion, all the more successful because it was dressed in the language of the leisured classes and “came playfully on little velvet paws,” as Sedlmayr and Bauer famously remarked about the Rococo itself.42 It embraced the antiestablishment stance of the Lumières—particularly through its challenge to the severity of the Church—yet it opposed the philosophers’ stoicism with what Philippe Malgouyres calls “consolations,” an epicurean emphasis on tenderness, comfort, sentiment, and the quotidian, which is “the point of the spear of a Christian apologetic against the philosophers.”43 Through its championing of society the Spiritual Rococo also became increasingly a theology of the laity: idiosyncratic, non-institutional, and worldly.44 In what is perhaps the most classic text on eighteenth-century art, Levey’s Rococo to Revolution (1966), Rococo is swept aside to make way for the individualism and natural speculation that would inspire revolution. In this book I will argue that Rococo is part of that revolution.

8

The Spiritual Rococo

Although a detailed visual analysis will follow in chapter two, it is important here to be clear about what I mean by Rococo style (in the arts, not literature) particularly since many things are called Rococo that are not. My task is not made easier by the term itself. A combination of the French rocaille (rockwork) with coquillage (shellwork), both derived from Italian gardens—or of rocaille with barocco, again of ultramontane origin—it was not used as a stylistic label in its day and acquired a pejorative meaning in retrospect. It is also not helpful that unlike Neoclassicism Rococo had no written philosophy, no clear theoretical or ideological explanation of its nature, or that the subjects even of Rococo figural painting often lack any literary foundation but are instead what Mary Sheriff calls “artist-created.”45 In fact most interpretations of Rococo were made by its critics and we are left piecing together its meaning from the art and décor itself.46 Nevertheless, like most art historical labels “Rococo” has become firmly entrenched in the literature and it would be confusing and ultimately counterproductive to dismiss it or introduce a neologism. I also defend the use of “Rococo” as a period style, as I will argue throughout this book, since the visual arts in this period were closely tied to the way people behaved and had significant commonalities particularly with the art of conversation—arguably the era’s most defining feature—and by extension literature, including the spiritual literature under investigation here. Rococo décor is based specifically on rocailles, shellwork, C-shaped scrolls, asymmetry, and other unique features, and it originated in France even though many of its first protagonists were not French and Rococo soon became an international style with many of its greatest triumphs beyond French borders.47 This means that I do not accept late Baroque Italianate motifs such as acanthus scrolls and garlands that are often confused with Rococo (they sometimes fall under the rubric of “barocchetto,” or “little baroque”), nor the various indigenous Iberian Baroques (notably the profuse and angular mid-eighteenth century Spanish style known as “Estípite-barroco”), unless they are fused with Rococo motifs and forms of French origin. Sedlmayr and Bauer refer to such alternate late Baroques as Sonderformen or regional forms “analogous” to the Rococo, which strikes me as a very apt term.48 Peter Fuhring recently compiled an exhaustive list of the first uses of the term “rocaille,” charting its development from a name for a crafts technique to a period style. The earliest mention, in a 1672 letter by Jean-Baptiste Colbert, describes “rocailles et coquilles” at the grottoes at Versailles and a 1691 classification defines rocaille as “the composition of rustic architecture which imitates natural rock forms,” a technical use of the term—the craftsmen were called rocailleurs—that persisted well into the nineteenth century.49 Coquillage derives from the mania for collecting shells, a practice inspired by the Dutch, who arranged them into embroidery-like patterns in drawers, other flat surfaces, or cabinets, combining a pseudo-scientific interest in naturalia with aesthetics.50 Günther Irmscher has recently noted that the asymmetrical, attenuated, and spiny-edged quality of Rococo ornament derived from specific tropical shells such as the murex and chicoreus.51 The Paris dealer

Introduction

9

Edmé-François Gersaint, immortalized in Watteau’s painting of 1721, held regular sales of shell collections along with his works of art, and he and others published treatises on shells with illustrations such as his Catalogue raisonné de coquilles et autres curiosités naturelles (Paris, 1736) with a suitably aquatic frontispiece by Boucher.52 Gersaint describes shells like works of art, as objects which dazzle the eye and encourage viewers to look back and forth rather than concentrating on any one object in a prototypically Rococo manner known as papillotage after the fluttering of the eyelid (the name derives from the word for butterfly, papillon): “nothing is more seductive than the view of a drawer of well-enameled shells: the most florid parterre is not more agreeable, and the eye is struck so marvelously that one has a hard time focusing; the difficulty is to know which one should admire the most, whether the perfection of workmanship of this one or the vivacity of colors of that one; of the marvelous symmetry of this other or the harmonious irregularity of the latter ….”53 Gersaint makes explicit that Rococo’s trademark asymmetry derives directly from the appreciation of shells; indeed his paradoxical term “harmonious irregularity” (irrégularité harmonieuse) perfectly encapsulates Rococo’s aesthetic. Gersaint directly exhorts artists to use shells as models for their work: “shells easily assimilate into sculpture and group themselves so harmoniously: their appearance can inspire new formal ideas as much for architects as for sculptors, and even for painters.”54 In fact the very spaces used to display shell collections, most famously the curiosity cabinets of Joseph Bonnier de la Mosson (1702–1744), fused science and décor by incorporating shells, seaweed, snakes, and other natural features directly into the ornamental vocabulary of the cabinet frames.55 By 1730 “rocaille” was used to describe a picture frame by Meissonnier and soon became a common label for engraved motifs in the new style in folios or ornament books—such as the Premier livre de forme rocquaille et cartel (1736) by Jean Mondon and Pierre Aveline—a usage that lasted until the last quarter of the eighteenth century.56 In 1772 Blondel hinted at the use of the term as a period style when he compared it to the Neoclassicism of his own era (le goût Grec & Romain): “[f]or many years it seemed that our century was one of Rocailles; today, without much knowing the reason, it is otherwise,” and in 1796–1797 Maurice Quaï started associating the term with the reign of Louis XV.57 At the end of the century “rocaille” became synonymous with poor taste—Nicolas Le Camus de Mézières (1721–1789) referred to something in 1780 as “a miserable cartouche, twisted & emphatically rocaille,” and the French were already using the term rococo in 1828 when it was dismissed as “mauvais goût” and blamed on the excesses of Gianlorenzo Bernini.58 Many have also disagreed about Rococo’s time frame. In France it is often considered to be the style of Louis XV while the style Louis XIV is defined as the art of the Baroque or Grand Siècle and the style Louis XVI refers to the goût à la grecque and Neoclassicism.59 But as Fiske Kimball, Bruno Pons, and others have shown Rococo originated well before the death of Louis XIV—in fact they usually derive it from Pierre Lepautre’s work at Versailles and Marly in 1699.60

10

The Spiritual Rococo

Until quite recently Rococo décor has only elicited sporadic scholarly interest, primarily through general surveys of Rococo arts across the media or in monographs on individual ornemenistes, which by their very nature tend not to consider in great depth the wider implications of style or meaning, or Rococo’s place in society. The surveys also tend toward repetitiveness as authors turn to what becomes very quickly a canonical set of objects and monuments. The first wave of scholarly interest in Rococo décor arose in the midst of the Second World War with Albert Erich Brinckmann’s Die Kunst des Rokoko (Berlin, 1940), a multimedia survey that was part of a series on the art of the world by Propylän-Verlag, and Kimball’s The Creation of the Rococo (Philadelphia, 1943), the first to focus exclusively on décor and still the most comprehensive work on the birth and development of French Rococo in its early phase.61 Extensively researched and methodical with generous use of original texts Kimball’s work has not been surpassed as a work of connoisseurship yet it offers little analysis or synthesis of the material and can make for ponderous reading. The most productive decade was the 1960s, an era when Rococo Revival was not coincidentally all the rage in interior decoration (see Epilogue). Hermann Bauer’s Rocaille (1962) is a pioneering theoretical study of Rococo as the spirit of an age that not only traces stylistic developments more clearly than did Kimball, but also for the first time tries to penetrate Rococo’s deeper meaning. Focusing on Bavaria Bauer finds Rococo’s essence in the rocaille cartouche, a single “critical form” and a zone of transformation between reality and illusion, ornament and narrative. It is hard to exaggerate the impact this concept had on later scholarship, notably the work of Ernst Mundt, William Park, Alistair Laing, and more recently Michael Yonan, since as an analytical tool it allowed scholars to explore precisely how Rococo operates in a religious setting and, on a more general level, it revealed the mechanics of Rococo’s self-conscious ambiguity.62 By contrast it has made little impression on studies of French Rococo, since rocailles in France were generally more reticent and more subject to overall decorative schemes. Three major works on Rococo appeared in 1966 alone. Minguet’s Esthétique du rococo concentrated on décor’s relationship with architecture and literature and, like Bauer, on the impact of French Rococo on Germany. Bauer’s and Sedlmayr’s entry on “Rococo” in the Encyclopedia of World Art is still one of the most exhaustive surveys (it came out in book form in 1991), but it treats décor only as part of a larger picture that includes everything from architecture to porcelains.63 Levey’s Rococo to Revolution focused on figural painting, notably that of Venice, and only half of it is about the Rococo. Minguet identified Rococo traits common across the media, such as the notion of “petitesse” (miniaturization), femininity, grace, and refuge, and he began to explore the relationship between Rococo and religion, looking for instance at Augsburg prints of ecclesiastical furnishings and the Wieskirche.64 Minguet and Levey had opposite opinions about Italy’s role in the Rococo: Minguet argued that Rococo is not an extension of Italian Baroque, noting it has less to do with public architecture, which is Italianate and Classical, than with interior

Introduction

11

décor (“architecture privée”), while Levey, focusing on Italian contributions such as the Venetian influence on Rococo ceiling painting in Central Europe, maintained that Rococo precisely derives from Italian Baroque and can be traced even further back to the “melting mood” and “saucy” character of Antonio da Correggio (1489–1534).65 During this period many studies treated Rococo as a blanket designation for the visual, literary, and performing arts, including three edited volumes (1958, 1960, 1962), the second of which spoke of a “spirit of the century” (we might call it a “long Rococo”) that extended well beyond the style’s traditional chronological boundaries; Sypher’s Rococo to Cubism (1960), in which he associated Rococo with the era’s scientific discoveries; and Jean Starbobinski’s L’invention de la liberté 1700–1789 (Geneva, 1964), which explored the style’s inherent freedom.66 In fact so many works were now treating Rococo as a multimedia period style that in 1962 Francastel lamented that no one was paying attention any more to the visual arts.67 Nevertheless several exhibitions and catalogues of collections during the 1960s and early 1970s—all outside France—attested to a growing interest in Rococo décor, even if they were primarily descriptive and plagued by confusions over authorship.68 In 1969 Dorothea Nyberg, in a catalogue on Meissonnier, tried to piece together an ideological foundation for Rococo and to consider its relationship to the style wars of the eighteenth century.69 She saw the designer as a “maverick” and Rococo as a style of liberty and creativity—she even compares it to Action Painting—its “lawlessness” relating in part to an alternative classicism, not the stoic and virile form espoused by Neoclassicism but one that celebrates the sublime and a pleasurable Arcadia that “captivates and enraptures.”70 Although focusing on figural sculpture and on Southern Germany, Veit Loers’s dense 1976 Rokokoplastik also tried to reconstruct a Rococo aesthetic by considering its relationship with the Bavarian court and church, like Bauer treating Rococo as a self-absorbed and reflective style that wavered between illusion and reality and denied the viewer access to straightforward pictorial illusion and historical distance.71 In the 1980s and 1990s scholars rescued the most important Rococo ornemenistes from oblivion and refined our understanding of the complex mechanics of Rococo workshop practice, as in Pons’s 1986 study of the boiseries of Versailles and Paris, which brings to attention the work of Jacques Verberckt (1704–1771), the most important of Louis XV’s designers at Versailles.72 Marianne Roland Michel’s 1984 monograph pays Jacques de Lajoüe (1687–1761) his due as a figure as important as Boucher or Fragonard, highlighting his tight web of relationships with the painters, publishers, and patrons of the day.73 Fuhring’s catalogue raisonné of the work of Meissonnier combines incisive stylistic analysis and historiography with a wide-ranging understanding of the cultural and artistic mechanisms of the age, notably, like Nyberg, a recognition of the impact of the silversmith’s métier on Rococo in general and how Meissonnier’s Italian origins fuelled the French criticism that Rococo was a foreign import.74 Like the studies of the 1960s, William

12

The Spiritual Rococo

Park (1992) defended Rococo as a period style, citing commonalities across the media such as the curve, femininity, revolution, and nature, as well as polarities such as bourgeois versus aristocratic, although to my mind he stretches his definition of Rococo a bit far when he includes monuments such as the front staircase at Chiswick House near London (1729) or the architecture of Nicholas Hawksmoor (1661–1736).75 More satisfactory is Katie Scott’s magisterial The Rococo Interior (1995), the most serious and systematic study of French Rococo since Kimball, with a welcome treatment of the historical, social, and economic underpinnings of the style, detailed studies of ateliers—including a reminder of the importance of canvas paintings in decorative ensembles—a useful section on printmakers and collectors, and a compelling argument that décor directly reflected the new ideologies of the era.76 The only book to deal head on with Rococo décor’s relationship with religion is Karsten Harries’s The Bavarian Rococo Church (1983), which breaks with the chronological, catalogue-like approach so common in the German scholarship with its march of schools and monuments to propose an overarching characterization of the Bavarian Rococo church.77 Particularly astute are his comments that the impulse for Rococo—its lightness and playfulness, as well as specific ways of treating ornament—existed in Bavaria before the arrival of French models and that the way Germanic ceiling painters intentionally distort perspective reflects a desire to make space incomprehensible and therefore both disconcerting and miraculous. Rococo church interiors in Germany retain aspects of the Baroque but challenge them at the same time. Harries also suggests that by focusing attention upon itself—by becoming autonomous of figural imagery or even architecture—the vigorous stucco ornament in Germanic churches ceases to be ornament, and like Nyberg he draws a parallel with Modernist abstraction.78 The past 20 years have witnessed an unprecedented outpouring of books, articles, and exhibitions on the Rococo and the literature also embraces a wider geographical range, including important studies of Rococo in Portugal (MarieThérèse Mandroux-França’s catalogue of the prints assembled for King João V by Pierre-Jean Mariette), Brazil (Myriam Ribeiro’s groundbreaking study of “religious Rococo” in Portugal and Brazil), Ireland (Timothy Mowl and Brian Earnshaw’s account of Rococo décor in Ireland and Western England), and the colonial United States (Morrison Heckscher and Leslie Greene Bowman’s exhibition catalogue American Rococo).79 Exhibitions at the Gulbenkian (2006), Cooper Hewitt (2009), and Getty (2011) museums reflect not only the popularity of the subject but also the number of people now working on Rococo décor and decorative arts, as does a new multi-author study (2015) edited by Hyde and Scott which is in part a response to the Cooper-Hewitt exhibition.80 The Getty catalogue not only places Rococo objects in their historic context but relates them to the daily rituals of the people who owned them, and the Cooper-Hewitt show investigated Rococo in Holland, England, and North America as well as France and Germany—although the catalogue has as

Introduction

13

much to do with Rococo revivals in the nineteenth to twenty-first centuries as it is does about the historical Rococo. Recent work by three scholars focusing on German lands deserves special mention. Although avowedly formalistic Irmscher’s “Style rocaille” (2009), a catalogue raisonné of the Rococo decorative projects of France and Central Europe from the famous to the obscure, is founded on unprecedentedly painstaking visual analysis, with precise descriptions of motifs, aspects of style, and the way ornament punctuates and interacts with its architectural setting and is transformed over time and distance. Equally important but more concerned with viewer reception is the work of Yonan, particularly two articles that directly address the problem of the perception of frivolity in Rococo décor. He extracts insightful political and religious meanings from abstract cartouches in places like the Gardekirche (begun 1755) in Vienna or the Wieskirche (1745–1754) in Bavaria, revisiting Bauer’s formulation of the cartouche in Germanic Rococo in the kind of serious, thoughtful way so far only seen in scholarship on Islamic art.81 Finally Hertel’s study of the figural sculpture of Ignaz Günther is not a monograph but a consideration, like Loer’s, of the self-reflective nature of Rococo and also its relationship to Enlightenment aesthetics, drawing primarily upon late eighteenth-century responses to Günther’s art and new attitudes toward sculpture by critics like Johann Joachim Winckelmann (1717–1768) and Lorenz Westenrieder (1748– 1829). One of her most significant contributions is her acknowledgment of the genuine religious motivations underlying Günther’s seemingly decorative and undeniably sensual sculptural groups, and more significantly her insistence that Rococo, the Enlightenment, and the age of sensibility are not separate categories but interconnected.82 This book will grapple with the multiple meanings, ideologies, and capabilities of Rococo décor with a particular focus on spirituality and religious interiors and the ways in which people used them and thought about them. It will trace its transformation from a French domestic decorative style into the preferred ornamental mode for ecclesiastical building in large parts of the Catholic world: in Central Europe, Portugal, Brazil, and the Southern Cone of South America. Although this book covers much territory I will treat my subject thematically within each region rather than attempting an exhaustive survey or gazetteer—this book cannot hope to represent the full extent of religious Rococo even within the individual regions under investigation, particularly in Central Europe and Brazil where a comprehensive study would be an enterprise of multiple volumes, like the series on Germanic Baroque and Rococo ceiling painting, Corpus der Barocken Deckenmalerei in Deutschland (1976–present), edited by Bauer, Bernhard Rupprecht, Frank Büttner, and others, already in 12 volumes with two more to come.83 And while one of its main functions is to observe the origins and development of style, this book is equally concerned with Rococo’s social, religious, and political context (indeed Chapter 1 is not about art at all). The book’s voyage from Paris to Patagonia will follow a chain of interlocking case studies, from

14

The Spiritual Rococo

focused treatments of individual monuments, artists, and art movements to considerations of spiritual and political activities, intellectual battles and compromises, and interpretive problems that I feel best tell the story. These links in the chain are as varied as Parisian Salon culture, the role of the cartouche, the Wessobrunn stucco workshops of Bavaria, Francophilia at the Portuguese court, the Jesuit brother artists of Chile, the retablo makers of Buenos Aires, and the Brazilian independence movement. Except in France (Chapter 2) and a few cities where they are germane to my subject (Munich and Lisbon) this book does not consider secular interiors and consequently parts of Europe where domestic Rococo prospered but that resisted the style in their churches fall outside its scope, notably Protestant countries but also Ireland and Italy. Such is Lutheran Sweden during the so-called Frihetstiden (anti-Absolutist “Age of Liberty,” 1718–1772), when under the leadership of connoisseur and diplomat Carl Gustaf Tessin (1695–1770) Rococo interiors became all the rage in the Royal and aristocratic palaces— notably Queen Lovisa Ulrica’s apartments at the Royal Palace in Stockholm (1744–1745) with their delicate, web-like boiseries—while by contrast church interiors remained plain and resolutely Baroque, even in the churches of Carl Hårleman, one of the main designers of the Rococo apartments in the Royal Palace (for example, the Sofia Albertina Kyrka in Landskrona, 1754–1788).84 Since my focus is on the Catholic world and Catholic spirituality even variants of religious Rococo fall outside the purview of this book, as in the Eastern Orthodox world: some very fine Rococo church interiors belong to that faith, notably Bartolomeo Rastrelli’s Church of Saint Andrew in Kiev (1747–1762; Fig. 3.3) or Bernard Meretin’s and Johann Georg Pinzel’s Uniate Church of Saint George in Lvov (1744–1760), their vaults and iconostasis screens united in a tracery of gilded rocailles that draws our eye into the sparkling empyrean of the domes above.85 I must also leave out the so-called “Turkish Rococo” (also known as “Turkish Baroque”), a decorative movement that enjoyed an enthusiastic reception in eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century Ottoman Turkey—even in mosques, such as the Nuruosmaniye (“Osman’s Light”) Mosque (1748–1756)—as well as variants that appeared in the palace garden architecture of Qing Dynasty China, both of which however I have discussed elsewhere.86 Alongside this narrative this book will trace the parallel diffusion of the French literature of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason in these same regions, linking religious literature to the arts as a way of interpreting the use of Rococo in religious settings. I believe that the spirituality of happiness espoused by this literature had a direct impact on the decoration of Rococo religious interiors, although I do not presume to link specific treatises with particular decorative programs (only a single text, a 1739 sermon from Bavaria, which I will discuss in Chapter 3, connects this French spirituality with a particular Rococo church interior). However this part of the study is hampered by a dearth of secondary literature outside France (and to a limited degree Portugal) and cannot be treated in the same detail as my investigation of Rococo décor.

Introduction

15

There is almost no scholarship on the influence of eighteenth-century French treatises and sermons on places such as Central Europe—the vast majority of studies on sermons and spirituality treat the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Protestantism, and the Enlightenment, and references to the impact of French literature are marginal at best. In Brazil considerable work has been done on preaching in the early Independence era (from the 1820s onward) where it fuelled nationalist sentiment. It is useful tangentially but does not address the era treated in this book nor does it tell us much about the reception of French writers. In Spanish South America the study of eighteenth-century preaching is in its infancy and the impact of French-inspired spirituality remains to be researched. For this reason I have placed particular emphasis on primary sources to investigate the global diffusion and impact of French spiritual literature, looking in particular at eighteenth-century library inventories as well as extant holdings of French spiritual works in scores of institutions in Central Europe, Portugal, and South America—they are listed in the three appendices at the end of the book—not only the original French editions but in numerous translations into German, Portuguese, Spanish, and Latin. As it is the first such compendium attempted I hope that the information in these appendices will serve scholars from various fields who wish to fill the gaps in the literature. I have also been able to reveal the profound influence of French spiritual literature outside France by turning to printed and manuscript sermons from Central Europe and Latin America, works that not only reflect the new Rococo spirituality but that demonstrate a universal campaign to reconcile Christianity with aspects of Enlightenment philosophy. Chapter 1 introduces the treatises and sermons of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason, tracing their origins in seventeenth-century sacred and conduct literature and focusing on their florescence in the first half of the eighteenth in the context of salon culture, which I will argue was permeated with spiritual sensibilities on many levels. Chapter 2 introduces Rococo décor in France, looking at its historical and social origins, the symbolic role Rococo motifs and structures played in aristocratic spaces, the themes the visual arts shared with the spiritual literature of the time, and the efficient means by which the style was spread across the globe by the publishing houses of the Rue Saint-Jacques. I will also make a brief excursus into French Rococo painting, since recent studies of Watteau, Boucher, Fragonard, and others have provided methodological tools of critical importance for a consideration of décor and because these painters contributed directly to decorative programs. Chapter Three, on Central Europe, will be the first to focus on ecclesiastical Rococo, charting the adoption and transformation of the style in church interiors and also the enthusiastic reception of French Rococo literature across the social spectrum. I will posit that this fashion for the Rococo spirituality of happiness was fuelled in part by the expansion of rural piety, pilgrimage cults, and popular devotions that forever changed the region’s religious landscape, but that it is also intimately linked to an intellectual movement scholars call

16

The Spiritual Rococo

the Catholic Enlightenment. Critical to the story are the stucco masters from places like Wessobrunn, who thanks to the magic of their light and pliable medium opened Rococo up to expressive and structural possibilities never dreamed of in the largely wood-bound Rococo of France, and the printers of Augsburg, who produced more Rococo decorative engravings than did the Rue Saint-Jacques and who were also responsible for the largest number of translations of French spiritual literature in Central Europe. The religious Rococo of Central Europe was a synthesis, combining Roman and Venetian ceiling painting traditions with French-inspired stucco décor and latent Gothic structural and aesthetic tendencies indigenous to the region. The second half of the book will take us to Portugal and Latin America, both profoundly affected by French and German ecclesiastical Rococo. In fact Portugal and Brazil (Chapter 4) may have produced more regional variations of the style than anywhere else and were also the only places where Rococo made a significant appearance on the exteriors of ecclesiastical buildings, perhaps reflecting, in Brazil in particular, a growing exteriority in religious expression by lay religious groups. The Portuguese court and parts of Brazil closely emulated France: they had their own equivalents to the Enlightenment salon, the Portuguese Teodoro de Almeida (1722–1804) was a leading contributor to the literature of the Spiritual Rococo, and Portuguese King Dom João V compulsively collected French engravings through his agents in Paris. Chapels and churches in Queluz, Rio de Janeiro, and Ouro Preto emulated French domestic Rococo while other regions favored the more vigorous Rococo of Germany, especially in the north of Portugal and northeast Brazil. Brazilian Rococo was particularly closely associated with lay religious communities such as Third Orders and confraternities, or brotherhoods (irmandades). Spain and the northern, more heavily colonized parts of Spanish America were modestly interested in Rococo at best, preferring their vigorous indigenous Baroques, but the style thrived in the Southern Cone (present-day Argentina, Paraguay, and Chile), the subject of Chapter 5. This enthusiasm can partly be related to the influx of French and German engravings—prints by Babel, Peyrotte, and Franz Xaver Habermann were favored models for altarpieces and pulpits—but, more significantly, it derived from the presence of the largest number of non-Iberian European immigrant artists in Latin America, most of them from Central Europe. Almost all of the Germanic artists, architects, and craftsmen who came to the region were Jesuit lay brothers, brought literally by the shipload between the 1720s and 1750s to form art academies and workshops in cities like Buenos Aires and Santiago and on the missions in Paraguay and Patagonia, giving the Rococo décor and architecture of those regions a uniquely Germanic flavor. The ties with Central Europe and the protagonists of Chapter 3 were very close: many of these men came from the same stucco and sculpture centers—and even the same families—as the artists who contributed to the great abbey churches of Bavaria and Swabia.

Introduction

17

It is fitting to end with Brazil and the Southern Cone because they shared an exceptional understanding of Rococo: unlike in urban Europe where it came to be seen as demoded and corrupt, Rococo appealed to a growing Enlightenment-inspired aesthetic in South America that sought a return to logic and clarity in church design, its printed model altarpieces providing a lightness, lucidity of structure, and return to more Classical forms that were a welcome escape from the heavy, ornament-saturated retablos of the Hispanic Baroque or even the Rococo of Portugal. Thanks to its association with the avant-garde, Rococo in South America survived that continent’s revolutions— indeed in places like Minas Gerais it was the preferred style of revolutionaries decades before independence was even declared—living on as the visual expression of reason and progress until about 1830. The people of South America went further than any other region in acknowledging something that perhaps only rural Central Europe was willing to admit: Rococo’s essential modernity.

Notes 1

Marc Fumaroli, “Retour à l’antique: la guerre des gouts dans l’Europe des Lumières,” in Guillaume Faroult et al. eds, L’antiquité rêvée (Paris, 2010): 45. Fumaroli uses the term rocaille, commonly in use in France, instead of Rococo, the term used outside France.

2

For a particularly insightful analysis of Rococo’s reputation as frivolous and degenerate, see Mary Sheriff, Fragonard: Art and Eroticism (Chicago, 1990): 26–9. See also Arnold Hauser, The Social History of Art III (New York, 1951): 34.

3

Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury have recently commented that the literature treats Boucher, “as if profound enquiry seems inappropriate or misplaced,” while Michael Yonan asks whether we must characterize Rococo décor “as an inescapably frivolous mode essentially unsuited to sobriety?” [Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, “The Pleasures of Rethinking François Boucher,” in Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, eds, Rethinking Boucher (Los Angeles, 2006): 4; Michael Yonan, “Ornament’s Invitation: the Rococo of Vienna’s Gardekirche,” The Eighteenth Century 50, 4 (2010): 285]. Similarly, Nigel Aston remarked that eighteenth-century religious art is “virtually a nonsubject for art historians.” [Nigel Aston, Art and Religion in Eighteenth-Century Europe (London, 2009): 7]. I would disagree with Aston in the case of monographs on Venetian painters, in whom there has been a groundswell of interest recently, for example, Fabrizio Malachin and Alessia Vedova, Bortoloni, Piazzetta, Tiepolo il ‘700 veneto (Milan, 2010).

4

Wylie Sypher, Rococo to Cubism in Art and Literature (New York, 1960).

5

Roberto Calasso, Tiepolo Pink (London, 2010): 155.

6

Marianne Roland Michel, ‘L’ornement rocaille: quelques questions,’ Revue de l’Art 55 (1982): 68. Marc Fumaroli raised some of the same points in a recent conversation (personal communication, Musée des Arts Decoratifs, Paris, October 2010) and in his chapter “Retour,” 45. Victor-Lucien Tapié blames the French distaste for Rococo on an enthusiasm for Cartesian rationalism and Jansenist influence on Catholicism [Victor-Lucien Tapié, “Essai d’analyse du rococo international” in Sensibilità e razionalità nel settecento. Aspetti e problemi 5 (Venice, 1969): 125].

7

Marianne Roland Michel, Lajoüe et l’Art Rocaille (Neuilly-sur-Seine, 1984); Peter Fuhring, JusteAurèle Meissonnier: un génie du Rococo II vols (Turin and London, 1999). Although an edition of marginal drawings by Gilles-Marie Oppenord (2011) has just come out this giant of Rococo decor still awaits a catalogue raisonné. Jean-François Bédard, Decorative Games: Ornament, Rhetoric, and Noble Culture in the Work of Gilles-Marie Oppenord, 1672–1742 (Lanham, MD, 2011). On Cuvilliés, the Zimmermann brothers, and Habermann see: Wolfgang Braunfels, François Cuvilliés: Der Baumeister der Galanten Architektur des Rokoko (Munich, 1986); Friedrich Wolf, François de Cuvilliés (1695–1768): der Architekt und Dekorschöpfer (Munich, 1967); Henry-Russell Hitchcock, German Rococo: The Zimmermann Brothers (Baltimore, 1968); Christina Thon, J.B. Zimmermann als Stukkator (Munich and Zurich, 1977); Hermann Bauer et al., Johann Baptist und Dominikus Zimmermann (Regensburg, 1985); Ebba Krull, Franz Xaver Habermann (1721–1796): ein Augsburger Ornamentist des Rokoko (Augsburg, 1977).

18

The Spiritual Rococo

8

I have spent years hunting them down in institutions in France, Germany, Austria, and the Czech Republic, but could never publish them all or even make them available online given the exorbitant costs of permission rights. The classic (unillustrated) encyclopedia of ornemenistes is Désiré Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemanistes: dessinateurs, peintures, architectes, sculpteurs et graveurs: Écoles français, italienne, allemande et des Pays-Bas I (Paris, 1880).

9

Roland Michel, “L’ornement rocaille,” 66–71; Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 13–14.

10

See in particular Melissa Hyde’s eloquent critique of this commonplace and her investigation of the role of women as patrons as tastemakers: Melissa Hyde, Making Up the Rococo: François Boucher and his Critics (Los Angeles, 2006): 45–72. See also Sheriff, Fragonard, 28–9; Fuhring, Meissonnier, I, 67–8; Beverly Heisner, “The Rococo: Art Terminology and Aesthetic Prejudices,” Southeastern College Art Conference Review 10, 5 (1985), 260; Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, O rococó religioso no Brasil e seus antecedentes europeus (São Paulo, 2003): 37.

11

See Philippe Minguet, Esthétique du rococo (Paris, 1966): 221–6. Minguet writes: “La féminisation de l’art dans le première moitié du siècle est un fait évident et qui suffirait à la rigueur à différencier le rococo du baroque … Le primat du décoratif sur la constructif—décor brodé, parfilé—consacre à sa manière l’emprise des femmes.” [219–20] See also Penelope Hunter-Stiebel, “The Continuing Curve,” in Sarah D. Coffin et al., eds, Rococo: The Continuing Curve, 1730–2008 (New York, 2008): 31; William Park, The Idea of Rococo (Newark, 1992): 19, 32–4; Mario Praz, Mnemosyne: the Parallel between Literature and the Visual Arts of Several National Traditions (Princeton, 1970).

12

Robert Smith, The Art of Portugal 1500–1800 (New York, 1968): 132.

13

Sabine Melchior-Bonnet, Histoire de la Frivolité (Paris, 2013): 12–32.

14

Katie Scott, The Rococo Interior (New Haven and London, 1995): 255. As Scott notes: “[t]hus the salon, and more generally the hôtel to which it belonged, was assigned to the realm of decoration, fashion and the corrupting influence of women.” See also Mary Sheriff, Fragonard, 1, 10–11; Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 129; René Démoris, “Boucher, Diderot, Rousseau,” in Hyde and Ledbury, Rethinking Boucher, 203; Hyde, Making Up the Rococo, 4, 201; Mary D. Sheriff, “Rococo,” in Alan Charles Kors, ed., Oxford Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003) III, 466; Melissa Lee Hyde, “Rococo Redux: From the Style Moderne of the Eighteenth Century to Art Nouveau,” in Coffin, et al., Rococo: The Continuing Curve, 13.

15

Philip Sohm, “Gendered Style in Italian Art Criticism from Michelangelo to Malvasia,” Renaissance Quarterly 48, 4 (1995): 767. It ultimately derives from Aristotelian divisions of the sexes into different characteristics.

16

“La rondeur des formes, la finesse des traits, l’éclat du teint” [Joseph-François-Édouard de Corsembleu Sieur de Desmahis, “Femmes,” in Denis Diderot and Jean d’Alembert, eds, Encyclopédie, ou dictionnaire raisonné XIII (Geneva, 1778): 956–7.

17

This is from Abbé Laugier Manière de bien juger des ouvrages de peinture (Paris, 1771): 79. See also Fumaroli, “Retour,” 26. On homosexuality as an Italian import, see Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Confessions (Angela Scholar, trans. and ed.; Oxford, 2000): 117, 653.

18

Fumaroli, “Retour,” 23, 26.

19

Heisner, “Rococo,” 260.

20

See for example Philipp Blom, Wicked Company: Freethinkers and Friendship in Pre-Revolutionary Paris (London, 2011) or Anthony Pagden, The Enlightenment and Why it Still Matters (New York, 2013).

21

Meredith Martin, “The Ascendancy of the Interior in Eighteenth-Century French Architectural Theory,” in Denise Amy Baxter and Meredith Martin, eds, Architectural Space in Eighteenth-Century Europe (Farnham, 2010): 29–30.

22

Pierre Francastel, “L’esthétique des lumières,” in Pierre Francastel, ed., Utopie et institutions au XVIIIe.siècle. Le pragmatism des lumières (Paris, 1963): 335, 345–6; 357. See also André Chastel, L’Art français: ancien régime 1620–1775 (Paris, 2000): 149; Michael Levey, Painting and Sculpture in France, 1700–1789 (New Haven and London, 1995): 1; Herman Bauer, Rocaille. Zur Herkunft und zum Wesen eines Ornament-motivs (Berlin, 1962): 76; Fumaroli, “Retour,” 35. Wylie Sypher also pointed out similarities between Rococo décor and painting and Enlightenment ideas about nature, rationalism, and liberty [Sypher, Rococo to Cubism, 23–34].

23

Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 35, 40.

24

Fumaroli, “Retour,” 48; Christiane Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria: the Sculptor Ignaz Günther and Eighteenth-Century Aesthetic Art Theory (University Park, 2011): 7.

25

Hyde and Ledbury, “The Pleasures of Rethinking François Boucher,” 4.

Introduction

19

26

Molotiu refers to these works as “Preromantic.” See Carol Duncan, “Happy Mothers and Other New Ideas in French Art,” Art Bulletin CV, 4 (1973): 570–83; Andrei Molotiu, Fragonard’s Allegories of Love (Los Angeles, 2007): 16–17, 63, 69–82; Mary Sheriff, “Fragonard’s Erotic Mothers and the Politics of Reproduction,” in Lynn Hunt, ed., Eroticism and the Body Politic (Baltimore, 1991): 14–40 (especially p. 27); Emma Barker, Greuze and the Painting of Sentiment (Cambridge University Press, 2005): 115–45.

27

On the new scholarly acknowledgment of the importance of religion in the development of the Enlightenment see: Ulrich L. Lehner, “Introduction: the Many Faces of the Catholic Enlightenment,” in Ulrich L. Lehner and Michael O’Neill Printy, eds, A Companion to the Catholic Enlightenment in Europe (Leiden, 2010): 9–10; Ulrich L. Lehner, Enlightened Monks: The German Benedictines, 1740–1803 (Oxford, 2011): 2–3.

28

Alain Niderst, “Modernisme et Catholicisme de l’Abbé Trublet,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 306. Blanning’s remark is quoted in Peter Björn Kerber, “Perfectibility and its Foreign Causes: Reading for Self-Improvement in Eighteenth-Century Paris,” in Charissa Bremer-David, ed., Paris: Life & Luxury in the Eighteenth Century (Los Angeles, 2011): 78, see also 86. See also Philippe Malgouyres, “Peinture et spiritualité en Italie au XVIIIe siècle,” Studiolo 2 (2003): 254; Garrioch, The Making of Revolutionary Paris (Berkeley and London, 2002): 144.

29

David Garrioch, The Making of Revolutionary Paris, 142–51; Mary D. Sheriff, Moved by Love, Inspired Artists and Deviant Women in Eighteenth-Century France (Chicago, 2004): 57–60; Brian Strayer, Suffering Saints: Jansenists and Convulsionnaires in France, 1640–1799 (Eastbourne, 2012): 240–43; Marijke Gijswijt-Hofstra, Witchcraft and Magic in Europe V: The Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries (London, 1999): 212–13; David Jan Sorkin, The Religious Enlightenment: Protestants, Jews, and Catholics from London to Vienna (Princeton, 2008): 264–5.

30 Aston, Art and Religion, 43–5, 185, 286. 31

Charissa Bremer-David, “About Time: The Hours of the Day in Eighteenth-Century Paris,” in Bremer-David, ed., Paris: Life & Luxury, 11–32. On the use of the breviary in the eighteenth century see Pierre Salmon, The Breviary Through the Centuries (Collegeville, 1962): 117. See also Henri Bremond, Histoire littéraire du sentiment religieux en France X (Paris, 1932): 211. On the last rites processions, preceded by a handbell see Garrioch, The Making of Revolutionary Paris, 157.

32

Cuzin is quoted in Aston, Art and Religion, 9.

33

Karsten Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church: Between Faith and Aestheticism (New Haven and London, 1983): 119; Robert Harbison, Reflections on Baroque (Chicago, 2000): 57.

34

Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer, “Rococo,” Encyclopedia of World Art XII (New York, 1966): 241.

35

Martin Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté: Boucher and Religious Painting,” in Hyde and Ledbury, Rethinking Boucher, 62.

36

William Park, The Idea of Rococo, 44.

37

Sypher, From Rococo to Cubism, 33–4.

38

Fumaroli, personal communication, Cercle de l’Union Interalliée, Paris, November 2010; Fumaroli, “Retour,” 45.

39

Hans Sedlmayr, “The Synthesis of the Arts in the Rococo,” in The Age of Rococo (Munich, 1958): 25.

40

The quotation is from Oleg Grabar, The Mediation of Ornament (Princeton, 1992): 244; see also Gülru Necipoälu and Mohammed al-Asad, The Topkapı Scroll: Geometry and Ornament in Islamic Architecture (Santa Monica, 1995).

41

A recent special issue of the journal Dix-huitième siècle (34, 2002) entitled Christianisme et Lumières was devoted to this very issue, its introduction noting how scholars are beginning to break down the traditional dichotomy between Lumières and anti-Lumières to acknowledge the commonalities between the two sides and the constructive dialogues that took place between two groups that were not as polarized as has been commonly asserted [Sylviane Albertan-Coppola, “Présentation,” Dix-huitième siècle (34, 2002): 5–9; Sylviane Albertan-Coppola, “Perspectives,” Dix-huitième siècle (34, 2002): 10–12.

42

The quotation is from Sedlmayr and Bauer and refers to Rococo style as an artistic revolution. It is quoted in Sheriff, “Rococo,” 467.

43

Malgouyres, “Peintre et spiritualité,” 258.

44

See Aston, Art and Religion, 14; Gérard Cholvy, “Les peuples de France entre religion et révolution (1760–1830),” in J. Martin, ed., Religion et Révolution (Paris 1994): 11–24.

45

Sheriff, Fragonard, 65.

46

Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 232.

20

The Spiritual Rococo

47

Siedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 229. Elsewhere, when discussing the appropriateness of using the term Rococo for Germanic structures they insist on the careful restriction to “an understanding of the actual stylistic structural principles of the rococo” [p. 235].

48

I am more wary of their inclusion of South German Rococo as one of these regional varieties, although their change in terminology (they call it a Sonderrokoko not a Sonderform) suggests that they see it as a regional variant of the Rococo and not just an analogous late Baroque [Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Baroque,” 235] On the distinction between true Rococo and late Baroque Italianate forms, see also Günther Irmscher, “Style rocaille,” Barockberichte 51/52 (2009): 340.

49 Fuhring, Meissonnier, II, 443. The original English form of the word was “Rockal” or “Rockcall” (1746–47) [Fuhring, Meissonnier, II, 446]. 50

Peter Dance, A History of Shell Collecting (London, 1969): 28; Frances Terpak, “Objects and Contexts,” in Barbara Stafford and Frances Terpak, eds, Devices of Wonder (Malibu, 2002): 148; Rochelle Ziskin, Sheltering Art: Collecting and Social Identity in Early Eighteenth-Century Paris (University Park, 2012): 1. I am very grateful to Heather Merla for bringing these sources to my attention.

51

Alastair Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings and the Diffusion of the Rococo,” in Henri Zerner, ed., Le stampe e la diffusione delle immagini e degli stili (Bologna, 1983): 114; Irmscher, “Style rocaille,” 340, 342. Indeed Gersaint comments that “the most beautiful and singular do not cross our shores and come for the most part from the East and West Indies, or other far distant lands.” [EdméFrançois Gersaint, Catalogue raisonné de coquilles et autres curiosités naturelles (Paris, 1736), 15.]

52

See E.C. Spary, “Scientific Discoveries,” History of Science 42 (2002): 11–13; Terpak, “Objects and Contexts,” 148, 166–7. Another important treatise on shell collecting and decorating, although published after his death, was Dezallier d’Argenville, La conchyliologie, ou, histoire naturelle des coquilles de mer (Paris, 1780).

53 Gersaint, Catalogue raisonné, 7. 54 Gersaint, Catalogue raisonné, 10. 55

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 169–75. His cabinets were on the first floor of his hôtel in Paris, are known from engravings, and have been preserved in the Muséum national d’Histoire naturelle. I am grateful to Heather Merla for discovering the cabinet’s existence in the museum.

56 Fuhring, Meissonnier, II, 444. There is a copy of the title page of the Mondon/Aveline cahier in the Bibliothèque Nationale (BNF, Ee, 11e, 15). 57

Quoted in Fuhring, Meissonnier, II, 448. This usage became entrenched in the nineteenth century as in the Dictionnaire de L’Academie Française (1842), which also allowed that the style extended into the reign of Louis XVI [Heisner, “The Rococo,” 260].

58

Le Camus de Mézières, Le génie d’architecture, ou analogie de cet art avec nos sensations (Paris 1780), 52. Cited in Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 130, 124; see also Fuhring, Meissonnier, II 448–9. In fact Sedlmayr and Bauer attribute the “co” at the end of “Rococo” to “this equating of the rococo with Bernini and the baroque” [Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 231].

59

See Heisner, “The Rococo,” 259.

60

Fiske Kimball, The Creation of the Rococo (Philadelphia, 1943): 59; Bruno Pons, De Paris à Versailles, 1699–1736. Les sculpteurs ornemanistes parisiens et l’art décoratif des Bâtiments du Roi (Strasbourg, 1985): 102; Wend von Kalnein, Architecture in France in the Eighteenth Century (New Haven and London, 1995): 37–8, 73; Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 67.

61

Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 13; Roland Michel, “L’ornement rocaille,” 67; Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 67.

62

Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings;” Ernest Mundt, “The Rocaille in Eighteenth-Century Bavarian Architecture,” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 26, 4 (Summer, 1968): 501–13; Michael Yonan, “Ornament’s Invitation,” 285–308.

63 Minguet, Esthétique du rococo; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 230–70 (the Italian version, in the Enciclopedia Universale dell’Arte XI was published in 1963). On the strengths of this article see Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 19; and Roland Michel, “L’ornement,” 74, note 8. A version was later published as a book: Hermann Bauer and Hans Sedlmayr, Rokoko: Struktur und Wesen einer europäischen Epoche (Cologne, 1992). 64 Minguet, L’Esthétique du rococo, 185–201. His discussion of petitesse can be found on page 12, décor as refuge on page 196. For a much condensed version of his thoughts on Rococo, see Philippe Minguet, Baroque et Rococo en Belgique (Liège, 1987): 18–26. The idea of “grace” itself as a fundamental characteristic of the Rococo was first aired by the Goncourt brothers in their L’art du XVIIIe siècle (1873–74): “Watteau renewed the quality of grace … The grace of Watteau is grace itself. It is that indefinable touch that bestows upon women a charm, a coquetry, a beauty that is beyond mere physical beauty. It is that subtle thing that seems to be the smile of a contour, the soul of a form, the spiritual physiognomy of matter” [Quoted in Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 235].

Introduction

21

65 Minguet, L’Esthétique du rococo, 124, 174–5, 184, 201. See also Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 232; Michael Levey, Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth Century Painting (London, 1966): 28, 18, 20. 66

Le siècle du Rococo : art et civilisation du XVIIIème siècle : quatrième exposition sous les auspices du Conseil de l’Europe, 15 juin-15 septembre 1958 (Munich, 1958): Arno Schönberger and Halldor Soehner, L’Europe du XVIIIème siecle. L’art et la culture (Paris, 1960); Manierismo, barocco e rococo. Concetti e termini (Rome 1962). See Roland Michel, “L’ornement rocaille,” 67; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 18, 301.

67

Pierre Francastel, “L’esthétique des lumières,” 332.

68

These included one in 1962 at the Cooper Union Museum with a catalogue by Richard P. Wunder [Extravagant Drawings of the Eighteenth Century from the Collections of the Cooper Hewitt Museum (New York, 1962)]; one the next year on Meissonnier at the Seiferheld Gallery (New York) and Phoenix Art Museum with a catalogue by Desmond Fitz-Gerald [Juste Aurèle Meissonnier and Others (New York and Phoenix, 1963)]; a slew of exhibitions without catalogues in 1965, 1969, 1975, and 1979; and a catalogue of the French drawings at the Kunstbibliothek in Berlin [Eckhart Berckenhagen, Die Französische Zeichnungen der Kunstbibliothek Berlin (Berlin, 1970)]. For a critique of their methods of attribution see Roland Michel, “L’ornement,” 67 and 74 notes 9–10, 13.

69

Dorothea Nyberg, “Introduction,” in Meissonnier: an Eighteenth-Century Maverick (Bronx, 1969): 16–43. On the importance of Nyberg’s piece see Roland Michel, “L’ornement,” 67; and Fuhring, Meissonnier, I, 68.

70

Nyberg’s reference to Action Painting is on page 7. She relates Meissonnier to Nicolas Boileau in his Traité du sublime (1674), a translation of the Roman writer pseudo-Longinus (third century AD), and Pliny the Younger (first century AD) [Nyberg, “Introduction,” 16, 22].

71

Veit Loers, Rokokoplastik und Dekorationssysteme: Aspekte der süddeutschen Kunst und des ästhetischen Bewusstseins im 18. Jahrhundert (Munich, 1976).

72

Pons, De Paris à Versailles.

73

Roland Michel, Lajoüe.

74

Fuhring, Meissonnier. The discussion of rocaille appears in vol. II, pp. 443–50.

75

Park, The Idea of Rococo.

76

Scott, The Rococo Interior.

77

Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church.

78

Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 36; 60, 238–9, 241–2; Karsten Harries, The Broken Frame, Three Lectures (Washington, 1989): 78.

79

Pierre-Jean Mariette, Catalogues de la collection d’estampes de Jean V, roi de Portugal III vols (MarieThérèse Mandroux-França ed., Lisbon/Paris, 2003); Ribeiro, O rococo religioso, 2003; Timothy Mowl and Brian Earnshaw, An Insular Rococo: Architecture, Politics and Society in Ireland and England, 1710–1770 (London, 1999); Morrison H. Heckscher and Leslie Greene Bowman, American Rococo, 1750-1775: Elegance in Ornament (New York, 1992). An earlier exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum also treated Rococo in England but with a focus on objects rather than interiors: Rococo: Art and Design in Hogarth’s England (London, 1984).

80

Bremer-David, Paris: Life and Luxury; Coffin, Rococo: The Continuing Curve; Peter Fuhring, Designing the Décor: French Drawings from the Eighteenth Century (Lisbon 2006); Melissa Lee Hyde and Katie Scott, eds., Rococo echo: art, theory and historiography from Cochin to Coppola (Oxford: Oxford Studies in the Enlightenment, 2015).

81

Yonan, “Ornament’s Invitation;” Michael Yonan, “The Wieskirche: Movement, Perception, and Salvation in the Bavarian Rococo, Studies in Eighteenth Century Culture 41 (2012): 1–25.

82

Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, 7.

83

Hermann Bauer, Bernhard Rupprecht, et al., Corpus der barocken Deckenmalerei in Deutschland, 12 vols. (Munich, 1976–).

84

Bo Vahlne, Frihetstidens inredningar på Stockholms Slott (Stockholm, 2012): 116–97; Göran Alm, “Arkitekturen och Inredningskonsten,” in Göran Alm, ed., Frihetstidens Konst (Lund, 1997): 9–134; esp. pp. 61–7; Bruno Pons, The James A. de Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor: Architecture and Painting (Aylesbury, 1996): 138.

85

James Cracraft, The Petrine Revolution in Russian Architecture (Chicago, 1988): 170; Archikatedra Świętego Jura we Lwowie (Lvov, 2008).

86

See my Art on the Jesuit Missions in Asia and Latin America (Toronto, 1999): 109–11; and “The Synthesis of East and West in the Ottoman Architecture of the Tulip Period,” Oriental Art XLVIII, 4 (Winter 2002): 2–13.

1 “The Dream of Happiness”:1 The Literature of the Spiritual Rococo and the Christianity of Reason

According to the traditional view Rococo may have been religious in Bavaria and other places where it was used in church interiors, but French Rococo was strictly profane, libertine—even anti-religious. Yet French Rococo developed in its own climate of spirituality. At the same time that the first Parisian homes were being decked out in Rococo panels, sconces, and mantelpieces French socialites were integrating a new kind of piety into their daily lives, talking about it, and writing books about it—in fact the salons and coffee houses of Paris were abuzz with talk about religion. Although this spirituality was predominantly Catholic—or at least Christian—in content it adopted the language and concerns of polite society and even found commonalities with Enlightenment rational philosophy. Just as Rococo style in the visual arts was a rebellion against the weighty moralism of the Baroque and the manipulative theatrics of seventeenth-century church interiors, Rococo spirituality was a subtle revolt against the often grim austerity and strict dogma of the established Church. A new, optimistic, somewhat free-form Christianity the Spiritual Rococo and its rationalist variant, the Christianity of Reason, were concerned above all with earthly happiness, but always one achieved through responsible actions and decorum, a message that fit perfectly with the new pursuits and values of Parisian society. The idea of Rococo spirituality in eighteenth-century France may seem hard to grasp, but it all came down to something that was undeniably at the very core of that culture: manners. The spiritual foundations of Rococo manners, with their emphasis on civility, virtue, and politesse, go back to one of the Grand Siècle’s most influential literary forms, the conduct book. Manuals for social interaction, duty, and even hygiene, conduct books have roots in the Renaissance when works such as Baldassare Castiglione’s Il libro del cortegiano (1528) and Desiderius Erasmus’s On Civility in Children (1530)—itself founded on Christian ethics—applied the Ciceronian ideal of civitas (civil society) and the “honest man” to court and city.2 Faith and specifically Christian morality played a more substantial role in Baroque Europe’s most popular conduct book, Antoine de Courtin’s Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnêtes gens (1671).

24

The Spiritual Rococo

The Nouveau traité is a practical guide to polite behavior divided into subject chapters and subheadings instead of being dressed up as a Ciceronian dialogue as was traditional, and it combined Christian and courtly values, transforming civitas into Christian virtues of modesty, humility, honesty, and neighborly love, making social behavior a kind of meditative act.3 Courtin’s manual grew out of the aristocracy’s need to preserve its social identity during an era when Louis XIV (1643–1715) severely restricted their actions, in 1682 going so far as to require the landed gentry to leave their estates and live at court in Versailles where they could be better observed— and controlled—in a manipulative system of court ceremonial. Louis created his own rigid system of manners in which he was the model for courtly behavior, and on one level Courtin’s book was based on court ceremonial. But Courtin also devoted much attention to polite conversation, a form of interaction developed by the aristocracy as a way of defining themselves as a social entity distinct from that of the court.4 This focus on leisure and conversation marked a significant change from earlier concepts of nobility based on the values of the military, a realm denied them by the Sun King’s strictures. In Dena Goodman’s estimation this autonomous conception of social behavior would pose in the eighteenth century “as great a threat to the monarchy as did the discordant voices of the bread rioters.”5 Based on the ideal of a harmonious, balanced society Courtin’s guide treated a universe of subjects, from how to greet people of higher status and dress in church to the niceties of letter writing and table manners.6 But his conception of society was not merely worldly: Courtin was a follower of Saint Francis de Sales (1567–1622), author of the immensely popular spiritual manual Introduction to the Devout Life (1609), a guide for the Christian soul to follow the path to God. Sales introduced the concept of “dévotion civile,” the link between decorum in worldly society and faith in God, writing that: “in a well-regulated community every one’s aim is true devotion … there is a profitable society;—that of good devout people.”7 More significantly, Sales equates the devout life with happiness, deviating from the standard teaching in which union with God must be obtained through suffering and abstinence: “It is just so … that the world runs down true devotion, painting devout people with a gloomy, melancholy aspect, and affirming that religion makes them dismal and unpleasant. But … the Holy Spirit tells us through His Saints, and our Lord has told us with His Own Lips, that a devout life is very sweet, very happy and very loveable … And if devotion can sweeten … cruel torments and even death itself, how much more will it bring charm to ordinary good deeds?”8 Courtin’s treatise shows the unmistakable imprint of Sales. Placing Biblical quotations alongside those of Cicero, Courtin constructs his ideal of “civilité chrétienne,” reconciling a Christian education with an “éducation du monde.”9 Typical is his discussion of honor. Under the heading All points of honor are at one with the point of honor of Christianity, he writes: “Look, therefore, at the different kinds of honor. The first, which is the point of honor according to Nature, is common to

“The Dream of Happiness”

25

all men. The second, which is the point of honor according to occupation, is particular to each of us. And the third, which is the point of honor according to Religion, is common to all Christians.”10 Even his discussion of teasing or banter has a Christian angle: “Naturally, teasing is a cheerful and spiritual discourse, which expresses something agreeable without wounding anyone, nor [departing from] fairness.”11 Throughout Courtin’s book pleasure and happiness are laudable ends in themselves, but always tempered by decorum and guided by a sense of spiritual and moral duty. Sales’s and Courtin’s concepts of a Christianized civility and their endorsement of the pursuit of spiritualized pleasure would have immense repercussions in the first quarter of the following century.12 Around the same time Courtin published his Traité churchmen and philosophers alike started paying closer attention to the ideal of pleasure and happiness—a stated goal of humankind since the time of Aristotle. Most famously Dutch Jewish philosopher Baruch Spinoza (1632–1677), whose Ethics (1677) came out less than a decade after Courtin’s treatise, promoted the advancement of human happiness as an essential component of freedom and self-understanding, indeed a virtue in itself. But far from being a hedonistic free-for-all, Spinoza’s happiness is moderate and based on an intellectual knowledge and love of God, even if that “God” is more of an abstract concept or a desacralized “Nature”: “[i]t is the part of a wise man, I say, to refresh and invigorate himself with moderate and pleasant eating and drinking, with sweet scents and the beauty of green plants, with ornament, with music, with sports, with the theatre, and with all things of this kind which one man can enjoy without hurting another.”13 Equally importantly, Spinoza’s happiness is only achievable when a person behaves ethically toward others and bears in mind the well-being of the community—Denis Diderot, who agreed in principle, would later call this “moral pleasure”—with reason leading naturally to respect and altruism. Robert Mauzi notes that it was precisely this interest in happiness and esteem for fellow human beings that created, in the eighteenth century, the most significant attempt at a rapprochement between worldly and Christian morality.14 The Society of Jesus enthusiastically supported this reconciliation. In the decades before Spinoza’s treatise one of the most contentious religious debates of seventeenth-century France was sparked by a new worldly presentation of Christianity advanced by the Jesuits. Beginning in the 1640s Jesuit lecturers and preachers at their Parisian college of Saint-Louis-le-Grand and in churches throughout the city used a more pleasing, “abundant, varied, enthusiastic, and ekphrastic” style of homily that adopted the techniques of the theatre and popular literature to persuade, excite, and delight their listeners with “the most powerfully festive effect.”15 Detractors at the time called this popularizing style “Asianist” (in the Ciceronian sense of Hellenistic, and therefore decorative and excessive) versus the puritanical and elitist Atticism espoused in particular by the Jansenists, a Catholic movement formed in the 1640s by an intellectual elite with close ties to the court and

26

The Spiritual Rococo

especially the Paris Parlement, the primary judicial body and counterbalance to royal authority.16 The Jansenists denounced the Jesuits’ popularizing style for their “relaxed morals” and “poor taste,” noting their “facile devotion” and “flowery” sermons.17 But the Jesuit manner was too successful to be quashed and was even taken up by non-Jesuit preachers such as the Oratorian priest Nicholas Malebranche, author of Traité de la nature et de la grâce (1685). Malebranche sought common ground between the concepts of the Natural Man and the Man of Grace, and taught that the pursuit of happiness can lead directly to eternal bliss, clashing with Jansenist theologians such as Antoine Arnauld (1612–1694).18 Another seventeenth-century writer whose work presaged the treatises and preachers of the eighteenth century was the aristocratic Yves de Paris (ca 1590– 1678), a Capuchin orator and author of Heureux succès de la piété (1632) and Le gentilhomme chrétien (1666), the latter a Christianized conduct book.19 Yves de Paris was most active in the 1660s and 1670s and was popular with members of his own class and also the Jesuits.20 Using terms that would become common in the next century he taught a worldly spirituality that championed joy, pleasure (jouissance), and delight (délices) in the contemplation of the charms (charmes) of nature—he refers to les plaisirs de plein air—but also the sweetness and innocent “voluptuousness” (volupté) of courtly human interaction.21 To give an idea of the audacity of Yves’s use of these terms we only need to turn to Diderot, who a century later was still using jouissance and volupté to refer to the pleasures of the orgasm (1765).22 One of Yves’s most extreme concessions to the sensual world was his contention that it was permissible to leer at pretty women: “No one asks of you that you be blind to the beauties of the court: you are allowed to look at them up close, like objects in a cabinet, with admiration, without touching.”23 The closest predecessor of the Rococo spiritual treatise is Les règles de la bienséance et de la civilité chrétienne (1716) by the French cleric (Saint) JeanBaptiste De La Salle (1651–1719), perhaps the most widely read spiritual conduct book of its time and popular with Lumières such as Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who was also inspired by Francis de Sales.24 De la Salle revives Sales’s reconciliation between worldly decorum and divinity, teaching that it is impossible to be an honnête homme (gentleman) without observing Christian decorum: it is “a virtue that has a connection to God, to the next world, to ourselves.”25 For De la Salle every gesture of the body, every action in society must be done in reflection of Christian humility, respect, and virtue.26 Polite conversation becomes a spiritual exercise, so that whether we are receiving guests or writing letters we should act “with purely Christian motives, and thus all our exterior actions, which are the only ones which can be regulated by decorum, must always have and carry with them a character of virtue.”27 Like Sales De la Salle teaches that Christian decorum, or civilité, is rewarded by happiness and innocent pleasures.28

“The Dream of Happiness”

27

Spiritual Rococo and the Eighteenth-Century Salon During the eighteenth century France exploded with popular piety in reaction to an authoritarian official church. One manifestation of that piety was the radical Jansenism of the 1720s to 1750s when the movement’s politicized clerics and magistrates and the mass public hysteria of the convulsionnaires, associated with Jansenism, threatened the very stability of the French Catholic Church and Monarchy. Although some of the nobility had Jansenist sympathies and others even attended the circus-like events at Saint-Médard, most adherents came from the bourgeoisie and, in the case of the convulsionnaires, the working classes.29 The other manifestation of popular piety, the literature of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason, was firmly grounded within the aristocracy and upper bourgeoisie and could not have been less like its Jansenist counterpart. Focusing on inward contemplation and a celebration of sensuality and beauty this primarily domestic movement opened the way for a unique reconciliation between sacred and profane.30 Beginning in the late 1720s elite men and women, from priests and philosophers to diplomats and aristocrats, generated a body of literature aimed at Christianizing Rococo society and its ideals of pleasure, social decorum, and (increasingly) secular naturalist philosophy: “[t]o reconcile God and pleasures, religion and the world, this is the great common enterprise of the worldly and the Christian writers in the first half of the century.”31 Variously aimed at women, men, and children, the literature of the Spiritual Rococo and the Christianity of Reason—over 50 treatises by one count together with innumerable published sermons that are usually left out of the scholarly literature—were specifically aimed at polite society and the Lumières and they borrowed the latter’s style and genres, from the epistolary, novel, and epic poem to the scientific treatise.32 These works offered religious dimensions to a variety of worldly pleasures—from theatre going and promenading to letter writing and jesting—like Courtin turning everyday activities into meditative acts and aligning piety with politesse. They united faith with rationalism, treating Enlightenment inquiry not as anathema but as a means of understanding Christianity and interpreting worldly happiness as proof of the existence of God.33 Rational philosophy was itself preoccupied with human happiness but treated it as a product of nature that fit into a universal order.34 Louis-François Ladvocat, author of Entretiens sur un nouveau système de morale et de physique (1721)—it had a sufficiently wide readership that a copy of his book turned up in eighteenth-century Amazonia—wrote that happiness is experienced by all people according to natural law and that interaction with polite society was one of its necessary prerequisites.35 This recognition of the obligation the individual had toward society was a common theme with many Enlightenment philosophers such as Alexander Pope, whose Essay on Man (1733) called virtue the source of universal and eternal happiness, or David Hume’s Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion (1751), for whom moral laws can only be created by human societies.36 Churchmen were less impressed

28

The Spiritual Rococo

with the most radical advocate of earthly pleasure, Julien Offray La Mettrie (1709–1751), author of a manifesto of unbridled hedonism entitled École de la volupté (1747) for whom voluptuous pleasure was an acceptable pursuit on its own merit.37 Other philosophical treatises on rational happiness included the poet François-Augustin-Paradis de Moncrif’s Essais sur la nécéssité et sur les moyens de plaire (1738) and François-Louis Claude Marin’s conduct book L’Homme aimable (1751). Mathematician and astronomer Pierre-Louis Moreau de Maupertuis (1698–1759) summed up the spirit of the times by writing that happiness is “the sovereign goal of life.”38 One of the main targets of the literature of the Spiritual Rococo was the salon, the crucible of Rococo social interaction in which aristocratic hosts received writers, scholars, and philosophers on certain days of the week and created a forum for polite discourse and the exchange of ideas.39 Although male belle-lettristes like the Baron d’Holbach (1723–1789), Claude-Adrien Helvétius (1715–1771), and the maréchal de Soubise (1715–1787) also ran salons those directed by women formed a unique and critical institution of the French Enlightenment. Begun as early as 1613 by the Marquise de Rambouillet (1588–1665) in the “blue room” in her Paris hôtel the female-run salon became by the mid-eighteenth century a regular and established institution in the French social season between November and May and a self-conscious alternative to court culture.40 In a symbiotic relationship elite women served as arbiters of taste while their male, often bourgeois, guests offered their ideas and writings within an atmosphere of polite exchange—even though salons were foremost places of leisure and discussions were meant to be witty and not pedantic.41 Scholars have long maintained that as a female space the salon tempered male aggression: as a classic study from 1949 put it, “the role of a mistress of the house is … essentially to substitute for the law of the jungle this law of reciprocal respect.”42 This trope can be traced to comments like that of Voltaire, who remarked: “[d]ecency, which was due principally to the women who gathered society in their homes, made minds more agreeable.”43 Salons involved myriad activities including readings, debates, musical and theatrical performances, card playing, and gossip, but the glue that held them together was polite conversation.44 In the first half of the century the principal salons were those of Louise Bénédicte de Bourbon, the duchesse du Maine (1676–1753), Anne-Thérèse de Marguenat de Courcelles, the marquise de Lambert (1647–1733), Claudine Guérin de Tencin, baronne de Saint-Martinde-Ré (1682–1749), and Marie Anne de Vichy-Chamrond, marquise du Deffand (1697–1780), all of whom hosted scholars and philosophers professing various degrees of libertine and rationalist thought, and the later eighteenth-century salons, which welcomed the likes of Jean Le Rond d’Alembert, Rousseau, and Diderot, included those of Marie-Thérèse Rodet Geoffrin (1699–1777), Julie de Lespinasse (1732–1776), Louise d’Épinay (1726–1783), and Suzanne Curchod, better known as Mme Necker (1737–1794).45 Before long intellectuals were hard pressed to coordinate their social appointments and salonnières had to expend great energies to avoid having their meetings overlap—by the last

“The Dream of Happiness”

29

quarter of the century no fewer than 64 salons met regularly.46 Mme Lambert, the first to hold regular meetings, met twice a week at her rooms in the Hôtel de Nevers; Mme Geoffrin held salons three times a week at her house on Rue Saint-Honoré, and Julie de Lespinasse held them every day of the week.47 Salonnières typically arranged different programs of discussion depending upon the guest list. Charles-Jean François Hénault, President of the French Academy, recalled about the salons of Mme Lambert: “[w]e read works ready for publication; there was one day of the week we shared lunch and passed the whole afternoon in her academic conferences.”48 Her guests included scientists, belles-lettristes (including the baron de Montesquieu and the Abbé Jean Terrasson), but also musicians and painters such as Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683–1764), Hyacinthe Rigaud (1659–1743), Jean-Antoine Watteau, and Marc Nattier (1685–1766).49 Salonnières varied in their commitment to religion. Mme Lambert was the moralist, forbidding card-playing, inebriation, disrespect toward women, and excessive ostentation.50 Writing about her at the end of the century the historian Jacques de Norvins commented: “[n]othing was really more Christian, on the human plain, than this grande monde vision whereby one lived only by others and for others.”51 Mme Geoffrin maintained close ties to the Church throughout her life. She was a disciple and host of the pacifist L’Abbé de SaintPierre (1658–1743)—she also had him teach Christian values and decorum to her daughter Marie-Thérèse—as well as L’Abbé Nicolas-Charles-Joseph Trublet, author of the most radical of the treatises of the Spiritual Rococo.52 Geoffrin also maintained rooms in the Abbaye Saint-Antoine outside Paris for spiritual retreats—in fact she hired painter Hubert Robert to portray her and her companions in its garden in 1773—and she took notes of subjects for her salons from sermons in the fashionable church of Saint-Roch.53 Her spirituality was sincere even if, as some scholars contend, she deliberately hid it from her contemporaries to preserve her identity as a freethinker.54 By contrast, Mme Tencin, despite having once been a nun, had an approach to religion that one commentator characterized as being “beyond profane.”55 Mme du Deffand also moved into a convent following her separation from her husband, but she did so for practical more than religious reasons and never took holy orders—indeed her celebrated salons, held in her richly appointed cell on Rue Saint-Dominique in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, were far from Spartan.56 Many of the spiritual treatises of the eighteenth century derived directly from the salon and were written by the very men and women who attended them. The contribution of women authors is particularly noteworthy in an era when women constituted a mere three percent of writers overall, although the treatises are closely related to a genre that was considered acceptable for female writers: advice books for young people. Mme Lambert’s Avis d’une mère à son fils et à sa fille (1728), a conduct book read from Vienna to Buenos Aires, can be considered a forerunner of the Spiritual Rococo.57 Although not openly religious there is much about the human soul in her book and she

30

The Spiritual Rococo

treats the metaphysical dimensions of happiness and the honnête homme and femme so that the exterior forms of society acquire an interior dimension, and politesse in manners builds on the politesse of the spirit.58 Lambert finds the key to happiness in polite exchange: “if you want to be happy all alone you will never be; the whole world will dispute your happiness; if you want everyone to be [happy] with you, everyone will come to your aid.”59 Lambert also writes about the “voluptuous pleasure of the soul and the heart,” a common theme in the treatises of the Spiritual Rococo.60 Novelist Madeleine d’Arsant de Puisieux (1720–1798), famous like Lambert for writing some of the earliest defenses of the equality of women (notably La femme n’est pas inférieure à l’homme of 1750) as well as racy works like the allegorical novel Le plaisir et la volupté (1752)—she was also Diderot’s mistress—wrote a conduct book veiled as advice to a young woman about to leave the convent.61 Entitled Conseils à une amie (1749), it focuses, like Lambert, on the importance of decorum and the link between virtue and divinity: “[i]f one follows good sense, virtue, justice, and reason in every step, one will be supremely happy: but this high point of perfection is not the share of mankind; it is reserved for divinity: it is a question only of proposing it for a model; gradually, the reward will follow success.”62

Sermons of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason The literature of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason can be divided into two main genres: the sermon and the treatise. Although the sermons tended to be aligned more closely with the established Church, written as they were by clerics who often held prominent ecclesiastical posts, both engaged the language of polite society and celebrated the pursuit of pleasure and the enjoyment of beauty over asceticism and an emphasis on worldly sin. It is important to bear in mind—contrary to the impression perhaps inadvertently given by writers such as Robert Mauzi—that although they were dressed in lay language and discussed profane activities the literature was firm in its faith: at no time did writers advocate a departure from the fundamental tenets of Christianity and although some echoed the language of the Deists they only did so to bring readers back into the fold.63 Yet the Spiritual Rococo was no less revolutionary for being steadfastly Christian. The most significant change from earlier spiritual literature— most vigorously advocated by the treatise writers—was its break with the authoritarianism of the French Catholic Church with its emphasis on pomp, penitence, and self-denial and the even dourer gravitas of the Jansenists. This retreat from authority paralleled the aristocracy’s own separation from the Court, precisely the action that helped give birth to the Rococo style, as I will explore in Chapter 2. It is specifically this dismissal of directed, institutional Catholic tradition that has led me to call this movement the Spiritual Rococo, because like the style in the visual arts it broke with Baroque’s grandiose

“The Dream of Happiness”

31

theatricality, challenged received certainties, celebrated the gifts of the present world, echoed the patterns of polite conversation, and compelled people to take an active role in their own self-awareness, spiritual or otherwise. It was Epicurean, but in that movement’s truest sense. The philosophy of Epicurus (341–270 BC) was not an apology for unbridled dissoluteness but rather a contemplative movement that focused on friendship and society—including both men and women—and while it encouraged the enjoyment of pleasure by avoiding pain it also warned against hedonism because it taught that moral laxity caused agony.64 The Spiritual Rococo was a social exercise in metaphysical contemplation. Although the literature of the Spiritual Rococo represented a profound departure from the Classical rhetorical style of the previous century, notably the preachers of the so-called “Grand Style” of Louis Bourdaloue (1632–1704), Esprit Fléchier (1632–1710), or Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet (1627–1704) some of the major seventeenth-century orators already anticipated some of its trends. The Classical style—itself a reaction to the laborious deductive method of medieval scholasticism—sought simplicity, stateliness, and refinement.65 The Jesuit Bourdaloue, the most celebrated, professed a majestic, reasoned style that was popular at the court of Louis XIV, where he was prêcheur ordinaire from 1689, and which made his work the bedrock of ecclesiastical libraries throughout the world.66 It was the oratorical equivalent of the Baroque classicist architecture of Claude Perrault, principle mastermind behind the stately but severe East Front of the Louvre in Paris (1667–1670). Yet although Bossuet, also a staple in eighteenth-century libraries, worked in the same classicist style—indeed he championed the Christianization of classical literature—he demonstrated an interest in earthly happiness that echoed De La Salle. In his Méditations sur l’Évangile (1694–1695) Bossuet wrote that “the entire purpose of mankind is to be happy. Jesus Christ has come solely to provide us with the means for it,” or his Élévations à Dieu (1694–1695) in which he commented that “when God made me in His image and likeness he made me to be happy like he is … and that is why he makes me find in myself these three things: myself who am made to be happy; the idea of my happiness; and the love or desire for the same happiness.”67 Nevertheless, for Bossuet happiness related more to the next life than to this one and he had no truck with the growing libertinism of his age. French oratory shortly underwent two significant changes as it addressed the new culture of polite sociability and Enlightenment discourse. Beginning in the last decades of the seventeenth century it adopted a worldly language of sophistication and sentiment that would culminate in the sermons of the Spiritual Rococo, and by the mid-eighteenth century this mode was joined by the rationalist rhetoric of the Christianity of Reason. The first development welcomed the graceful, florid, and witty style of contemporary literature, and engaged peoples’ sensibilities through repeated references to the heart and emotions and to “sighs” and “tears,” in a pre-Romantic mode that anticipated Rousseau.68 This style of speaking—one contemporary characterized it as

32

The Spiritual Rococo

“indulgent”—became known throughout Europe as the “French method of preaching” and descends from the “flowery” manner used by some Jesuits earlier in the seventeenth century.69 The reactionary early twentieth-century scholar Jules Candel contrasted this “frivolous style” with the “reasonable style” of Bourdaloue, in an echo of the “Atticism” and “Asianism” debates.70 Taking lessons from actors, the most celebrated preachers dazzled their audience by appealing to their sensations and sense of politesse. Although the proponents of the Christianity of Reason were just as concerned with happiness as the writers of the Spiritual Rococo—indeed I do not want to draw too firm a division between them—they adopted a more rigorously academic tone, accommodating the language and method of contemporary philosophy and natural science. The main protagonists of the new oratory were François Bretonneau (1660– 1741), Guillaume de Segaud (1674–1748), Charles-Joseph Perrin (1690–1767), François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon (1651–1715), Jean-Baptiste Massillon (1663–1742), Charles Frey de Neuville (1693–1774), Henri Griffet (1698–1771), and Nicholas-Sylvestre Bergier (1715–1790)—all of whom were avidly read throughout Europe and Latin America (see Appendices). Bretonneau, Segaud, and Perrin were most like Bourdaloue in their grandeur and simplicity but all three used a “pre-Romantic” language of sentiment.71 Segaud and Perrin championed worldly happiness and both writers were prodigious in their use of terms such as “sweetness” (douceur) “charms” (charmes), “felicity” (félicité), “delights” (délices), “desires” (désires), and “joys” (joies).72 They advocated participation in life’s more innocent pleasures—Segaud writes that when “enjoyed with moderation [they] produce the sweetness, order and very prolongation of life”—which they saw as proof of God’s love and a taste of the happiness that awaits in heaven.73 As a metaphor for God’s ability to make the faithful happy Perrin evokes a social gathering in a glittering Rococo salon, “where He assembles youth, beauty, light, gold, silver, precious gems, and everything which we on earth value the most … one is happy, one will be forever …”74 As recently as 1904 Candel was still criticizing Perrin for his worldly ways—his “turgidity, the hollow epithet, the false emotion, the excessive metaphor, or the declamatory remark”—blaming it on the “the poor taste that was in the air.”75 Fénelon, Archbishop of Cambrai, was particularly concerned with style, beauty, and the power of persuasion. An admirer of the Jesuits and Francis of Sales, Fénelon was immensely influential, primarily through his famous admonitory novel Les aventures de Télémaque (1699), but also through his guide to elegant rhetoric called Dialogues sur l’éloquence (1715) and a popular conduct book for young society women.76 Fénelon’s lifelong goal was to Christianize classical philosophy and rhetoric, particularly Aristotle, Demosthenes, and Isocrates, and he held that the beauty of the arts elevated the Soul.77 In his Dialogues Fénelon urges his readers to engage the emotions: “Cicero was correct to say that one should never separate philosophy from eloquence … wisdom without the art of persuading is not at all capable of

“The Dream of Happiness”

33

winning men or bringing virtue into their hearts.”78 Fénelon also taught the importance of being kind and “charming” to one’s fellows—his writings are full of terms like “plaisir” and “charmes”—and he criticized those who expressed their faith through a show of prudishness: “Manners that are drier, more reserved, less complacent, and less overt serve only to give a false idea of piety to the people of the world who are already too set against it and who believe that one cannot serve God except with a somber and despondent life.”79 His focus on civility recalls conduct literature, but his use of terms like “the delights of honest people” (“les délices des honnêtes gens”) to characterize the rewards of social propriety anticipates the more worldly style of salon culture.80 The most significant protagonist of the new oratorical style was the Oratorian Massillon, the darling of the court and aristocracy alike and respected by Voltaire and d’Alembert.81 His elegance at the pulpit made him arguably the most celebrated living orator by the first decade of the eighteenth century.82 But his worldly style excited controversy: in the preface to his posthumous Oeuvres (1745) his editor called his sermons “a bizarre assemblage of sacred and profane,” which “is sure to please, and to please always … in his discussions virtue seems quintessentially amiable; you find nothing but sweetness and consolations; you would be already in possession of a goodness without which you could not imagine happiness.”83 However there is no question of his commitment to Christianity and these sentiments did not prevent Massillon’s sermons from being reprinted well into the nineteenth century in multiple languages—even by New England Protestants.84 Typical is one sermon in which he writes: “it is possible to be happy on earth … because Grace calms our passions, moderates our desires, consoles our sorrows, and gives us a taste of the perfect happiness for which we wait,” and like Fénelon he scoffed at those who believed that salvation could be achieved only through an “ostentation of severity” that seeks “to honor the excesses and exaggerated singularities of [a person’s] penitence …”85 Massillon’s God is a gentle one, more concerned with joy on earth than with the trials of the faith.86 The Jesuits Frey de Neuville and Griffet entered even further into the style of their day, Neuville moving into rational speculation. Known as the “Prince of Preachers,” Neuville celebrated worldly happiness using terms like “délices” and “charmes,” and he recognized polite society as a forum for spiritual pleasure.87 John McManners characterizes him as “elegant to the point of affectation.”88 Active in Paris from 1736 until the expulsion of the Jesuits from France in 1763, Neuville was favored by salonnières and frequently invited to speak at court.89 He is known for the effusive optimism of passages such as this in which he declares that only Christianity is capable of such “sweetness, humanity, generosity, tender compassion—virtues sweet, simple, and complaisant—from which all charms are born, all in agreement with society.”90 A list he wrote of types of happiness verges on the obsessive: “[h]appiness of Heaven, true and solid happiness; happiness always old and

34

The Spiritual Rococo

always new; happiness equally alive and long-lasting; happiness complete and total; happiness pure and without a mixture of evil; happiness, source of peace and concord between the elect who possess it; happiness of reason and virtue; happiness eternal ….”91 Elsewhere Neuville adopts the language of the Philosophes: In order to paint this portrait of the honnête homme I do not need to use the colors of Religion. The duties of virtue derive from Reason and the morality of the Philosophes regarding the obligations of civil society … Christian morality only purifies and perfects them.92

His foray into Enlightenment discourse won him the respect even of the antiJesuit Voltaire, who characterized Neuville as one of “the Jesuits who have the greatest reputation in France.”93 Like Neuville, Griffet’s polished style also echoed contemporary literature and the glittering conversations of the salon.94 Again Candel is disdainful of these stylish mannerisms: “we see [a]lmost all the defects of the epoch … hollow epithets, puerile or forced antitheses, empty grandiloquence, pretentious metaphors, noble periphrases.”95 For Griffet happiness is at the very foundation of Christian life, provided it is achieved through social responsibility: “happiness is the first motive and the final goal of all our actions …,” and “happy tranquility, amiable peace, desirable calm, [the] source of true happiness,” is the reward for abandoning the anti-social offense of ambition.96 Bergier is the most important preacher of the Christianity of Reason, a movement more widely promoted in the treatises than from the pulpit. Some of the preachers of this school, whom Didier Masseu derides as “apologistes sentimentaux,” even battled rationalism by dispensing with the historic proofs of Christianity (Scripture, Patristics) and the existence of God and focusing instead on Humankind’s ability to create a moral happiness on Earth.97 Bergier was more conservative. Adopting the deductive, scientific style of naturalist philosophy, he refutes secularist claims point by point, using Scripture, the lives of the saints, and other sources. Bergier is best known for his attacks on Rousseau (Le Déisme réfuté par lui-même, 1765), the Baron d’Holbach (Apologie de le religion chrétienne contre l’auteur du Christianisme dévoilé, 1771), and materialism (Examen du matérialisme, 1771), yet his sympathies did not prevent him from contributing to an edition of Diderot and d’Alembert’s Encyclopédie with a long-winded excursus on Théologie (1788–1790).98 Claude Langlois calls him a paradox: “a Catholic theologian of Modernity,” although he was far from alone, as we will soon see.99 Like Fénelon and others before him Bergier believes in a benevolent God and exhorts his followers to abandon prudishness and self-inflicted misery and to accept God’s love and happiness on earth, preserving health in body and spirit.100 But he also shared his predecessors’ commitment to social interaction: the virtue upon which eternal happiness rests is above all respect for others.101

“The Dream of Happiness”

35

Treatises of the Spiritual Rococo Sermons may have inspired the treatises of the Spiritual Rococo but they were never as daring in their celebration of worldly happiness. The treatises of the Spiritual Rococo went further in applying the language of polite conversation, the salon, and the culture of luxury to their message of salvation, adopting society’s protagonist—the honnête homme or femme—as the prototype of a good Christian and material opulence as a reflection of God’s bounty. Wrapped in the idiom of worldly elegance and sensuality they exhorted members of society to model responsible and kind Christian behavior as a way of saving the souls of the circles with whom they engaged, gently but firmly guiding them toward God and enjoyment of the joy only He can provide. One of the earliest is by a woman: Mme Aubert’s Les charmes de la société du chrétien (1730), of which the very title recalls fête galante paintings like Watteau’s Les charmes de la vie (1718). Nothing is known of Mme Aubert except that her book was admired by the Jesuits, since they chose it as the Latin oratory prize for members of students’ sodalities in places like Rouen and Aumale.102 She was likely an aristocrat given her education, freedom to write, and the courtly tenor of her book and her style suggests that she participated in salons—perhaps she was a salonnière herself. As Mauzi notes, her “new and remarkable Christianity seems especially conceived to create a man of the salon … [he] becomes an honnête homme, perfumed and courteous, gentle to his fellow men … everything around him becomes easy, soft, and in good taste.”103 In Aubert’s view polite society is the very source of spirituality and by adapting to the “charms” of the world Christianity can create communal euphoria, an echo of Lambert and even the Enlightenment idea of universal happiness—in fact she sometimes follows Lambert’s words very closely, as when she defines true happiness as one that is “always accompanied by the peace of the soul.”104 Like Fénelon or Bergier she chides those who would equate Christianity with harshness and austerity, particularly people who see the human passions as antithetical to happiness: Christianity “can replenish desire and our idea of a tranquil and sweet existence … only [the Christian] possesses these truly amiable qualities, and … only he can be filled with the kind of pleasure that belongs to the one for whom perfections and duration are without bounds ….”105 Her philosophy that joy can only be enjoyed within society brings to mind Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer’s remark about Rococo art that “[p]aradise is togetherness; there is no loneliness; its inhabitants are always numerous, a blessed folk.”106 Aubert asks the reader: “What is the purpose of joining others, if we do not become happier in doing so? … it seems to us that in proving that there are no true charms in society except with the Christian that it should be his duty to reconcile … people with Christianity itself.”107 By placing the Christian within society as a spiritual guide Aubert missionizes the salon by adapting to its culture in much the same way Jesuit missionaries operated in Paraguay or Japan.108 As a good missionary she also attacks secularism:

36

The Spiritual Rococo

“[t]he great Philosophers who have nothing but reason for their guide, have tried to trace for mankind the way to reach happiness … [what an] unhappy and humiliating felicity is that which reduces us to the sad condition of beasts!”109 Nevertheless Aubert’s language is worldly and sensual, as when she writes that the company of the Christian is, “sweet and amiable, [and] offers me a thousand ways [toward] an innocent dissipation,” and she asks Christians to pursue that which is “amicable,” and “the perfection which makes us happier.”110 With Aubert and her followers Christians no longer had to choose between a life of pleasure and one of devotion, between sensuality and spirituality: in Jean Ehrard’s words, “now the praise of pleasure stopped being a theological paradox or a pleasant exercise in worldly literature and became an obligatory theme behind all moral reflection.”111 Not surprisingly several of the treatises of the Spiritual Rococo were written by churchmen, usually styled “abbé” or “père” although the term abbé was frequently little more than an honorific.112 The treatise Le Chrétien parfait honnête-homme, ou l’art d’allier la piété avec la politesse (1740) by L’Abbé Du Préaux takes a similar line to that of Aubert. Written as a fictitious salon conversation full of talk of happiness and pleasure, it criticizes the dour tone of earlier religious manuals, but warns that “one cannot be an honnête homme without being a Christian” and emphasizes the importance of virtue in spreading happiness and faith within a community.113 The most radically worldly treatise by a churchman is L’Abbé Nicolas-Charles-Joseph Trublet’s Essais sur divers sujets de littérature et de morale (1735), republished in expanded form in 1754 and 1760.114 Trublet (1697–1770) was a frequent contributor to the literary magazine Mercure de France, member of the Académie Française, and regular guest at the salons of Mme Tencin, Mme Lambert, and Mme Geoffrin, although he is perhaps best known through Voltaire’s lampoons in Candide (1759) and Le Pauvre Diable (1758).115 Trublet would have shocked many contemporary clergymen with his idea that Christianity was essentially a spiritual Epicureanism in which Humankind’s supreme goal is the pursuit of pleasure and avoidance of pain, although he couched it in terms of moderation: “Epicurean morality is in accord with Christian morality in its moderation in the exploitation of pleasure.”116 Although organized in the haphazard narrative style of much Rococo literature (often referred to as papillotage, or the fluttering of an eyelid) the Essais take the form of a conduct book, with sections such as “On Conversation,” “Of the Talent of Speaking and of Writing,” and “Of the Qualities Necessary for Society.”117 There is the usual emphasis on decorum and gentlemanly behavior, and although in Book II he launches an assault on secularism (“De l’incrédulité”) his digression on “happiness” (“Du Bonheur”) is surprisingly free of specifically Christian references, focusing instead on the “suitability and agreement of our condition with our temper and dispositions, whether natural or acquired.”118 Trublet was also a great advocate of humor as a means of reconciliation: “That flow of good humor, that serenity of soul which multiplies all the blessings we enjoy … [and] blunts the edge of the acutest

“The Dream of Happiness”

37

pain … brings back our ordinary pleasantness and tranquility … this natural easiness and good humor is generally an indication of a good heart, of an humane and moderate disposition.”119 By contrast religion takes center stage in Trublet’s little-known book on the art of writing sermons, Panégyriques des saints (Paris, 1764).120 Here he instructs preachers to invoke pleasure and happiness in their audience precisely as a means of strengthening their faith: they should speak with “tenderness” and in a “touching and pathetic manner” when communicating the “truths of Religion.”121 Like Aubert he also highlights the reciprocity of happiness: “[o]ne should tell men about their duty as if it were their joy and their joy as if it were necessary for ours. The audience must esteem and respect the preacher, but even more they must love him. If he seems to love them, he will be loved by them; and from there, voilà, persuasion is well underway.”122 Trublet speaks as a seasoned socialite when he writes that good taste is the key to approaching polite society, contrasting it with the style of Bourdaloue: “[t]here was an eloquence of the College, a rhetorical eloquence, pompous, and inflated, which has as little to do with the taste of the gens du monde, of the honnêtes gens, as it does of the people … Nothing is more contrary to eloquence than the cold style, and consequently the puffed-up, pretentious, bombastic style. Nothing is colder than false heat.”123 The Panégyriques reveals more than the Essais about the motives behind Trublet’s Christian happiness, a gratifying theology employing a Ciceronian rhetorical mode—with its emphasis on delight as a way of moving listeners (he called it “vivacité”)—that had been used by churchmen since the time of St Augustine and particularly in the wave of Catholic reform after the Council of Trent (1545–1564).124 The most extreme treatises of the Spiritual Rococo were written by courtiers or government officials, often well-travelled and steeped in the culture of the Paris salons and European courts from Dresden to St. Petersburg. By far the best known was the Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme (1734), a moral guide and conduct book for young people about to enter polite society, by CharlesFrançois-Nicolas Le Maître de Claville, president of the bureau of finances of Rouen.125 A wandering, three-volume journey of advice, humor, bon mots, and fictitious conversations, the Traité amuses, teases, and delights its readers, gently but firmly guiding them toward the conclusion that an honnête homme must be a dutiful Christian: as Claville puts it, “the man of pleasure moralizes.”126 In the preface to his third edition (1737) Claville defends his reasons for treating a serious subject in an apparently frivolous way, explaining that “the disciple gains profit from the lessons of the master, but … he amuses himself in meditating upon them by the example of the master who amuses himself in professing them!”127 Claville insists that his readers will best internalize his teachings through a “light and amusing” style that piques the imagination—“moroseness is a subtle poison which kills us imperceptibly … I know of no more infallible remedy than pleasure”—and that the treatise’s disorderliness is less artificial than the methodical organization of more

38

The Spiritual Rococo

traditional catechisms.128 The Traité is peppered with terms evocative of aristocratic life (particularly “sensuality”) and Claville equates “the most perfect voluptuousness” (la volupté la plus parfaite) with virtue and divinity: “[w]hen the soul is concerned with the pleasures of the spirit, what voluptuous pleasure!”129 Claville writes that the theatre is as instructive as the pulpit, concurring with the Jesuits’ use of plays in their pedagogical program but in stark opposition to the general demonization of actors by the French clergy and society in general: “French theatre is purer than ever, and I doubt that some sermon on hypocrisy would be more effective in converting a bigot than the comedy Tartuffe.”130 One of the most interesting themes of the Traité is Claville’s insistence on the need for keeping company with women as guides for polite behavior and as a way of refining male coarseness, basically a defense of the salon: “if an overly inflexible propriety, more harshness than virtue, inspires you to abandon women, bit by bit your spirit becomes rusty, your imagination thickens, your manners become hard … you find nothing more than the dryness of a misunderstood Philosophy.”131 Claville’s tract so closely parallels Courtin’s conduct book that I believe it was directly modeled on it: Courtin opens with a chapter on civility and Claville’s begins with a section on merit (essentially decorum according to station in polite society), and both include chapters on politesse, letter writing, eloquence, mockery, playing, hunting, theatre, music, table manners, walking, and love.132 Some quotations are strikingly similar. Commenting on the art of letter writing Courtin teaches that it is achieved “through stylistic elegance, in explaining things naturally, and by proper, exact, and clear terms.”133 Claville advises in turn: “[i]f your terms are exact, well placed, and correctly spelled, if your phrases are flowing and natural, and if your style is light and polite … your letters will please.”134 Claville’s treatise was widely imitated. Jean-Baptiste Morvan de Bellegarde’s Le Chrétien honnête homme (1736) is an exposition on immersing oneself in the pleasures of society as a spiritual exercise, and his Réflexions sur le ridicule et sur les moyens de l’éviter teaches that polite behavior, in Mimi Hellman’s words: “is a mixture of discretion, civility, complaisance, circumspection, and modesty, accompanied by an agreeable air that emanates from all that one says and all that one does.”135 Another such work was Louis-Jean Lévesque de Pouilly’s avowedly sensualist Théorie des sentiments agréables (1747).136 A respected scholar and mathematician Lévesque de Pouilly belonged to the Académie Royale des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (from 1722) and was the first to introduce Isaac Newton’s Principia (1687) into France.137 His tract was widely read in England and an earlier incarnation made a profound impression upon Enlightenment figures such as Lord Bolingbroke (1678–1751) and Alexander Pope (1688–1744).138 Lévesque de Pouilly preached an Epicureanism similar to that of Claville in which the exercise of virtue produces pleasure of a kind that proves the existence of the Almighty and contributes to world harmony: “[w]e are placed in the universe, as in the garden of our first parents; and if we are forbid the use of one particular fruit, nevertheless let us with gratitude

“The Dream of Happiness”

39

accept of others, which, of themselves, invite us to partake of them.”139 Lévesque de Pouilly posits two kinds of happiness: a worldly happiness available to polite society in general and a heavenly happiness achievable only by good Christians, although only good Christians may enjoy both: “[t]he different sorts of agreeable sensations, furnish us likewise with a proof for the existence of a Deity … [c]an we deny intelligence to the creator of the universe, who has surrounded us with such a number of agreeable beauties, which are as so many characters engraved by his bountiful hand?”140 Among those “beauties” are: those pleasing sensations which flow from painting, sculpture, architecture, and all the objects of sight. It is the same with music, dancing, poetry, eloquence, history, geometry, as well as all the sciences, the diversions, and employments of life … [s]uch is the extensive goodness of the Deity, that he seems to have been liberal, nay profuse of all those pleasures and agreeable sensations which were consistent with his divine wisdom.141

Lévesque de Pouilly was one of the writers most concerned with the visual and performing arts. Claville’s call to recognize women’s critical role in society was answered by a droll but polemical priest from Amiens, L’Abbé Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint Dinouart (1716–1786), who went further, like Mme de Puisieux and many Enlightenment writers, in advocating greater rights for a sex still profoundly subordinate to men. Considered by some scholars to be a proto-Feminist yet preferring to see complementarity rather than equality between the sexes, his most famous treatise on the subject is his anonymous Le Triomphe du sexe, ouvrage dans lequel on démontre que les femmes sont en tout égales aux hommes (Amsterdam, 1749)—“sex” was a synonym for women—in which he uses Scripture to prove that women were as important as men and even concludes with an elegy on physical love for which he got into trouble with his bishop.142 Like Claville he maintains that women are necessary arbiters of society, natural salonnières: “Nothing is more proper for the formation of the spirit and the heart, to inspire the sentiments to learn the ways of the world, than the conversation of the most ingenious and delicate sex.”143 But Dinouart was also a prolific writer of spiritual works in which he sought to bring grace and elegance to the way people talked about religion, as in his L’Éloquence du corps dans la ministère de la chaire, ou l’action du prédicateur (Paris, 1754), aimed as much at lawyers and professors as it was at preachers, which taught its readers to combine polished gestures with a harmonious and refined language based on a “well-cadenced phrase” and “beauty of expression,” remarking that a speaker can only elicit true pleasure in a listener by using a “clear, sweet voice.”144 He writes: “Christian eloquence has Truth for its principle; it knows the charms of profane eloquence but it purifies them through the balm which it spreads over them.”145 Dinouart playfully countered this treatise on talking with one on silence: his L’Art de se taire, principalement en matière de religion, answers secularist attacks on religion and bad preaching alike by telling everyone to shut up.

40

The Spiritual Rococo

Louis-Antoine Caraccioli’s immensely popular De la gaieté (1762) was the first spiritual treatise devoted entirely to happiness. A Frenchman of Neapolitan ancestry Caraccioli (1719–1803) was a respected scholar (he taught rhetoric at the Collège de Vendôme) and his highly developed sense of humor and skills as a conversationalist earned him a place at the tables and salons of Parisian and European high society—Marc Fumaroli calls him a “very secular ecclesiastic.”146 Caraccioli travelled through the courts of Europe, including the Holy See where he was a favorite of popes Benedict XIV and Clement XIII, and he was sufficiently respected by the literati that an anthology of his work was printed in his lifetime (Liège, 1763).147 The author of a scathing lampoon of the frivolity of contemporary society Caraccioli is best remembered for coining the phrase “French Europe” to denote the supremacy of the French language and French manners at the courts of Europe, and his most famous remark was “[t]he Frenchman, since he is essentially communicative, taught the Foreigner that … the grand art of never being exposed is to appear to be saying everything in saying nothing.”148 But Caraccioli, a former Oratorian, was also profoundly devout and promoted avant-garde preachers such as Massillon, Segaud, and Neuville as the means for addressing polite society: “it is at this school, embellished by the graces of a style that is always florid, that the heart learns to think nobly, the spirit to judge sanely, the sense to behave with decency.”149 His numerous publications are characterized by a utopian outlook—Rousseau was a major influence—yet it was profoundly different from that of Enlightenment utopians as it was tempered by mortality and the Christian afterlife.150 De la gaieté and La jouissance de soi-même (1759)—a meditation on the soul that includes the same material—are more emphatic about the fundamental place of happiness in our spiritual lives than any of the earlier treatises, proclaiming that “we are born to be happy,” that “pleasure is inherent in the soul,” and—in a reference to Pope—that it is the ability to laugh that separates us from the beasts.151 Caraccioli’s God aims to please: God promises infinite consolations to those who serve Him faithfully … he declares to us that his yoke is gentle and light, and that he loves those who are happily charitable [qui font l’aumône gaiement]. The cherubim and blessed are represented to us with a smiling air because one knows the degree to which virtue spreads charms on faces; and the Church has its happy days and its joyous canticles only because we are commanded to rejoice in the Savior.152

The smiling cherubs evoke the stucco putti of a Bavarian Rococo church interior. In fact Caraccioli frequently uses imagery from the arts, whether music or painting, writing about happiness that: “sometimes it loosens its tongue and one hears the most beautiful songs; sometimes it takes on a harmonious sound of many instruments, and with them it plays the most marvelous symphony; sometimes it electrifies the spirits and the soul showers forth, as it were, in sparks; sometimes it colors things and everything takes on a new appearance.”153 No other author dresses his Christian message in such luxury and languor: De la gaieté tells us that “charms which are not the

“The Dream of Happiness”

41

product of caprice, nor that of luck … are born of a happy disposition of the soul,” while La jouissance de soi-même remarks that “a purer voluptuousness … the source of all pleasure and the accompaniment of all happiness” comes directly from the Almighty.154

Treatises of the Christianity of Reason The earliest treatises of the Christianity of Reason place more emphasis on rebuffing Enlightenment methods than on accommodating them, but over the course of the eighteenth century they increasingly embraced rational method as a way of explaining the divine and demonstrated an growing respect for the philosophers—indeed some of their writers as we have already seen were accepted in academic circles and actively sought a middle ground between faith and science. At the end of the century as the French Revolution became inevitable the Christianity of Reason sought common ground with the new order, attempting, unsuccessfully, to achieve a more thorough reconciliation between Christianity, Enlightenment thought, and Revolutionary politics and to separate themselves even more decisively from the unpopular institutional Church. Yet, as with the treatises of the Spiritual Rococo, the Christianity of Reason never abandoned the faith: on the contrary its accommodation to Enlightenment culture sought to strengthen it. The more reactionary early variation of the Christianity of Reason was represented by the guide for those about to enter the spiritual life entitled Méthode facile pour être heureux en cette vie et assurer son bonheur éternel (Paris, 1727) by the Carmelite Jean-Jacques-Joseph Calmel.155 Although basically a conduct book on attaining happiness through humility, virtue, and decorum it stresses that joy cannot be experienced by means of secular philosophy, “which only works through Reason” but through Christianity, “which works through Reason, Faith, and the practice of virtues.”156 Perhaps because this work evoked neither the language of the salon nor a convincingly rationalist tone it did not enjoy much of a following and I have not discovered a single example of his work in eighteenth-century libraries outside France. The more sophisticated treatises in this mode launched their attack from within. Claude Buffier (1661–1737), the Warsaw-born Jesuit philosopher and celebrity professor at the College of Louis-le-Grand, was respected by the Lumières—Voltaire called him “the only Jesuit who has contributed a reasonable philosophy in his works” and Diderot collected his books—for his expertise in a wide spectrum of fields from geometry to history, and he was one of the first French proponents of the ideas of John Locke (1632–1704).157 His most relevant treatises, published in many editions and translations, are the Traité des premières vérités et de la source de nos jugements (1724) and the Exposition des preuves les plus sensibles de la véritable religion (1732), and he also published a popular Fénelon-like guide to oratorical eloquence called Traité philosophique et pratique d’éloquence (1728), which advocated the use

42

The Spiritual Rococo

of sentimental language to move audiences.158 As with all the treatises of the Christianity of Reason Buffier adopted the methodical approach of the scientist to refute the secularism of his colleagues on their own terms and “put an immediate stop to unbelief.” Typical is this argument in favor of faith in God, Christ, and the priesthood: “1. Nothing is more reasonable than to believe things when it is God who said them. 2. Nothing is more reasonable than to believe that it is God who said them when we are taught on his behalf by a master also authorized by God, namely Jesus Christ. 3. Nothing is more reasonable than to believe that Jesus Christ taught us [these things], when they come to us via the ministry established by the same Jesus Christ to transmit them to us.”159 The next generation created the most erudite writer of the Christianity of Reason, the scientist, academician, and novelist Teodoro de Almeida (1722–1804), who, although resident in Paris for a time and popular with Parisian literary society, had a greater impact on the Enlightenment in Portugal and will be dealt with in Chapter 4. The radical arm of the Christianity of Reason is represented by the Lazarist priest L’Abbé Antoine-Adrien Lamourette (1742–1794), whose Les délices de la religion ou le pouvoir de l’Évangile pour nous rendre heureux, was published the year before the Revolution, to which he eventually lost his head despite his best efforts to unite the new order with reform Catholicism—he even invented the term “Christian democracy.”160 Lamourette was convinced that the reason that the new philosophy and Christianity were unable to reach consensus was that their protagonists were too partisan, as he quipped in Pensées sur la philosophie de la foi (1789): “Reason and revelation get along infinitely better than their interpreters.”161 Criticizing theologians and philosophers equally for their intransigence, Lamourette sought a moderate middle ground; a new Catholic theology that brought together natural religion with Rousseau-style sentiment on the basis of what David Sorkin calls a “moderate fideist skepticism.”162 Part conduct book, part assault on naturalist philosophy Les délices promulgates Lamourette’s thesis that religion is happiness, love of religion will lead to love of truth, and that philosophy is inseparable from Christianity. Although he unfavorably contrasts the work of Lumières like Nicolas Fréret (1688–1749), Nicolas-Antoine Boulanger (1722–1759), Voltaire, and Diderot with Catholic writers such as Fénelon, Malebranche, and Bourdaloue, he admits that the secularists are not intrinsically bad people: “they are not, in my view, relegated to the class of dishonest men.”163 His own friendship with the revolutionary comte de Mirabeau and his service as a delegate to the Legislative Assembly demonstrated the sincerity of his commitment to a new society. Echoing Lamourette, Encyclopedist L’Abbé Claude Yvon (1714–1791) also chided Christian apologists and Philosophers alike for the intransigence of their views. In his equally futile Accord de la philosophie avec la religion (Paris, 1782), written in the form of a history in order to avoid the “dry” manner of a scientific dissertation, he wrote that since “all truth comes equally from God, the theologian and philosopher never need to be in contradiction with one another. It is therefore necessary that they reconcile themselves; the first

“The Dream of Happiness”

43

so that they do not resist the natural truths … and the second so that they do not clash with supernatural truths.”164 In fact he opens his first volume by openly praising natural philosophy, seeking to harness its best features for Christianity: “The abuse which Philosophy has achieved in this century is no reason to proscribe it, but one should distinguish it from its abuse: taken in its natural sense it is the same as perfected reason. After the Christian religion, it is the most beautiful present which God has made to Mankind. I therefore have not at all had to separate them but to unite them intimately, since they both flow in the same canal.”165 Both of these writers highlight the little-acknowledged fact that, as McManners remarks, “though preachers and philosophes were on opposite sides, the relations between them were, for the most part, courteous.”166 Yet France was not to have a religious Enlightenment as existed elsewhere in Catholic Europe (see Chapters 3, 4, and 5) and in Protestant countries, where so-called “rational theology” sought a scientific basis for faith and leading Enlightenment figures counted theologians among their number. Protestants even harnessed Rococo sensuality in the name of religion—we have already seen this with editions of the work of Massillon published by Episcopalian divines in early nineteenth-century New England. Particularly fascinating is the unabashedly Rococo illustrated English bible produced in folio by Enlightenment publisher Isaiah Thomas (Worcester, Massachusetts, 1791) and liberally ornamented with S- and C-scrolls, rocailles, and trophées, combined with goût à la grecque ribbons and garlands—the first bible printed in the United States and one praised by fellow printer Benjamin Franklin. Paul Gutjahr proposes that his choice to use Rococo ornament responded to a belief in the salvific power of beauty and sensuality, “fusing beauty with certain key virtues such as honesty, courage, and wisdom … Thomas strove to refine his viewer’s sensibilities and encourage them to think of virtuous action as a beautiful thing,” even suggesting that the publisher revived the notion of the salonnière as arbiter, promoting women as “moral instructors and spiritual guardians.” 167 Thus the ideas of the Spiritual Rococo had a long afterlife even in non-Catholic countries. Sorkin maintains that it is the French Crown’s fierce intransigence in the face of religious reform that is to blame—particularly its campaign against Jansenism—for the failure of an enlightened Christianity in that country, because it alienated those who might have embraced Catholic reform and who turned instead to “miracles and prophesy.”168 Meanwhile, any secularist philosophers who might have been tempted to work things out with the Church were discouraged by that institution’s associations with royal Absolutism and its opposition to the Paris Parlement. Although the writers of the Christianity of Reason sought reconciliation, particularly during the reign of Louis XVI, their efforts had little impact on this stubborn polarity between faith and reason and anyway they were too little, too late. Fuelled by growing anticlericalism, the Revolution brutally swept aside any constructive dialogue, discarding spirituality with the same callousness that

44

The Spiritual Rococo

made revolutionaries turn churches into barracks. Yet paradoxically, as we will see in the coming chapters, the French literature of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason made a critical contribution to the reconciliations between Catholicism, reason, and sentimentality outside France in Europe and Latin America alike.

Notes 1

One of the seminal texts on the relationship between Rococo aesthetics and society is Rémy G. Saisselin’s “The Rococo as a Dream of Happiness,” The American Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 19, 2 (Winter, 1960): 145–52.

2

Dena Goodman, The Republic of Letters: A Cultural History of the French Enlightenment (Cornell, 1996): 111; Julie Ann Plax, Watteau and the Cultural Politics of Eighteenth-Century France (Cambridge, 2000): 112.

3

Marie-Claire Grassi, “Introduction,” in Antoine de Courtin, Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnête gens (Clermont-Ferrand, 1998): 13–14.

4 Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 113. 5 Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 112. 6

James B. Collins, The State in Early Modern France (Cambridge, 1995): 122; Grassi, “Introduction,” 11; Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 116. Courtin’s manual has chapters on “De la bienséance que doivent garder les personnes supérieurs à l’égard des inférieures” and “De la bienséance entre personnes égales” [Antoine de Courtin, Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnêtes gens (Paris, 1700): 236–8; 239–54].

7

Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life (London, 1877): 203, 224; see also 10, 156; Grassi, “Introduction,” 16.

8

De Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, 5–6.

9

Grassi, “Introduction,” 26, 33.

10 Courtin, Nouveau traité (1700), 318–20. 11 Courtin, Nouveau traité (1700), 243; Grassi, “Introduction,” 33–4. 12

On Sales’s importance in Rococo spirituality see Marc Fumaroli, Quand l’Europe parlait Français (Paris, 2001): 325.

13

Lewis Feuer, Spinoza and the Rise of Liberalism (Boston, 1958): 199–200; Stephen Nadler, Spinoza: A Life (Cambridge 1999): 186, 190, 242; Matthew Stewart, The Courtier and the Heretic: Leibnitz, Spinoza and the Fate of God in the Modern World (New York, 2006): 174–8; Matthew J. Kisner, “Rationalism and Method,” in Alan Nelson, A Companion to Rationalism (Oxford, 2005): 153; Anthony Pagden, The Enlightenment and Why it Still Matters (New York, 2013): 190–92, 237–8.

14

Robert Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur dans la littérature et la pensée françaises au XVIII siècle (Paris, 1965): 180; Grassi, “Introduction,” 34.

15

Marc Fumaroli, “Baroque et Classicisme: l’Imago Primi Saeculi Societatis Jesu (1640) et ses adversaires,” in Marc Fumaroli, L’école du silence: la sentiment des images au XVIIe siècle (Paris, 1998): 446, 449.

16

Fumaroli, “Baroque et Classicisme,” 447–8; John Goodman, “Jansenism, Parlementaire Politics and Dissidence in the Art of Eighteenth-Century Paris: The Case of the Restout Family,” Oxford Art Journal, 18, 1 (1995): 74–95. For excellent overviews of the Jansenist movement see: Brian Strayer, Suffering Saints: Jansenists and Convulsionnaires in France, 1640–1799 (Eastbourne, 2012): 12–74; and Ulrich L. Lehner, “Introduction,” in Ulrich L. Lehner and Michael O’Neill Printy, eds, A Companion to the Catholic Enlightenment in Europe (Leiden, 2010): 21–5.

17

Fumaroli, “Baroque et Classicisme,” 447–8; Marc Fumaroli, “Renaissance Rhetoric: The Jesuit Case,” in John O’Malley et al., eds, The Jesuits: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts (Toronto, 1999): 99; Daniel Mornet, La Pensée Française Au XVIIIe Siècle (Paris, 1926): 5.

18

Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 180–83; Stephen Gaukroger, “Introduction,” in Antoine Arnauld, On True and False Ideas (Stephen Gaukroger, trans. and ed., Manchester 1990): 6, 34, 37. On Malebranche, see: Steven M. Nadler, “Nicolas Malebranche,” in Alan Charles Kors, ed., Oxford Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003) III, 9–12.

“The Dream of Happiness”

45

19

Henri Bremond, Histoire littéraire du sentiment religieux en France I (Paris, 1923): 421–502. See also Julien Eymard d’Angers, Le père Yves de Paris et son temps (Meaux, 1946); Robert L Fastiggi, The Natural Theology of Yves de Paris, 1588–1678 (Atlanta, 1991).

20

For example, the library of the former Jesuit college at Epinal (Département des Vosges) had eight different works by Yves when it was inventoried in 1792–1793, including L’agent de Dieu dans le monde (Paris, 1658); Les heureux sucès de la piété ou les triomphes de la vie religieuse sur la monde et sur l’hérésie (Paris, 1633); Instructions religieuses tirées des annales et chroniques d’ordre de Saint-François (Paris, 1662); Des misericordes de Dieu en la conduite de l’homme (Paris, 1645); Les morales chrétiennes (Paris, 1639, 4 vols); (Paris, 1638); Les premières vérités de la foi (Paris, 1633); La théologie naturelle … sur l’immortalité de l’âme des anges et des démons (Paris, 1635), (Paris, 1645, 2 vols); L’usage des biens et des maux (Paris, 1642) [ANF, F/17*/20, 214a-b].

21

Bremond, Histoire, I, 433–7.

22

Denis Diderot, “Jouissance,” in Denis Diderot and Jean D’Alembert, Encyclopédie, ou dictionnaire raisonné XVIII (Geneva, 1777): 45. See also his use of the term volupté to denote an orgasm in “Sur les femmes” [Jules Assézat, ed., Oeuvres completes de Diderot II (Paris, 1876): 252].

23

Bremond, Histoire, I, 502.

24

Scholars have recognized the influence of Francis de Sales on Rousseau’s Lettres Morales, written to his former mistress the Comtesse d’Houdetot at the end of their liaison and urging her toward a spiritual retreat. See Jean-François Perrin, “Rousseau et Saint-François de Sales: les lettres à Sophie ou la voie spirituelle,” Revue d’histoire littéraire de la France 94, 2 (March–April 1994): 221–30.

25

Jean-Baptiste De la Salle, Les Règles de la Bienséance et de la civilté chrétienne I (Rheims, 1782): i. See also Grassi, “Introduction,” 34.

26

De la Salle, Les Règles, I, 18–19.

27

De la Salle, Les Règles I, i–ii. In Book I there is a chapter entitled “Du Parler et de la Prononciation” (23–7).

28

De la Salle, Les Règles II, 104.

29

Strayer, Suffering Saints, 243–4.

30

Martin Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté: Boucher and Religious Painting,” in Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, eds, Rethinking Boucher (Los Angeles, 2006): 75. See also Sylviane AlbertanCoppola, “L’apologétique catholique française à l’âge des Lumières,” Revue de l’histoire des religions 205, 2 (1988): 151–80; Marie Claude Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites et leur temps à travers les sermons prononcés dans le Paris religieux du XVIIIe siècle, 1729–1762,” Histoire, économie et société 9 (1989): 24–43.

31

Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 174. See also p. 184. Mauzi lists 52 treatises on Christian happiness in France alone [Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 183], and I have cited additional ones in this book. Albertan-Coppola notes no fewer than 900 Christian apologetic tracts written between 1718 and 1789 although they do not all necessarily deal with happiness [Albertan-Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 152].

32

Jean Ehrard, Littérature française: le XVIIIe siècle I, 1720–1750 (Paris, 1974): 44–5; Steven Kale, French Salons: High Society and Political Sociability from the Old Regime to the Revolution of 1848 (Baltimore, 2004): 2–4; Albertan Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 154–7.

33

Albertan-Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 173.

34

For the most thorough history of the ideal of happiness in Enlightenment literature see: Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 216–68. For a very readable account of the Enlightenment’s contribution to the modern concept of happiness see Darin McMahon, Happiness: a History (New York, 2006): 197–252.

35

For the copy of Ladvocat’s Entretiens in Brazil see Appendix B.

36

Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 230–33; Pagden, The Enlightenment, 144–5.

37

Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 249–52; McMahon, Happiness, 223–30.

38 Mornet, La pensée française, 39–40. Emmanuel le Roy Ladurie, The Ancien Regime: A History of France, 1610–1774 (Oxford, 1998): 466. 39

The now classic work on the relationship between Rococo art and conversation is Mary Vidal, Watteau’s Painted Conversations: Art, Literature and Talk in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century France (New Haven and London, 1992). See also Edward G. Andrew, Patrons of Enlightenment (Toronto, 2006): 106–8; Ehrard, Littérature française, 12, 31; Dena Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons: The Convergence of Female and Philosophic Ambitions, Eighteenth-Century Studies 22, 3 (Spring 1989): 329–50.

46

The Spiritual Rococo

40 Kale, French Salons, 2, 4, 19, 20; Marguerite Glotz and Madeleine Maire, Salons du XVIIIe siècle (Paris: 1949): 13–17. See also Aurora Wolfgang, Gender and Voice in the French Novel 1730–1782 (Aldershot, 2004): 39; Benedetta Craveri, The Age of Conversation (Teresa Waugh, trans., New York, 2005): 263–75; Nicolas Courtin, Paris au XVIIIe siècle: entre fantaisie rocaille et renouveau classique (Paris, 2013): 168–9. 41 Andrew, Patrons of Enlightenment, 107; Wolfgang, Gender and Voice, 39; Goodman, Republic of Letters, 91; Kale, French Salons, 19; Antoine Lilti, “The Kingdom of Politesse: Salons and the Republic of Letters in Eighteenth-Century Paris,” Republics of Letters: A Journal for the Study of Knowledge, Politics, and the Arts 1, 1 (May 2009): 3, 4. See also Antoine Lilti, “Sociabilité et mondanité: les hommes de lettres dans les salons parisiens au XVIIIe siècle,” French Historical Studies 2005 28, 3 (2005): 415–45; Antoine Lilti, Le monde des salons: sociabilité et mondanité à Paris au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 2005). 42

Glotz and Maire, Salons, 16; Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons,” 337–8.

43 Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 113; Jolanta T. Pekacz, “The Salonnières and the Philosophes in Old Regime France: The Authority of Aesthetic Judgment,” Journal of the History of Ideas 60, 2 (April, 1999): 277–8. Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons,” 329–50. 44 Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 297; Plax, Watteau, 114. 45 Mornet, La Pensée Française, 12; Andrew, Patrons of Enlightenment, 107; Glotz and Maire, Salons, 295–338; Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons,” 331–2. 46 Courtin, Paris au XVIIIe siècle, 169. 47

Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 91; Glotz and Maire, Salons, 13–14.

48 Wolfgang, Gender and Voice, 40. See also Kale, French Salons, 19. 49

Katie Scott, The Rococo Interior (New Haven and London, 1995): 232.

50 Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 267–9, 332. 51 Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 270. 52

Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 298, 300–301. See also Paula Rea Radisich, Hubert Robert: Painted Spaces of the Enlightenment (Cambridge, 1998): 20–26; Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons,” 333–4.

53

Mary Vidal, “Looking Past the Mirror: Genre Painting Taken Seriously,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 36, 1 (2002): 103; Radisich, Hubert Robert, 15–20; Derek Beales, Prosperity and Plunder: European Catholic Monasteries in the Age of Revolution (Cambridge, 2003): 102–3; John McManners, Church and Society in Eighteenth Century France II: The Religion of the People and the Politics of Religion (Oxford, 1998): 58.

54 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 32. 55 Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 278; Beales, Prosperity and Plunder, 103; Goodman, “Enlightenment Salons,” 333. 56 Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 310, see also 118, 292. See also Glotz and Maire, Salons, 201–2, 207. 57

Her book appeared for example in the Imperial Library in Vienna and in the collection of Don Francisco de Ortega in Buenos Aires (see Appendices). Andrew, Patrons of Enlightenment, 107; Grassi, “Introduction,” 33–4; Mornet, La pensée française, 13–14; Samia I. Spencer, ed. French Women and the Age of Enlightenment (Bloomington, 1984): 197. Conduct books for young people, even young women, were by no means the preserve of female authors. The Mercure de France announced the publication in December 1736 of “Conversations sur plusieurs sujets de Morale, propose à former les jeunes filles à la pieté; ouvrage utile à toutes les personnes chargées de leur éducation, par M. Callot, Docteur de Sorbonne. A Paris, chez Louis-Etienne Ganeau fils, rue Saint Jacques, à Saint-Louis, vol. in 12.” [Mercure de France (December 1736): 2928], and the Abbé Duguet wrote Conduite d’une Dame chrétienne pour vivre saintement dans le monde (Paris, 1730), a copy of which existed in the imperial library in Vienna [ÖNB Josephinisches Zettelkatalog, III.I.29].

58

Perrin, “Rousseau et Saint-François de Sales,” 283.

59

Anne-Therèse de Marguenat de Courcelles, Marquise de Lambert, Avis d’une mère à son fils et à son fille (Paris, 1728): 52. See also Perrin, “Rousseau et Saint-François de Sales,” 284.

60 Lambert, Avis, 86–7. See also Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 203. 61

Elise Goodman, The Portraits of Madame Pompadour: Celebrating the Femme Savante (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 2000): 47. For a short biography see: A.V. Arnault et al., eds, Biographie nouvelle des contemporains ou dictionnaire historique et raisonné 17 (Paris 1824): 146.

62

Mme de Puisieux, Conseils à une amie (Paris, 1750): 59–60.

“The Dream of Happiness”

47

63

Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 181.

64

Pagden, The Enlightenment, 71–2.

65

On the “Grand Style,” see Fumaroli, Quand l’Europe parlait Français, 326. See also Thomas Worcester, “The Classical Sermon,” in Joris van Eijnatten, Preaching, Sermon and Cultural Change in the Long Eighteenth Century (Leiden, 2009): 133–4.

66

J.P. Donnelly, “Bourdaloue, Louis,” in Charles E. O’Neill and Joaquín M. Domínguez, Diccionario histórico de la Compañía de Jesús I (Rome and Madrid, 2001): 508–9; Henri Bremond, Histoire littéraire du sentiment religieux en France, 311–60; Jules Candel, Les prédicateurs français dans la première moitié du XVIIIe siècle: de la régence a l’encyclopédie (Paris, 1904): 538]. Bourdaloue’s work nevertheless remained a staple of French rhetorical style for centuries to come: “his Méditations sur l’Évangile (pub. 1731) and his Élevations sur les mystères (pub. 1727), written in the concluding decade of his life, rank as classics of French devotional literature.” [F.L. Cross and E.A. Livingstone, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church (Oxford, 1997): 228]. The Appendices show that he was the most popular French spiritual writer of his age in eighteenth-century Central Europe, Portugal, and Latin America.

67

Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, Méditations sur l’évangile I (Versailles, 1815): 5; Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, Élévations à Dieu chez tous les mystères de la religion chrétienne, (Paris, 1727): 99. On Bossuet and his role in promoting a new, clear style of preaching based on the classics and associated with France, see: O.C. Edwards, Jr. “Varieties of Sermon: A Survey of Preaching in the Long Eighteenth Century,” in Eijnatten, Preaching, 11; Worcester, “The Classical Sermon,” 133–72.

68

Leleux, “Predicateurs jésuites,” 34–5; Peter Björn Kerber, “Perfectibility and its Foreign Causes: Reading for Self-Improvement in Eighteenth-Century Paris,” in Bremer-David, Paris: Life and Luxury, 84. See also Albertan-Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 155; Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 77. Mauzi notes an increase in works attempting to reconcile Faith and Reason after the 1740s with the rise of secularism. See Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 181, 208–9.

69

The obscure moralist Alleaume (1700) wrote “Il faut dans la religion des théologiens indulgents, qui défendent la facilité et l’indulgence, qu’elle a pour empêcher que ceux qui sont austères ne le spiritualisent trop et ne la poussent à une trop grande rigueur.” [Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 183]. On the use of the phrase “French manner of preaching” (“modo de pregar francês”) in Portugal, see Maria Luísa Malato Borralho, “Teodoro de Almeida,” in Luís de Oliveira Ramos et al, eds, Estudios em homenagem a João Francisco Marques I (Porto, 2001): 216.

70

Candel, Les prédicateurs français, xxxvii–viii.

71

Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites,” 35. See also Candel, Les prédicateurs français, 487, 503, 533–4, 572; and D. M. Price, “Segaud, Guillaume” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario histórico IV, 3456.

72

For example in this passage by Segaud on piety: “Elle ne se borna pas à former dans son esprit de beaux projets; elle ne s’arrêta pas à faire naître dans son cœur de bons désirs,” or “Et tantôt il me sembloit que la chasteté se présentoit à moi avec les plus belles vertus ses compagnes, & me disoit, en étalant à mes yeux, malgré leurs sévérité, tous leurs charmes” [Guillaume de Segaud, Panégyriques du Père de Segaud de la Compagnie de Jésus (Paris, 1751): 98; 148] Perrin is equally liberal with his use of terms such as “charme” or “adorable,” or “délices” (for example, Sermons du R.P. Perrin sur la morale et sur les mystères (Liege and Paris, 1768): I, 369–70; II, 22, 140, 171; IV, 169, 362].

73

Guillaume de Segaud, Sermons du Père de Segaud, de la Compagnie de Jésus: Mystères (Paris, 1747): 613; Segaud, Panégyriques, 273.

74

Sermons du R.P. Perrin, 55–7.

75

Candel, Les Prédicateurs français, 572–3. See also Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites,” 24–5.

76

Hughes Oliphant Old, The Reading and Preaching of the Scriptures in the Worship of the Christian Church IV (Grand Rapids, 1998): 507–8; 512; Jeanne-Lydie Goré, L’itinéraire de Fénelon: humanisme et spiritualité (Paris, 1957): 25; 418–28.

77

Goré, L’itinéraire de Fénelon, 81–9, 287–9, 318. See also George Alexander Kennedy et al., eds, The Cambridge History of Literary Criticism: The Eighteenth Century (Cambridge, 1997): 356–7; Old, Reading and Preaching IV, 512.

78

François de Salignac de La Mothe Fénelon, Dialogues sur l’Éloquence en général, et sur celle de la chaire en particulier (Paris, 1841): 83. Elsewhere in the same book he wrote: “we have … seen that eloquence is nothing but the art of instructing and persuading men by moving them” [46].

79

François de Salignac de La Mothe Fénelon, Oeuvres de M. François de Salignac de La Mothe Fénelon VIII (Paris, 1792): 326.

80 Fénelon, Oeuvres, 110.

48

The Spiritual Rococo

81 Old, Reading and Preaching IV, 475, 504–6; Cross and Livingstone, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, 1053; Candel, Les prédicateurs français, xv. 82

Candel, Les prédicateurs français, xxxiii–iv.

83

Oeuvres de Massillon, évéque de Clermont I (Paris, 1843): 3–4. This later edition includes the original 1745 preface from which the quotation derives.

84

See the Appendices for a list of Massillon’s works in libraries in Europe and Latin America. They were even popular among early nineteenth-century Episcopalian preachers in the United States, who nevertheless found it necessary to trim his rhetorical excesses, as explained by one pastor: “Massillon is an author, who cannot be read with pleasure, nor even endured, in a literal translation: he multiplies words with such abundant profusion, that an English reader, not perceiving—it being impossible to preserve—the graces of his style, would be fatigued, and even disgusted, by the same idea so often, with, scarcely, a change of words, presented to his mind” [Rev. Theops. St. John, ed., The Charges of Jean Baptiste Massillon, Bishop of Clermont, Addressed to his Clergy (New York, 1806): vi].

85

Œuvres de Massillon I, 483; Sermons de M. Massillon, Évêque de Clermont..Carême I (Paris, 1758): 418. Such is his homily for Holy Wednesday: “quel bonheur quand on porte à la vertu un cœur que le monde n’avait pas encore gâté! Quel bonheur, quand on entre dans le service de Dieu avec des inclinations heureuses” [Oeuvres de Massillon, I, 486].

86

“Qu’il règne pour notre Bonheur, et il régnera pour sa gloire. Que son unique ambition soit de rendre ses sujets heureux …” [Petit Carême de Massillon, Évêque de Clermont (Paris, 1789): 45].

87

“Charme” appears for example in Charles Frey de Neuville, Sermons du Père Charles Frey de Neuville II (Paris, 1776): 449, 504. Volupté is exclusively used in a negative sense as in Neuville, Sermons II, 32, 116. See also Goré, L’Itinéraire, 250–320; Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites,” 24, 35.

88 McManners, Church and Society, 68. 89

H. Beylard and D.M. Price, “Frey de Neuville, Charles” in O’Neill and Dominguez, Diccionario II, 1526–7; Candel Les prédicateurs français, 619–28, 666.

90

Charles Frey de Neuville, Sermons du Père Charles Frey de Neuville III (Lyon, 1777): 262.

91

Charles Frey de Neuville, Sermons du Père Charles Frey de Neuville II and Œuvres I (Paris, 1830): 369.

92

Frey de Neuville Sermons III, 231.

93

Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites,” 25.

94 Candel, Les prédicateurs français, 595. 95 Candel, Les prédicateurs français, 597. See also Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites,” 24. 96

The first quotation is in Leleux, “Les prédicateurs jésuites,” 38; the second is from Henri Griffet, Sermons pour l’avent, le carême, et les principales fêtes de l’année I (Paris, 1766): 147. In a similar vein, see p. 141.

97

See Didier Masseau, “Les apologistes conciliateurs,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 121–30, particularly pp. 125–7 on Père Lamourette.

98

Claude Langlois, “Démographie céleste et révolution théologique chez Nicolas-Sylvestre Bergier,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 268; Jeffrey D. Burson, “The Catholic Enlightenment in France from the Fin de Siècle Crisis of Consciousness to the Revolution, 1650–1789,” in Lehner and Printy, Companion, 109.

99

Langlois, “Démographie céleste,” 265.

100 Nicholas-Sylvestre Bergier, Apologie de la religion chrétienne, contre l’Auteur du Christianisme dévoilé, & contre quelques autres Critiques II (Paris, 1769): 85. 101 Bergier, Apologie, 54. 102 My copy was presented in 1746 as a Latin oratory prize to a member of the Jesuit sodality of scholastics in Rouen by a Father De Serviet. The book given the year before in Aumale, with a very similar inscription, is in the Bibliothèque Municipale de Lyon [Bibliothèque Municipale de Lyon, SJ A 344/A 04 (Paris, 1730)]. 103 Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 185. 104 Mme Aubert, Les Charmes de la société du chrétien (Paris, 1730): 10. 105 Aubert, Les Charmes, xvii.

“The Dream of Happiness”

49

106 Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer, “Rococo,” in Encyclopedia of World Art XII (New York, 1966): 228. 107 Aubert, Les Charmes, xviii–xix. 108 See Gauvin Alexander Bailey, Art on the Jesuit Missions in Asia and Latin America, 1542–1773 (Toronto, 1999): 151–3. Mauzi also draws a parallel with the Jesuit policy of accommodation, although in the European sphere: Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 198, 207. 109 Aubert, Les Charmes, 27. 110 Aubert, Les Charmes, 151–2; 11–12. 111 Ehrard, Littérature française, 47. 112 “One of the familiar personages of the intellectual life of the age was the literary abbé. Possibly he drew an income from some ecclesiastical benefice, he might or might not have proceeded from the tonsure to priestly orders, and might or might not be a Christian believer.” [John McManners, Abbés and Actresses: The Church and the Theatrical Profession in Eighteenth-Century France (Oxford, 1986): 16–17]. 113 Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 186. 114 The book was republished four times and translated into English; in 1754 the author published an expanded version with a third volume; and in 1760 he released an even larger version with a fourth volume [Niderst, “Modernisme et Catholicisme,” 304]. 115 Voltaire, Candide (Philip Littell ed., New York, 2007): 88, 128. See August de Caumont, En marge de l’academie (Paris, 1962): 71; Jean Jacquart, ed., L’abbé Trublet, critique et moraliste, 1697–1770: D’après des documents inédits (Paris 1926): 3; Jean Weisgerber, Les masques fragiles: esthétique et formes de la littérature rococo (Lausanne, 1991): 39; Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 300; Niderst, “Modernisme et Catholicisme,” 306. 116 Abbé Nicolas-Charles-Joseph Trublet, Essais sur divers sujets de littérature et de morale (Paris, 1768): 342; Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 195–7. 117 Trublet Essais I, 30–78; 79–108; 109–14. Alain Niderst notes that the book is more a series of “morceaux” or reflections than a systematic treatise, and as such is typical of the literature of his time [Niderst, “Modernisme et Catholicisme,” 304]. On the application of the term papillotage on Rococo interiors see: Marian Hobson, The Object of Art: The Theory of Illusion in Eighteenth-Century France (Cambridge, 1982): 47–61. 118 Quotation from Trublet, Essais II, 428–9. The chapters cited are: Trublet Essais I, 309–63; II, 425–40. The quotation, in better English than mine, is from the 1744 London edition of the Essais entitled Essays upon Several Subjects of Literature and Morality, 187–8. 119 Trublet, Essays, 163. 120 See Niderst, “Modernisme et Catholicisme,” 305. 121 Abbé Nicolas-Charles-Joseph Trublet, Panégyriques des saints (Paris, 1764): 288. 122 He goes on: “Cette tendresse réciproque entre le Pasteur & les Ouailles, faisoit une grande partie de l’Eloquence du célèbre Archevêque de Cambray” [Trublet, Panégyriques, 406–7]. 123 Trublet, Panégyriques, 295. 124 St. Augustine wrote “A certain orator has rightly said that ‘an eloquent man must speak so as to teach, to delight, and to persuade.’ [quoted in Kerber, “Perfectibility and its Foreign Causes,” 79] Catholic preachers revived these techniques during the Catholic Reformation. See Gauvin Alexander Bailey, Art on the Jesuit Missions in Asia and Latin America, 8; On Trublet’s use of the term “vivacité,” see Niderst, “Modernisme et Catholicisme,” 304. 125 Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 189; Ehrard, Littérature française, 48; Pierre Naudin, “Un pédagogue enjoué: le Maître de Claville, l’Auteur du Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme,” in Philippe Koeppel, ed., Humour, ironie et humanisme dans la littérature français (Paris, 2001): 147; “Avant-propos,” in François Gevrey, Julie Boch, Jean-Louis Haquette, eds, Écrire la nature au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 2006): 13. I am very grateful to Sylvain Menant for sending me a copy of the article by Pierre Naudin. Although Claville was a layman his book appeared in many ecclesiastical libraries both in France—for example, the Abbaye d’Arrouaise [ANF, F/17*/18, 83 (Amsterdam, 1737, 2 vol.)]—and abroad (see Appendices). 126 Le Maître de Claville, Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme consideré dans tou les ages et dans toutes les conditions (Paris, 1737): 1. 127 Quoted in Naudin, “Un pedagogue enjoué,” 147–8.

50

The Spiritual Rococo

128 Le Maître de Claville, Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme considéré dans tous les âges et dans toutes les conditions (Amsterdam, 1742): 224. 129 Claville, Traité II (1742): 17, 29. 130 Claville, Traité I (1742): 239; McManners, Abbés and Actresses, 11; McManners, Church and Society, 327–8. Mauzi has postulated further Jesuit influence in the Traité by linking it to the Oráculo manual y arte de prudencia (1647) by the Spanish Jesuit Baltasar Gracián (1601–1658), which also used worldly, at times witty language to deliver moralizing maxims [Mauzi, L’idee du bonheur, 189]. On Gracián see M. Batllori, “Gracián y Morales, Baltasar,” in O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario II, 1796–7. 131 Claville, Traité I (1742): 258. See also Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 191; Pekacz, “The Salonnières 282–3. 132 For his definition of Merit see Claville, Traité (1742): 54–5, 62. 133 Courtin, Nouveau traité, 175. 134 Claville, Traité (1742): 177. 135 Mimi Hellman, “Furniture, Sociability, and the Work of Leisure in Eighteenth-Century France,” in Eighteenth-Century Studies 32, 4 (1999): 432. 136 On Morvan de Bellegarde see McManners, Church and Society, 242; and Jolanta T. Pekacz, Conservative Tradition in Pre-Revolutionary France (New York, 1999): 21–3. 137 Frédéric Charbonneau, ed., L’art d’écrire la science: anthologie de textes savants du XVIIIe siècle français (Rennes, 2006): 136; Frédéric Lefebvre, “La vertu des images. Analogie, proportion et métaphore dans la genèse des sciences socials au XVIIIe siècle,” Revue de Synthèse 121, 1–2 (January 2000): 49. On the debate at the Académie, see Jorge Cañizares-Esguerra, How to Write a History of the New World (Stanford, 2001): 101–2. 138 Alessandro Zanconato, Le dispute du fatalisme en France, 1730–1760 (Fasano, 2004): 115–17; Charbonneau, L’art d’écrire la science, 136. 139 Louis-Jean Lévésque de Pouilly, The Theory of Agreeable Sensations (Edinburgh, 1766): 153–4; Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 189; Ehrard, Littérature française, 48; Robert Mauzi and Sylvain Menant, Littérature française: le XVIIIe siècle II, 1750–1778 (Paris, 1977): 64; Zanconato, Le dispute, 117. 140 Lévésque, The Theory of Agreeable Sensations, 10, 129–31. Later on he continues “His bounty is made manifest by the care which he has taken, not only to provide for us what is necessary, but likewise what is convenient and agreeable; and this care of his shines forth in all the laws of sensation” [Lévésque, The Theory of Agreeable Sensations, 148]. 141 Lévésque, The Theory of Agreeable Sensations, 149. 142 Candice E. Proctor, Women, Equality, and the French Revolution (Westport, 1990): 21, 39, note 2; Jean-Jacques Courtine and Claudine Haroche, “Présentation,” in Abbé Dinouart, L’art de se taire (Jean-Jacques Courtine and Claudine Haroche eds., Grenoble, 1987): 5-6; Marc Angenot, Les champions des femmes (Quebec City, 1977): 4, 79; Jane Abray, “Feminism in the French Revolution,” The American Historical Review 80, 1 (February 1975): 44. 143 Angenot, Les champions des femmes, 143. 144 Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint Dinouart, L’éloquence du corps dans la ministère de la chaire, ou l’action du prédicateur (Paris, 1754): 34, 35, 145. 145 Dinouart, L’éloquence du corps, 49–50. 146 Fumaroli, Quand l’Europe parlait français, 324. See also Martine Jacques, “L.-A. Caraccioli et son oeuvre: la mesure d’une avancée de la pensée chrétienne vers les lumières,” Dix-huitieme siècle 34 (2002): 289–302. 147 Fumaroli, Quand l’Europe parlait français, 323–44; Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur, 195–7; Craveri, Age of Conversation, 290, 454; Albertan-Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 157, 169–70; Marc Fumaroli, “LouisAntoine de Caraccioli (1721–1803) et l’Europe française,” Commentaire 91 (Autumn 2000): 615–29; Jacques, “L.-A. Caraccioli et son oeuvre,” 292–3; Martine Jacques, “Le lieu et l’idée: typologie des décors dans l’oeuvre romanesque de L.-A. Caraccioli,” in Nathalie Ferrand, ed., Locus in fabula: la topique de l’espace dans les fictions françaises d’Ancien Régime (Louvain, 2004): 593; Stéphanie Géhanne Gavoty, “Le mythe des Lumières à propos d’un ‘anti-Lumières’ Clement XIV revu et corrigé,” in Jan Herman et al., eds, Les philosophes et leurs papes (Amsterdam, New York, 2009): 215. 148 Louis-Antoine Caraccioli, L’Europe française I (Turin and Paris, 1776): 61–2. 149 Fumaroli, Quand l’Europe parlait Français, 332. 150 Jacques, “Le lieu et l’idée,” 593–4.

“The Dream of Happiness”

51

151 Louis-Antoine Caraccioli, La jouissance de soi-même (Utrecht and Amsterdam: 1759): 111, 111–12. In De la gaieté he writes: “Le rire, que les faux dévots regardent comme un scandale, est une faculté qui nous distingue des animaux, un signe naturel qui dénote la joie du cœur, & que l’Ecriture ne fait point difficulté de prêter à Dieu …” [Louis-Antoine Caraccioli, De la gaieté (Frankfurt and Paris, 1762): 196]. His sentiments were echoed a year after the publication of La gaieté by prominent lawyer Antoine-François Prost de Royer, author later of the Dictionnaire de Jurisprudence (1782), who defended the necessity of happiness as a spiritual goal in a letter to Jansenist archbishop Antoine Malvin de Montazet. As paraphrased by John McManners he wrote “that the promotion of human happiness must always be included in a religion’s objectives—the presuppositions for the achievement of happiness being defined as peace, order, plenty, and the multiplication of mankind” [McManners, Church and Society, 267]. On Prost de Royer see Jean-François Perrin, “Penser l’hégémonie: intolérance et lumières dans Rousseau Juge de Jean-Jacques,” in Ourida Mostafai and John T. Scott, eds, Rousseau and L’infâme: Religion, Toleration and Fanaticism in the Age of Enlightenment (Amsterdam and New York, 2009): 282. 152 Caraccioli, De la gaieté, 83–4. 153 Caraccioli, De la gaieté, 11. 154 Caraccioli, De la gaieté, 2. 155 Calmel died in 1737 [Antoine-Alexandre Barbier, Dictionnaire des ouvrages anonymes III (Paris, 1823): 410]. 156 Père Calmel, Méthode facile pour être heureux en cette vie et assurer son bonheur éternel (Paris, 1727): 5–6. 157 Ehrard, Littérature française, 273; H. Beylard, “Buffier, Claude” in O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario I, 567–8. See also Albertan-Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 155; Burson, “The Catholic Enlightenment,” 65, 79–80. “Rationalist” Christian tracts were among the most ubiquitous Christian apologetic texts of the eighteenth century, the most famous being l’Abbé Pluche’s Le spectacle de la nature (1732–50) [Albertan-Coppola, “L’apologétique,” 171]. The 1724 Paris first edition of the Traité des premières vérités et de la source de nos jugements is included in a partial inventory of Diderot’s library [Larissa L. Albina and Anthony Strugnell, “Recherches nouvelles sur l’identification des volumes de la bibliothèque de Diderot,” Recherches sur Diderot et sur l’Encyclopédie 9 (1990): 45. Ehrard, Littérature française, 45. 158 On the latter, see Marc-André Bernier, “L’exposition dans le Traité philosophique et pratique d’éloquence,” in Edith Flamarion, ed., La chair et le verbe: les jésuites de France du XVIIIe siècle et l’image (Paris, 2008): 98–102. 159 Claude Buffier, Exposition des preuves les plus sensibles de la véritable religion (Paris: 1732): 6, 7–9. 160 L’Abbé Lamourette, Les délices de la religion ou le pouvoir de l’évangile pour nous rendre heureux (Paris, 1788). This book does not appear in Mauzi’s study. It is dedicated to the Marquise de Sillery, author of yet another rationalist treatise on happy Christianity entitled La religion considérée comme l’unique base du bonheur & de la véritable Philosophie. See Didier Masseau, “La position des apologistes conciliateurs,” 122; David Jan Sorkin, The Religious Enlightenment: Protestants, Jews, and Catholics from London to Vienna (Princeton, 2008): 10–11; 266–74. 161 Sorkel, The Religious Enlightenment, 12. 162 Sorkin, The Religious Enlightenment, 266. 163 Lamourette, Les délices, li. 164 Claude Yvon, Histoire de la religion où l’on accorde la philosophie avec le christianisme (Paris, 1785) I, 2. See also Didier Masseau, “Les apologistes conciliateurs,” 123. 165 Yvon, Histoire de la religion I, 1. 166 McManners, Church and Society, 76. 167 Paul C. Gutjahr, An American Bible: A History of the Good Book in the United States, 1777–1880, Stanford, 1999, 49. 168 Sorkin, The Religious Enlightenment, 263–6.

2 “As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”:1 Rococo in France

On the sixth of October 1777 Marie-Thérèse Rodet Geoffrin died of a stroke suffered during a sermon in the church of Saint-Roch on Rue Saint-Honoré, the most fashionable in Paris and a place where she made note of topics for her luncheons.2 History has not recorded the name of the preacher who delivered the homily that Sunday, but we do know what the pulpit looked like—or at least the canopy, which was restored to its original location after the Revolution (Fig. 2.1). Designed by the sculptor Simon Challe (1719–1765) and constructed between 1752 and 1758, this paragon of artifice culminates in a sweeping plaster tapestry suspended by gilded stucco ribbons tied in delicate knots and supported by a gilded bronze angel atop a cloudburst, proffering a palm branch in one hand and a trumpet in the other.3 Glittering, illusionistic, and luxurious it is the most flamboyant pulpit of eighteenth-century Paris and an apt symbol of the intimate ties that bound décor to conversation, polite society, and spirituality. No style in Western art is more closely linked to sociability than the Rococo, born in the crucible of eighteenth-century society, the Parisian townhouse or hôtel particulier.4 Unlike earlier styles with origins in the figural arts Rococo emerged from the very walls, ceilings, and furnishings of the rooms where people met, had conversations, danced, and partook of the myriad other activities that punctuated their day. Since it shied away from overt iconography in favor of an almost abstract rhythm of patterns and motifs, mostly taken from the natural world, Rococo was able to insinuate itself into a setting almost subconsciously, creating atmospheres and moods barely perceptible to the people inside it. Unlike Baroque interiors that used perspectival tricks and energetic narrative imagery to direct the eye Rococo decorative schemes encouraged viewers freely to look around the room, glancing at different places according to the time of day or serendipity of the moment in a way that recalled the way people talked. In fact scholars have long noted its similarities to the papillotage or badinage of Rococo banter as reflected in literary works like Denis Diderot’s novel Jacques le fataliste (1778–1780) or lampooned by Louis-Antoine Caraccioli in his “variegated book” Livre des quatre couleurs (1760), a paean to the short attention span with chapters on the fan, the

54

2.1 Simon Challe, The Genius of Truth Lifting the Veil from Error, pulpit of the Church of SaintHonoré, Paris, 1752–1758. Photo: Author.

The Spiritual Rococo

toilette, and etiquette, and which satirizes everyone from Voltaire and Rousseau to the elderly society ladies of the Rue du Temple—it even culminates in the statues of a fictitious “Order of Frivolity.”5 Philippe Minguet characterizes the style succinctly: “sometimes the protagonists slip into other topics, philosophical or others; sometimes they tell some other stories made up of other dialogues; sometimes, going along their journey, they bump into other people which whom they chat or who tell them other stories, most often in the form of a dialogue; sometimes the author, more or less abruptly cutting off the train of events, engages in conversation with the reader.”6 Mary Sheriff also compares the “fragmentation of attention, a flickering between illusion and awareness” of Rococo décor to Rococo poetry, which “oscillates between the superficial, seemingly haphazard surface and the underlying metrical structure.”7 In short, Rococo is the visual manifestation of the art of conversation. Rococo also operated on a physical and metaphysical level. Visitors would feel refreshed by Rococo’s pastoral references, soft colors, and the bright light admitted by its massive windows and reflected in its mirrors.8 In fact architectural theorists such as Nicolas Le Camus de Mézières (1780) insisted that architectural interiors had a direct salutary impact upon the body and the senses. 9 Visitors experienced euphoria not only through the elegant proportions of the rooms but also by means of the increasing sensation of opulence provided by the interior spaces through which they passed on their way toward the salon, alternately provoking and fulfilling desire and culminating in a feeling of happiness (jouissance). This idea of Rococo as a style that invites participation and fully reveals itself only through progressive movement takes on an explicitly religious function in Central Europe, as we will see in Chapter 3. In French literature the visual and spatial seduction of Rococo interiors could become overtly erotic. In JeanFrançois de Bastide’s libertine novelette La petite maison (1758)—it reflects the author’s long collaboration with architect Jacques-François Blondel (1705– 1774)—a young woman named Mélite is literally seduced by the décor of a petite maison, or country pleasure house, which takes over from her flesh-and-bones pursuer Trémicour and in the end provokes her to fall into a helpless swoon of shudders and sighs. The author uses painstakingly described Rococo interiors

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

55

as a way of “holding eroticism within the bounds of propriety, or convenance,” as Anthony Wilder puts it, décor like polite conversation mediating between passion and politesse.10 Rococo designers often sought the sensation of being inside a pleasure pavilion, evoking the structures of garden architecture through leafy pergolas, plants, fountains, and birds.11 Designs for wall panels like those of Gilles-Marie Oppenord (ca. 1748) published by Gabriel Huquier or the five large-scale canvases painted by Jean-Honoré Fragonard for the townhouse of Louis-Pierre-Sébastien Marchal de Sainscy on the Rue des Fossés in Paris (1775) brought the outdoors inside, their garden landscapes positioned so that the visitor felt she could step out of the salon into pastoral parkland and encouraging her to meditate on the relationship between interior and exterior and culture and nature (Fig. 2.2).12 In the Sainscy series the invitation to enter the picture is enhanced by hiding or lowering the painted fences and balustrades, minimizing the boundary between our space and the wilderness, which draws us forward with its tunneling perspective. In a similar series called the Progress of Love (1771–1772) painted for a vestibule adjacent the Salon du Roi in Madame du Barry’s garden pavilion at Louveciennes, Fragonard went further, placing pastoral narrative scenes in strategic locations inside a garden pavilion to create, in Sheriff’s words, an “interplay between the actual garden and the fictive one.”13 By juxtaposing painted figures of lovers in garden settings with real-life visitors, mimicking the latters’ movements, and prompting individualized emotional responses, the two panels flanking the garden entrance (The Meeting and The Pursuit) evoke the anticipation of a romantic tryst in a pastoral setting while the other two (The Lover Crowned and The Love Letters), seen upon returning inside, arouse the nostalgic wistfulness of remembered love. Similar rooms were executed in the buildings of the false hamlets, or hameaux, first built in the gardens at Chantilly in 1774 and later adopted by Queen Marie Antoinette at Versailles (1783): the most literal manifestation of the concept of rural escape, these complexes have recently been shown by Meredith Martin to combine ideals of virtue, domesticated femininity, and industry with sense of freedom and a Rousseauian belief in the curative quality of the countryside.14 Some patrons took the idea of the bucolic interior to greater extremes as when the Venetian ambassador furnished the grand salon of his Parisian house with, in the words of Madame de Noyer (1761), “several allées of orange trees and four fountains of orange-flower water. The scent filled the entire room, which agreeably surprised everyone there.”15 These light-drenched, nature-filled settings also echo the writers of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason, for whom light was a metaphor for Divinity and nature an Arcadian refuge, and they share ideologies of morality and virtue. But they primarily do not do so using Christian imagery or even through a kind of Northern Renaissance disguised symbolism in which everyday objects take on religious meanings. Rococo’s celebration of nature, love, and happiness is intentionally nonspecific and therefore harder

2.2 Jean-Honoré Fragonard, The Swing, ca. 1775/1780. Washington, DC, National Gallery of Art

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

57

to pin down. Evoking the senses as well as the intellect it mimics the kind of interactive, conciliatory, free-thinking approach to community that lay at the foundation of polite society. Rococo was born around 1699 when, after Louis XIV stopped contributing to their expenses, the nobility started asserting their independence from the stranglehold of Versailles ceremonial. With the temporary return of the court to Paris under the regency of the duc d’Orleans (ruled 1715–1722) aristocrats sought a relaxed livability in what has been called the “revenge of Paris.”16 They redecorated their châteaux at Sceaux and Rambouillet and rebuilt or redecorated their houses in the Place de Nos Conquêtes (now Place Vendôme) and the new Faubourgs Saint-Honoré and Saint-Germain in a style that better reflected the newly informal way of life.17 Jean-Aymar Piganiol de La Force (1673–1753), author of a mid-eighteenth-century guidebook to Paris, commented that “never had so much building gone on in Paris and in the Faubourgs than during the minority of Louis XV.”18 Unlike the Baroque palace in which rooms had standard (usually rectilinear) shapes and décor and changed function through a quick switch of furniture, Rococo spaces were created for specific purposes and were proportioned and shaped accordingly (the term convenance, or suitability, was first applied to rooms in 1702).19 Houses were divided into zones of what Richard Etlin calls “display and retreat,” with rooms devoted to ceremony and others given over to private functions.20 Modest enfilades arranged along the cross axes of the house and focusing upon the salon—the main space for entertaining—formed the public area, divided into the appartement de parade (for visits in the morning) and appartement de société (for visits in the afternoon) (Fig. 2.3). Except for their designations for specific uses (such as ballrooms or concert rooms) and their correspondingly specialized décor, these display rooms were not much different in concept from those of Baroque palaces. The real novelty lay in the space of retreat where people increasingly sought a private life: the appartement de commodité, or private quarters. Composed of clusters of low-ceilinged rooms of varying sizes, degrees of intimacy, and opulence, they included the first purpose-built dining rooms and separate bathrooms and even the furniture was specialized to create an orderly yet flexible framework for human interaction.21 The appartement de commodité was also easier to heat, so that the inhabitants no longer had to catch the flu in draughty public bedrooms.22 The appartement de commodité was devoted not merely to privacy but also to a sensation of happiness, gentility, sensuality, and refuge. Novelist Jacques-Rochette de La Morlière (1719–1785) characterized Louis XV’s Petit Appartement at Versailles (begun 1735) as “a series of charming little rooms … created to give a natural idea of all the different degrees of voluptuous pleasure” (Fig. 2.4).23 Concerned with their decoration, Du Perron, in his Discourse sur la peinture et sur l’architecture dédié à Madame de Pompadour (1758) specifically called for playful and pastoral imagery in these private spaces:

58

The Spiritual Rococo

It is there that the brush must exhaust all the seductions of sensual pleasure; myrtles, roses, groves, fields carpeted with green, the countryside where the splendor of the most vivid colors shines, these must adorn these sorts of rooms. There, the agreeable spectacle and the pleasure of a garden that art has taken care to decorate can offer itself, here it is the picture of Nature’s artless charms and charming disorder.24

2.3 Plan of the Rez-de-Chaussée at the Hôtel de Lassay, Paris, from Architecture Françoise (Paris, 1727). Collection: Author

Eighteenth-century writers used terms reflecting health and comfort like jeunesse, gentilesse, légèreté, commodité, and agréable to characterize the Rococo: such was Blondel’s entry on “Distribution, (Architecture)” in the Diderot/ d’Alembert 1751 Encyclopédie, in which he wrote that correct arrangement of interior rooms should focus on “comfort (commodité) & decorum (bienséance).”25 Abbé Jean-Baptiste Du Bos in his Réflexions critiques sur la poésie et sur la peinture (1732), saw Rococo décor specifically as a vehicle for happiness achieved by eliciting and fulfilling desires: “Could not art … fashion creatures of a new nature? Could it not produce objects capable of exciting passions within us the moment we feel them …?”26 But as in the treatises of the Spiritual Rococo the happiness of these interiors was not simply one of libertinage or even healthy euphoria: as Katie Scott notes, “in its widest sense [it] was not a matter of personal and private gratification but a public act of social responsibility.”27 Rococo’s affiliation with polite society is most precisely manifested by the décor of the salon (salon de compagnie), the space where the eponymous social gatherings took place.28 As noted in Chapter 1 the prototype was Mme de Rambouillet’s Blue Room, the bedroom where she received her guests (at the time it was customary to welcome visitors in the bedroom, or chambre de parade), directing the proceedings from her daybed in the adjacent ruelle,

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

59

2.4 Jacques Verberckt and others, Cabinet intérieur du Roi, Versailles, boiseries executed in 1753. Photo: Author

or alcove.29 She softened the cool opulence of the interior with decorative fabrics of blue brocade embroidered in silver and gold to make the space feel like a refuge, serving “an aristocracy in nostalgic retreat” in emulation of the Petrarchan (and Ciceronian) ideal of otium: the “dream of happiness” noted in Rémy Saisselin’s classic study.30 This dual effect of sanctuary and luxury affected the surroundings of social gatherings in the following century when increasing numbers of guests necessitated a move away from the ruelle to the salon, the most richly and cheerfully decorated room in the house which was often circular or oval in form to allow visitors to focus their attention upon their host at the center.31 Some, like Mme Rambouillet’s original ruelle, created a more relaxed atmosphere through fabrics, as in Mme Du Deffand’s salon at the convent of Saint-Joseph, “hung with yellow moiré and dotted with fire-red bows.”32 Others championed the specific activities of their owners: in the case of Mme Geoffrin she advertised her dedication to art patronage by hanging so many paintings on the wall that it “resembled the space of an auction house.”33 Many of her paintings were landscapes and the overall effect of Mme Geoffrin’s salon would also have evoked a pastoral retreat.

Origins and Development of the Rococo, the “Goût Moderne” Although Rococo décor was no mere derivative of the Baroque as its detractors claimed—eighteenth-century critics directly blamed its “bizarrerie” specifically on Francesco Borromini (1599–1667) and Pietro da Cortona

60

2.5 Paulus van Vianen, “Diana Plate,” Dutch, 1613. Silver. Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum 2.6 Jean Bérain, Two Grotesques (engraving). Published by Jeremias Wolff, Augsburg, ca. 1708–1724. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

The Spiritual Rococo

(1596–1669)—it did not arise out of a vacuum.34 In the Introduction we have seen that rocailles and coquillages come from Italian Mannerist garden design and Dutch naturalia cabinets. Similarly the cartouche, another signature Rococo motif, descended from the Italian Renaissance cartoccio, a heraldic devise formed of false scrolled parchment, which was especially popular in Northern Europe, and Rococo’s penchant for metamorphic forms—plants turning into animals, rocks into water, or frames into narratives—comes from melted-wax-like “auricular” (literally “earshaped”) frames and freeform silver and gold objects associated with the Utrecht silversmiths Adam (1568–1627) and Paulus van Vianen (ca. 1570–1613) (Fig. 2.5).35 Rococo’s delicacy and playfulness grew out of the grotesques (grotteschi) of Roman wall painting refracted through Raphael’s Vatican loggie (1517) with their symmetrical interlace patterns of ribbons, scrolls, tendrils, and tiny figures as revived at the turn of the eighteenth century by proto-Rococo designers Jean Bérain (1637–1711) and Pierre Lepautre (ca. 1648–1716) (Fig. 2.6).36 Rococo also borrowed from contemporary developments: its propensity for oblique perspective with multiple vanishing points (known as a scena per angolo) comes from inventions by the Italian set designer Ferdinando Galli Bibiena (1656–1743; Fig. 2.7), widely disseminated through his manual L’archittetura civile (1711).37 Unlike the Baroque the Rococo has an ambiguous relationship with architecture. One of the few styles in Western art to derive from interior décor, in France at least it rarely

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

61

appears on the outside of buildings: the exteriors of even such opulent rococo spaces as the Salon Blanc at the Hôtel de Roquelaure in Paris (1722–1724) are strikingly plain with classical, rectilinear lines and almost no ornament (Figs. 2.8, 2.15). Where they existed Rococo motifs were relegated to doorways and window surrounds, as at the Maison Eynaud (1717–1721) on the Rue de l’Arbre-Sec, with its subtle cartouche scrolls over the windows (Fig. 2.9), although they are more frequent in the eighteenth-century townhouses of Aixen-Provence—second only to Paris in its volume of Rococo interiors—notably the Hôtel de Rimbaud, home of the sculptor Jean-Philippe Rimbaud, which featured decorative panels of cupids and animals over its first floor windows.38 As architect Germain Boffrand (1667–1754) wrote in 1737: “[p]resently in Paris the interior decorations of appartements constitute a considerable part of the architecture: they neglect exterior decoration.”39 Rococo did not even allow much that could be called architecture into its interiors. Designers largely abandoned the classical orders and instead used gilded moldings as the primary means of compartmentalizing walls, mirrors, paintings, coves (concave cornices), overdoors, and ornamental panels.40 Thus the frame, not the column, became the defining component of the style: in fact columns typically

2.7 Ferdinando Galli Bibiena, A palatial interior with archways, supported by columns and a staircase. Pen and brown ink and grey wash, over graphite. London, British Museum

62

2.8 Pierre Lassurance and others, Hôtel de Roquelaure, Paris, exterior of Salon Blanc, 1722–1724. Photo: Author

2.9 Decorative window motif, Maison Eynaud, Rue de l’ArbreSec, Paris, 1717–1721. Photo: Author

The Spiritual Rococo

disappeared altogether, pilasters and cornices shrank into ribbon-like bands, and plain walls in soft colors like off-white, yellow, or celadon green highlighted the spider’s web of painted or gilded scrolls, garlands, shells, medallions, trellises, trophies, and fantasy motifs that adorned its surfaces. Such is the boudoir at the Chateau de Rambouillet (1730–1736) (Fig. 2.10). Its luscious boiseries by Jacques Verberckt create a mesh of strikingly naturalistic interweaving twigs, flowers, vines, and trellises in milky white, which are organized into panels on the walls and cove and frame the windows and mantelpiece mirror—as the only gilded element in the interior the latter provides a dramatic spark of color.41 The room is a bucolic refuge for the senses and I cannot help but be reminded of the interiors of the so-called “pleasure-dairies” in French royal gardens with their veneration of milk and milk products for their salutary effects—in fact there is one on the property at Rambouillet, although it was built much later, in 1786–1787, after the land was acquired by Louis XVI.42 Rococo is anti-architectonic in its materials as well: in place of stone and marble it employs lightweight materials like woodwork (called boiseries, usually made of oak), stucco, and textiles.43 It also relegates figural sculpture and painting—the building blocks of Baroque décor—to secondary roles. Gone are the massive caryatids or expansive frescoes of Versailles: Anne-ClaudePhilippe, the comte de Caylus commented in his Éloge des sculpteurs du Grand Siècle (1749) that “our fathers loved to see themselves surrounded with Fables, Poetry, and the Arts whereas a white wall, which one could not find before

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

63

except in the wardrobes or in a bathroom, is now the uniform of our greatest houses; one might say that sculpture has been banished; painting is not treated any better: there is no other place for it than in some overdoors.”44 Rococo minimizes its motifs—Minguet speaks of “petitesse”—decreasing their significance yet multiplying their number and giving interiors a visual and at times narrative ambiguity that reflects contemporary developments in painting, as I will soon explore.45 One of the reasons Rococo departed so much from the rules of architecture is that its main creators—even those who later practiced as architects—trained in the decorative arts and had no qualms about circumventing architecture’s more conservative rules.46 Dorothea Nyberg derives the fantastic nature of Rococo specifically from the art of the silversmith, since auricular forms came from that medium and some of the most prominent Rococo designers, notably Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier (1695–1750), trained first as silversmiths: “the precious metals of gold and silver … are particularly susceptible to a fanciful treatment … the virtuosity of technique that is so typically a part of the appeal of fine works wrought in precious metals was, in the eighteenth century, a much prized element of aesthetic appreciation …” (Figs. 2.11, 2.13, 2.33, 4.1, 5.21, Plate 3).47 Rococo’s origin as décor also made it possible for designers to emancipate rocailles or cartouches from merely ornamental roles and allow them to stand alone as subjects in their own right, at times even taking on a pseudo-narrative function.

2.10 Jacques Verberckt and others, boudoir, Chateau de Rambouillet, 1730–1736. Photo: Author

64

The Spiritual Rococo

2.11  Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Morceau de fantasie, from the Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1734). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-258. F.G. Waller-Fonds

Yet Rococo was no less strict than Baroque: the compartmentalization of Rococo rooms was precise, each zone meticulously separated from the other with moldings, and harmoniously balanced through size ratios and patterns. The cheminée, or central mantelpiece panel and focus of the room, is the Rococo equivalent of the column/capital/entablature unit in a Classical order: together with the panels usually shown flanking it in engraved models it serves as a blueprint for the stylistic mode of the entire room, including the basic proportions and principle motifs needed to give designers the tools to recreate an interior (Fig. 2.12). Minguet characterizes the Rococo interior as a “unity of entanglement” (unité d’enchevêtrement) but this entanglement should not be confused with horror vacui—a label often applied to Rococo interiors but in fact more typical of certain kinds of Baroque spaces. The bareness of Rococo surfaces is as critical as the décor which they serve to highlight, as in music where the rests are as important as the notes.48 Rococo interiors were harmonized across a formidable spectrum of media, from paintings and boiseries to wall sconces and decorative textiles. Consequently Rococo projects involved an army of specialists, including the architect-designer, figural sculptors, painters, master joiners (maîtres menuisiers), ornamental sculptors, stucco artists, house painters, gilders, upholsterers, tapestry weavers, and furniture-makers.49 In his Tableau de Paris (1781), Louis-Sébastien Mercier commented: “When a house has been built, nothing has yet been done; one has not reached a fraction of the expense. Then comes the menuisier, the upholsterer, the painter, the gilder, the sculptor, the ébéniste [cabinetmaker] and so on … The interior takes three times longer than the construction of the hotel; the antechambers, hidden staircases, closets, and conveniences are endless.”50 Another reason that these interiors achieved such an effect of unity is that the craftsmen and artists were often competent in multiple media.51 Meissonnier, GillesMarie Oppenord (1672–1742), Bernard Toro (1672–1731), and PierreEdmé Babel (ca. 1720–1770) were all capable goldsmiths, silversmiths, draftsmen, painters, sculptors, cabinetmakers, engravers and architects.52 More so perhaps than any earlier style, Rococo was a group effort.

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

65

The “Genre Pittoresque” Early Rococo was a refined, muted, symmetrical style. But starting in the 1730s with the so-called genre pittoresque Rococo began embracing asymmetry and its forms became more naturalistic and protean as décor increasingly asserted itself as a life force of its own.53 Metamorphosis in particular became the new preoccupation. The genre pittoresque was invented by three designers: Nicholas Pineau (1684–1754), Jacques Lajoüe (1686–1761), and Meissonnier— in fact Wend von Kalnein traces it to a single candelabrum by Meissonnier from 1728, which for the first time used asymmetry in Rococo design.54 Yet French Rococo asymmetry is rarely total so that an individual irregular motif was usually balanced by its mirror-image somewhere else in the decorative scheme, precisely the aesthetic Edmé-François Gersaint meant by “harmonious irregularity.”55 Except for the work of Pineau, which was subtler than the others, the new style did not appeal to French taste and the main impact of the genre pittoresque was felt in Central Europe, Portugal, and parts of Latin America where bulkier, unique asymmetrical forms became the norm. Meissonnier and Lajoüe gave individual motifs an architectural monumentality—although usually only in engravings or sketches in ink or oil. Meissonnier’s so-called morceaux de caprice or de fantaisie fused perspective architecture and stage and garden scenery on oblique angles with statues, rockwork, cascades, and other natural forms into an asymmetrical cartouche (Fig. 2.11).56 He was one of the first to depict cartouches on a grand scale, peopling them with figures and setting them atop staircases and fountains. In his heyday Meissonnier was one of the most respected ornemenistes in France, and was elected Orfèvre du Roi (Royal Gold- and Silversmith) in 1725 and Dessinateur de la Chambre et du Cabinet du Roi (Designer of the Bedroom and Cabinet of the King) in 1726.57 The latter position gave him direct contact with the innermost circles of the court and gained him prestigious commissions like that of the King of Portugal, which guaranteed his lasting popularity in that country (Fig. 4.1).58 His international reputation was secured with the publication of his wildly popular Livre d’ornemens (Paris, 1734), which illustrated executed works alongside fantasy cartouches. Meissonnier’s most important executed work, the interior of a large public room (1730–1734), for the Polish Count Franciszek Bieliński (1684–1766)—it is popularly known as the Bieliński Cabinet—was exhibited for two years (1735–1736) at the Tuileries to general acclamation before being shipped to his townhouse in Warsaw and is as important a benchmark in the history of the Rococo as the Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise (Figs. 2.13, 2.21).59 According to Peter Fuhring it “may well have been the first exhibition of decorative arts in Western Europe.”60 In the longest (and one of the earliest) reviews of a single Rococo work of art an anonymous critic in the Mercure de France (July 1736) praised the Cabinet as a work in which “Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture are found employed with great discernment and taste” that would give Poland “a very advantageous idea of the progress of the Fine

2.12 François de Cuvilliés, Chemineé decorée de glaces, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

2.13 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Cabinet de Mr. Le Comte Bielinski Grand Marechal de la Couronne de Pologne executé en 1734, from the Quatorzième livre des Oeuvres de J.A. Meissonnier (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1747–1748). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-331. F.G. Waller-Fonds

68

The Spiritual Rococo

2.14 Jacques Lajoüe, fantasy cartouche from Nouveaux tableaux d’ornements et rocailles (engraving). Published by Gabriel Huquier, Paris, ca. 1734. Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

Arts in France.”61 Written in meticulous and loving detail the review noted the “absolute” novelty with which the artist unites painting with sculpture and the harmony maintained between fine and decorative arts. By contrast Meissonnier’s obituary, printed in the same journal (October 1750), reflected changing fashions by giving Meissonnier only faint praise for his “fertile imagination” and criticizing him for errors in good taste: “he had become seduced by the taste of Borromini.”62 By that time Meissonnier was already widely criticized for a perceived lack of French taste in his work, particularly by architects: his harshest detractor, Charles-Nicholas Cochin (1715–1790), commented in 1755 that the designer committed the sin of “destroy[ing] all the straight lines that were the old usage.”63 Lajoüe’s pseudo-architectural creations and asymmetrical cartouches, similar in concept to Meissonnier’s morceaux, were rapidly and widely distributed through his little oil sketches and especially his printed folios with titles like Cartouches, Cartouches de guerre, Livre de buffets, and Livre nouveau de douze morceaux de fantaisie (all published in the 1730s) (Fig. 2.14). Lajoüe enjoyed a similarly high reputation (he exhibited several times at the Salon at the Louvre) and he made his mark with two major projects: the illusionistic perspectival decoration in the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève (1731–1732) and a library and curiosity cabinet for the connoisseur Joseph Bonnier de la Mosson (1734).64 In engraved models such as his Livre nouveau de divers morceaux de fantaisie (1736), Lajoüe shares Meissonnier’s love for massiveness, curvilinear contours, splashing cascades, and fusions of vegetal and mineral forms, and of architecture and landscape. Lajoüe’s creations are more pastoral, with a greater focus on waterworks and forest glades although he also favors stagelike architectural settings on oblique angles in which the piers, arches, and entablatures gently curve into C-scrolls.

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

69

Because he worked in a more reticent style that appealed to French taste, Pineau completed more interiors (primarily in the 1730s and 1740s) than either Lajoüe or Meissonnier. His style featured a network of delicate tendrils, ribbons, and garlands that creep, vine-like, up walls and around mirrors, as in the Salon Blanc at the Hôtel de Roquelaure (1733) (Fig. 2.15).65 However Pineau is merely restrained, not bland: a close inspection of the extremities of the panels in the Salon Blanc reveals playful tangles of scrolls, asymmetrical details, and naturalistic elements like turtle doves, flowering branches, and fruit that reveal close observation of the natural world. Smooth moldings have been replaced by ones entwined with plant parts, and he promotes ambiguities between subject and ornament. Blondel wrote this about Pineau and his followers in 1754: “Never before has such elegance of form, such beauty of execution and such richness of material been handled with such sureness of taste.”66 This kind of cheerfulness and celebration of nature was precisely suited to the values of polite society, who appreciated wit, sensuality, and a sense of euphoric retreat. The three signature components of Rococo style are rockery, shellwork (both usually just referred to as rocaille) and the cartouche.67 They are impossible to separate as any one motif is a fusion of two or more of them, but the rocky elements are the pockmarked, lumpy surfaces, sometimes with stalactites attached, and the shells provide the scalloping and spiked contours. Typical is this invention from Jean Mondon’s Quatrième livre de formes ornées de rocailles … (1736), in which an oversized asymmetrical object formed of natural and man-made elements—shell formations, plant-parts, and pieces of architecture such as cornices and scrolls—accommodates a scene of exotically dressed figures and fantastic animals. Although individual shells can be made out— particularly the jagged-edged shell teetering on top of the composition— the rockwork is less well-defined (Fig. 2.16). Like most Rococo designers Mondon does not restrict his motif’s use: it can form part of a boiserie in a Paris townhouse, a detail of a piece of furniture, an element of garden design, or a piece of silver (Fig. 5.33). Many rocailles take the form of a cartouche (Fig. 2.17, 4.10). Like Rococo décor as a whole the cartouche represents the conquest of frame over picture, since even when it contains an image or text—in fact the center is frequently empty—they are of secondary importance to the cartouche, which takes on a pictorial, at times even narrative, role of its own. Babel was the king of the cartouche, publishing inventions on an architectural scale, which play with the tension between frame and picture and between greatness and diminutiveness that would also characterize Germanic Rococo and which Hermann Bauer calls “mikromegalisch” (large/small)—the term derives from the hero of Voltaire’s story Micromegas (1752) in which a giant from outer space visits the earth.68 This cartouche, taken from a series of sheets in which the forms are incorporated into plinths and obelisks, is made of a bulky tangle of twisting scrolls, shells, posies, blossoming twigs, and fish scales (Fig. 2.17, see also 3.35).69 For Bauer and Hans Sedlmayr these forms make

2.15 Nicolas Pineau, boiseries in the Salon Blanc at the Hôtel de Roquelaure, Paris, 1733. Photo: Author

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

71

2.16 Jean Mondon, fantasy rocaille from Quatrième livre de formes ornées de rocailles… (Paris, Antoine Aveline, 1736). Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale de France

ironic statements that challenge our preconceptions about object and ornament so that “[o]rnamental logic and pictorial logic come into conflict, interpenetrate, and result not in a separation of the two but rather in a clash that becomes a formal principle … ornament and picture are mingled without neutralizing each other.”70 I will consider this function of the cartouche in greater detail in Chapter 3 since in Central Europe these ambiguities will be harnessed for religious ends. The genre pittoresque also embraced Chinoiserie, a vogue for motifs and styles inspired by Asian ceramics, textiles, and lacquers and that encompassed singeries (monkey imagery) in which primates substituted for human figures.71

72

2.17 PierreEdmé Babel, fantasy cartouche from Cartouches pour estre acompagnés de suports et trophées (Paris, mid-eighteenth century). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

The Spiritual Rococo

Although inspired by the colors and motifs of Chinese and Indian decorative arts Chinoiserie is not meant to be an accurate representation of Asia. Instead, like the objects in a curiosity cabinet, it is a fantasy pastiche—an “Orient de rêve”—in which these “exotic” figures merged with quintessentially Rococo forms. They are shown relaxing in bucolic settings dotted with fountains and pagodas, bundled into trophies, woven into arabesques, and balanced asymmetrically on cartouches, as in the engraved inventions of Mondon and Alexis Peyrotte (Figs. 2.16, 4.10) and Jean-Baptiste Pillement or the paintings of Christophe Huet, such as his panels in the Grande Singerie at Chantilly (Fig. 2.18).72 A contract from the 1750s drawn up by Mme d’Arby for Pierre Goussard attests to the intimate relationship this kind of imagery had with decorative schemes: it calls for 13 paintings (seven overdoors and six large-scale wall panels) to be fitted into the existing boiseries of the rooms in her château at Stors with: “Chinese figures striking different poses, with Chinese children, houses and trees and other accessories also painted à la chinoise in blue cameo on a white ground.”73 Many chinoiserie interiors functioned as cabinets for displaying Asian objects, their designers attempting to blend the surrounding décor with the porcelains, miniatures, and lacquers on display inside special compartments in the walls. Jean-Antoine Watteau was one of the earliest designers of chinoiseries, which he published in his Figures chinoises et Tartares, destinées au Cabinet du Roy au château de la Meute, and another pioneer publication in this genre was Mondon’s Ornements chinois (1736).74 A witty reflection and gentle critique of the social activities taking place within the rooms they adorned, Chinoiserie and singeries played into the same desire for escape, Arcadian refuge, and kind-hearted humor that motivated designers to make interiors look like garden pavilions or forest landscapes. Rococo décor would have been a footnote in the history of French domestic architecture had it not been for the hundreds of folios featuring thousands of engravings of domestic interiors, cheminées, pulpits, altars, confessionals, trophies, fountains, chinoiseries, singeries, arabesques, fantasy cartouches, and rocailles published over three decades by the printers of the Rue Saint-Jacques neighborhood and distributed worldwide. No other style to date had produced

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

73

such a prodigious amount of ornamental prints: as Ebba Krull aptly puts it, “were nothing to survive of the Rococo other than its printed models one would still have an almost complete overview of this style.”75 The work of over 75 printmakers, painters, sculptors, goldsmiths, and architects— from the famous (François Boucher) to the obscure (Jean-Dominique-Etienne Le Canu, active 1750–1770)—the corpus of engravings from the Rue Saint-Jacques has left us with a bewildering quantity and variety of patterns that present a challenge not only through confusions over authorship and dating but also because few of the so called “books” (livres) are really books at all but simple folios inconsistent both in compass and content.76 No comprehensive catalogue of these images has yet been attempted, and I doubt that one ever will, given the effect of “vertigo” (the term is Roland Michel’s) caused by their sheer volume.77 I personally have photographed almost 5,000 Rococo ornamental prints from Paris and Augsburg (on the even more prodigious Augsburg presses see Chapter 3) and even taking into account that many are re-editions and duplicates, the number is overwhelming. The main printers responsible for what Scott justly calls “an aggressively fashionable enterprise” were Antoine (1691–1743) and Pierre (1710–1762) Aveline, Jean Mariette (1660–1742), Gabriel Huquier (1695–1772), and Marguerite Caillou Chéreau (fl. 1729–1755).78 Huquier was particularly important, his catalogue of engravings after Rococo designers providing the closest thing possible to a comprehensive overview of the style.79 An avid collector himself, he published Boucher, Watteau, François-Philippe Charpentier (1734–1817), Lajoüe, Peyrotte, Pineau, Bellay and—above all—Oppenord and Meissonnier, tirelessly promoting the Rococo even after it was no longer in vogue in France.80 The aspect that separates most of these suites of engravings from more traditional architecture books is that the motifs and decorative schemes were usually not intended for any single kind of interior or even medium and few derived from existing buildings or objects. Readers were even encouraged to dissect and manipulate them, whether literally, during a brief fad in the 1720s and 1730s for cutting them out with scissors and pasting them into albums or—as in the ca. 1750 Nouveau livre de principes d’ornemens after designs by Claude Gillot (1673–1722)—by distorting them with a mirror that was sold with the book so

2.18 Christophe Huet, Panel from La Grande Singerie, Château of Chantilly, 1735–1740. © RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY

74

2.19 Premier Étage, Hôtel de Soubise, from JacquesFrançois Blondel, Architecture Françoise (Paris, 1752–1756). Houghton Library, Harvard University

The Spiritual Rococo

that (in Huquier’s words) the reader can “place it vertically on the engraving and turn it gently in all directions clockwise and counter clockwise and you will discover an infinite number of regular forms which your eyes cannot see without this aid, it is thus that the artist can choose those which serve him the best.”81 Many Rococo ornamental engravings were not meant to be used at all but rather to be admired as works of artifice by collectors—the same people who paid dearly for natural curiosities such as misshapen shells or pearls—or to serve as inspirations for designers’ flights of fancy.82 For those familiar with the Renaissance or Baroque, in which painted and carved motifs can be traced relatively easily to printed sources, the difficulty of linking extant ornament to Rococo engravings is a surprise: at best exceptionally time-consuming and often impossible. Rococo patterns enjoyed their warm international reception precisely because their seemingly endless permutations and metamorphoses discouraged slavish imitation. The most influential books and folios were Blondel’s Divers décorations des cheminées (1730s) and De la distribution des maisons de Plaisance (1737–1738); Lajoüe’s Premier Livre de divers morceaux d’architecture, paysages et perspectives (1734) and Troisième livre des cartouches (1736); Boucher’s chinoiseries and other figural and arabesque patterns (from the 1730s); Babel’s various Cartouches pittoresques (from 1735; Figs. 2.17, 3.35); Germain Boffrand’s Livre d’architecture (1745); Oppenord’s Desseins de couronemens et amortissemens convenables pour dessus de portes, voussures, croisées, niches (ca 1720–1730); and Meissonnier’s Livre d’ornemens (1734, Figs. 2.11, 2.13, 4.1, 5.21).83 These books attracted both

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

75

elite and middle-class clients: the expensive architecture books illustrating the great houses—they were truly books, with extensive theoretical texts—were aimed at the nobility while books of motifs targeted artists and craftsmen and their patrons from the lesser nobility and bourgeoisie. More traditional architecture books (e.g. that of Boffrand) placed architecture first and relegated interior schemes to a few illustrations at the end.84 But Jean Mariette’s third volume of Architecture Françoise (1738), a massive and extremely influential survey of which the first two volumes (1727–1729) alone included nearly 560 views of 120 mostly contemporary buildings, was something new: it focused for the first time on interiors, including cheminées, wall panels, doors, and mirror surrounds, with the intention of highlighting décor as something worthwhile in its own right.85 Because these representations of ornament removed from the context of the aristocratic house were ideally suited as models for designers and the folios in particular were much cheaper than books they essentially democratized the Rococo, putting the style into the hands of a much wider range of people and facilitating its rapid spread to Central Europe, Iberia, South America, and even the French colonies in West Africa, where military engineer architects such as such as LieutenantColonel Doumet (1769) incorporated cartouches by Lajoüe, Delafosse, and Meissonnier into maps drawn on-site at Île-Gorée off the coast of Senegal.86

2.20 Chambre de Parade de la Princesse, Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740, with cornice stuccoes by Nicolas Sébastian Adam. The alcove is hung with deep red damask. Through the door is the brightly lit salon. Photo: Author

76

2.21 Germain Boffrand, Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740. Photo: Author

The Spiritual Rococo

An Architectural Conduct Book: The Hôtel de Soubise One of the most overt manifestations of the values of polite society is Germain Boffrand’s Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise (1738–1740), a wedding present to Marie-Sophie de Courcillon (1713–1756), the young wife of the 69-year-old Hercule Mériadec de Rohan (1669–1749), Prince de Soubise. Although the most richly ornamented salon of its day it also represented the kind of metaphorical retreat from worldly cares so dear to the literature of the day, a “fairy-tale place” in the words of Philippe Béchu and Christian Taillard (Fig. 2.21, Plate 1).87 However the space’s affinities with the culture of honnêteté went further than merely serving as a place for relaxed livability and conversation. As in a Renaissance or Baroque palace but expressed more subtly through media associated with intimate spaces and the decorative arts—small canvas paintings, stuccoes, boiseries, and originally tapestries—the iconography of the Salon and accompanying suite of rooms that composed the princess’s and prince’s appartements illustrate the key themes of the conduct books and treatises of the Spiritual Rococo. Boffrand planned the hôtel as a two-storey half swastika centered upon two public enfilades, the Salon du Prince and his apartments on the ground floor (Figs. 2.19, 2.22) and the Salon de la Princesse and her apartments on the first

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

77

(Figs. 2.20, 2.21). On each storey the pair of enfilades culminate in the oval salons, which are placed at the fulcrum of the two main wings and extend past the main walls of the house to afford a three-quarter view of the outside (Fig. 2.19). This exposure bathes them with natural light—the effect is doubled by floor to ceiling windows positioned opposite mirrors of the same height—and makes them visible the moment a visitor enters the corridor. This function as a visible culmination to the enfilade, augmented by the increasing opulence of each room’s ornamentation and their relative darkness—the two rooms leading to the Salon de la Princesse are hung with deep red and blue damask—entices people almost subconsciously to move toward them. On the ground floor the main line of approach to the salon progresses from the grand but sparsely decorated vestibule through the antechamber, salle de dais (formal bedroom), audience chamber, chambre de parade (or chambre d’apparat, a more formal bedroom with alcove for receiving visitors), and the salon.88 The princess’s suite, reached up a monumental but austere double staircase from the ground floor vestibule moves from audience chamber through assembly room (for formal morning visits), chambre de parade (Fig. 2.20), and salon (Fig. 2.21, Plate 1). Further wings include, on the ground floor, an office, kitchens, larders, and staff quarters, and on the premier étage lesser public rooms and private rooms for the family such as withdrawing rooms, grands cabinets

2.22 Germain Boffrand, Salon du Prince at the Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740. Photo: Author

78

The Spiritual Rococo

2.23 CharlesJoseph Natoire, Psyche Greeted by Zephyr, 1737–1739. Oil on canvas, Salon de la Princesse, Hôtel de Soubise, Paris. Photo: Author

(reception rooms), various private rooms (for example, chambres à coucher, private bedrooms, or cabinets) and wardrobes, a small dining room, and a gallery. Each approach to the salons ends with a direct view of a window. The progression from darkness to light can only be experienced by walking through the space and has a similarly exhilarating, euphoric effect as moving through the vestibule, nave, and apse in a Germanic Rococo church interior as I will examine in Chapter 3. Entering the Salon de la Princesse is like stepping into a garden pergola. The visitor is surrounded by delicate gilded stucco and wood paneling (by the Adam brothers, Jean-Baptiste Lemoyne and possibly Jacques Verberckt, among others) liberally doused with foliage, shells, cartouches, and medallions. Aside from the variegated gold leaf, arranged to contrast with the white background—such as the gilded putti reclining over the doors and panels which offset the white cherubs perched on the cornice—the most vibrant colors are the luminous pinks, light blues, pastoral greens, and golden light of Charles-Joseph Natoire’s paintings of the Loves of Psyche and Cupid (1737–1739) above the wall panels and the cheerful sky blue of the ceiling (Figs. 2.21, 2.23), seen through an ingenious mock trellis of gilded arabesques draped with garlands and joined at the center by a luxurious rosette.89 The monochromatic vault with its delicate moldings contrasts dramatically with the frescoed ceilings and heavy framing of a typical Baroque interior, the salon relegating figural paintings to relatively diminutive spandrel frames so that they struggle with the gilded cartouches and stucco cherubs for the viewer’s attention. The plain, light-colored panels, windows, and mirrors make the room look larger than it is, an effect enhanced by the overlap of spandrels,

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

79

cove, and ceiling, which disguises the transition between zones. Nevertheless, the décor of the Salon de la Princesse is as ordered and logically planned as any Baroque interior, its asymmetry confined to the stuccoes in the cove and ceiling and absent in the boiseries. The same care went into the iconographic program of both appartements: calibrated to delight yet instruct the rooms’ inhabitants, from the Prince and Princess to their children, it drew upon sources as diverse as Aesop’s fables, Classical mythology, Scripture, and, I maintain, Herman Hugo’s Pia Desideria, a popular early Modern religious treatise.90 Devised by the Prince himself, the scheme combines typical Renaissance subjects with more contemporary themes such as the pastoral retreat, honnêteté, and happiness.91 The former included (in the Prince’s appartement) the loves of the gods, famous men from history, and allegories of the virtues, arts, and sciences, and (in the Princess’s appartement) representations of the loves of the gods from a female perspective—featuring Europa, Io, Danaë, and Ganymede among others— paeans to feminine beauty, allegories of the sciences and arts with an emphasis on the education of women, episodes from the Biblical story of the love of Ahasuerus and Esther, and allegories of the four continents.92 The program expresses the pastoral ideal through the common theme of landscape, not only in backgrounds of the individual narrative scenes but also in “pure” landscapes such as Pierre-Charles Trémolières’ Landscape with Fisherman and Boucher’s Landscape with a Mill, both in the cabinet de fables in the children’s rooms.93 The subjects that most closely reflect the themes of the Spiritual Rococo concern the responsibilities and spirituality of Love. The Prince’s audience chamber—his most public, formal room—featured a pair of Boucher overdoors, Pastorale of the Cage and Pastorale of the Garland, which depict young men giving their beloved a gift (a dove and flowers) to mark the reciprocity of love and respect between the sexes, the principal theme also of the Salon de la Princesse.94 The education of a model spouse is one of the main themes in the Princess’s apartments. Her chambre de parade included mythological subjects like the Graces Presiding at the Education of Love (Boucher), and Minerva Teaching a Young Woman the Art of Tapestry (Trémolières), and subjects taken from Jean de La Fontaine and Jean Le Bruyère such as Phoebus and Boreas (Jean Restout), which taught that mildness is stronger than violence, and Mercury and the Woodsman (Carle Van Loo), which warned against lying and taught contentment with one’s lot in life. This iconography culminated with the two Biblical paintings, celebrating a love between a Persian king and his Jewish queen that transgressed racial and social boundaries, the now lost Crowning of Esther and Esther before Assuerus on either side of her bed.95 As expected the children’s rooms concentrated on education, reflecting the popularity of conduct books for young people. A series of gilded medallions attributed to Jacques Verberckt in the cabinet de fables depict scenes from Aesop’s fables and those of the sixteenth-century Italian writer Laurentius Abstemius, teaching such virtues as modesty, reserve, and prudence.96

80

The Spiritual Rococo

Other virtues and admonishments formed the subject of the children’s salle de compagnie, this time illustrated by paintings on mythological themes by Boucher, Van Loo, Restout, and Trémolières, the latter of which—entitled The ‘Characters’ of Theophrastus, or Sincerity, refers directly to a conduct book by the fourth-century BC philosopher (Fig. 2.25).97 It also includes symbolism from Cesare Ripa’s Iconologia (Rome, 1593), a Renaissance emblem book still popular in the eighteenth century but with new engravings featuring richer pastoral settings for the allegories.98 The iconographic scheme culminates in Natoire’s eight spandrel canvases in the Salon de la Princesse, the most extensive program in a single room and unusually comprehensive for a Rococo interior (Figs. 2.21, 2.23).99 It is also clearly legible, with large figures and a minimum of background detail, an indication of its didactic function. The cycle is adapted from La Fontaine’s Les Amours de Psyché et de Cupidon (1669), and as elsewhere in the house the episodes and compositions are chosen to emphasize equality and respect between men and women and most are set against rich landscapes.100 La Fontaine’s version of the story is particularly appropriate for a space imitating a garden pavilion since he frames it as a conversation between four gentlemen who have escaped from the city to the gardens and fountains of Versailles.101 As recounted by La Fontaine a jealous Venus condemns Princess Psyche (a stand-in for Marie-Sophie) to be abandoned on a rock for a marriage of death, but Cupid (the Prince) falls in love with her and sends Zephyr the wind god to carry her to a hideaway in a valley near the Palace of Love where, after many hardships and miracles, the lovers were married on Mount Olympus. The story is significant because it can also be read as a spiritual allegory. Psyche means “soul” in Greek and early Modern viewers would have understood an alternative interpretation in which she stands for the Christian soul and Cupid for Divine Love.102 A spiritual reading is made even more probable by the choice of La Fontaine’s version of the tale: his fables were prized as moral exemplars, especially in the education of children, and in places the story openly discusses the soul and the afterlife. Such is the soliloquy of the fisherman, who exhorts Psyche not to take her life in despair as it “destroy[s] the work of the Creator” and “distrusts Providence” and, inviting her to revive her mental and spiritual health in a hermitage in a valley surrounded by forest to prepare for the next life, begs her to consider whether “perhaps Heaven has greater Blessings than those for which you repine, in Store.”103 His praise of the solitary Arcadian life as a place of epicurean, yet responsible pleasure echoes the sentiments of many writers of the Spiritual Rococo: “True Grandeur … is, (in the Eye of Philosophy) to govern our Passions; and true Pleasure, to enjoy ourselves. Now all this is found in Solitude, and scarce any where else.”104 In the same vein all of the violent scenes from the original tale have been excised in Natoire’s series so that it exudes an atmosphere of serenity and happiness.105 The theme of the love between the mortal soul and the divine was popular throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries thanks to religious

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

81

treatises like the Jesuit Herman Hugo’s Pia Desideria (“Pious Desires,” Antwerp, 1624), a mystical bestseller recounting the progress of the soul from its purgation from sin to union with God based on the erotic imagery of the Canticles.106 As in the story of Psyche and Cupid the Soul is depicted as a young woman and Divine Love as a young man, and their rapture was depicted through ecstatic, at times nearly carnal, embraces. The Pia Desideria— it was translated into all the major European languages and its original Latin version had been reprinted 40 times by 1757—was generously illustrated by the Flemish engraver Boëtius à Bolswert (1585–1633), each emblem-like image accompanied by a poem, meditation, and explicatory biblical captions.107 Like Natoire’s paintings and the rest of the Soubise program Hugo’s text is also filled with pastoral imagery. In fact one of Bolswert’s engravings seems to have inspired one of Natoire’s compositions and another one has enough in common with a second painting to suggest that the artist at least had the print at the back of his mind. The first is Psyche Greeted by Zephyr, in which a recumbent Psyche looks up expectantly at the winged deity who enters the picture from the upper right to release her from her exile (Fig. 2.23). The positions of the reclining woman and winged male figure are very close to those in Bolswert’s engraving of plate XLV (Fig. 2.24). In both painting and print the woman leans back against a tree trunk in a grassy valley strewn with rocks, her foot tucked under her knee, both women tilt their head to the left and expose their right cheek as they gaze upward in rapture, and both raise their left hand to their left cheek to dry their tears. The winged figure is also handled similarly although the body is reversed. In the Natoire painting he approaches so that the viewer sees his chest and holds out his arms to embrace his lover whereas in the Bolswert engraving he turns away and bids her to follow him, his open arms describing the path she must follow to achieve heavenly happiness. Both pictures celebrate release from solitude and unity with the beloved, but in Hugo’s version the soul looks forward to her release through literal death, while La Fontaine has Zephyr liberate Psyche from the death of being “left alone in the frightful deserts.”108 There are also similarities between Natoire’s painting Psyche Contemplates Her Sleeping Spouse and Bolswert’s plate XXV in which the Soul seeks her Lover on his bed, although in subject matter and not composition. Both feature a woman on the left approaching a canopied bed with a bronze oil lamp to seek the identity of a recumbent spouse they believe to be mortal but is in fact a god. In both cases the spouses have hidden from the women’s view, Cupid unsuccessfully. Cupid did so out of fear that Psyche will “cease to love me, or at least … no longer love me with such ardour,” if his identity is discovered while the Lover does so in order to teach the Soul that their love is not of this world, causing her to cry: “Alas! my Love, I sought thee in my Bed, who on the Cross had’st laid thy weary Head: Peace was my Bed, while the curst Cross was Thine, I shou’d have sought Thee by that fatal sign.”109 In their passionate love embraces and apotheoses—Hugo’s Soul and Lover repeatedly hug each other,

82

The Spiritual Rococo

grasp each other’s hands, or glance longingly at one another in transgression of the boundary between spiritual and erotic—the two series are closely aligned. Although each heroine gets there in a different way Psyche and Hugo’s Soul both achieve oneness with their divine lovers in the kind of reconciliation of sacred and profane that lay at the very heart of the Spiritual Rococo.

Serious Matters in Rococo Painting

2.24 Boëtius à Bolswert, Fuge dilecte mi … Plate 45 from Herman Hugo, Pia Desideria (Antwerp, 1624). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum

Although Rococo easel painting is beyond the scope of this book it is worth briefly exploring recent literature on the subject since scholars have discovered the same motivations and ideologies in Rococo painting that exist in Rococo décor and the literature of the Spiritual Rococo. Indeed painting and décor were never far apart: as we have seen artists of the stature of Watteau, Boucher, and Natoire contributed to decorative schemes, and painting and décor alike favored an Arcadian ideal of relaxation, as with fête galante paintings, a genre invented by Watteau, which depicted outings in forested settings and provided an atmosphere of aristocratic refuge, intrigue, and enchantment akin to that of the Salon de la Princesse (Fig. 2.26).110 Easel paintings also often reflect the petitesse and asymmetry of Rococo décor, with smaller figures than Baroque paintings and irregular compositions sometimes inspired by C-scrolls or rocailles, and as with Natoire’s series noted above they use a similar palette, including the greens, light blues, and soft browns of their natural settings and some of the most subtle pink flesh tones in the history of art. The close attention paid to costume and glittering light effects in Rococo painting, enhanced by loose brushwork and punctuated with bright highlights, is another visual manifestation of papillotage and recalls the effects that sunshine and candlelight have on the gilded surfaces, mirrors, and chandeliers of a Rococo interior. In her classic study on Fragonard, Sheriff shows how the artist’s loose handling could evoke erotic pleasure, not merely through the overall sensation of “beautiful disarray,” dishevelment, and abandon caused by apparently messy painting, but very specifically through tactile effects achieved by the length and thickness of each brushstroke, sometimes creating the sensation that the paint is caressing the canvas, and the invitation it makes to linger over certain details through strategically dense applications of pigment.111 Louis-Jean Lévesque de Pouilly would have approved of this

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

83

2.25  Pierre-Charles Trémolières, The ‘Characters’ of Theophrastus, or Sincerity, 1737. Oil on canvas, children’s Salle de Compagnie, Hôtel de Soubise, Paris. Photo: Author

way of inviting the viewer to look more deeply into a canvas to find pleasure: as he noted in his Theory of Agreeable Sensations (see Chapter 1), “Our most excellent … painters … have oftentimes been guided in their performances by deep and refined reflections upon what was capable of affording pleasure to the mind.”112 Unlike décor Rococo painting is no longer treated solely as the manifestation of a frivolous age. Scholars are revealing Rococo artists’ preoccupations with consequential themes relating to polite society such as conversation, absorption, and spirituality as well as Enlightenment values such as emotional love as defined by Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Diderot. Mary Vidal introduced the idea that Watteau’s fêtes galantes, such as The Pleasures of the Dance (ca. 1716–1717) (Fig. 2.26), were revolutionary in being more concerned with conversation and social interaction than with narrative or symbolism: they show us that people are talking and that they are conversing about something engrossing but they do not let us know what they are saying.113 As with Fragonard, the loose handling of Watteau’s paint itself can be expressive, here evoking the glittering patterns of conversation: “Watteau’s manner of laying on paint in gentle, fluid strokes and quick dabs matches the constant movement of accomplished conversation and the light, playful wit of artful speakers … [a]s in the best conversation, individual elements contribute to the whole, but no single aspect tyrannizes, monopolizes.”114 There is a sense of community and reciprocity in Watteau’s often intimate clutches of people—an impression that Society with its rules of decorum is more important than the individual—that is consistent with the literature of the Spiritual Rococo. In fact, like a conduct book several of his paintings even include children paying close attention to the behavior of their elders.115

84

2.26 JeanAntoine Watteau, The Pleasures of the Dance, ca. 1716–1717. Oil on canvas. By Permission of the Trustees of Dulwich Picture Gallery

The Spiritual Rococo

Michael Fried and Dena Goodman identify absorption in the work of several painters of the Rococo, a characteristic akin to the attentiveness called for in the writings of Mme Necker and other salonnières.116 Fried points in particular to a pair of Mme Geoffrin’s commissions: Carle Van Loo’s Spanish Reading (Fig. 2.27) and Spanish Conversation (both 1754), each featuring intimate groups focused on a single activity.117 Geoffrin was intensely involved in the arts: she was the only salonnière to host special salons (on Mondays) for artists and architects, including Boucher, Van Loo, Cochin, Hubert Robert (1733–1808), Claude-Joseph Vernet (1714–1789), Jean-Baptiste Greuze (1725–1805), JacquesGermain Soufflot (1713–1780), and Edmé Bouchardon (1698–1762) as well as the printmaker Pierre-Jean Mariette (1694–1774), whom she referred to as her “friends”—not as protégés—affording them the same respect as literary men.118 Her biographer André Morellet remarked: “She often won over the most celebrated artists with ever more steady care. She interested herself in their success, went to see them in their workshop, had them work for herself. Her appartement was adorned with their work.”119 During her Monday salons artists and collectors debated the merits of individual paintings, drawings, or sculptures, and like the intellectual salons and conduct books they took on a

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

85

pedagogical tone. Morellet recollected: “One can say that Madame Geoffrin contributed, by the establishment of her Mondays, to the making of a great part of the paintings of modern French school which now adorn the cabinets of Europe.”120 Geoffrin was no mere passive observer of her commissions: famously involved in the smallest minutiae of her 69 recorded commissions, she commented that her paintings “were all made under my eyes.”121 Van Loo’s canvases are like microcosms of the salon, both showing groups of women with a single man.122 In Spanish Reading (Fig. 2.27) he reads out loud to a circle of women, set against a Watteau-like forested landscape. The two on the left listen intently while on the right a girl plays with a bird on a string supervised by a governess (a portrait of the artist’s wife).123 In this work Van Loo makes a specific point about Geoffrin’s patronage and female participation in the arts and letters: Sheriff has identified the governess as a symbol of the salonnière as arbiter of polite conversation and the girl “reaffirms the idea of gentle control. Just as the child both enables and limits the bird’s ascent, so the salonnière not only facilitated the wit of her guests, she also regulated their flights of fancy.”124 The book clearly bears the title Zayde, a so-called histoire espagnole (hence “Spanish”) about imprudent love published in 1670 under a nom de plume by Marie-Madeleine Picoche de La Vergne (1634–1693) with a preface by Pierre-Daniel Huet that celebrates female writers, their impact on the language of politesse, and the role of the novel as a vehicle for instructing youth about the dangers of love.125 Emma Barker interprets the seventeenthcentury costume in the painting (and the architectural setting of Spanish Conversation) as an evocation of an era when women were thought to have enjoyed greater authority, particularly that of Queen Regent Marie de Médicis (1575–1642), whose commission of Rubens’ monumental series of canvases of her life (1622–1625) also made her one of the most important artistic patrons in France and is likely also a reference to Geoffrin’s own patronage.126 Scholars are even beginning to take Rococo sacred painting seriously, not unreasonably since there is a lot of it, whether easel paintings for private devotion or chapel and church commissions. Such works also reflect the theology of the treatises and sermons of the time: after mid-century relatively literal representations of holy subjects gave way to more intimate, meditative images with fewer figures and symbols that focused on human interactions, equated earthly with divine, and projected a mood of pleasure, sensuality, and quiet happiness.127 In particular, the vast heavenly empyreans of saints, angels, and cloudbursts which overwhelmed the upper parts of Baroque sacred paintings are severely reduced in scale and number of figures. Few remark on the ubiquity of religious paintings in hôtels particuliers of the time yet at the Hôtel de Soubise for example there were more sacred works than all the mythological scenes, landscapes, or portraits combined.128 There and elsewhere patrons commissioned biblical scenes to incorporate directly into decorative schemes: Watteau, Boucher, Natoire, Van Loo, Restout, FrançoisAndré Vincent (1746–1816), and Charles-Antoine Coypel (1694–1752) all contributed sacred paintings or painting cycles to domestic interiors, and

2.27 Carle Van Loo, Spanish Reading, 1754. Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum/ photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

87

clerics and laity alike fitted religious pictures into overdoors, cheminée panels, and bedrooms.129 Levey dismisses the religious motivations of Rococo painters, writing that it “was and is a matter not of faith or morals but of the nature of an individual talent.”130 But I am not convinced by his argument: the same could be said of their Baroque predecessors for whom spiritual motives are rarely questioned and effectiveness as devotional art a clear priority. Rococo artists were no less concerned with the serviceability of their sacred pictures; it is just that their religious imagery communicated less specific messages than that of Rubens or Caravaggio. As we will see with Rococo religious interiors throughout this book the vagueness of the subject matter was intentional, allowing for multiple, personalized interpretations rather than directed, topdown readings. Sometimes religion is at the foundation of an otherwise profane painting. Paula Rea Radisich has recently explored a trio of moralistic conversation pictures (mentioned in Chapter 1) by Hubert Robert which depict Mme Geoffrin with her closest friends in the garden of the Abbaye Saint-Antoine.131 In Madame Geoffrin Lunching with the Nuns of the Abbey Saint-Antoine (1773), the patroness presides over a group of society ladies and a male domestic holding a letter, all arranged around the luncheon table, while a pair of nuns and other figures stand by.132 The figures are tiny in comparison with the Arcadian vegetation and Italianate ruins that surround them—landscape painting was Robert’s métier. Radisich interprets the letter as a symbol of Geoffrin’s role as a woman of letters, the group around the table as a metaphor for the salon, and the convent setting as the representation of a society dominated by women.133 But more significantly she finds spiritual motivations behind the painting: on one hand Geoffrin sought to broadcast her religious affiliations to compensate for her reputation as a hostess of secularist Encyclopedists, while on the other the paintings can be read as a meditative pilgrimage of the soul for someone nearing death—a subject about which Geoffrin was obsessed—whereby the garden is the Garden of Paradise, the nuns evoke the spiritual life, the luncheon table with its bounty is a vanitas image, and the servant a messenger of death.134 No painter would seem less inclined toward spirituality than Boucher, the quintessential society painter derided in his time as a “pornographic titillator” of sexualized women viewed through a rosy lens.135 Diderot famously dismissed his sacred paintings as trussed-up boudoir scenes, their virgins coquettes, and their angels “little libertine satyrs,” and Antoine Renou wrote in 1759 of a Boucher Madonna: “[t]he attitude of the Virgin is neither simple nor modest but flirtatious and voluptuous. What’s the difference, I’d like to know, between the head of that figure and the head of a dancing girl?”136 Yet even his non-religious canvases demonstrate a gentleness and often unrecognized compassion for the human condition tempered by gentle humor. Alastair Laing links this tenderness and sympathy to Boucher’s departure from the ambiguity of Watteau’s fêtes galantes toward specific, accessible references to popular theatre that “mak[e] the public laugh from the touching ingenuity of his rustic protagonists more than by their crude stupidity.”137 Religious works like Boucher’s Virgin and Child with the Young

2.28 François Boucher, Virgin and Child with the Young Saint John and Angels, 1765. Oil on canvas. © The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Image source: Art Resource

2.29 François Boucher, Are They Thinking About the Grape? 1747. Oil on canvas. Chicago, The Art Institute. Scala/White Images/Art Resource, NY

90

The Spiritual Rococo

Saint John and Angels (1765) (Fig. 2.28) harness the tenderness and euphoria of gallant canvases such as Are they Thinking about the Grape? (1747)—it almost looks like the former’s pendant (Fig. 2.29)—the youth, innocence, untainted skin tones, and empathy for the protagonists carrying over into the painting of the Virgin and Child. Françoise Joulie recently notes that his religious drawings are “particularly moving … by their sobriety and their interior life … [he attempts] to show maternal sweetness without bombast.”138 Boucher’s blend of sacral and sensual harmonizes with the Christian volupté of the spiritual treatises.139 The sacred paintings of Watteau—a man described as “spiritual” (spirituel) by his biographer Caylus—also employ the qualities of his profane works for religious ends.140 Works like his Holy Family (ca. 1715) (Fig. 2.30, Plate 2) focus on conversation and rapture, the parents joyfully beholding their child and the infant delighted with the dove that feeds from his hands. Watteau bathes the Virgin and Child in light to draw attention to their interaction as he does in his non-religious works—note the woman holding forth at the far right in The Pleasures of the Dance (Fig. 2.26). Like his fêtes galantes the Holy Family also de-emphasizes narrative or symbolism, concentrating on the love and humanity of an ideal family.141 Notably, Joseph is not separated from the Virgin and Child, which Vidal sees as a celebration of polite society with its “new parity of relationships.”142 By minimizing the number of figures and denying its narrative specificity Watteau has endowed his scene with the contemplative quality of a medieval devotional image and of early Modern popular religious movements such as the Devotio Moderna with their focus on individual interaction with the divine.143 Boucher’s Light of the World (Fig. 2.31), commissioned for Madame de Pompadour’s private chapel in the Château de Bellevue, focuses similarly on an intimate group with rosy skin tones and clothing rendered in hushed, balanced colors.144 Like Watteau’s Holy Family it is not specific about time or place as it fades out into a smoky haze of brown, beige, and gold. Boucher evokes Correggio, notably his Adoration of the Shepherds (begun 1522) with which the Light of the World shares the muted color balance of the principal figures’ garments, their poses (in reverse), the light emanating from the child, and the minutely observed still-life elements in the foreground. But Boucher’s painting is more generic: by omitting elements usually included in Nativity scenes (such as the ass) and merging the Nativity and Adoration he prevents the viewer from reading a clear narrative into the painting. It is also unclear whether the figure to the far right is a shepherd or pilgrim, or whether the figure in the background is Joseph with the ox or Saint Luke, a reference to the Gospel story—his symbol is also an ox or bull and he is often shown with a book, as he is here. Boucher’s refusal to link his paintings to specific texts suggests, as Scheider argues, that he was more interested in the mood of the scene than in its story or even subject.145 Boucher’s devotional paintings were not cynical parodies but intimate, human scenes of gentle sensuality, calm, and happiness. As Louis-Guillaume Baillet de Saint-Julien (ca. 1715–1783) commented about the Light of the World, “the background is taken up by the

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

91

2.30 JeanAntoine Watteau, Holy Family, ca. 1715. Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum/photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets

vague and gentle glow of Christ’s glory, all of which is perfectly apropos: it seems to represent the great dawn which was to announce the coming of the Savior of the world.”146 Even Boucher’s critic Guillaume-François-Roger Molé (1742–1790), who could not condone his disregard for scriptural sources—“one searches in vain in sacred text”—praises Boucher’s ability to “present nothing that is not gracious; he is also estimable for the decency which reigns there.”147 Nevertheless, the leading Rococo painters were largely excluded from Paris’ explosion of public altarpiece commissions in the eighteenth century: Boucher was hired to paint two canvases late in life for the Cathédrale de Saint-Louis at Versailles (after 1759, 1766), one for a private chapel; Natoire painted three altarpieces for Saint-Germain-des-Prés (1754), the Chapel of the Hospice des Enfants-Trouvés (1748–1750), and the Cathedral of Nôtre Dame (1752), all in Paris; and Watteau and Fragonard painted none at all.148

2.31 François Boucher, Light of the World, 1750. Oil on canvas. Lyon, Musée des Beaux-Arts. © RMN-Grand Palais/Art Resource, NY

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

93

Although the new interest in altarpieces has been seen as a departure from Jansenist austerity following Louis XIV’s 1711 dismantling of their headquarters, a 1713 Papal condemnation of the group with the bull Unigenitus, and the 1754 law censoring Jansenist theological debate, Jansenist sympathies remained strong in Paris and curates were conservative in their choice of style and painters.149 They preferred academicians who championed the somber classicism of Poussin and Annibale Carracci (1560– 1609), with restrained emotions and a cooler palette. It is therefore ironic that the Jansenist-leaning Jean Restout (1692–1768)—with 16 commissions he was one of the most successful altarpiece painters in eighteenth-century Paris—created works which most closely evoked the ideals, Arcadian mood, and figure types of Boucher and indeed his own mythological paintings like Alpheus Pursuing Arethusa (1720), his reception piece for the Académie Royale.150 Such is his The Rest on the Flight to Egypt (1756), an easel painting rather than an altarpiece, which reconciled the happiness and sensuality of Boucher’s profane subjects with the decorum and compassion of his religious pictures (Fig. 2.32).151 The Virgin has the diminutive figure, round face, rosy cheeks, gentle smile, and doe eyes of one of Boucher’s shepherdesses, and her delight over the Christ child in his basket is even more buoyant than the reverent expressions of the Virgins in Boucher’s Light of the World or Virgin and Child with the Young Saint John and Angels (Figs. 2.31, 2.28). In its gentle, forested landscape with glimpses of bright blue sky and a meandering river in the background Restout evokes Boucher’s pastorals (Fig. 2.29) and Watteau’s fête galante paintings alike. In fact this worldlier setting likely explains this work’s lasting popularity: an earlier version (1753) in which the background was filled with standard Baroque sunbursts and roiling clouds received little attention whereas this version was copied many times, often in very high quality renderings.152 Restout demonstrates the degree to which Rococo approaches to sacred imagery and a Christianity of earthly happiness could be introduced even into mainstream religious art.

2.32 Jean Restout, The Rest on the Flight to Egypt, signed 1756. Oil on canvas. Paris, Louvre. © RMNGrand Palais/Art Resource, NY

94

The Spiritual Rococo

Rococo Spirituality and French Rococo Church Décor Given the affinities between Rococo décor and the social qualities promoted by the religious treatises of Chapter 1, and considering the meditative humanity and spiritual rapture communicated by Rococo sacred painting, we should expect in ecclesiastical décor the ultimate union between style and devotion. Certainly there is no reason why décor that developed in the hôtel particulier could not be appropriate in a place of worship: as Minguet noted, “if churches evoke salons, as Romanesque churches [did] with palace fortresses, there is nothing scandalous aesthetically… artistic forms are not religious in themselves.”153 And indeed literally hundreds of Rococo church interiors reveal precisely that synthesis, frequently doing so with a grandeur, scale, and ornamental richness that outstrips even the most ostentatious Rococo domestic spaces. But they are not in France. In France Church interiors were public places and their décor reflects the French predilection for classicism in non-private settings as dictated by the academically minded architects who controlled official taste as well as prevailing Jansenist sympathies.154 It is no coincidence that most of the contemporary critics of the Rococo were architects, and that Rococo practitioners like Meissonnier were derided as mere decorators.155 This distinction reflects a hierarchy among architects. An architect who served as Premier Architecte du Roi or director of the Service de Bâtiments du Roi— Robert de Cotte (1656–1735) was both—was much more prestigious than one like Meissonnier, who was merely Dessinateur de la Chambre et du Cabinet du Roi.156 The former post was public and exterior, whereas the latter’s domain was private, embracing the décor and furnishings of the King’s apartments (boiseries, mirrors, overdoors) as well as ephemeral enterprises such as processional triumphal arches and fireworks displays. Similarly, the secondary status of their art relegated Rococo ornemenistes to the Académie de Saint-Luc (founded 1705) instead of the more prestigious Académie Royale.157 As Kalnein noted about Meissonnier, “as an architect he was blocked by the king’s own architects and never made his mark.”158 Thus, to the French mindset the idea of using a decorative style for public architecture simply did not make sense, and there could be no such thing as a Rococo building: as Boffrand noted décor must not be allowed to creep out onto “exteriors and stonework, where the craftsmanship must be stouter and more masculine.”159 As I noted earlier even the very hôtels particuliers in which the style was born were sparse in their exterior decoration. In France Rococo was an interior style. The French distaste for a more flamboyant style associated with Italy had already resulted in the most famous rejection in French Baroque architecture. In 1665 Louis XIV invited Gianlorenzo Bernini to Paris to complete the Louvre, including its principal courtyard, or Cour Carrée, and the East façade.160 Bernini produced four plans for the project, all dismissed, the first incorporating a Roman interplay of curve and counter-curve.161 The façade that was actually built (1667–1670), by Charles Le Brun, Louis Le Vau, and

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

95

Claude Perrault, with its Corinthian colonnade, is one of the most severe and impersonal monuments erected in Paris for nearly a century and a half. The following century witnessed a comparable drama over the completion of the Paris church of Saint-Sulpice in which Meissonnier’s schemes for the façade and two altarpieces were rejected, the most public defeat of a Rococo designer in France.162 However this rejection had less to do with Rococo (as it is so often made out to be) than with the Italian Baroque, the predominant style of these inventions. Even Meissonnier, it appears, shied away from using a mode associated with private interiors for a major public monument. Hoping to make an avant-garde architectural statement in his completion of one of the city’s most fashionable churches, the curate Jean-Baptiste Languet de Gergy (1675–1750) first hired Oppenord as its chief architect in 1718. Although a major contributor to Regency and early Rococo décor Oppenord worked in a severe Classical style in his designs for the transept ends, façade, and crossing, in deference to his predecessor at the post, Daniel Gittard (1625– 1686). The plainest were the designs for the transept ends (built 1723–1724)— they were also published in Blondel’s Architecture Françoise (1752–1756)—the north portal a mere correction of Gittard’s design, and the south portal built to harmonize with it.163 The portals evoke late Renaissance Roman models such as Vignola’s project for the façade of the Roman Gesù (before 1571) or Guido Guidetti’s church of S. Caterina dei Funari (1564). Oppenord’s façade project (1725–1726), never built but known through a drawing now in Stockholm, is more decorative, but in the Franco-Italian Baroque manner of the Jesuit church of Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis in Paris (1627–1641) with details recalling Alexis Delamair’s classicizing façade at the Hôtel de Soubise (1704–1707). However Oppenord was not to see his façade realized: he was summarily dismissed after an octagonal bell tower he constructed over the crossing had to be demolished in 1731 owing to excessive weight—a coincidental parallel with Bernini’s own temporary fall from grace when his left tower at St. Peter’s had to be demolished for the same reason in 1646.164 Gergy initiated a competition for the new façade the following year, which drew several prominent architects— among them Pierre-Jean Varin (d. 1742), Nicolas Servandoni (1695–1766), and a chastened, more conservative Oppenord—their styles ranging from the grand Baroque of Jules Hardouin-Mansart (1646–1708) to the Classicism of Christopher Wren (1632–1723).165 However even before Oppenord was fired Meissonnier had offered the curate a radical new design for the façade in 1726 (Fig. 2.33, Plate 3), likely at the suggestion of Jean-Frédéric Phélypeaux, the comte de Maurepas (he was vestryman of Saint-Sulpice), and probably not in response to any request from Gergy. Often incorrectly associated with the 1732 competition, it is built on a tripartite, boldly curvilinear plan based mostly on Roman high Baroque models, with specific references to Pietro da Cortona’s S. Maria della Pace (1656–1658, the left clock tower), Bernini’s S. Andrea al Quirinale (1658–1672, the portal), and Borromini’s façade of S. Agnese in Agone (1652–1666, the version of the bell tower on the right, discarded in the print in

96

The Spiritual Rococo

2.33  Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, study for the façade of Saint-Sulpice, Paris, 1726. Ink, gouache, and watercolor on paper. Waddesdon, The Rothschild Collection (The National Trust)

the Livre d’ornemens, and the dramatic concavity in the center of the façade), and the contrast of convex/concave bays also relates also to Borromini’s façade of S. Carlo alle Quattro Fontane (1665–1667).166 Although many have found similarities between Meissonnier’s scheme and his silver table settings in the Livre d’ornemens—Kalnein echoes contemporary critics like Blondel when he comments that it bears a “distinct resemblance to a centrepiece for a dinner table”—it is in fact these Roman Baroque elements that dominate, the only genuinely Rococo features being the C-scroll finials atop the extremities of the transept roofs and the framing of the attic windows and the left clock face.167 Presumably because Meissonnier’s invention was considered too Italian by

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

97

the church officials he offered a more conservative version in time for the 1732 competition in which all traces of the curvilinear plan were removed and the lower storey adopted the staid Corinthian mode of Gittard and Oppenord’s north transept portal and the nave interior, with a central door frame with a triangular pediment and plinth-like supports for the flanking towers.168 In this version the only remnants of Meissonnier’s original invention are on the second storey: dressed-down versions of the right clock tower and an elaborate (but Baroque, not Rococo) broken pediment at the crown. Meissonnier’s projects for the High Altar (1727–1732) (Fig. 2.34) and the chapel of the Virgin (1727) (Fig. 5.21)—the latter a variation on Bernini’s Baldacchino in Saint Peter’s (1624–1633)—were also predominantly Italian Baroque in style with Rococo ornament relegated to the margins (as with the shell motifs in the broken pediments of the panels on either side of the Altar of the Virgin) although in the altarpiece itself Meissonnier has ingeniously transformed Bernini’s volutes into opposing C-scrolls, a solution that would prove popular in South America (e.g. Fig. 5.27).169 The altarpiece of the Chapel of the Virgin is the closest Meissonnier came to the auricular manner of his silver pieces. In the relief of the Dead Christ in the altar frontal the frame and image seem to melt together, two asymmetrical candelabra teeter on the corners of the altar table, and the structure culminates in a giant irregular cartouche flanked by shells within C-scrolls and mounted by life-sized angels fervently grappling with the book of the seven seals supporting a monstrance and Gloria. The angels have the energy and windswept drapery of late Italian Baroque sculptors such as Giuseppe Mazzuoli (1644–1725)—or for that matter of Simon Challe in Paris two decades later (Fig. 2.1). However despite all of his accommodations to French taste Meissonnier was passed over in favor of Lyons architect Servandoni, ironically of Italian descent himself.170 Inspired by St. Paul’s Cathedral in London (begun 1675) Servandoni’s façade featured an austere double colonnade and paired towers, and it was further simplified in the 1770s by Oudot de Maclaurin and Jean-François Chalgrin to create the imposing but ponderous façade of today.171 Indeed seeking Rococo décor in eighteenth-century churches in Paris and Versailles is a disappointing venture—even if we take into consideration that many boiseries were removed from churches during the Revolution.172 A number of early protagonists of the Rococo worked on the completion (1699–1709) of the Royal Chapel at Versailles in the last years of Louis XIV— notably the organ case (1709–1710) “already in a Rococo spirit” by Philippe Bertrand and Jules Degoullons with its twisting palms and spidery musical trophies—but the rest of the chapel was firmly in the manner of the Grand Siècle.173 Jean-François Blondel (1683–1756), uncle of Jacques-François, designed the Eucharist Chapel at the church of Saint-Jean-en Grève (now demolished), possibly with the assistance of Pineau, in which he employed Rococo-style coving in the window arches, and Kimball characterizes his high altar as “an extreme of the rococo in France.”174 But elsewhere only the paneling of choirstalls (Nôtre-Dame-de-Paris, 1710), side chapels, and sacristies (Saint-Sulpice, ca. 1730–1732), or the occasional pulpit

98

The Spiritual Rococo

2.34  Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, High Altar project for SaintSulpice, Paris, 1727, from Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1747–1748). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-353. F.G. Waller-Fonds

(Notre-Dame-des-Blancs-Manteaux, 1749; Notre Dame des Victoires, 1739) could be accurately described as Rococo (Fig. 2.35).175 Yet this resistance toward Rococo did not prevent Rococo ornemenistes from publishing scores of designs for pulpits, altars, and confessionals. Although they are much less numerous than those of the Augsburg printers which I will consider in the next chapter

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred”

99

(and are sometimes based on them), they included pulpit models by André Basset le Jeune, confessionals by Le Canu (Nouveau livre de confessionaux sur les desseins du frère Isidore Carme Billet), altars, bancs d’oeuvre, altars, and choirstalls by Cornille, baldachins by Neufforge (Nouveaux livres de plusiers projets d’autels et baldaquins inventés et dessinés par Neufforge, et gravés par Babel), and altars and tombs by Oppenord (Livre d’autels et tombeaux).176 It is possible that these designs were meant for an export market, but I have identified at least one that was executed in France: one of Le Canu’s confessional designs served as the inspiration for the confessionals at the church of Saint-Jacques-du-HautPas, appropriately on the Rue Saint-Jacques.177 Only outside Paris can we find a handful of French churches with more substantial Rococo décor, although they appear primarily in zones under the cultural influence of Central Europe (Lorraine, Alsace, and Alpine FrancheComté). Such is the interior of the church of Saint-Jacques in Lunéville in Lorraine (completed 1745), in the realm of the ex-King of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and Duke of Lorraine Stanisław (Stanislas) Leszczyński (Fig. 2.36).178 Commissioned from his favored architect Emmanuel Héré de Corny (1705–1763) it is the most purely Rococo interior in France. The ochre-colored arches in its nave, side aisles, and arcades—and especially the pendentives and drum at the crossing—are adorned with crisp, white rocaille

2.35 Pulpit, Notre-Dame-desBlancs-Manteaux, Paris, 1749. Photo: Author

100 The Spiritual Rococo

2.36 Emmanuel Héré de Corny and others, Interior of nave (detail), Church of Saint-Jacques, Lunéville (organ by Nicolas Dupont), completed 1745. Photo courtesy Pol Mayer

scrolls, cartouches, and floral garlands in stucco, a delicate use of Rococo motifs typical of the churches of the Germanic Rococo but a far cry from the solemnity of Parisian interiors. The organ, by Nicolas Dupont is particularly splendid, placed before a trompe l’oeil palace interior and crowned with a baldachin formed of a tracery of interlocking rocailles that recalls contemporary altarpieces in Argentina and Chile (Figs. 5.20, 5.27). The French reluctance to use a style so closely associated with domestic interiors and the mondain world in their churches prevented the development of an ecclesiastical Rococo in that country— in fact the conservatism of French church décor even restricted Rococo forms in the churches and chapels of French colonies such as Nouvelle-France, Saint-Domingue (Haiti), or Guadeloupe, giving them a classical character that contrasted notably with the rich Rococo of Latin America.179 Such is a parish church design by Étienne Verrier for Louisbourg (now Novia Scotia, Canada), from the 1720s, the east wall of which features nothing more than a staid tabernacle and a painting of the Virgin of the Apocalypse, or Vincent Houel’s scheme for a hospital chapel at Fort Royal, Martinique (1725), with decoration that self-consciously evokes that of the previous century.180 As the church of Saint-Jacques in Lunéville demonstrates it is a Central European impulse that brought Rococo into sacred spaces, a taste for joyful, colorful décor in churches that was very different from the aesthetic of Paris. This first true ecclesiastical Rococo is the subject of the following chapter.

Notes 1

William Park, The Idea of Rococo (Newark, 1992): 12. The term bizarre was applied to Rococo as early as the 1730s [Günther Irmscher, “Style rocaille,” Barockberichte 51/52 (2009): 340]

2

Paula Rea Radisich, Hubert Robert: Painted Spaces of the Enlightenment (London, 1998): 32; John McManners, Church and Society in Eighteenth Century France II: The Religion of the People and the Politics of Religion (Oxford, 1998): 58. There is some confusion as Radisich writes that it was a stroke while McManners says it was pneumonia caught in the church. Furthermore a contemporary obituary notes that her death was a slow one, leaving her bedridden for over a year [M. Thomas, A la mémoire de Madame G.. (Paris, 1777): 20]. See also Michael Levey, Painting and Sculpture in France, 1700–1789 (New Haven and London, 1995): 3; Giullaume Kazerouni et al., Peintures françaises du XVIIIe des églises de Paris (Paris, 2010): 54–5; Aline Dumoulin et al., Paris d’église en église (Paris, 2008): 31–7; Dictionnaire des églises de France IV (Paris, 1968): 105–6.

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred” 101

3

On Simon Challe and the Challe family of artists, see M. Prevost and Roman d’Amat, Dictionnaire de biographie française VIII (Paris, 1959): 207–8. The title of the sculpture over the pulpit is “The Genius of Truth Lifting the Veil from Error” [Dumoulin et al., Paris d’église en église, 32].

4

Marc Fumaroli observes that it is one of the rare moments in art where humanity is reconciled with the world [Personal communication, 23 October 2010, Cercle de l’Union Interalliée, Paris].

5 On papillotage and Rousseau see Philippe Minguet, Esthétique du rococo (Paris, 1966): 213. See Caraccioli, Livre des quatre couleurs, i–ix, where he satirizes peoples’ need for constant distraction, as in this remark: “without variety, what would become of the universe” [xv]. On papillotage, badinage, and eighteenth-century ennui see also Sabine Melchior-Bonnet, Histoire de la Frivolité (Paris, 2013): 71–2; 81–3. 6

Philippe Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 213. See also Marian Hobson, The Object of Art: The Theory of Illusion in Eighteenth-Century France (Cambridge, 1982): 52–7.

7

Mary D. Sheriff, “Rococo,” in Alan Charles Kors, ed., Oxford Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003) III, 465.

8

Hobson, The Object of Art, 50–51; Mimi Hellmann, “Enchanted Night: Decoration, Sociability, and Visuality after Dark,” in Charissa Bremer-David, ed., Paris: Life & Luxury in the Eighteenth Century (Los Angeles, 2011): 95. On the importance of garden motifs in Rocaille see Herman Bauer, Rocaille. Zur Herkunft und zum Wesen eines Ornament-motivs (Berlin, 1962): 27–8; Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer, “Rococo,” Encyclopedia of World Art XII (New York, 1966): 240.

9

Paul J. Young, Seducing the Eighteenth-century French Reader (Farnham, 2008): 60.

10

See Anthony Wilder’s preface to Jean-François Bastide, The Little House: An Architectural Seduction (Rudolphe el-Khouri, trans. and ed., New York, 1996): 9. See also Young, Seducing the Eighteenthcentury French Reader, 56–7.

11

Jacques Vanuxem, “Note sur les contrefaçons des gravures et ornements françaises.” in Bulletin de la société de l’histoire de l’art français, année 1952 (1953): 30. See also Wend von Kalnein, Architecture in France in the Eighteenth Century (New Haven and London, 1995): 119. Speaking more specifically of the Régence era Hans Sedlmayr calls the Rococo the “Domain of Pan … the elusive borderland between wilderness and tilled ground, the groves, pastures and watersides as they appear in the cartouches of Audran and Gillot, and in the backgrounds of Watteau, the world of nymphs and satyrs..” [Hans Sedlmayr, “The Synthesis of the Arts in Rococo,” in The Age of Rococo (Munich, 1958): 26; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 239]. See also Peter Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” in Sarah D. Coffin et al., eds, Rococo: the Continuing Curve (New York, 2008): 24. See also Park, The Idea of Rococo, 25.

12

Katie Scott, The Rococo Interior (New Haven and London, 1995): 158–9; Nicole Garnier-Pelle, Anne Forray-Carlier, and Marie-Christine Anselm, Singeries & exotisme chez Christophe Huet (SaintRémy-en-L’eau, 2010): 28–38; Marianne Roland Michel, Lajoüe et l’Art Rocaille (Neuilly-sur-Seine, 1984): 131. On Fragonard’s series for Sainscy, see Marie-Anne Dupuy-Vachey, Fragonard (Paris, 2006): 142–51; Philip Conisbee, et al., French Paintings of the Fifteenth through the Eighteenth Century (Washington, 2009): 200; Pierre Rosenberg, Fragonard (New York, 1988): 342–6.

13

Sheriff, Fragonard: Art and Eroticism (Chicago, 1990): 73, 76.

14

Martin deals specifically with the so-called “pleasure dairy,” a purpose-built structure in royal gardens where elite women enjoyed dairy products, which goes back to the reign of Catherine de’ Medici and was particularly popular with Madame de Pompadour, who constructed five of them. See Meredith Martin, Dairy Queens: The Politics of Pastoral Architecture from Catherine de’ Medici to Marie Antoinette (Cambridge MA, 2011): 5–16; See also John Whitehead, The French Interior in the 18th Century (London 1992): 75, 76; Maria Gordon-Smith, “Jean Pillement at the Imperial Court of Maria Theresa and Francis I in Vienna (1763 to 1765), Artibus et Historiae 25, 50 (2004): 187–213.

15

Julie Ann Plax, Watteau and the Cultural Politics of Eighteenth-Century France (Cambridge, 2000): 110. The quotation is from Lettres historiques et galantes.

16

Fiske Kimball, The Creation of the Rococo (Philadelphia, 1943): 64–71, 112–13; Rémy Saisselin, “The Rococo as Dream of Happiness,” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 19, 2 (Winter 1960): 146; Sedlmayr, “Synthesis,” 25; André Chastel, L’art français: ancien régime (Paris, 2000): 148; Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 1; Irmscher, “Style Rococo,” 343; Marc Fumaroli, “Retour à l’antique: la guerre des gouts dans l’Europe des Lumières,” in Guillaume Faroult et al. eds, L’antiquité rêvée (Paris, 2010): 47. Sedlmayr and Bauer see 1699 as a crucial year since it witnessed the reorganization of the Academy, the acceptance of the “Rubeniste” Roger de Piles into the Academy, the appointment of Jules Hardouin-Mansart to Surintendant des Bâtimens and Pierre Lepautre as his designer, and important new building and decorating campaigns at Meudon, Marly, and Versailles. [Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 248]

102 The Spiritual Rococo

17

Benedetta Craveri, The Age of Conversation (New York, 2006): 255. On the “revenge of Paris” see also Chastel, L’art français, 141; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 147; Plax, Watteau, 114; Joan DeJean, “A New Interiority: The Architecture of Privacy in Eighteenth-Century Paris,” in Bremer-David, ed., Paris: Life & Luxury, 33; Irmscher, “Style Rococo,” 343.

18

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 147; Dena Goodman, The Republic of Letters: A Cultural History of the French Enlightenment (Cornell, 1996): 84, 111.

19

Frederick Hammond, “The Creation of a Roman Festival: Barberini Celebrations for Christina of Sweden,” in Maria Giulia Barberini et al., Life and the Arts in the Baroque Palaces of Rome (New Haven and London, 1999): 54–7; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 97; DeJean, “A New Interiority,” 34. See also Hellman, “Furniture, Sociability, and Leisure,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 32, 4 (1999): 417–18. On convenance see Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 243.

20

Richard Etlin, Symbolic Space: French Enlightenment Architecture and its Legacy (Chicago, 1994): 130.

21

Saisselin, “Dream of Happiness,” 147; Kalnein, “Architecture in France,” 74; Richard Etlin, Symbolic Space, 132. DeJean, “A New Interiority,” 34–5. DeJean notes that the first appearance of the term “vie privée” was in a dictionary of 1690. See Mimi Hellman’s original take on Rococo furniture: Hellman, “Furniture, Sociability,” 415–45.

22

Heating was a major obstacle to comfort in eighteenth-century France and Louis XV was inspired to commission his Rococo apartments at Versailles after catching a terrifying two-month flu in 1737–1738 while sleeping in the bedroom of his great-grandfather [Penelope Hunter-Stiebel, “A Royal Taste: Louis XV, 1738,” Metropolitan Museum Journal 7 (1973): 103].

23

R. Mauzi and S. Menant, Littérature française: le XVIIIe siècle II, 1750–1778 (Paris, 1977): 62. On the development of the appartement see also Chastel, L’art français, 154. The team of ornemenistes included Morissant father and son, and Gervais [Pierre de Nolhac, Le château de Versailles sous Louis XV (Paris, 1898): 10]. Marie-Juliette Ballot characterized the same suite of rooms as “délicieuses décorations.” [Marie-Juliette Ballot, Le décor intérieur au XVIIIe siècle dans la région parisienne (Paris, 1930): 57].

24

Sheriff, Fragonard, 69.

25

Jacques-François Blondel, “Disposition (Architecture),” in Denis Diderot and Jean D’Alembert, eds, Encyclopédie ou dictionnaire raisonné XI (Geneva, 1777): 109. See also DeJean, “A New Interiority,” 34; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 242; Henry Francis Mallgrave, ed., Architectural Theory I (Malden, Oxford, Victoria, 2006): 138; Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 172. Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 107–8, 111. In the 1730s Mariette used the term gentilesse [Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 142].

26

Quoted and translated in Saisselin, 147. On the petit appartement see Bruno Pons, De Paris à Versailles, 1699–1736. Les sculpteurs ornemanistes parisiens et l’art décoratif des Bâtiments du Roi (Strasbourg, 1985): 142–5; Kalnein, Architecture in France, 50, 87.

27

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 81.

28

Steven Kale, French Salons: High Society and Political Sociability from the Old Regime to the Revolution of 1848 (Baltimore, 2004): 2.

29

Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 29. See also Marie-Claire Grassi, “Introduction,” in Antoine de Courtin, Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnête gens (ClermontFerrand, 1998): 17; Ballot, Le décor intérieur, 4.

30

Saisselin, “Rococo as Dream of Happiness,” 146–7, 151. The quotation is from Plax, Watteau, 114. See also Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 27; Ballot, Le décor intérieur, 3, 13; Etling, Symbolic Space, 133; Jean-François Bédard, Decorative Games: Ornament, Rhetoric, and Noble Culture in the Work of Gilles-Marie Oppenord (Lanham, MD, 2011): 17. On the Roman ideals of otium and negotium see David R. Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance Rome (Princeton, 1979): 9, 10–11.

31 Ballot, décor intérieur, 10, 14; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 35. People at first dined in the salon but increasingly architects created separate rooms for intimate dining [Whitehead, The French Interior, 84–5; Etlin, Symbolic Space, 132; Courtin, Paris au XVIIIe siècle, 169]. 32

Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 332. On the eighteenth-century salon see also: Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 84–6.

33 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 23. Geoffrin’s biographer Morellet specifically mentions paintings by Van Loo, Greuze, Vernet, Vien, la Grenée, and Robert. [André Morellet, Portrait de Madame Geoffrin (Paris, 1777), 32–3]. 34

Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 124, 27; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 73; Alastair Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings and the Diffusion of the Rococo,” in Henri Zerner, ed., Le stampe e la diffusione delle immagini e degli stili (Bologna, 1983): 109. See also Sedlmayr, “The Synthesis of the

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred” 103

Arts in Rococo,” 25; The quotation in the text is from Chastel, L’art français, 143. See also p. 151. It did not help matters that many of the proponents of the Rococo were born outside France or were of non-French ancestry: Cuvilliés was a Waloon, Oppenard’s father was Dutch, and Meissonnier was from Turin [Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 36] 35

Penelope Hunter-Stiebel, “The Continuing Curve” in Coffin, Rococo: The Continuing Curve, 7; D. Gene Karraker, Looking at European Frames: a Guide to Terms, Styles, and Techniques (Los Angeles, 2009): 19.

36 Bauer, Rocaille, 4–5; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 123–33; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 37–8, 61–2; Whitehead, The French Interior, 54; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 247–8. 37

See Carroll Durand, “The Apogee of Perspective in the Theatre: Ferdinando Bibiena’s Scena per angolo,” Theatre Research International 13 (1988): 21–9.

38

Michel Gallet, “Quelques Étapes Du Rococo Dans L’architecture Parisienne,” Gazette Des Beaux-arts, 67 (March 1966): 148; René Borricand, Les hôtels particuliers d’Aix-en-Provence (Aixen-Provence, 1971): 273; Guy Liégeois, Aix-en-Provence : Les hôtels particuliers, les fontaines et les oratoires (Aix-en-Provence, 2014): 81.

39

Quoted in Chastel, L’art français, 167; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 57, 74.

40 Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 150–54, 184–5, 201; Saisselin, “Dream of Happiness,” 148; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 57, 73; Sedlmayr, “The Synthesis of the Arts in Rococo,” 25; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 236. 41

Thierry Lot, Rambouillet au XVIIIe siècle (Rambouillet, 2010): 37–51.

42

See note 13. On the Rambouillet laiterie, by Jacques Jean Thévenin, see: Martin, Dairy Queens, 216–17; Sophie Cueille, Le domaine de Rambouillet (Paris, 2010): 54–7.

43

See Scott, The Rococo Interior, 13–43; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 237.

44

Quoted in Chastel, L’art français, 168.

45

On the “miniaturization” or “petitesse” of motifs see Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 200, 251; Chastel, L’art français, 145; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 70. Blondel believed that, in the words of Katie Scott, “interior décoration should, above all else, create a unified impression, analogous in this to the exterior treatment of the hôtel” [Scott, The Rococo Interior, 109].

46 Whitehead, French Interiors, 59. 47

Dorothea Nyberg, “Introduction,” in Meissonnier: an Eighteenth-Century Maverick (Bronx, 1969): 39. See also Bauer, Rocaille, 21–2; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 253.

48 Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 174, 192, 193. See also Sedlmayer and Bauer, “Rococo,” 241. 49

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 1–3; 14; Chastel, L’art français, 165–7.

50

Quoted and translated in Hellman, “Furniture,” 418. For Mercier’s more acerbic comments about the frivolous but costly luxuries to which Parisian society had fallen victim see Melchior-Bonnet, Histoire de la Frivolité, 76–7.

51

Hellman, “Furniture,” 418; Chastel, L’art français, 143, 145. See also Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 3.

52

Roland Michel, “ornement,” 68; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 63, 119; See also Désiré Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemanistes: dessinateurs, peintres, architectes, sculpteurs et graveurs. Écoles Française, Italienne, Allemande et des Pays-Bas I (Paris, 1880): 103–4, 115–18, 126–7, 141–4, 155–8, 162, 173–5. See also Peter Fuhring, Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier: un génie du Rococo II (Turin and London, 1999): 454–5, 466–7, 477, 480–81.

53 Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 152; Saisselin, “The Dream of Happiness,” 145; Fuhring Meissonnier I, 78ff; Bauer, Rocaille, 14–16; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 250; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 346. 54 Kalnein, The Architecture of France, 119. 55 Edmé-François Gersaint, Catalogue raisonné de coquilles, et autres curiosités naturelles (Paris, 1736): 7; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 340–41, 356. 56

On the culture of curiosity and its impact on the Rococo see Scott, The Rococo Interior, 167. On the combination of natural and artificial forms see Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 339. Meissonnier wrote of “fountains, cascades, ruins, rocailles and shell work … [which] produce bizarre, singular, and picturesque effects through their titillating and extraordinary forms.” [Quoted in Christopher Tadgell, “France,” in Anthony Blunt, ed. Baroque and Rococo Architecture and Décoration (New York, 1978): 139] Marianne Roland Michel characterizes the style as “a language of incongruity” [Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 131]. On the architectural nature of Meissonnier’s cartouches, see Bauer, Rocaille, 20–21; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 346.

104 The Spiritual Rococo

57

Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 15, 17, 23–5, 28.

58

On Meissonnier’s projects for Portugal, see Chapter 4. See also Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” 28, 39; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 346.

59 Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 25; Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 158; Edna Donnell, “Juste Aurèle Meissonnier and the Rococo Style,” Bulletin of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (December, 1941): 255–6] See also Fuhring, Meissonnier, 41; Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” 32–3; S. Lorentz “Mécénat et vie artistique en Pologne au XVIIIe siècle,” Annales. Économies, Sociétés, Civilisations 15, 1 (1960): 48–9. 60

Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” 32.

61

“Cabinet construit à Paris, pour être transporté en Pologne,” Mercure de France (July 1736): 1691–4.

62

The obituary also blames his imitators for spreading an even more debased version of his style throughout the world. [“Memoire sur M. Messonier,” Mercure de France (October 1750): 138–40]. See also Kalnein, Architecture of France, 119, 120.

63

Nyberg, “Introduction,” 19.

64 Kalnein, Architecture of France, 120. 65

Bruno Pons, L’hôtel de Roquelaure (Paris, 1988): 142–7; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 167, illus. 178, 180; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 121; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 339, 349. Sedlmayr and Bauer call him the originator of the genre pittoresque [Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 250].

66 Kalnein, Architecture of France, 123. 67

Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 116; Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 189; Bauer, Rocaille, 6–16.

68 Bauer, Rocaille, 5, 21, 38; See also Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 242. 69

On the cartouche, see: Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 140–42.

70

Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 242–3.

71

On Chinoiserie see Dawn Jacobson, Chinoiserie (London, 1993): 9–59; Chastel, L’art français, 167; Ballot, décor intérieur, 81–3. On singeries, see Garnier-Pelle et al, Singeries; Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 26–7.

72

Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 200; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 350.

73

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 28–9.

74

Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 139, 151; Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 200; Marie-Catherine Sahut and Florence Raymond, Antoine Watteau et l’art de l’estampe (Paris, 2010): cats. 75–8.

75

Ebba Krull, Franz Xaver Habermann (1721–1796): ein Augsburger Ornamentist des Rokoko (Augsburg, 1977): 9.

76

For lists of the artists and printmakers involved in the design and publication of French Rococo engravings, see Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemanistes I, 115–249 and Peter Fuhring, Designing the Décor: French Drawings from the Eighteenth Century (Lisbon, 2006): 333–47. On the importance of the printmakers in the development of an “extreme” rococo see Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 246, 251.

77

Roland Michel, “Ornement,” 68. See also Fuhring, Meissonnier, 13.

78

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 241–3; Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 33, 139; Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 53–63.

79

Peter Fuhring illustrates a drawing for Huquier’s advertisement (1749) [Fuhring, Meissonnier, I, 60].

80

Y. Bruant, “Un grand collectionneur, marchand et graveur … Gabriel Huquier,” Gazette des BeauxArts 6, 37 (July–Sept 1950): 107–8; Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 148–50; Roland Michel, “Ornement,” 72.

81

Roland Michel, “Ornement,” 69; Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 115.

82

Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 113.

83 Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 158–61; 172–3; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 247–8; Minguet, “Esthétique du rococo,” 189; Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 24. 84

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 242. Boffrand’s Livre d’architecture (1745) contains an extensive theoretical discussion on good taste and principles of architecture [Germain Boffrand, Book of Architecture (Caroline van Eck ed., and David Britt, trans. (Aldershot, 2002): 4–17].

85

Scott, The Rococo Interior, 243, 246; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 349; Nicolas Courtin, Paris au XVIIIe siècle: entre fantaisie rocaille et renouveau classique (Paris, 2013): 144.

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred” 105

86

These maps are preserved in the Archives Nationales d’Outre-Mer in Aix-en-Provence and were all drawn in Senegal: ANOM 17DFC/76/C (1769, after Delafosse); 17DFC/82/C (1769, after Lajoüe); and 17DFC/108/C (1779, after Meissonnier). The first two are by Doumet and the third is anonymous. I am currently researching a book on the arts and architecture of the French Atlantic Empire which will consider the eclectic use of styles from the institutional Baroque of Louis XIV to the Rococo and Neoclassicism, from West Africa to the Caribbean, Guiana to Quebec.

87

Philippe Béchu and Christian Taillard, Les hôtels de Soubise et de Rohan-Strasbourg (Paris, 2004): 354. See also pp. 328–416; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 205–11; Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 178–81; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 123–4; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 349.

88

For discussions of the various types of rooms and the progressive nature of the enfilade, see Alexandre Gady, Les hôtels particuliers de Paris (Paris, 2008): 74–87; Whitehead, French Interiors, 73–115; Etlin, Symbolic Space, 130–35.

89

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 331.

90

“Le regroupement de plusieurs d’entre elles en un même lieu a une signification précise” [Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 371].

91

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 371–2.

92

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 346, 372–3, 385–90, 396–7.

93

They are illustrated in Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 378–9.

94

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 335–7; 382.

95

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 389–90; 396–7, 402. For Restout’s suite of paintings, including Neptune and Amphitrite (1737), Secrecy and Prudence (1737), Apollo Teaching Cupid to Play the Lyre (1737), The Dispute of Neptune and Minerva (1738), and the Wager of Phoebus and Boreas (1738), see Christine Gouzi, Jean Restout, 1692–1768: Peintre d’histoire à Paris (Paris, 2000): 247–51.

96

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 403–4.

97

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 374–5, 398.

98

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 376–7, 399; Theresa M. Kelley, “Visual Suppressions, Emblems, and the ‘Sister Arts,’” Eighteenth-Century Studies 17, 1 (Autumn, 1983): 28–9, 34, 60.

99

Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 354.

100 Scott, The Rococo Interior, 208–9. See also Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 180–81. 101 Jean de La Fontaine, The Loves of Cupid and Psyche in Verse and Prose (Lockman, trans. and ed., London, 1744): 107–14. 102 Editor’s preface, La Fontaine, Loves of Cupid and Psyche, v. 103 La Fontaine, Loves of Cupid and Psyche, 240. 104 La Fontaine, Loves of Cupid and Psyche, 255. 105 Bechu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 359. 106 O. Van de Vyver, “Hugo, Herman,” in Charles E. O’Neill and Joaquín M. Domínguez, eds, Diccionario histórico de la Compañía de Jesús II (Rome and Madrid, 2001): 1965; Gabriele D. Rodter, Via piae animae: Grundlagenuntersuchung zur emblematischen Verknüpfung von Bild u. Wort in den ‘Pia desideria’ des Herman Hugo (Frankfurt, 1992); Mario Praz, Studies in Seventeenth-Century Imagery (Rome, 1964): 376; John Landwehr, Emblem Books in the Low Countries, 1554–1949: A Bibliography (Utrecht, 1970): no. 239; Charles Moseley, A Century of Emblems: An Introductory Anthology (London, 1989): 167; William A. McQueen, ed., A Selection of Emblems (Los Angeles, 1972), ii; Karel Porteman, Emblematic Exhibitions at the Brussels Jesuit College (1630–1685) (Brussels, 1996): 17. 107 Van de Vyver, “Hugo,” 1965; Karl Josef Höltgen, Aspects of the Emblem: Studies in the English Emblem Tradition and the European Context (Kassel: 1986): 49; McQueen, A Selection of Emblems, i. 108 Jean de La Fontaine, Les amours de Psyché et de Cupidon (Paris, 1803): 33. 109 La Fontaine, Psyché et Cupidon, 50; Hugo, Pia Desideria 125–6. 110 On the first Salon see Scott, The Rococo Interior, 252; Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 2–3; 159–60. Watteau, Boucher, Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin (1699–1779), Nicolas Lancret (1690–1743), and Natoire all contributed to decorative schemes, contributing figural landscapes, allegories, mythological pastorales, or un-peopled morceaux de fantasie specifically for overdoor cartouches, wall panels, room-dividers, and even fire screens. See Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 138, figs 173, 226; Melissa Hyde, Making Up the Rococo: François Boucher and his Critics (Los Angeles, 2006): 2; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 23–5, 27, 157. Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 33; Plax, Watteau, 108–9; Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 216.

106 The Spiritual Rococo

111 Sheriff, Fragonard, 129. See also pp. 148–52; Sheriff, “Rococo,” 465. 112 Louis-Jean Lévesque de Pouilly, The Theory of Agreeable Sensations (Edinburgh, 1766): 5. 113 Mary Vidal, Watteau’s Painted Conversations: Art, Literature and Talk in Seventeenth- and EighteenthCentury France (New Haven and London, 1992): 5, 14. This is essentially Norman Bryson’s point as well: “Watteau’s strategy is to release enough discourse for the viewer to begin to verbalise the image, but not enough in quantity or in specificity for the image to be exhausted.”[Norman Bryson, Word and Image: French Painting of the Ancien Régime (Cambridge 1981): 74]. Plax writes of “intense, yet unobjectifiable gazes” and “a crisscross of absorbed gazes.” [Plax, Watteau, 133–4] On some of the more creative clichés about Watteau’s work, see Bryson, pp. 65–9. 114 Vidal, Watteau’s Painted Conversations, 14; see also 31. 115 Vidal, Watteau’s Painted Conversations, 43. 116 Michael Fried, Absorption and Theatricality, Painting and Beholder in the Age of Diderot (Chicago 1980): 9; Goodman, Republic of Letters, 89. The concept of “absorption” is similar to what Norman Bryson calls “attention” [Bryson, Word and Image, 82]. 117 Fried, Absorption and Theatricality, 26–7, 31. 118 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 21–6; Craveri, The Age of Conversation, 300; Goodman, The Republic of Letters, 86; Martin Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté: Boucher and Religious Painting,” in Hyde and Ledbury, Rethinking Boucher, 61–2; Melissa Hyde, Making Up the Rococo, 6–7. Chastel, L’art française, 151; Morellet, Portrait, 31. Emma Barker, “Mme Geoffrin, Painting and Galanterie: Carle Van Loo’s Conversation espagnole and Lecture espagnole,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 40, 4 (Summer 2007): 588. The references to “friends” and “protégés” are from an anonymous writer at the Salon of 1755. These Monday gatherings were a political coup: “indicat[ing] the brilliance of Madame Geoffrin’s stratagem; other salonnières might have had men of letters or philosophers in their coterie, but only she had artists” [Radisich, Hubert Robert, 21]. 119 Morellet, Portrait, 32–3. 120 Morellet, Portrait, 33. He writes “Un amateur vouloit acheter un tableau, on le portoit ce jour là chez Madame Geoffrin, & les maîtres de l’art le jugeoient. M. Mariette y apportoit régulièrement un certain nombre de dessins des plus grands maîtres, qui formoient la collection précieuse & considérable qu’il a laissé à sa mort. Les gens du monde admis dans cette société y conoissoient les artistes personnellement, & se déterminoient plus aisément à mettre leurs talents en œuvre.” See also Radisich, Hubert Robert, 23. 121 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 22; Mary D. Sheriff, Moved by Love, Inspired Artists and Deviant Women in Eighteenth-Century France (Chicago, 2004): 104, 108. 122 Fried, Absorption and Theatricality, 25–7; Sheriff, Moved by Love, 104–10; Radisich, Hubert Robert, 23–6; Barker, “Mme Geoffrin,” 587–614. 123 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 29. 124 Sheriff, Moved by Love, 110; Barker, “Mme Geoffrin,” 589, 606 n. 10. 125 Sheriff, Moved by Love, 106, 110. 126 Barker, “Mme Geoffrin,” 589–90, 605. 127 See Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 77. 128 Béchu and Taillard, Les hôtels, 322. 129 Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 64; Scott, The Rococo Interior, 25. 130 Levey, Painting and Sculpture, 3. 131 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 15–20; Derek Beales, Prosperity and Plunder: European Catholic Monasteries in the Age of Revolution (Cambridge, 2003): 102–3. 132 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 18. 133 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 30. 134 Radisich, Hubert Robert, 28–32; Mary Vidal, “Looking Past the Mirror: Genre Painting Taken Seriously,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 36, 1 (2002): 103. 135 Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, “The Pleasures of Rethinking François Boucher,” in Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, eds, Rethinking Boucher (Los Angeles, 2006): 6; René Démoris, “Boucher, Diderot, Rousseau,” in Hyde and Ledbury, Rethinking Boucher, 201.

“As Bizarre a Style as Ever Occurred” 107

136 “Eh bien qu’étaient-ce que ces vierges? De gentilles petites caillettes. Et ses anges? De petits satyres libertins.” Denis Diderot, Salons (Michel Delon, ed, Paris, 2008): 107. For the quote from Renou see Démoris, “Boucher, Diderot, Rousseau,” 204. See also Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 61; Michael Levey, Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth-Century Painting (London, 1966): 100–103. 137 Alistair Laing, “Boucher et la pastorale peinte,” Revue de l’art (1986/1): 55–64 (the quotation is from p. 56). 138 Françoise Joulie, “Sujets religieux et derniers dessins,” in Françoise Joulie and Jean-François Méjanès, eds, François Boucher hier et aujourd’hui (Paris, 2003): 135. 139 Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 62, 81; Hyde, Making Up the Rococo, 2; Alden R. Gordon, “Le mécénat artistique de la Marquise de Pompadour et du Marquis de Marigny,” in Penelope Hunter-Stiebel et al., La volupté du gout: la peinture française au temps de Madame de Pompadour (Paris, 2008): 51. 140 The quotation is from his biographer Caylus, quoted in Chastel, L’art français, 146. 141 Vidal, Watteau’s Conversations, 58. 142 Vidal, Watteau’s Conversations, 58. 143 See John O’Malley, The First Jesuits (Cambridge MA, 1993): 46; Hans Belting, Likeness and Presence: A History of the Image before the Era of Art (Chicago and London, 1994): 410–19. 144 Joulie, “sujets religieux,” 135; Gordon, “Le mécénat artistique,” 51. 145 Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 73. 146 Scheider, “Between Grâce and Volupté,” 74. 147 Guillaume-François-Roger-Molé, Observations historiques et critiques sur les erreurs des peintres, sculpteurs, et dessinateurs dans la représentation des sujets tirés de l’histoire sainte II (Paris, 1771): 114. 148 Admittedly Watteau died before the most active period of patronage. See Monique de Savignac, Peintres d’églises à Paris au XVIIe siècle (Paris, 2002): 28–35 for a list of all the altarpieces in Paris and Versailles commissioned between 1720 and 1760. Natoire executed a Saint Etienne Preaching (1745–1746) for Saint-Germain des Prés, an Adoration of the Shepherds and Magi for the Chapelle de l’Hospice des Enfants-Trouvés (1748–1750), and Female Saints at the Tomb (lost) for Notre Dame (1752). Boucher did a Saint John the Baptist (after 1759) and St Peter Walking on Water for the church and sacristy in Saint-Louis in Versailles. See also Scheider, “Between Grace and Volupté,” 67. 149 See Marc Fumaroli, “Between the Rigorist Hammer and the Deist Anvil: The Fate of the Jesuits in Eighteenth-Century France,” in John W. O’Malley et al., eds, The Jesuits II: Cultures, Sciences and the Arts (Toronto, 2006): 684–5; Brian Strayer, Suffering Saints: Jansenists and Convulsionnaires in France, 1640–1799 (Eastbourne, 2012): 210–13; Savignac, Peintres d’églises, 25, 39, 51; John Goodman, “Jansenism, Parlementaire Politics, and Dissidence in the Art World of Eighteenth-Century Paris: The Case of the Restout Family,” in The Oxford Art Journal 18:1 (1995): 74–6. 150 Savignac, Peintres d’églises, 20, 98, 233; Guillaume Kazerouni, Peintures françaises du XVIIIe des églises de Paris, 14–15 ; Gouzi, Jean Restout, 30–31, 201–2. 151 Gouzi, Jean Restout, 320. 152 Gouzi, Jean Restout, 297, 303. 153 Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 268. 154 Vanuxem writes that rococo’s influence was “completely restricted in the vast public and religious buildings” [Vanuxem, “Notes,” 30]. 155 Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 127. Ironically, many of these very architects (Blondel, Cochin, Mariette, Leblanc) praised Meissonnier’s creativity, but as a silversmith [Nyberg, “Introduction”, 38]. See Alastair Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 110–13. 156 Robert Neuman, “French Domestic Architecture in the Early 18th Century: the Town Houses of Robert de Cotte,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 39, 2 (May, 1980): 128–44; Fuhring, Meissonnier, 15, 17, 23–5, 28; Marc Fumaroli, personal communication, 26 October 2010, Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Paris. See also Roland Michel, Lajoüe, 138. 157 Roland Michel, “Ornement,” 68. On the duties of the Dessinateur de la Chambre et du Cabinet du Roi see Fuhring, Meissonnier, 25–8; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 119. 158 Kalnein, Architecture of France, 119. See also Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” 28.

108 The Spiritual Rococo

159 For the Boffrand quote, see: Meredith Martin, “The Ascendancy of the Interior in EighteenthCentury French Architectural Theory,” in Denise Amy Baxter and Meredith Martin, Architectural Space in Eighteenth-Century Europe (Farnham, 2010): 27. 160 Rudolf Wittkower, Art and Architecture in Italy: 1600–1750 (London, 1991): 188; Anthony Blunt, Art and Architecture in France 1500–1700 (New Haven and London, 1999): 219–23; Tadgell, “France,” 123–34. 161 Wittkower, Art and Architecture in Italy, 187. 162 Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 144; Dictionnaire des églises de France IV (Paris, 1968): 108–10. 163 Fuhring, Meissonnier, II, 170, figs. 100–101. 164 Sarah McFee, Bernini and the Bell Towers: Architecture and Politics at the Vatican (New Haven and London, 2002): 165. 165 Françoise Hamon, “Les églises parisiennes du XVIIIe siècle. Théorie et pratique de l’architecture cultuelle,” Revue de l’art, 32 (1976): 10; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 48 110; Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 43; II, 170–72. See also Nyberg, “Introduction,” 40; Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” 26; Bédard, Decorative Games, 19. 166 All but the Bernini church are discussed as models in Fuhring, Meissonnier II, 170. 167 Kalnein, Architecture of France, 109; Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 185; Chastel, L’art français, 164; Tadgell, “France,” 138–9. On the commission see Fuhring, Meissonnier, I 43, II 170–71, cat. 108. It appears on page 56 in Livre d’Ornemens: “Projet du portail de l’Eglise de St. Sulpice de Paris présenté a Mr le Curé de St Sulpice en 1726.” Nyberg traces the kind of comment made by Kalnein to Meissonnier’s critics in the eighteenth century, who could not accept that a silversmith could design a building [Nyberg, “Introduction,” 40]. In Blondel’s critique of the façade he writes of the “movement of the plan [of the façade] and the tormented and licentious forms” of the elevation are “more reminiscent of the skillful silversmith’s chisel than that of the ruler and compass by which the architect penetrates the mysteries of his art” [Quoted in Nyberg, “Introduction,” 40]. 168 Fuhring, Meissonnier, II, 204; cat. 82. 169 Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 43; II, 172–3, cat. 112. 170 The later Altar of the Sacred Heart, by François-Thomas Mondon (1748) also contains Rococo elements, notably the shellwork and cartouche in the framing arch, but otherwise the design is simple and classical. For an illustration see Martha Mel Edmunds, “Gabriel’s Altar for the Palace Chapel at Versailles,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 65, 4 (December 2006): figure 28. 171 Chastel, L’art français, 164; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 112; Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 43, II, cat 104; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 119. Nyberg characterizes Servandoni’s façade as: “utterly ‘safe’ as a choice for a monumental church facade in the French capital: it looks backward to the classicistic trend in the late seventeenth century at least as much as it looks forward to Neo-classical architecture …” [Nyberg, “Introduction,” 42]. 172 Bruno Pons, The James A. de Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor: Architecture and Painting (Aylesbury, 1996): 153. 173 Alexandre Maral et al., La Chapelle Royale de Versailles (2010): 42; Pons, De Paris à Versailles, 102; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 38; Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 83; Chastel, L’art français, 133. Royal architect Ange-Jacques Gabriel, who oversaw some of the most important Rococo apartments in the same palace in the 1730s, created an even more restrained version of the Gloria sunburst for his much later Altar of the Sacred Heart in the same chapel (1765–1773) as did Charles Rébillé in the crossing vault of the Paris church of Nôtre-Dame des Victoires (1737–1740). On Gabriel’s Altar of the Sacred Heart see Edmunds, “Gabriel’s Altar for the Palace Chapel at Versailles,” 550–77. 174 Kimball, Creation of the Rococo, 185; Kalnein, Architecture of France, 109. 175 Pons, Paris, Versailles, 92–3; Fuhring, Meissonnier I, 72; Dumoulin et al, Paris d’église en église, 103. 176 ENSBA, Est Les 099, ff. 10a–11b; 12a; 31a–33a; Est Les 098, ff. 63a–64b; 84a–85b; 94a–95b; 50a–54b; Est Les 040, f. 68a. 177 ENSBA Est Les 099, f. 32b. 178 Chastel, L’art français, 159; Kalnein, Architecture in France, 101. 179 See René Villeneuve, Baroque to Neo-Classical Sculpture in Quebec (Ottawa, 1997) and Madeleine Landry and Robert Derome, L’art sacré en Amérique française (Quebec City, 2005). 180 The Verrier and Houel elevations are preserved in the Outre-Mer archives in Aix-en-Provence [ANOM F3/290/42; 13DFC139A].

3 “Bright Shining as the Stars”:1 Spiritual Rococo in Central Europe

In France the Rococo reflected a material world that although infused with a spirituality of joy and honnêteté was largely restricted to domestic interiors. It was in Catholic Central Europe that Rococo was fully realized as a religious style, moving from the intimate spaces for which it was created to some of the grandest abbey and pilgrimage churches in Europe (Figs. 3.1, 3.2, 3.25, Plate 5); its cartouches and rocailles reaching a scale and vigor never dreamed of in Paris—at least beyond the printed fantasies of Pierre-Edmé Babel, Jacques Lajoüe, and Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier (for example, Figs. 2.14, 2.17, 3.35).2 Rococo arrived at a propitious time of immense building activity during which 200 churches of “artistic importance” were built in Bavaria, Swabia, and Franconia alone between 1700 and 1780, compared with less than half over the previous 120 years, and when popular piety—especially pilgrimages and feast-day processions—was dramatically on the rise.3 By the 1740s pilgrimage sites in Southern Germany alone were welcoming 100,000 faithful a year.4 The fundamental enigma of why a profane style was embraced for religious décor has baffled scholars since well before Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer noted that “[n]owhere in Europe did the rococo, which came from the courtly sphere, penetrate so deeply into church and folk art as in Southern Germany,” and as recently as 2009 Günther Irmscher still poses the “central question of why in Central Europe an ornament was also adopted for the sacred realm which in its place of origin … was unambiguously connoted as profane, erotic and at times lascivious,” yet does not answer it.5 As noted in the Introduction Bauer, Karsten Harries, and Robert Harbison to varying degrees challenged the authenticity of Rococo spirituality, and Philippe Minguet states that the existence of patterns for Rococo church furnishings in the Augsburg printing houses “explains the question of religious rococo”— yet he does not provide the motive for printing these models in the first place.6 Michael Yonan and Christiane Hertel probe more deeply into the spirituality of Germanic Rococo, discovering relationships between décor and divinity, which to my mind relate quite closely to the way Rococo works in the French domestic interior. Both French and German Rococo celebrate

3.1 Dominikus Zimmermann, nave, Church of “Die Wies” (Wieskirche), Bavaria, 1745–1754. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 111

nature and play and encourage fluid yet disjointed observation over the focused concentration of the Baroque—whether in a church or palace—with its manipulative use of perspective and theatrical effects. In Central Europe religious Rococo’s playful refusal to follow an illusionistic presentation of dogmatic truth creates, according to Hertel, an “interference” with people’s ideas of spirituality that encourages them to engage more interactively and idiosyncratically with their faith, responding to a new freedom and “spiritual anarchy” in Central European piety that manifested itself particularly in pilgrimage cults as an alternative and sometimes challenge to the authority of the Church.7 Similarly, Yonan remarks that Rococo mediates iconographic or narrative information in a way that denies the viewer a clear understanding of the divine, forcing her to make sense of it using the imagination and the senses, a dynamic meditative method like the “composition of place” of Ignatius of Loyola’s Spiritual Exercises (1548) as Ernst Mundt first noted in relation to the Rococo church interior.8 In Chapter 2 I discussed a similar disruption of peoples’ expectations through the use of papillotage in French Rococo décor and painting—Mary Sheriff’s “flickering between illusion and awareness”—and in Chapter 1 I explored how the literature of the Spiritual Rococo used a free-form, worldly approach to religion, often presented in an intentionally disjointed way (as with the Abbé Trublet) to challenge the intransigence of the established church. It is precisely Rococo’s function as a mediation between viewer and viewed—no other style in Western art was so ably positioned to complicate

3.2 Chancel, Wieskirche. Photo: Author

112 The Spiritual Rococo

3.3 Interior with iconostasis, St. Andrew’s, Kiev, by Bartolomeo Rastrelli, 1747–1762. Photo: Author

our understanding of the role of the frame—which is at the foundation of ecclesiastical Rococo in Central Europe. It encourages viewers to look beyond the sureties of the established Church and the Baroque Theatrum Sacrum toward something more individualistic and even rebellious. As I have already noted for the decorative programs of enfilades in French hôtels particuliers, Germanic Rococo interiors work best when experienced episodically, in other words while walking through them. Yonan, for example, notes that the multiple viewpoints in a Bavarian Rococo church interior encourage a pilgrimage-like act of processing through the building: “[m]ovement is more than just a stylistic quality enacted in the church’s rocaille ornamentation; the rococo ornament’s incitement of movement stages a particularly human relationship to the divine.”9 Although they are beyond the scope of this book, I have noted a similar interactive quality in Rococo Orthodox churches—such as the Church of the Holy Spirit in Vilnius (Johann Christoph Glaubitz, begun 1753) or Bartolomeo Rastrelli’s St. Andrew’s in Kiev (1747–1762; Fig. 3.3)—where multiple altars and the ambulatory nature of Orthodox worship place people and images in a very personal, interactive relationship.10 Rococo décor asks the worshipper personally to probe and make sense of divine truth, to find God using the faculty that Immanuel Kant (1724–1804) placed at the foundation of the Enlightenment: the calling to think freely. Another link between Rococo and spirituality is its affinity with the Gothic. The importance given to light—it is a metaphor for divinity and gives the interior a sensation of weightlessness and the miraculous—is quintessentially medieval, and like many Rococo interiors Gothic churches enhance its mystery through indirect lighting, the windows hidden from view upon entering by wall pillars and side chapels.11 Medieval and Rococo churches also typically set the choir apart as a separate, sacred place, making it look in Harries’ words like “a picture within a picture” (Figs. 3.2, 3.33, 3.39).12 Eighteenth-century structures frequently adopted medieval church plans such as the hall-choir

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 113

and basilica. Gothic also anticipates Rococo in its elongated, twisting polychrome statues; the attenuated, brittleness of its decorative elements— especially its tracery-like treatment of stucco décor—and its enthusiasm for pushing media to their technical limits to create supernatural sensation. The Flügelaltar, a winged altarpiece combining sculpture and painting (Fig. 3.4) remains the essential model for its Rococo successors—as in the filigreed superstructures of the side altars at Högersdorf or high altar at Eschlbach, both near Munich (Joseph Anton Bader, 1770s; Matthias Fackler, ca. 1765) (Fig. 3.5), or the spectacular Gothic-Rococo side altars at Kladruby Abbey (Cosmas Damian Asam, 1725–1726). Rococo also shares with late Gothic the decorative, often playful treatment of vault ribs, as epitomized in Benedikt Ried’s Vladislav Hall in Prague Castle (ca 1490s).13 A later Czech architect, Jan SantiniAichel (1677–1723), seized upon these commonalities to develop a hybrid Gothic-Baroque/Rococo style that was one of the most creative architectural innovations of his era. His crowning achievement is the pilgrimage chapel of Saint John Nepomuk at Žd’ár nad Sázavou (1719–1722), a centrally planned structure on a pentagonal plan with a playful and seemingly irrational tracery of ribs that was at once structural and decorative.14 In Central Europe Rococo appealed to a new exteriorization of religion and a popular belief that heavenly happiness was linked to earthly paradise, one in which the very landscape was crisscrossed by pilgrimage routes and churches, wayside shrines and crosses, holy trees, springs, and valleys.15 The greatest pilgrimage churches of the Germanic Rococo celebrated miracles revealed to shepherds or forest-dwelling anchorites: such is the 1738 cult of a rural statue of a weeping Christ cared for by farmer’s widow Maria Lori, which led to the construction of the church “Die Wies” (the meadow) on the site of her farm (Figs. 3.1, 3.2); the 14 saintly Nothelfer (“Helpers in Need”) who appeared to a shepherd in Saxony (Vierzehnheiligen) (Fig. 3.6); the statue of the Virgin of Sorrows, which gazed at her crucified son in the high altar of a parish church in a gentle valley in Swabia in 1730 (Maria Steinbach); or the renewed devotion to the early Christian forest hermit Saint Meinrad in a forested glade in Switzerland (Einsiedeln).16 As noted in the last chapter French Rococo interiors were meant physically to refresh visitors, cleansing them before they returned to the cares of the world. Pilgrimages demanded the same thing of their participants: as Yonan remarks pilgrims “return home spiritually transformed, altered in one’s faith and righted on the path toward salvation.”17 There is no great ideological chasm between this sensation of religious renewal and the bucolic rejuvenation sought in the salons, hameaux, and “pleasure-dairies” of the French eighteenth century. In Central Europe religious Rococo was above all the language of the countryside, where it enjoyed its greatest florescence and longevity. Churches like Die Wies were substantially financed by pilgrims and rural confraternities, sometimes against the wishes of suspicious local clerics. In places like Oberbayern and the Tyrol Rococo manifested itself particularly in village churches and rural chapels and the style lasted longer there than in the cities.18

114 The Spiritual Rococo

3.4 Hans Ulrich Glöckler, HeiligkreuzAltar, 1592. St. Nikolaus, Überlingen, Swabia. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

Most of the great Stukkatoren (stucco masters), architects, and craftsmen were also of peasant stock, from farms and hamlets near abbeys that promoted craft production—especially the major stucco center of Wessobrunn but also the masonry and stucco workshops of Rott am Inn and the carpentry ateliers of Tegernsee, all in Bavaria. Piety governed these artists’ lives. Architect Egid Qurin Asam nearly bankrupted himself building the Munich church of Saint John Nepomuk (1733–1746) next to his house and his brother Cosmas Damian followed suit with a chapel adjacent his own dwelling in Thalkirchen; architect Dominikus Zimmermann (1685–1766) painted an ex-voto in thanksgiving to

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 115

3.5 Matthias Fackler, High Altar, St. Mariä Geburt, Eschlbach, Bavaria, ca. 1765. Photo: Author

the Christ of Die Wies and retired to a house opposite the church; his son Franz Xaver Dominikus (1714–1786) married Maria Lori in 1750, helping her run the pilgrims’ inn at Die Wies; and another son was a monk at Schussenried and a daughter the abbess of Gutenzell. 19 Perhaps the most dramatic expression of faith was that of the teenage craftsmen of Wessobrunn, Tegernsee, and other Central European craft centers who joined the Society of Jesus between the 1720s and 1750s solely to serve the missions in southern South America (see Chapter 5). The rustic nature of Germanic spirituality and its association with pleasurable outdoor activities like walking, visiting inns, and picnicking certainly added to the appeal of the style that gave us the fête galante. But these ties to the land do not make Central European Rococo the product of a naïve, essentially medieval farmer’s faith as scholars such as Bernhard Rupprecht would have it: “a farmer’s happiness in the joyful multi-hued color play, a sparkling color fairy tale, a sumptuous cluttering and superficiality of spiritual sensuality.”20 The level of intellectual engagement at the great abbeys, colleges, and cathedrals of Catholic Germanic lands in this period called the “Early Enlightenment” or “Catholic Enlightenment” (from ca. 1730) was distinguished and far from reactionary, and their work resonated throughout society at large, from lay princes and lesser nobility to the growing middle class and even farmers, who by this period were increasingly literate.21 Catholic intellectuals, particularly Benedictines, Augustinian Canons Regular,

3.6 Johann Michael Feichtmayr, Gnadenaltar, Pilgrimage church of Vierzehnheiligen, Franconia, 1763. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 117

and Piarists, opened up a dialogue with natural science and philosophy like that of the writers of the French Christianity of Reason, even joining secular institutions such as the Bavarian Academy of Sciences (established 1759) and founding scholarly journals, in an attempt to reconcile Enlightenment writers such as Kant, Christian Wolff (1679–1754), and even the atheist David Hume (1711–1776) with Scripture, scholasticism, and the history and traditions of the church.22 A recent study has revealed that at enlightened Benedictine foundations such as Prüfening near Regensburg, monks were required to pursue an academic subject; some, as at Melk, organized a kind of salon based on the ideal of sociability (Geselligkeit), which included intellectuals and nobles from outside the monastery, and the Benedictine Augustin Schelle (1742–1805) of Tegernsee even founded a “secret Enlightenment society” (1783–1784) that included women.23 The independence different abbeys had from one another—a quite different relationship from the top-down structure of the Jesuits or Franciscans—further encouraged each to follow its own school of thought. The Catholic Enlightenment was part of a larger movement akin to French trends in rational spirituality, which some scholars call “Physicotheology”— it sought to support Christian beliefs through deductive reasoning, in its most radical form even contemplating aspects of Deism.24 More relevant to the pastoral nature of Rococo imagery was a development within Physicotheology that celebrated God’s creation as a manifestation of his glory, which in Thomas Saine’s words “undoubtedly led to a new appreciation of nature, both concretely and in the abstract.”25 Happiness was also a major concern of the German Catholic Enlightenment as a just goal on this earth and not merely an earthly rehearsal for happiness in God: Abbot Marianus II Mayer, supervisor of the Wieskirche from 1744, wrote about the newly finished church “here happiness resides, here the heart is quiet” and Hertel has cited references to worldly pleasure in letters by Rococo sculptor Ignaz Günther (1725–1775) and architect Johann Balthasar Neumann (1687–1753), architect of Vierzehnheiligen, using terms (Glückseligkeit, Vergnügen) that were traditionally only applied to heavenly bliss—in Neumann’s case he was referring specifically to the effect he hoped to achieve with his own work.26 This optimism was directly linked to its counterpart in France. Inspired by the example of French reformers such as the Benedictine scholar Jean Mabillon (1632–1707), Benedictine abbeys exchanged letters and academic personnel with their French counterparts, bringing to Germany the ideas of the likes of Nicolas Malebranche or François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon—they even had what Ulrich Lehner calls a “highly sophisticated inter-library loan system,” which allowed for the free exchange of books between their institutions throughout the Continent—and they sent monks to study in Paris.27 Central European Religious orders and lay organizations of all kinds also collected an astonishing number of French published sermons and treatises of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason—many printed in German in Augsburg and elsewhere—as is demonstrated in the holdings listed

118 The Spiritual Rococo

3.7 François de Cuvilliés and Johann Baptist Zimmermann, Parade Bedroom, Munich Residenz, 1731. Photo: Author

in Appendix A but not acknowledged, as far as I am aware, in the scholarship. Not a few religious, Benedictine monks among them, even supported the French Revolution as a way toward a civic, enlightened Christianity.28 Three centers formed the crucible of Rococo in Southern Germany. One was Munich and the court of the Francophile Elector Max Emanuel (1662–1726), who acquired a taste for French styles during his exile (1708–1715) at the court of Louis XIV and whose court architect François Cuvilliés (1695–1768) designed the most important monuments of the early Rococo in Germany for Max Emanuel’s son Karl Albrecht (1697–1745): the reiche Zimmer in the Munich Residenz (1730–1733) (Fig. 3.7) and the Amalienburg pavilion at Nymphenburg (1734–1739) (Fig. 3.8).29 The second was Augsburg, an even more prolific publishing center than the Rue Saint-Jacques, producing not only the largest volume of Rococo ornamental prints—from direct copies of French designs to wild new inventions—but also the greatest number of French spiritual books in translation. The third was Wessobrunn and its surrounding cluster of villages where stucco workers introduced Rococo as a vernacular style of religious décor into Bavaria and Switzerland as early as the 1710s, probably through exposure to French prints or drawings.30 The three hubs were intimately interrelated, even in a single figure: Stukkator Johann Baptist Zimmermann (1680–1758) for example was trained in Wessobrunn, collaborated with Cuvilliés at court in Munich, and published his works in the Augsburg printing houses. Germanic Rococo church décor was by no means a mere adaptation of French motifs. Even before the arrival of the first French decorative prints German stucco artists were already exploring an aesthetic very close to that of

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 119

Rococo, and afterward they combined the French style with earlier stucco forms such as Netherlandish strap-work and auricular motifs (see Introduction) and Italian Baroque acanthus and garland work: as Harries remarks “the Bavarian rococo did not originate with the introduction of rocaille, but only adopted rocaille out of an essential affinity.”31 The most significant difference from French interiors is that Germanic churches combined Rococo décor with Italianate ceiling frescoes, both the “air-borne, properly rococo manner” of Venice, full of seemingly random clusters of cloudbursts and floating figures, and the more grounded Roman perspectival traditions of Baciccio (Giovanni Battista Gaulli, 1639–1709) and Andrea Pozzo (1642–1709), the latter based on a framework of feigned architecture. Although the Roman variant had been widespread in Central Europe since the end of the seventeenth century (Figs. 3.17, 3.18), eighteenth-century designers transformed them by intentionally distorting the perspective and revealing the falseness of their illusionism.32 This synthesis of forms—French, Germanic, Italian; stucco, sculpture, and painting—was so fundamentally characteristic of the Central European church interior that German architectural theorists such as Johann Friedrich Penther (1744) or Johann Christian Gottshed (1760) defined “ornament” (Bau-Zierden, Ornamenta, Ornemens) or “decoration” (Verzierung) as encompassing decorative carving, sculpture, and painting alike—or as Sigrid Hofer puts it, “the entire scope of

3.8 François de Cuvilliés and Johann Baptist Zimmermann, Amalienburg, Nymphenburg Palace, Munich, 1734–1739. Photo: Author

120 The Spiritual Rococo

artistic creation.”33 Distinct from French Rococo with its boiseries, the Germanic variety—in religious interiors at least—developed primarily in stucco, a technique introduced into Central Europe by Italians or Swiss Italians such as Giovanni Battista Carlone (1603–1684). Thanks to its malleability stucco allowed Germanic Rococo to transgress boundaries between architecture, sculpture, and painting more completely than ornament had done in France: stucco cartouches, plant forms, and figures peeled off walls and crawled into frescoes and over window sills, and decorative forms metamorphosed into landscapes or narrative scenes beyond the wildest dreams of even the most naturalistic of their Parisian counterparts (compare Figs. 2.15, 3.7).

The Master Printers of Augsburg The capital of Rococo décor in Central Europe was the Imperial Free City of Augsburg, a leading center for painting with its own academy from 1710 and the region’s printing powerhouse.34 The ornamental prints published by its 23 presses had a much greater influence over artists and craftsmen than did Cuvilliés and his Munich court style. Printers such as Jeremias Wolff (d. 1724), Johann Georg Merz (1694–1762), and Johann Georg Hertel the Elder (1704–1783) reproduced a colossal number of designs by nearly all the major French decorators, including Jean Berain, Nicolas Pineau, JeanBaptiste Delafosse, Jean-Baptiste Pillement, Babel, Jean Mondon, François Boucher, Antoine Watteau, Pierre Ranson, and Jacques Lajoüe, sometimes attributed, sometimes not.35 After a brief fashion for the Regency style it was the most exuberant of the French designers who made the greatest impact on Augsburg and Germany’s stucco masters: Merz’s editions of the cartouches of Mondon and Lajoüe and Hertel’s suite of cartouche designs by Babel were decisive in ensuring the prominence of that form in Central Europe. Not satisfied with copying or imitating nearly the entire output of the Rue Saint-Jacques Augsburg printers generated an even greater volume of original work that quickly acquired the designation “Augsburger Geschmack” (Augsburg taste), a more vigorous, amplified form of even the most animated French inventions, characterized by the nineteenth-century French scholar Désiré Guilmard as “pushed to its ultimate limit” and “descend[ing] into exaggeration and poor taste” (Figs. 3.9, 3.10, 3.13).36 More to the point they also published the greatest volume of models for ecclesiastical furnishings and subjects, a production that was a mere sideline for the Paris presses. Unlike in France, where ornamental prints usually appeared in larger cahiers or pseudo-books (livres) and were often marketed to wealthy curiosity collectors, Augsburg engravings were almost exclusively published in folios of four or five sheets, and aimed primarily at craftsmen, as indicated in some of their titles: Johann Jacob Baumgartner called his book of rocaille designs Ganz neu und nach jetziger Manier wohl eingerichtes Zeichen Buch for gute Anfänger (“Totally new drawing book, fitted out completely in the latest style for good beginners”)

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 121

3.9 Franz Xaver Habermann, rocaille from series 111 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel. Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung

and Johann Rumpp’s book of cartouches was named Neu inventierte auf die artigste façon sehr nützliche Schild (“Newly-invented and very useful shield[s] in the latest fashion).37 The folios were usually numbered, although by no means consecutively—the highest numbered folio in Martin Engelbrecht’s press is 613, yet only the first 100 are approximately complete, a large portion of folios 100–200 are missing, and only eight folios are known with numbers higher than 200.38 Studying them is intimidating since not only are they undated and rarely titled but even when they bear signatures it is often hard to distinguish between the designer, the engraver, and the publisher and later editions of the work of one artist (for example, Franz Xaver Habermann, 1721–1796) could be published by another printer (for example, Johann Baptist Klauber, 1712–1787) without crediting him.39 Except for porcelain manufacturers artists tended to use Rococo ornamental prints as inspirations rather than literal models, so that it is usually impossible to trace an altarpiece, pulpit, or even individual motif to a specific source. This practice may also explain some of the wilder— at times frankly unbuildable—creations such as the retable models by Ignaz Carl Junck (fl. 1740–1760), Balthasar Sigmund Setlezki (1695–1771), Georg Michael Roscher (fl. ca. 1700–1750), and Christian Friedrich Rudolf (1692– after 1754), which metamorphose so whimsically from structure to ornament that they at times verge on self-parody (Fig. 3.10). Irmscher maintains that such prints were meant not for craftsmen but for collectors interested in the abstract concept of ingenium (creative genius) but they could equally be meant to inspire craftsmen to exercise their own ingenium.40 The number of prints was matched by the geographic diversity of the printers. Augsburg attracted designers from Silesia (Junck, fl. from 1736, and Gottfried Bernhard Goez, 1708–1774), Moravia (Johann Evangelist

122 The Spiritual Rococo

3.10 Ignaz Carl Junck, altarpiece model from series 35, engraved by Jacob Gottlieb Thelott and published by Georg Hertel, Augsburg, 1740–1760. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

Holzer, 1709–1740), the Tyrol (Jeremias Wachsmuth, 1711–1771, and Johann Wolfgang Baumgartner, 1712–1761), Berlin (Johann Michael Leuchte, d. 1759), and even Sweden (Johann Esaias Nilson, 1721–1799), and they included Catholics, Protestants, and Jews.41 This cosmopolitanism contrasted with the localized training of the Wessobrunner Stukkatoren, although the Wessobrunner travelled great distances to work on projects and some contributed to the Augsburg presses. Publishers specialized in certain artists or kinds of print, whether allegories, mythological scenes, portraits, domestic interiors, fountain and garden designs, models for porcelains and furniture, or even academic thesis prints. Ecclesiastical subjects were the domain of the Hertel and Engelbrecht presses, the former begun in 1739 and the latter amalgamated in 1735.42 Hertel’s curriculum vitae was typical of the time: a Stukkator as a youth, he moved to Augsburg to find work and trained as a printer and engraver, finally acquiring part of Wolff’s press with the inheritance of his son-in-law Johann Balthasar Probst (1673–1748).43 Engelbrecht partnered with his brother Christian (1672–1735), taking over the family business upon Christian’s death and after his death it passed to his son-in-law Christian Wilhelm.44 Hertel promoted some of the most important protagonists of the Augsburger Geschmack, especially Habermann, but also Wachsmuth, Emanuel Eichel the Younger (1717–1782), and his own son Georg Leopold Hertel (1740– 1778). The Engelbrecht press published a wider range of designers, including Johann Leonhard Eisler (fl. ca. 1731), Johann Bauer (d. 1760), Carl Pier/Puer, Rumpp (fl. ca. 1760), Johann Wolfgang Baumgartner, Wachsmuth, Gottfried Craaz (fl. 1740s–1760s), Leuchte, Baumann, Johann Georg Pintz (1697–1767), Setlezki, and Georg Gottfried Winckler (1711–1780), as well as Habermann, who although a house artist for Hertel was not adverse to publishing with other presses. The sculptor Habermann was Augsburg’s most prolific designer of ecclesiastical décor and as we will see in later chapters by far the most influential internationally. He made over 500 prints between 1747 and about 1770, including—in addition to his church furnishings—portals in the

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 123

Classical orders, domestic furniture, frames, sedan chairs, coaches, stage sets, designs for locksmiths and goldsmiths, capricci, and abstract cartouches and rocailles.45 Although his work is undated Ebba Krull has divided his more abstract studies into three stylistic phases. During the first (1746–1750) his cartouches were like those of Lajoüe, with bulky architectural scrolls and rocailles framing recessed grottoes and fountains in landscapes; during the next (1750–1765) the scrolls become more attenuated and elastic, forming empty frames and abandoning structural logic (Fig. 3.9); and during the final phase (1765–1770) the rocailles become even thinner and brittle like dry twigs, possibly reflecting a developing taste for Chinoiserie as I see an extraordinary similarity to Chinese landscape painting and wood-block prints, and it may have been inspired directly by the Chinese silk wallpapers with similar rock formations installed in the Badenburg pavilion at the Nymphenburg Palace in the 1720s and 1750s.46 Unfortunately Krull’s chronology does not help date Habermann’s ecclesiastical designs since his church décor and furnishings are too closely bound to structural practicalities to reveal such a clear stylistic development. Mostly based on a solid architectural structure set on high plinths with wings of freestanding columns or thick pilasters and heavy scrolls supporting the pediment, they reserve the most decorative role for the center: the altar table, frame, and above all the pediment, which often frames a sunburst (Figs. 4.34, 5.13, 5.15, 5.31, 5.44). The impressive number of Augsburg ecclesiastical folios and of artists working on them reflects a serious market for church décor in Central Europe, one that predates the Rococo with patterns for altarpieces and pulpits in Italianate or Regency styles by artists such as Johann Jacob Schübler (1689–1741), Leuchte, and Probst. Altarpiece and pulpit designs are the most numerous: not including Cuvilliés (about whom more below) altarpiece designs comprise Hertel folios by Habermann (numbers 34, 49, 80, 98, 113, 160, and 300; 98 was engraved by Winckler), Junck (39, Differents ornements oder Unterschiedliche Außzierungen), Roscher (60), I.G. Koenig (88), Eichel (78), Wachsmuth (224), and an unnumbered series by Setlezki.47 The Engelbrecht press brought out folios by Iacob Gottlieb Thelot (1708–1760; 54) and Carl Puer.48 Independent altarpiece designers include Joseph Feichtmayr, who issued three folios with Johann Simon Negges (ca. 1726–1792) and Goez, and the prolific Klaubers.49 Next in terms of volume were pulpit design folios, again led by Habermann, who was featured in Hertel folios 37, 119, 166, 298, and 304.50 The Hertel press also issued pulpit folios by Wachsmuth (1, 112), Junck (31), and G.P. Schillinger (208).51 Engelbrecht published an additional pulpit set by Habermann (116), as well as the work of Junck (31), Puer (68), and Winckler (no number) and a Number 66 signed only with Engelbrecht’s name.52 Confessional designs were issued by Hertel, including a set by Junck and Thelot (31), another by Junck alone (37), and one by Klauber, mostly unsigned (272), and the Engelbrecht press brought out two suites of confessionals by Puer (63 and 83).53 Other church furnishings included tabernacles by Hertel (number 18; he was also the designer) and Klauber;

124 The Spiritual Rococo

3.11 Philipp David Danner, Saint Rupert, Bishop of Salzburg (engraving), Augsburg, ca. 1750. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung

organ cases by Hertel and Habermann (117) and Hertel and Roscher (93); crucifix stands by Hertel and Wachsmuth (115) and Engelbrecht and Puer (56) and Engelbrecht and Rumpp (published with other kinds of object), and epitaphs by Hertel and Wachsmuth (10, 113), and Christian Friedrich Rudolf and Setlezki (Nouveau Livre de diverses Desseins, qui peuvent servir à differens ouvriers, pour Tabernacles, Autels, Epitaphes, et d’autres).54 The French titles of some of these series show that they were intended for an international audience and in fact some were reissued by French presses, at times passing them off as the work of French artists, as with Habermann’s folio of pulpits number 119, which was printed in Paris with very minor changes as the work of Jean-Dominique-Etienne Le Canu and François-Philippe Charpentier.55 Even more numerous were the devotional prints, biblical illustrations, and calendar sets of saints (one per day of the year) issued in the thousands by the presses of Joseph Sebastian (1700–1768) and Johann Baptist Klauber (including the work of Goez, Baumgartner, Franz Rigl, Johann Martin Will, S.T. Sondermayr, and Joseph Erasmus Belling, many later reissued by Hertel), Philipp Andreas Kilian (1714–1759; many printed by Engelbrecht), Franz Heissig (fl. ca. 1770s), Philipp David Danner (fl. ca. 1760s), and Nilson (who had his own publishing house from 1752) (Figs. 3.11, 4.31).56 They generally depict individual saints or small groups of figures, often busts and frequently riding on cloudbursts, the central image usually surrounded by an irregular rocaille frame or scattering of rocailles and coquillages. It would be hard to exaggerate the impact these cheap, readily available, playing-card sized sheets had on the religious and domestic arts of the Central European countryside—in village chapels, house façade painting, or even farmhouse furniture—and in peripheral areas like Lithuania where local artists who had less access to the more costly ornamental folios frequently used them as patterns for church ceiling and wall paintings (Fig. 3.24).57 Artists did not simply copy the saints’ images but used the prints as sources for ornamental schemes, resulting in innovative pastiches of rocailles from different sources. They were particularly influential in the church interiors of Brazil, where the combinations of decorative elements are uncannily similar to those in rural Central Europe (Figs. 4.19, 4.22, 4.33, E.2, Plates 11, 13).

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 125

Central Europe, the Catholic Enlightenment, and French Spiritual Literature Augsburg was not merely the leading distributor of French décor but also the main conduit for French spiritual literature: its German editions of the leading preachers and treatise writers of the Louis XIV era, Spiritual Rococo, and Christianity of Reason were repeatedly reissued to satisfy the demands of monastic, episcopal, and aristocratic librarians throughout Central Europe. As demonstrated in Appendix A the Augsburg presses were major promoters of the works of Louis Bourdaloue, François Bretonneau, and Louis-Antoine Caraccioli, with significant representation of the treatises of Jean Croiset, Henri Griffet, Charles-Joseph Perrin, and Guillaume de Segaud, and they also issued translations of Sylvestre Bergier and the spiritual works of Fénelon. In the first half of the eighteenth century Augsburg had more book printers than any other city in Central Europe, wavering between 11 and 14 at a time when Frankfurt had nine and Nuremberg and Prague seven—only Leipzig, with 13 printing houses in mid-century, could boast a similar scale of production but it focused primarily on the Protestant market.58 Augsburg was also ideally situated to serve the rich and expanding monastic foundations of Swabia, Bavaria, and Austria—indeed they became the presses’ chief source of revenue.59 Monastic libraries may have been rural but they were not provincial: weighing in at 80,000 volumes the Augustinian library at Polling was one of the biggest and most sophisticated in German lands and the Benedictine abbeys of Benediktbeuern, Tegernsee, and Kremsmünster each had around 40,000 books—more than most city or university libraries.60 Travelling salesmen took rucksacks or carts of books from abbey to abbey as far as South Tyrol or Hungary just as their colleagues did with ornamental prints. But Augsburg is only part of the story: although the city published most of the German translations of French spiritual literature—almost a third of the total and roughly four times as many as its closest competitors, centers such as Leipzig, Vienna, Ingolstadt, and Prague were not far behind, with an impressive volume of French sermons and treatises also issued by the presses of Frankfurt, Würzburg, Bamberg, Dresden, and Mindelheim, and on a smaller scale in Berlin, Breslau, Budweis, Cologne, Einsiedeln, Grünfeld, Halle, Jena, Kempten, Klagenfurt, Linz, Lübeck, Munich, Nuremberg, Regensburg, Salzburg, Steyr, Ulm, Wesel, and Königsberg. Although eighteenth-century libraries in Central Europe possessed large numbers of these German translations, well over a half the French spiritual works found there were in the original French, printed mostly in Paris, Lyon, and The Hague, but also in Frankfurt. All the evidence indicates that Central Europeans were fascinated with French spirituality. The libraries and inventories in Appendix A list almost 1,400 works dating from the late seventeenth to late eighteenth centuries, a number that does not even include the greater volume of work by Francis de Sales and Jean-Baptiste De La Salle—not included in this study

126 The Spiritual Rococo

precisely because of its ubiquity. By far the most popular French authors are Bourdaloue—at 321 volumes or sets of volumes his works make up almost a quarter of the whole—and Caraccioli, who is represented by 234 volumes, roughly a sixth of the whole. Other widely distributed writers include Croiset (137 volumes), Jean-Baptiste Morvan de Bellegarde (126), and Fénelon (106)— I have included only the spiritual works, not his moralist Homeric epic Les aventures de Télémaque, owned by nearly every library and often in multiple copies—followed by Jean-Baptiste Massillon (96), Malebranche (65), JacquesBénigne Bossuet (64), and Bergier (53), with smaller numbers of works by Segaud (29), Griffet (24), the Maître de Claville (23), Claude Buffier (20), and Yves de Paris (17). Although only a handful of works by Charles Frey de Neuville (10), Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint Dinouart (11), Levesque de Pouilly (7), Trublet (8), Perrin (5), Lambert (2), and Lamourette (2) appear in libraries I have surveyed, we know that they were read since authors such as Lévesque de Pouilly are mentioned by name in German sermons, as noted below. These works had a powerful impact on the major preachers and intellectuals of the day: fashionable homilists such as Franz Hunolt (1691–1746), Franz Neumayr (1697–1765), and the preacher and playwright Maurus Lindemayr (1723–1783) adopted the style of Bossuet, Bourdaloue, and Massillon, and Rudolf Graser (1728–1787), a Benedictine orator at Kremsmünster and leader in the campaign to write in the vernacular instead of Latin, went (ironically) to Paris expressly to study the French style of preaching and the works of Francis de Sales.61 In a select list of “good Catholic preachers” from all over Europe the April 1790 edition of the Augsburg periodical Kritik über gewisser Kritiker, Rezensenten und Brochürenmacher includes Bretonneau, Bourdaloue, Griffet, Massillon, and Perrin.62 French spiritual writers and preachers were also favored by the aristocracy and royalty: Massillon, for example, appealed as much to Empress Maria Theresia of Austria (1717–1780) as he had to the French court and aristocracy and Appendix A includes many works in the Imperial Library, as well as those of the electors of Bavaria and the Palatinate and other Germanic nobility.63 The influence of French spirituality was already so widespread by 1701 that the Augsburg Capuchin Mauritius Nattenhusanus (1652–1715) warned in Homo Simplex Et Rectus, Oder der alte redliche Teutsche Michel (Simple and Upright Man: Or, The Old Honest German Tongue)—a nationalistic paean to basic language written for those who value “the old German simplicity and honesty”—that it would ruin the German language and even the German way of life.64 Similarly, Benedictine Beda Mayr (1741–1797), from Donauwörth, lamented the fashion for Bourdaloue and Massillon among scholar preachers who come “fresh from school” because he believed their style would not appeal to farmers, who would “only understand half of it.”65 I maintain that these French books contributed directly to the German Catholic Enlightenment, the protagonists of which worked in these very libraries. Such was humanist scholar Franz Töpsl (1711–1796), a rare documented direct link between the spiritual literature and décor of the Rococo (we will meet others in Brazil in Chapter 4). Augustinian provost of

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 127

Polling from 1744 until his death, Töpsl was patron of its elegant new Rococo library building (1775–1778), built by the Wessobrunner architects Matthias and Franz Joseph Bader, Stukkator Thassilo Zöpf, and painter Johann Baptist Baader.66 Driven by a desire to turn Polling into one of the leading intellectual centers of the German-speaking Catholic world he aggressively acquired spiritual and scientific books for the abbey library, which included at the time of its inventories in 1779–1782 and 1803 works by Bergier, Bossuet, Buffier, Caraccioli, Dinouart (Töpsl’s personal copy), Fénelon, Malebranche, and Yves de Paris. His enthusiasm for Rococo décor is demonstrated not only by the gilded rocailles in the library but by his opulent book plate, designed by Franz Xaver Jungwierth (1720–1790), in which his heraldic devices are encompassed by dripping, elastic shell cartouches and crowned by a cherub’s head wearing a mitre and framed by a Regency-style bat wing.67 One of the greatest intellectuals to come out of Polling was the Augustinian canon Eusebius Amort (1692–1775), the first member of the Bavarian Academy of Sciences and a prototypically enlightened Catholic. Although he was wary of what he believed to be immoderately worldly expressions of devotion, yet when called upon to authenticate Maria Lori’s vision in the Wies in 1745 (a miracle in which he openly disbelieved) he justified it as being beneficial for society because it promoted good works—indeed he may even have been involved directly in the Wieskirche’s design.68 Other prominent figures of the Catholic Enlightenment who studied in these libraries included the Benedictine Anselm Desing (1699–1772), one of the most important educational reformers of his order, who among other things prepared the curriculum for the Ritterakademie (a high school for the nobility) at Kremsmünster Abbey and designed the eight-storey astronomical observatory there (1748–1758), popularly known as Europe’s first skyscraper.69 Kremsmünster is of particular interest since it had an extraordinarily rich collection of works of the French Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason including almost the complete works of Bellegarde, Bergier, Caraccioli, and Massillon as well as numerous works by Bossuet, Bretonneau, Buffier, Croiset, Dinouart, Fénelon, Malebranche, Neuville, and Segaud. Over the course of three decades from 1742 Desing served as the Abbey’s main advisor on book purchases, and it is very likely—especially given his close interest in accommodating natural philosophy and science to Christian theology— that their holdings of French literature were purchased on his suggestion.70 Another reformist figure associated with the great monastic libraries was the Benedictine theologian and rhetorician Simpert Schwarzhueber (1727–1795) of Wessobrunn Abbey and professor of moral philosophy and history at the University of Salzburg in 1765–1799, who like Amort defended exterior forms of Christianity such as the cult of Mary, feast day processions, and pilgrimages, in his case as a way of helping people interiorize doctrine and scripture.71 Germanic clerics also published works in the mode of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason, although decades after their French predecessors and admittedly primarily in the latter genre. Such was Banz Benedictine

128 The Spiritual Rococo

Columban Rösser (1736–1780), who like the French treatise writers argued in his Institutiones philosophicae de homine et deo (Instructions on the Philosophy of Man and God, 1780) that the goal of humankind is happiness and acknowledged that philosophy and theology both allow us to reach that state, except that only the latter allows for true bliss: “Wherefore although philosophy is agreeable (iucundus) and fruitful (frugifer) for all; however no part is more fruitful and more profitable than that which comprises the knowledge of God.”72 Looking back on the history of the first human communities he argues, like Mme Aubert, that people can only be happy in the company of others: “no one can survive by himself: therefore, assembling out of a feeling of sympathy, men … came together in fellowship.”73 Schelle’s Praktische Philosophie (Practical Philosophy, 1785)—like many Catholic Enlightenment treatises it is peppered with references to Kant—declared that faith and reason went hand in hand and devoted a chapter to pleasures (Vergnügungen), including a section on beauty, which considered not only corporeal beauty but also the beauty of music and art.74 He directly credits Lévesque de Pouilly’s Théorie des sentiments agréables as one of his inspirations.75 Fellow Benedictine Jakob Danzer’s maverick Anleitung zur christlichen Moral für seine Schüler in Privatstunden (Instructions on Christian Morality for your Pupils in Private Lessons, 1791), was an attack on the shopworn scholasticism (Schulsprache) of the Council of Trent (1545–1563) and a call to Christians to think for themselves as the Philosophers do—“‘Think!’ The Philosopher rightly teaches in his morality … and why not also in our Theology?”—since although philosophy (that is, Classical philosophy) came before theology, thanks to modern intellectuals it was now far ahead of the game and in Danzer’s opinion theology needed to catch up.76 His book includes a chapter on degrees of happiness (Glückseligkeit) articulated using the methodical language and structure of a scientific treatise—it is reminiscent of Frey de Neuville’s sermon on types of happiness (see Chapter 1)—teaching that even the unfaithful could achieve happiness if they acted virtuously, although not the heavenly kind: “Virtue is certainly possible without religion, which is to say its motives lie already in the nature of Mankind … even without belief in another Life.”77 For Danzer, like Bergier and Fénelon before him, moral contentment (Zufriedenheit) was inexorably linked with corporeal health.78 But even more fascinating is the relationship between his teachings and Hertel’s and Yonan’s understanding of the interior of the Wieskirche as a space that compels us to understand Christianity on our own terms. Danzer warns his students that they cannot even take Scripture at face value without testing it out themselves and discovering their own path to truth: Whoever does not think for himself, test himself, must leave himself under the leadership of another; he places himself wholly under authority, and never gains moral steadfastness … only self-persuasion (Selbstüberzeugung) … protects us against every mistake … But what about faith in the word of God? … One must also prove this to himself: whether, what, [and] how God has spoken to us … God’s word does not give us the necessary incitement toward Good, if one does not think it through himself, and make himself a fluent and native speaker.79

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 129

Like his French predecessors of the Spiritual Rococo Danzer also stressed the communal, social nature of happiness, teaching that it was incumbent upon a person who achieved moral happiness to then generate happiness in others.80 The impact of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason was not limited to high-level intellectuals, and the trajectory from abbey library to country preacher was direct—Beda Mayr remarked how young preachers went straight from their libraries, French sermon books in hand, to the country pulpit, where they “pull together a homily from it, and bring it to their congregations, who are nothing more than farmers.”81 Even country preachers, not attached to religious orders and working among the people, adopted the French preaching style and more profane subject matter. Like their French counterparts they paid close attention to gesture and to a dramatic preaching style, following manuals such as the popular Traitté de l’action de l’orateur (1657) by Michel Le Faucheur (1585–1657), who like the Maître de Claville a century later urged preachers to attend the theatre and learn gestures and intonation from actors.82 Theologians such as Tiberius Sartori (1747–1798) from Zwiefalten Abbey wrote a guide to young preachers in 1796 called Der Theolog nach dem Geiste der neuesten Litteratur und den Bedürfnissen der gegenwärtigen Zeit (The Theologian in the Spirit of the Newest Literature and the Necessities of the Present Day), which exhorted preachers to use sensual, worldly language instead of the dry, pedantic style of the scholastics, specifically advocating adopting the oratorical styles of Voltaire and the French revolutionary comte de Mirabeau.83 The primary means of public communication in the country and small towns, sermons were as much a source of entertainment as edification, frequently resorting to dramatic, colorful delivery, funny anecdotes, wordplay, and especially references to aspects of present-day society, everything from cooking and child-rearing to pilgrimages and miracles, and like their French counterparts they appealed to peoples’ sentimentality.84 Sermons became increasingly popular over the course of the late-seventeenth and eighteenth centuries as people demanded more of their preachers, whether monastics, Jesuits, mendicants (especially Franciscans and Capuchins), or seculars.85 Even farmers read and collected sermon and miracle books—indeed many sermon books, such as Mayr’s Sonntagspredigten für das Landvolk (Augsburg, 1778), were directed specifically to farmers—and by the second half of the eighteenth century the head of the household would read them to his family during meals.86 Thus the basic tenets of the Spiritual Rococo reached individual rural worshippers, its emphasis on happiness, pastoral imagery, and levity particularly well-suited to their surroundings.

Cuvilliés and the Wessobrunner Stukkatoren Elector Max Emanuel used art, luxury items, and décor during his exile at Louis XIV’s court to align himself with his French allies and project a suitably royal image to support his pretentions to the Imperial throne in Vienna.87 With his main seat at Compiègne and his hunting lodges at Suresnes and

130 The Spiritual Rococo

then Saint-Cloud he not only placed himself in proximity to the French court and aristocracy but also kept up to date with the latest styles with the help of his Paris agents. He favored the arabesques and grotesques of Berain and the interiors of Alexis Delamair and Germain Boffrand, the latter of whom he hired along with furniture maker Johann Adam Pichler (fl. 1716–1761) to refurbish the chateau at Saint-Cloud in 1713–1715 with small clusters of rooms projecting the ideal of commodité and delicate boiseries in a proto-Regency style.88 He even had Joseph Effner (1687–1745)—then his garden designer and later chief court architect—brought to Paris in 1706 to study with Boffrand, and in the same year the 11-year-old Cuvilliés joined the Elector’s court (he would return with him from exile in 1715).89 Max Emanuel adopted the salon culture with its ideal of the honnête homme as a specific foil for Spanish-inspired court ceremonial in Habsburg Vienna, and Max Tillman even suggests that the print issued in 1714 to commemorate a lavish masked ball Max Emanuel hosted at Suresnes inspired Watteau’s The Pleasures of the Dance (Fig. 2.26).90 Tillman and Irmscher have shown that the Regency style was at the foundation of even the most extravagant of Cuvilliés’ Munich interiors and separated the court style from the more vibrant Augsburger Geschmack of church interiors. Envisioning a French-style overhaul of the Munich Residenz Max Emanuel sent Cuvilliés back to Paris in 1720–1724 to work with Jean-François Blondel and familiarize himself with recent trends in décor and architecture as a kind of “industrial spy … of good taste,” as Wolfgang Braunfels delightfully puts it.91 Within four years of his return to Munich Cuvilliés was made court architect (Hofbaumeister) and ultimately, in 1763, chief court architect (Oberhofbaumeister), as well as court architect to Elector and Prince-Bishop of Cologne (1728–1761).92 It is significant that no Rococo designer ever enjoyed such elevated royal privilege in France. Cuvilliés’ designs at the Residenz (1729–1737) and the Amalienburg (1734–1749) (Figs. 3.7, 3.8) reveal the artistic split personality that characterized the court style—an uneasy balance between staid Regency boiseries and animated genre pittoresque stucco details in the Augsburg mode—executed with remarkable independence by Wessobrunner Johann Baptist Zimmermann.93 The most boisterous Rococo elements populate the caps of doors, windows, and mirrors, and especially the coves and ceilings, where the stuccoes enjoyed a kind of free-for-all, most dramatically in the Parade Bedroom of 1731 and in the Amalienburg salon, a vigorous, more naturalistic version of the Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise (Figs. 2.21, 3.7, 3.8, Plate 1), which owes much of its virtuosity to Zimmermann.94 Three-dimensional silvered sculptural groups perch atop the coves and into the ceiling where they present an unbroken landscape of hunting scenes and pastoral pleasures punctuated by cornucopia, musical instruments, trees, birds, springs of water, and high-relief Arcadian figures who tease us by leaning an arm or leg down into our space: here stucco explicitly takes on the narrative role formerly assigned to fresco painting.95 The element of Regency restraint discouraged the acceptance of a fuller

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 131

Augsburger style at court except in much later palace interiors such as the Große Saal in the Nymphenburg (1756–1757)—decorated by Zimmermann but not Cuvilliés—and the Festsaal in the Schaezlerpalais in Augsburg (1765–1770), one of the most spectacular manifestations of the Augsburger Geschmack anywhere (Fig. 3.12, Plate 4).96 Cuvilliés synthesized French styles with the Augsburger Geschmack more thoroughly in his copious folios of engravings, published in Munich and then Paris between 1738 (the only dated series) and his death and then by his son until ca. 1779.97 Comprising nearly 500 sheets in three chronological series, they are usually organized into sets of six, whether cartouches (the most numerous), wall panels, cheminées, ceiling stucco patterns, grillwork, fountains, furniture, jewelry, and even Kachelöfen (ceramic stoves).98 Most of Cuvilliés’ printed oeuvre bears little resemblance to his built projects but are instead fanciful essays in the genre pittoresque animated with details such as cattails, trees, fishermen, cranes, snakes, shells, and ragged rocailles (Fig. 3.13).99 Cuvilliés only introduces his court style in his second series, and the last includes architectural projects and the only ecclesiastical designs, a folio of severe altar designs co-authored with his son and based on the French baldachin model.100 These latter—they all bore French titles—were likely meant primarily for a French or at least upper-class audience of collectors

3.12 Festsaal, Schaezlerpalais, Augsburg, 1765–1770. Photo: Author

132 The Spiritual Rococo

3.13 François de Cuvilliés, cartouche from Livre de Cartouches irréguliers, engraved by Franz Xaver Jüngwierth, Munich, 1738. London, British Museum

and amateurs rather than for builders and designers. In the end Cuvilliés had little impact on ecclesiastical Rococo: Friedrich Wolf surmises that church patrons were simply not interested in what they saw as a foreign intrusion associated with the court and with paganism—Irmscher believes that the iconography of Regency grotesques particularly rankled—and that they favored the indigenous styles of the Asam brothers and Wessobrunn Stukkatorentrupps.101 Distinct both from the aristocratic sophistication of the Residenz and the industrial mercantilism of the Augsburg printers, the so-called “Wessobrunner Stucco School” was not a school at all but a group of traditional craft families in villages like Gaspoint and Haid near Wessobrunn Abbey who handed down their skills from generation to generation and secured prestige by marrying into other stucco families.102 They were beholden to ecclesiastical patronage in a way the court and Augsburg presses were not: the relationship of the Stukkator families with the major religious orders was an essentially medieval affiliation between client and benefactor founded on mutual reciprocity. Three thousand Wessobrunn Stukkatoren worked on around 1,000 churches between the 1680s and late 1770s, the most important families being the Schmuzer, Übelherr/ Üblhör/Yblhör, Bader, Feichtmayr, Finsterwalder, Gigl, Merck, Rauch, Schaidauf, Schütz, Zimmermann, and Zöpf.103 Although most worked only in stucco many, like Johann Baptist Zimmermann, also painted frescoes or, like his brother Dominikus, were renowned architects or painters of imitation marble (Stuckmarmor)—ubiquitous in Central European church interiors. By the eighteenth century the Wessobrunner worked as far afield as Prussia, Belgium, France, Holland, Switzerland, Austria, Poland, and—as we will see in Chapter 5—Chile. Like French interior decorators, they worked in large teams, with the head Stukkator in charge of the design and the team overseer supervising the journeymen and occasionally intervening personally. These projects involved teams of specialists from widely different media, individual artists becoming capable in a variety of fields.104 The Zimmermanns and Feicthmayrs, the families most responsible for the development of ecclesiastical Rococo, were typically close-knit in

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 133

their training. The first Stukkator in his baker family, Elias Zimmermann (1656–1695) apprenticed at Gaispoint and taught two of his nephews and his sons, Johann Baptist and Dominikus.105 In the Wessobrunn tradition his daughters Catharina (b. 1694) and Severina (1681–1756) married into stucco dynasties as did Dominikus himself in 1708, marrying Theresia Zöpf. Dominikus first trained with Jakob Herkomer (1652–1717) as a false marble painter and possibly with Johann Schmuzer (1642–1701) from the distinguished stucco family. Johann Baptist took a more academic route: some have attributed his skill in high relief sculpture to a short spell working with an Italian stucco troupe, and he later undertook formal studies in draftsmanship in Augsburg.106 Certainly it was his skill with the human figure and his delicate touch with ornament that won him the position of Hofstuccateur to the Elector in 1729. But between 1709 and 1711 he had already worked on his first church project in vernacular proto-Rococo—his first joint commission with Dominikus as it happens—at the Carthusian monastery at Buxheim, and he was an active proponent of the Augsburger Geschmack the whole time he was also working in the court style for Karl Albrecht. The Feichtmayrs came from nearby Haid and the first generation included the brothers Michael (1667–1706), a painter, and Franz Joseph (1660–1718), a Stukkator best known for his work in the convent of Salem.107 Michael had three artist sons, Johann Michael (1696–1772), Franz Xaver (1698–1764), and Franz Anton or Antoni (b. 1700).108 The brothers studied first with their father, moving to Augsburg in the early 1720s to apprentice with the mason Johann Paulus and to engrave ornamental prints, and they collaborated with such prestigious Wessobrunner as Johann Georg Üblhör (1700–1763) and the fresco painter Matthäus Günther (1705–1788).109 The sons of both Johann Michael and Franz Joseph continued the family tradition: Johann Michael’s son Franz Xaver II (1735–1803) joined Johann Baptist Zimmermann’s atelier at the age of 17, collaborated with him at the Nymphenburg, and even married his widow in 1758.110 In addition to their stucco work all three brothers published their designs; those by Johann Michael Feichtmayr (engraved by Setlezki and Georg Christian Kilian, 1709–1781) by far the most original.111 His series of six large cartouches are constructed entirely from a chaotic interplay of organic matter—unlike Cuvilliés or his French predecessors who always included human and architectural elements—with rocaille shells, mosses, dead tree branches, tall sheaves of grass, bark, grape and squash vines, lily of the valley, horsetails, carp, and snakes, all with a powerful torsion and plasticity that recalls his stucco work (Fig. 3.28).112 Although their style only hinted at Rococo—theirs was primarily the Italianate idiom of garlands and acanthus foliage but with a lighter hand and softer colors—the architecture and design team of the brothers Asam were the Zimmermanns’ most celebrated competitors and another example of family-based training in the shadow of an abbey. Since the sixteenth century the Asams lived in the service of the monastery of Rott am Inn, the brothers’ grandfather a brewer.113 His son, ceiling painter Georg Asam (1649–1711), a

134 The Spiritual Rococo

resident of the nearby village of Unterwöhrn, founded the artistic branch of the dynasty and may have trained with court painter Nikolaus Prugger (ca. 1620–1694), whose daughter the miniaturist Maria Theresia he then married in 1680 (his son Cosmas Damian would also marry into an artistic family). Georg may also have visited Venice, beginning a family tradition of Italian sojourns that likely contributed to their resistance to French motifs. His famous sons were born near abbeys he was working on at the time: Cosmas Damian (1686–1739) near Benediktbeuern and Egid Quirin (1692–1750) at Tegernsee. Typically, the brothers trained with family members: they studied with father and mother alike and also probably learned from their older sister Maria Salome, a sculpture painter, and her husband Adam Thomas Schmid, a gilder.114 Tegernsee abbot Quirin Millon (1700–1715) sent Cosmas Damian to study in Rome (ca. 1712–1714) where his exposure to the work of Carlo Maratti, Pietro da Cortona, Baciccio, and Andrea Pozzo was decisive in the frescoes he painted upon his return to Bavaria (Fig. 3.19).115

Italy and Central European Ceiling Painting Although Italian-derived fresco painting is an essential part of the “perfect synthesis” of the Germanic Rococo interior, Rococo church décor barely existed in Italy.116 Italian fresco painters were receptive to the figural styles, landscape forms, pastoral moods, and palettes of Watteau or Boucher— indeed the influence went both ways—but the adornment of Italian churches only very rarely incorporated rocailles, C-scrolls, or irregular cartouches (by contrast Italian palaces were frequently refitted in the Rococo style, particularly in the south and usually following Augsburg prints).117 A recent study has even suggested that the Italians found Rococo’s French origins distasteful since France was often the enemy and that when they did adopt the style they identified it, amusingly, as “Chinese.”118 Nevertheless contemporary Italian church decor shared Rococo’s lightness, softer colors, and sensation of happiness—the style is often called barocchetto, or “little Baroque”—achieved with their own vocabulary of forms: Sedlmayr and Bauer’s Sonderformen.119 There are remarkably few exceptions: the rocailles and C-scrolls capping the niches and doors of the façade of S. Maddalena al Pantheon in Rome (Giuseppe Sardi and others, 1725) is an extreme oddity in that otherwise Rococo-resistant city (Fig. 3.14) and a handful of churches in places like Sicily and Umbria used Augsburg Rococo stucco motifs, such as Rosario Gagliardi’s façade and dome pendentives at S. Giorgio in Modica (1702–1738) or the stucco retable of the Madonna del Carmine in the church of S. Francesco in Bevagna (ca. 1756).120 In fact the most Rococo element in Italian churches tended to be the organ, attributable partly to the Central European origins of organ builders such as Hans Conrad Wehrle (Worle), from the Tyrolian town of Vils, who built a number of organs in Rome and the Lazio, including the one at S. Maria Maddalena (1736).121

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 135

3.14 Giuseppe Sardi and others, façade (detail), S Maddalena al Pantheon, Rome, 1725. Photo: Author

Therefore the Italian contributions to the Central European church interior are Baroque. They include architectural forms such as the oval plan and motifs like Bernini’s Gloria, pioneered at St. Peter’s in Rome (1657–1666), a sunburst of gilded bronze lit by natural light from a window at the center, which became a specialty of the Asam Brothers as in the altar of the Johanneskapelle in Freising Cathedral (1735–1738) (Fig. 3.15).122 The idea of the unified Germanic church interior also originated in Italy, in Bernini’s Roman church projects from the 1640s and 1650s, and was known in its time—in Italy at least—as the bel composto, a label coined by Bernini’s biographer Filippo Baldinucci (1625–1697).

136 The Spiritual Rococo

3.15 Egid Quirin and Cosmas Damian Asam, Johanneskapelle altar (detail), Cathedral, Freising, Bavaria, 1735–1738. Photo: Author

With his Cornaro Chapel (1647–1652), one of the most virtuoso interiors of the Baroque, Bernini created a new kind of visually and thematically unified Theatrum Sacrum, each medium interacting to elicit sensual, emotional, and intellectual responses from the viewer (Fig. 3.16).123 Painted stucco overlaps with architecture and relief carving, and sculpture adopts the role of painting and employs its techniques, notably the natural light chiaroscuro cast over the sculpture group on the altar, the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, or the false perspective in the fictive galleries on the sides. Although the Italian presence in Germanic church décor was already dominant in the seventeenth century, particularly in stucco and frescoes, the true composto of overlapping media did not appear until the eighteenth. The Italianate nave ceiling fresco was an indispensable component of the Central Europe church interior. Two influential prototypes were developed in Rome, the first by Bernini’s pupil Baciccio (1639–1709) and the second by the Jesuit brother Andrea Pozzo (1642–1709). Drawing on a tradition of dome painting inspired by the theatre and going back to Antonio da Correggio (1489–1534) and the tiny vault at Bernini’s own Cornaro Chapel, Baciccio created a kind of fresco at the Roman Gesù (1676–1679) that looked as if the ceiling had burst open to reveal the heavens above (Fig. 3.17).124 Employing a combination of frescoes and stuccoes (by Antonio Raggi) Baciccio’s

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 137

composition boldly crosses media boundaries so that the frescoed sections of the vault bleed into the gilt decoration of the ceiling and cast painted shadows onto the coffering—the effect is that they seem to extend into the viewer’s space, enhancing the fresco’s three-dimensional character. A multitude of small figures surrounds this illuminated area, arranged in loosely connected light and dark zones that either ascend into heaven on the rays of the sun or tumble down as if into the church. Pozzo developed a quite different variation on the heavenly ceiling in which a framework of fictive architecture based on linear perspective (quadratura) makes it appear as if the structure of the church has extended into the sky and also provides a convenient framework for arranging groups of figures at different heights (Fig. 3.18).125 This technique, deriving from earlier traditions of feigned architecture by Bolognese fresco painters such as Girolamo Curti (1570– 1632), and his pupils Angelo Michele Colonna (1600–1687) and Agostino Mitelli (1609–1660), is best represented by his massive Allegory of the Missionary Work of the Society of Jesus (1685–1702) at S. Ignazio in Rome, a teeming apotheosis embraced by a framework of painted architecture calibrated for a single viewpoint from directly below. Pozzo was immensely influential north of the Alps thanks to his bestselling architectural treatise Perspectiva pictorum et architectorum (Rome, 1693–1700) and his work in the Jesuit church in Vienna (1703–1705).126 Rivaling his nave fresco in popularity was his illusionistic false dome, also pioneered at S. Ignazio, an ingenious solution for patrons who wanted to give their church the grandeur of a dome but could not afford one. It would be hard to exaggerate the impact of this design—unlike the Allegory it was created to be seen only from the approach to the space it adorned—and it spread

3.16  Gianlorenzo Bernini, Cornaro Chapel, S. Maria della Vittoria, Rome, with Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, 1647–1652. Photo courtesy Lawrence Lew, O.P.

138 The Spiritual Rococo

3.17 Baciccio (Giovanni Battista Gaulli): Triumph of the Name of Jesus, Ceiling of the Church of the Gesù, Rome, 1679–1685. Photo courtesy José Garrido

throughout Central Europe thanks not only to his Perspectiva but because it was also incorporated into Paul Decker’s influential architectural manual Der Fürstliche Baumeister (1711): as Bauer notes “no other model was more often adopted by fresco painters.”127 Germanic churches were already incorporating small ceiling paintings— although not illusionistic ones—before the Thirty Years War (1618–1648),

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 139

as at the parish church at Weilheim (1624–1636), and later at St. Lorenz in Kempten (1652–1666), which features clouds but not perspectival effects.128 Baciccio’s and Pozzo’s formulae first appeared in Central Europe in a kind of shallow oval vault known as a Platzlgewölbe, introduced by Carlone in churches like the Abbey church of St. Florian in Austria (1686–1708), which use fictive architecture instead of stucco to frame—but not interact with—the narrative scenes.129 The mature Roman mode was championed by Cosmas Damian Asam in the 1720s, as in the monumental nave vault fresco of the Virtues of St. Corbiniani at the Cathedral at Freising (1723– 1724), a Baciccio-style interplay of divine light and roiling cloudbursts (Fig. 3.19). In this contrived composition bolts of light emitting from a candle held by the Virgin Mary at the upper right shelter a group of sheep while, above, a single bolt penetrates a mirror and bounces off a whip—both held by vengeful yet mirthful female allegories of the early Christian bishop’s virtues—after which it transforms into a lightening flash that sends a clutch of nude male allegories of the vices tumbling past the painting’s false stucco frame and out over the false supporting arches of the vault, the upper clouds drifting into the next vault fresco and the vices into the organ gallery.130 Except for the lighter palette and sense of humor evident in Asam’s fresco it is faithful to Baciccio’s model with its basic arrangement into light and dark zones and the conceit of the clouds and vices extending beyond the frame. Pozzo’s feigned architectural structures also enjoyed early converts in Germanic lands,

3.18 Andrea Pozzo: Glorification of the Missionary Enterprise of the Society of Jesus, Sant’Ignazio, Rome, 1691–1694. Photo: Author

3.19 Cosmas Damian Asam, The Virtues of Saint Corbiniani, nave fresco, Cathedral, Freising, Bavaria, 1723–1724. Photo: Author

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 141

particularly the false domes, which continued to adorn crossings or vaults over the high altar long after the more complex framework of his nave ceiling had been reduced to low-lying structures such as balustrades, staircases, portals, and building façades. As early as 1720 with Cosmas Damian’s fresco over the high altar at the abbey at Aldersbach, Germanic painters populated these false domes with figures and cloudbursts much as Pozzo had done in his nave scheme—Pozzo’s dome has only a single group of angels, which look like sculpture anyway—preserving the effect of a false dome with single viewpoint but turning it into a narrative space.131 Such is Matthäus Günther’s Saint Augustine in Glory in Rottenbuch (1737–1745), which uses the false dome to frame a scene in which the church father ascends to heaven into the arms of the risen Christ as his lay and clerical followers look on from below (Fig. 3.20). This fresco also features elements inspired by Baciccio as demons and clouds spill out over the stucco frame, here balanced at the top by a pair of angels holding a bishop’s mitre. These Roman models were almost immediately transformed by current trends in Venetian painting, by artists such as Sebastiano Ricci (1659–1734), Mattia Bortoloni (1696–1750), Gian Antonio Pellegrini (1675–1741), and Giovanni Battista Tiepolo (1696–1770), all of whom worked for a time in Central Europe, as did the Venetian-inspired Neapolitan Jacopo Amigoni

3.20 Matthäus Günther, Saint Augustine in Glory, dome fresco, with stuccoes by Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, Abbey Church, Rottenbuch, Bavaria, 1737– 1745. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

142 The Spiritual Rococo

3.21 Johann Baptist Zimmermann, First Appearance of Saint Michael at Monte Gargano, St. Michael, Berg am Laim, Bavaria, 1743–1744. Photo: Author

(1675–1752).132 This mode, best reflected in the work of Johann Baptist Zimmermann who worked with Amigoni at Schloß Schleißheim, usually features a rich and varied landscape around the rim of the fresco populated by groups of brightly clad figures—often in procession with flags, parasols, and halberds—and a golden celestial light borne on spirals of clouds, which contrasts with startlingly bright patches of sky blue. The brushwork is looser and the colors are lighter and softer than with Baciccio or Pozzo, especially in their luminous pinks, light greens, and the variegated blues of the sky. These colors, combined with their prominent use of landscape, give them much in common with the easel paintings of Boucher or Charles-Joseph Natoire (Figs. 2.23, 2.29).133 Like their Venetian counterparts, Germanic painters in the Venetian mode gave their frescoes a privileged viewpoint from the entrance to the space, exaggerated the perspective, and used the landscape (sometimes including cityscapes) as a platform for narrative—essentially a doubling of the terrestrial world and reassertion our own space. This narrative aspect was especially valuable in Central Europe where sermons were rife with stories, anecdotes, and humor and preachers would point directly toward the paintings in a church to make their points (as we will soon see at the pilgrimage church at Dießen).134

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 143

Such is Zimmermann’s First Appearance of Saint Michael at Monte Gargano (1743–1744) at the church of St. Michael at Berg am Laim outside Munich (Fig. 3.21), in which a verdant landscape and cityscape allows the artist to incorporate a complicated narrative into a single image, collapsing time and using landscape and architectural features as visual prompts, yet maintaining an overall sense of pageantry through a prominently placed procession on the left side. In the story of this first appearance of the archangel in Europe a herder follows a lost bull into a cave in the Apulian countryside. He shoots an arrow into the cave but it comes back and strikes him in the chest. Seeking an explanation of the miracle he approached the Bishop of Sipontium, who led a procession to the cave, where Saint Michael appeared in a flash and instructed him to found there a pilgrimage shrine. Zimmermann anchors his composition with a tall, portal-like cave at the base and the city gate of Sipontium at the top, both in exaggerated perspective. The first part of the story, concerning the herder and his companions, is displayed counter-clockwise on the right half of the fresco: first the bull kneels before the cave, then the herder is shot with an arrow, and then his companions react with surprise. The second part occupies the center of the vault, in which Michael swoops down at the head of a subtly modulating, almost rocaille-like cloud filled with angels. The left half is occupied entirely by the long, clockwise, Venetian style procession, featuring people from all walks of life in rich costumes in a panoply of colors. They march toward the cave, holding aloft lances, a parasol, and a crosier. The prominence given to this procession—and especially the reference to real time provided by the choirboys and priest at the front—serves the dual purpose of representing the historical procession and of mirroring the contemporary act of pilgrimage, as we have seen one of the critical aspects of Catholicism in eighteenth-century Germanic lands. Karsten Harries was the first to point out that the Germanic dismissal or distortion of perspectival illusionism also reflects “an unwillingness to make space comprehensible,” that “the impossible illusionism of the Bavarians, with its landscapes above, calls our point of view into question” (his italics)— although as I have just noted this feature appeared first in Venetian painting.135 Note for example how Günther complicates our view of the false dome: he flattens the perspective, blocks out the right half of the structure with clouds, angels, and the figure of Saint Augustine, and then he places a group of clerics around an altar at the base of the fresco that acts like a restatement of our world in the church below (Fig. 3.20). This distortion is most vividly displayed in the flattened perspective of architectural elements—in the Berg am Laim ceiling Zimmermann does this with the cave and townscape—which Rupprecht refers to as an “inclined plane” and traces to stage design.136 This mode reaches its dramatic apogee in the Czech lands, most extraordinarily in Wenzel Lorenz Reiner’s Dominican Order Defends Orthodoxy (1734–1735) in the nave of Saint Giles (Sv Jiljí) in Prague, surely the most vertiginous ceiling painting in Central Europe (Fig. 3.22). Depicting Dominican saints defending St John Lateran against a horde of heretics, it centers upon a domed church of

144 The Spiritual Rococo

3.22 Wenzel Lorenz Reiner, The Dominican Order Defends Orthodoxy, nave fresco, Saint Giles (Sv Jiljí), Prague, 1734–1735. Photo: Author

impossible height, which at once soars into the sky and threatens to collapse onto the congregation, its perspectival precariousness perhaps communicating the immediacy of the danger Protestantism has posed to the Catholic church in that very city (reformer Jan Hus’ church, the Betlémská kaple, is just across the street).137 By deviating from naturalism these frescoes solve an ages-old problem first identified by Hans Belting and more recently by Marcia Hall that a painting of a religious subject is less potent when submitted to the rules of artistic styles that prioritize the imitation of nature.138 Put more succinctly, it is difficult to see the sacred in works of art that look like the earthly realm, a problem that is addressed by what Hall, speaking of Italian post-Renaissance painting, calls “making strange,” or intentionally impeding art’s ability to depict reality. In the German Rococo church interior this “making strange”—the collapsed perspective and doubled world at the base of the vault—confronts viewers with the falseness of Baroque illusionism and by extension the uncertainty of their received beliefs about Humankind’s relationship with God. It forces them, as Danzer would say, to think for themselves, using their own intellect to probe the “whether, what, and how” of the mysteries of the faith. Other ceilings incorporate Rococo décor more directly into their feigned architectural structures or imitation stucco work. Where there is a surrounding framework of real stucco they help integrate walls and vault more thoroughly either by echoing the shapes and arrangement of the stucco rocailles or by giving the impression that the latter extend into the painting, both of which encourage visitors to cast their eyes back and forth over the whole space in an unbroken but fragmented papillotage motion.139 A splendid early example is Günther’s series of ceiling frescoes at Rottenbuch, which include false

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 145

3.23 Johann Georg Bergmüller, ceiling fresco, chapel, Schloß Haimhausen, Bavaria, 1749–1750. Photo: Author

stuccoes that interact with the real stuccoes encircling them (by Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, Figs. 3.20, 3.26, Plate 6).140 As part of same doubling of worlds noted above about this fresco, the vault at the crossing recreates a false second dome with feigned stucco rocaille cartouches mimicking those in the actual pendentives just below.141 More extensive false Rococo stuccoes appear in Johann Jakob Zeiller’s frescoes at the Benedictine abbey and pilgrimage church of Ettal (1748–1751), creating an artificial attic level and pediments of rocailles and cartouches over the chancel arch and the high altar; in Johann Georg Bergmüller’s net of false Rococo stucco over the Schloßkapelle at

146 The Spiritual Rococo

3.24 Matas Motiejus Sluščanskis, Annunciation, ceiling fresco, Church of the Holy Spirit (Šv Dvasios), Vilnius, Lithuania, ca. 1760s. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

3.25 Franz Joseph Spiegler, Saint Benedict and his Followers Pay Homage to the Virgin Mary and the Holy Trinity, nave fresco, 1751, with stuccoes by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, 1747–1751, Abbey Church, Zwiefalten, Swabia. Photo: Author

Haimhausen (1749/50); and in Franz Martin Kuen’s library ceiling fresco at Wiblingen (1744), the latter two freely adapted from the inventions of Lajoüe and Babel (Figs. 3.23, 3.35).142 False Rococo stucco was especially common in parts of Austria (for example, Linz and south Tyrol); in Johann Lucas Kracker’s frescoes in the Czech lands, Slovenia, and Hungary; and in the work of Matas Motiejus Sluščanskis (d 1769) and others in Vilnius, who simply replaced real stucco with painted stucco, creating a low-cost web of rocailles enclosing medallion-like figural scenes in the churches of St. Theresa (Šv Teresės), St. George (Šv Jurgio), and the Holy Spirit (Šv Dvasios) (Fig. 3.24).143 More interesting still are ceilings in which the entire composition— architecture, figures, cloud formations—is animated by the sweeping curves and counter-curves of the ring of stucco rocailles surrounding it. None compare to the nave vault decoration in the Benedictine abbey church of Zwiefalten (1747–1751), a collaboration between fresco painter Franz Joseph Spiegler (1691–1757) and Johann Michael Feichtmayr (Fig. 3.25, Plate 5), the curvilinear, dynamic composition of which contrasts sharply with the

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 147

conservative, mostly rectilinear wall-pillar plan of the church.144 Entitled Saint Benedict and his Followers Pay Homage to the Virgin Mary and the Holy Trinity (1751), Spiegler’s sprawling fresco draws our eyes upward into a dizzying spiral of architecture, clouds, bodies, saints, and angels. Feichtmayr’s surrounding stuccoes—they cling like seaweed to the borders and creep into the fresco— are particularly wide ranging and inventive. Even Irmscher, known for his fastidiously precise characterizations of forms, throws up his hands after trying to identify the extraordinary number of different rocaille types: “flamboyant cocks-comb rocailles, ram’s horn rocailles, shell border rocailles, frayed leaf rocailles, skeleton rocailles with taut skin, gold-accented bubbles and humps (or rather a slit-like breaking-through), wave-breaking rocailles, rocaille scroll-work or rocaille volutes and many stylizations that can only be paraphrased, by which one can hardly believe that they were taken from a ‘prototype’ of a ‘rocaille-as such.’”145 The few rocaille forms that appear in the actual fresco are treated not as stucco finto but as elastic fungus-like growths reminiscent of Feichtmayr’s engravings. They seem to be alive. Spiegler’s emulation of the asymmetrical distribution of Feichtmayr’s stuccoes works like ripples in a pond. Precipitous staircases with concave edges inspired by C-scrolls surge upward from both ends, leading to a mezzanine level (the doubled world) bounded by a scalloped wall, the contours of which also follow the stuccoes. Even the throngs of pilgrims, clerics, and potentates mirror the distribution of the rocailles, as do the clouds, which sweep into the sky in the same way that the stuccoes invade the fresco. The rows of pilgrims borne on the vortex of curves evokes the pageantry of a real-life religious procession and recalls the writings of Enlightened Catholics such as Amort and Schwarzhueber—himself a Benedictine—who openly supported such exterior manifestations of faith. The positioning of the figures assist in the narrative as well: the people nearest the viewers are, like themselves, pilgrims. They include devotees of specific Benedictine pilgrimage sites to the Virgin, from Zwiefalten to Altötting (Bavaria) and Einsiedeln and historic figures relating to their foundation, all legible from the floor. Clouds draw our eyes upward, acting as a vehicle for the saints and angels and offering glimpses of sky through the golden light. Divine glory rains down on the multitudes from the Trinity at the top, which acknowledges the Virgin Mary on a cloud below. From Mary’s breast a bolt of light bounces in a zigzag off a holy image of herself with the Christ Child—a copy of an icon in the Roman church of S. Benedetto in Piscinula—and, smiting the heart of Saint Benedict, it dissipates into tongues of flames that ignite the spiritual fervor of a jumble of Benedictine saints on the lowest level of clouds. The call-and-response of stucco and fresco in the nave vault at Zwiefalten parallels the relationship between congregation and narrative. It invites fleshand-blood worshippers to participate in its virtual pilgrimage and to celebrate the role the Benedictines and their Marian shrines played in helping ordinary Christians gain knowledge of God. But the vertiginous effect of the fresco’s

148 The Spiritual Rococo

spiraling composition resonates far beyond Germanic ceiling painting and even religious art, recalling the kind of destabilizing rapture explored by Rococo painters of pastoral and erotic subjects in France such as Jean-Honoré Fragonard in his swing paintings, of which he painted three between 1767 and 1780 (Fig. 2.2). Jennifer Milam’s description of the giddy effects of Fragonard’s The Little Swing (ca. 1775) could easily apply to Spiegler’s fresco: The image sets the eye in motion, in a manner analogous to the mechanism of a swing, destabilizing perception through confusion and euphoria. The painting’s vertiginous forms cause the viewer to experience the visual surprises of putting together loose brushwork within areas diffused by light or hidden by shadows to create a unified image, picking out details and uncovering every element of the composition … the image transports the viewer past the awareness of paint, color, and brushwork, through the metaphor of light, to the realm of the imagination.146

Zwiefalten also encourages viewers to find their own surprises and make sense of the fresco’s complexities and contradictions in their own way, but this time as a meditative interiorization of the ceiling’s many potential spiritual messages—a kind of individualized spiritual journey. But like that of the Wieskirche the journey is predicated on uncertainty: the destabilizing sensation of this Rococo celestial vision becomes even more acute as we walk the perimeter of the nave and unravel its artifice: as we approach the crossing the distortions of the figures become increasingly exaggerated so that by the time we stand at the crossing and turn toward the entrance we are finally confronted with the scene’s deceptiveness as the entire composition collapses like a deflated balloon.

Architecture, the Cartouche, and the Central European Church Interior Scholars like Bauer and Sedlmayr underplay the role of architecture in Central European Rococo church interiors, maintaining that it is little more than an unobtrusive shell, the “made-to-order” nature of Rococo stucco work paying “little attention to the individuality of the building … the relationship between wall and decoration reach[ing] the point where the ornament was only an appliqué on a wall background.”147 This observation seems to be supported by a rare surviving group of cartouche designs for sacred and secular interiors (by Andreas Moosbrugger, ca. 1770–1785), possibly a presentation folio for potential clients, in which the motifs are arranged over generic walls, vaults, ceilings, pulpits, and altarpieces in such a way that they could be adapted to any architectural setting.148 Others insist that we must take the structure of the whole building—or at least individual parts of it—into account and that Rococo in Central Europe was an “essentially spatial decorative mode.”149 Although I would argue that French Rococo interiors already made creative use of space, whether through light effects, reflections, and the decorative interplay of motifs across rooms to elicit papillotage-like observation, Germanic church interiors intensified that relationship. Rococo motifs also interact with architecture

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 149

more directly, not merely by attaching themselves to walls, columns, and vaults but often playing transformative games with plinths, capitals, or entablatures, and these forms are then mimicked in the feigned architecture of so many ceiling paintings. Going further, taking the monumental designs of Babel or Lajoüe at face value, Central European architects such as Dominikus Zimmermann turned ornament itself into architecture, never on the scale of a whole building but in clerestories, altarpieces, monumental confessionals, and shrines. However these structures remain the exception, not the rule. I maintain that architecture engages with Rococo only where the two directly confront one another and that is overwhelmingly inside churches— unlike in Portugal or Brazil, the only regions in which it made a significant appearance on façades, although even there the ornament is usually more of an appliqué (Figs. 4.6; 4.20, 4.21, 4.28–30). Despite the odd cartouche or rocaille on façades or over exterior doorways—or windows with Rococo profiles that carry through to the inside—the exteriors of Central European Rococo churches only prepare us for the basic spatial divisions of the interior. They remain essentially Baroque in inspiration, the late offspring of Francesco Borromini and Pietro da Cortona, with their swelling walls, plain, curvilinear façades, and understated pilasters and entablatures. As we have seen this disjunction obtained in France as well: the exterior of the Hôtel de Roquelaure exudes a quiet Classicism (Fig. 2.8) that gives not the slightest hint of what the visitor will find inside (Fig. 2.15). In fact, Germanic church exteriors frequently disguise the shapes of their interiors, as with curvilinear spaces masked by rectilinear outer walls: such are the nave sections at Weltenburg (oval) or Rott am Inn (circular); the transepts at Sv Mikuláš in Malá Strana, Prague (hemispheres); and the undulating interior walls and vaults at Osterhofen and Zwiefalten.150 The exception is usually found in curvilinear façades, as at Sv Mikuláš or Zwiefalten. Instead of arguing that there is no Rococo architecture I propose that we can only speak of a partial Rococo architecture and that it does not follow any one paradigm. Scholars such as Rupprecht have tried to identify a unified, prototypical form for Rococo church interiors in Bavaria, associating it with five characteristics related to indirect light, indefinite spatial boundaries, uses of stucco as mediation between fresco and architecture, relative sizes of side chapels, and a privileged viewpoint from the entrance of the church. But this conception does not work for Central European architecture as a whole—even the pilgrimage church at Birnau (1746–1749), in neighboring Swabia, was completely different, a barn-like space with direct lighting that has reminded some scholars of French salon architecture.151 Harries has proposed more flexible “defining characteristics” for Bavarian Rococo interior space, such as “the desire to centralize not only the choir but the nave,” the disappearance of the true dome in favor of the nave vault, or a fondness for oval spaces.152 But these prototypes are also limited to Bavaria and do not address the ubiquitous habit even there of refurbishing older structures: indeed the biggest setback to the idea of a “Rococo architecture” is that a vast number of Rococo interiors were fitted into existing Romanesque or Gothic churches—this practice was so

150 The Spiritual Rococo

common that the Germans even have a special verb for redecorating a church in the Rococo style: rocaillisieren.153 Some of the masterpieces of Rococo décor, like Günther and Schmuzer’s Rottenbuch, are veneers over Gothic churches (Fig. 3.26, Plate 6).154 We can credit the medium of stucco and the cartouche form with providing unity to this architectural diversity. Inherently transformative, stucco can take on characteristics of all media: it is sculpture in its own right (as in Zimmermann’s figures at the Amalienburg, Fig. 3.8) and it can take on the appearance of architecture, as in the pediment over the sacristy doorway in the Swiss cathedral of Arlesheim (by Johann Michael Feichtmayr and Francesco Pozzi, 1753–1759), which seems at once to rest on top of the doorway and to disappear into the wall.155 Stucco is also sufficiently malleable and lightweight that it can be treated like paint—parts of some Rococo stucco motifs, especially the work of Bader, Schmuzer, or Fackler look distinctly like imitation brushstrokes—a mimicry reminiscent of Roy Lichtenstein’s “Brushstrokes” series of the 1960s (Fig. 3.27). We have already seen in the Amalienburg the way stucco takes over the narrative role formerly played by frescoes (Fig. 3.8). Stucco’s ability to morph from material to immaterial is an ideal metaphor for the human soul. No medium thrives so much on being pushed to its technical limits. In French Rococo engravings the cartouche took on architectural pretentions, soaring above garden and palace landscapes in bold chiaroscuro (Figs. 2.17, 3.35). However only in Central Europe did the cartouche actually acquire an architectural scale. Bauer was the first to identify the cartouche as the principle motif of the Central European Rococo and the premier vehicle for transforming the decorative into the narrative or, metaphorically, the material into the spiritual.156 Through what Mundt calls the “connecting weft of the rocailles” cartouches draw the eye from frame to image and from wall to arch to vault, defying demarcations.157 For Sedlmayr rocaille’s role is precisely that of a zone of transition and mediation: “we find it at all points where there is danger of a sharp divergence between two elements, two spheres: at windows, arches, springing lines of vaults, at frames and balustrades, at the socles of sculptures and … at the crowning parts of altars, confessionals and pulpits.”158 Yet Rococo cartouches quickly claim independence from frescoes and architecture, even reversing the usual relationship between support and décor—Harries goes so far as to declare that “ornament attacks its support almost aggressively,” although I see the relationship more like a playful about-face in which stucco parodies and transforms architectural features, calling their very solidity into question.159 Increasingly asymmetrical and idiosyncratic, cartouches mutate into plants, birds, trellises, hillocks, and other natural features so that décor, narrative, and symbolism interpenetrate: they simultaneously frame an image and become part of it.160 Such is the spandrel cartouche panel (1747– 1751) by Johann Michael Feichtmayr enclosing Franz Joseph Spiegler’s fresco of Europe (1749) in the nave at Zwiefalten (Fig. 3.28).161 On a basic level the

3.26 Matthäus Günther and Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave, Abbey Church, Rottenbuch, Bavaria, 1737–1745. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

152 The Spiritual Rococo

3.27 Matthias Fackler, pulpit, Pfarrkirche Mariä Geburt, Eschlbach, Bavaria, ca. 1765. Photo: Author

structure serves as a frame but it is also part of the scenery, its rocky accretions forming a grotto for the female allegory and its two long, gilded sheaves of grass sprouting from the base of the painted rock upon which she stands. The sculpted figures also interact directly with the painting: a playful stucco cherub on the lower left of the cartouche appears to join a tussle of painted cherubs holding a trio of processional crosses while two companions float over the top of the cartouche—one seems to have fallen off the painted balustrade in the ceiling fresco— gently drawing a three-dimensional gilded garland through the seashelllike opening at the top. This dialogue between carved and painted figures is akin to the common conceit in Watteau’s or Fragonard’s fêtes galantes in which statues on pedestals respond to the actions of the human subjects below.162 It also frequently occurs in Central Europe with freestanding statues flanking painted altarpieces, as with Ignaz Günther’s polychrome limewood sculptures of the farmer saints Notburga and Isidor (ca. 1761–1762) on either side of the Saint Francis Xavier Altar at the Benedictine Abbey church of Rott am Inn (Fig. 3.29, Plate 7).163 Represented on exactly the same scale as the painted figures in Johann Anton Höttinger’s altarpiece of the Miraculous Apparition of Francis Xavier in India, they look as if they are about to walk into the picture and take us with them. Toying again with the interaction between actual and fictive space these statues, dressed in the same peasant garb as their eighteenth-century viewers, gesture toward the narrative—playfully, Notburga’s scythe looks as if it is about to slice open the canvas—like locals providing a commentary about its exotic subject for our benefit. Other cartouches resist narrative, providing only glimpses of iconography (saint’s attributes or instruments of the Passion) or (through the facial expressions of putti) appropriate emotional responses so that the viewer is encouraged to conjure up the scene in his or her mind like the Jesuit composition of place.164 Such is remarkable series of cartouches in the lower section of the dome of the Gardekirche in Vienna (begun 1755), which Yonan has recently brought to scholarly attention (Fig. 3.30).165 These elastic and twisting knots of scrolls and vines frame empty space yet support putti who proffer crucifixes, ecclesiastical vestments, a rosary, a bible, and references to Christ’s suffering—they are interwoven with spiny cords that recall the Crown

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 153

3.28 Franz Joseph Spiegler, Europe, 1749, with stucco work by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, 1747–1751. Nave spandrel fresco, Abbey Church, Zwiefalten. Universal Images Group/Art Resource, NY

of Thorns—merging the decorative with the semantic as do the writhing thorn scrolls flanking the Crucifixion in the Flügelaltar at Überlingen (Fig. 3.4). These cartouches encourage contemplation through the jarring juxtaposition between the playful visages of the cherubs and the violence of their subject. Other cartouches play with our expectations about frame and narrative simply by enclosing mirrors, so when looking into them we are faced not with a holy image or story but with ourselves—the ultimate manifestation of the selfreflectiveness of the Rococo. Such are Franz Xaver Schmuzer’s nave pendentive cartouches at the Premonstratensian abbey of Steingaden (1740–1741; Fig. 3.31, Plate 8), in which he takes this visual conceit even further by juxtaposing a cartouche with a real mirror with one with a false mirror—complete with feigned leaded glass—which instead of reflecting its surroundings shows only abstract striations of light that are completely emptied of meaning.166 Some cartouches become a more literal intermediary between the temporal and the spiritual.167 Such are the cartouches that engulf pulpits, confessionals, and viewing galleries, as in Matthias Fackler’s pulpit (ca. 1765) at Eschlbach (Fig. 3.27). Instead of a sounding-board (known as a tester) the structure

154 The Spiritual Rococo

is crowned by lasso-like cartouche enclosing a web of gilded rocailles dotted with tiny mirrors, like a fishing net poised to capture the words of the preacher in the box below. This mesh interferes with our view of heaven, represented by a pair of stucco clouds and cherub heads on the vault, parting only for the dove of the Holy Spirit which descends in a sunburst above the head of the preacher while the symbols of the Evangelists float on wave-like scrolls below. Similarly, in Johann Michael Feichtmayr’s confessionals at Zwiefalten, embracing wings of grey shellwork adorned with pink and green garlands outline the entrance to priest’s box and side compartments as if marking the boundary between the profane world and the place where the penitent will obtain the sacrament of Penance (their access to the priest is further mediated via a pair of Rococo grilles). A analogous function is performed by the clerestory viewing galleries around the nave at Rott am Inn by a team working under Stukkator Jakob Rauch (1760– 1762), the balustrades of which dissolve into a transparent garden trellis of rocailles and foliage: a mesh that frames yet partially obscure the worshipers’ view of the Mass (Fig. 3.32).

3.29 Ignaz Günther, Saint Notburga, polychrome limewood, Abbey Church, Rott am Inn, Bavaria, 1760–1762. Photo: Author

Architecture “Fashioned of Ornament”: Dominikus Zimmermann and Johann Michael Feichtmayr The final stage in the liberation of ornament was achieved by the Rococo architectural inventions of Dominikus Zimmermann and Johann Michael Feichtmayr, by which I mean architecture “fashioned of ornament” (“aus Ornament gebildet”)—to use Ebba Krull’s apt expression—and not Rococo architecture in the sense of a complete structural system or even entire building.168 Zimmermann and Feichtmayr experimented with these paraarchitectural forms in three places: an altarpiece in a modest urban chapel (the high altar of the Johanneskirche in Landsberg am Lech, 1752–1754), a shrine

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 155

in the center of the nave of a massive pilgrimage church (the Gnadenaltar at Vierzehnheiligen, 1763), and the chancel of another celebrated pilgrimage church (the Wieskirche), by far the largest of these projects and one which fundamentally changed the way visitors interacted with a church interior. Zimmermann’s high altar at the Johanneskirche (1741–1750) is the focal point of a chapel of conservative design built to replace an existing cemetery chapel (Figs. 3.33, 3.34, Plate 9).169 The building is box-like, its rectangular exterior enclosing an oval nave articulated by freestanding Corinthian columns set slightly forward from the wall (on the side walls they are paired) and incorporating a pair of semicircular chapel niches flanking the chancel. The chancel is circular and extends beyond the perimeter of the rectangle to accommodate two large windows on either side. Thus not only is the chancel in a separate space and illuminated with natural light but a proscenium arch and altar rail make it inaccessible to the congregation. This basic arrangement recalls the placement of the oval Salon de la Princess at the Hôtel de Soubise at the end of a rectilinear enfilade, its floor-to-ceiling

3.30 Dome cartouche, Gardekirche, Vienna, begun 1755. Photo: Author

3.31 Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave pendentive cartouches, Abbey Church, Steingaden, Bavaria, 1740–1741. Photo: Author

156 The Spiritual Rococo

3.32 Jakob Rauch, clerestory galleries, Abbey Church, Rott am Inn, Bavaria, 1760–1762. Photo: Author

3.33 Johann Baptist Zimmermann, High Altar, Johanneskirche, Landsberg am Lech, Bavaria, 1752. Photo: Author

windows bathing it in light and beckoning from afar (Figs. 2.19–2.21). The altarpiece is a tangle of illusions and contradictions. Made entirely of wood and stucco yet painted to resemble marble, it looks like a piece of architecture yet is basically an elaborate cartouche frame for a sculptural group of The Baptism of Christ and a pair of flanking angels (by Johann Luidl). Its robustness is belied by its permeability: perforated by three large openings at the center and three smaller apertures at the top it allows partial glimpses of an expansive landscape and cloudburst frescoed on the chancel wall. In Zimmermann’s altarpiece structure gives way to ornament and solidity evaporates into fragmented forms like the loose brushwork in a landscape by Watteau or Fragonard. If we observe the altarpiece from the ground up—the way it is meant to be seen since worshippers would look first at the altar table where the Eucharist is celebrated and only later meditate upon the heavenly dome—

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 157

it transforms before our eyes from a traditionally structured base and predella into the giant triple cartouche—here it still maintains a modicum of solidity through the four false marble volute pillars that I believe derive from the inventions of Babel given their similarity to those of Feichtmayr’s Gnadenaltar (see below)—and finally a pediment that discards all architectural pretenses in favor of scalloped cartouches, jagged-edged rocailles, cherubs, sunbursts, and sheaves of grass, all arranged into two mirror-image halves split down the middle like a Rorschach pattern. The sturdiness of the decorative elements in the upper two-thirds of the altarpiece is the main conceit of this work, a mikromegalisch (to use Bauer’s term) enlargement into an architectural structure of ornament meant to be subservient to it. In contrast to the altar enclosing Bernini’s Ecstasy of Saint Teresa (Fig. 3.16)—an unbroken aedicule that still adheres to the essential rules of classical architecture and fully contains the explosive energy of the sculptural group—Zimmermann’s altarpiece itself explodes, and in place of the focused concentration of Bernini’s interior and its Theatrum Sacrum Zimmermann’s diaphanous structure provides intriguing but confusing glimpses into landscapes and heavenly visions that can only be partially seen behind its screen of rocailles. The altarpiece contrasts, rather than integrates, with the rest of the church: in fact the only place where the architecture responds to it is in the mixtilinear window over the proscenium arch, which mimics the openings in the altarpiece and allows the congregation another view into the dome.

3.34 Detail of Figure 3.33. Photo: Author

158 The Spiritual Rococo

3.35 PierreEdmé Babel, fantasy cartouche from Differents Compartiments d’Ornements (Paris, ca. 1736). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

Otherwise the nave with its vault fresco of four scenes from the life of John the Baptist set against forests, mountains, lakes, and architecture is set firmly in the worshipper’s space. But even though the chancel does not allow us to enter it does urge viewers to approach it, whether to see the frescoes partially hidden by its framework of cartouches or simply to marvel at its intricacy and make sense of its complexities—to “make them linger, dally, and delay” in Sheriff’s felicitous characterization of a similar visual fragmentation in French Rococo painting.170 One of the surprises that awaits us if we do is the thickness

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 159

of the framework of volutes and rocailles, their flanks adorned with further rocailles, angels, cartouches, and gilding. A view from the side also makes us feel as if we can walk into the landscape behind the screen—long dangling floral garlands on either side even suggest a transition into a pastoral zone, and the painted hillocks and stream take on the third dimension as they transform into the stucco foundation of the sculptural group. It is also only here that we can observe the dome fresco in its entirety. The most dramatic manifestation of the cartouche as a means of transportation to the divine is Feichtmayrs’ magic-coach like shrine—it was formerly misattributed to Jacob Michael Küchel—at the center of the pilgrimage church of Our Lady of the Ascension at Vierzehnheiligen, built after plans by Neumann by Gottfried Heinrich Krohne (1703–1756) and Johann Thomas Nißler (1713–1769) (Fig. 3.6).171 Although it shares some features with the Landsberg altar, notably the use of volute pillars, it is a much solider structure in darker colors comprising four giant rocaille volutes in false marble capped by a baldachin crown that recalls, even if generically, that of Bernini at St. Peter’s. Its solidity probably derives from its source, for it is an architectural-scale rendering of one of Babel’s signature monumental cartouche designs (ca. 1736/40; Fig. 3.35), a connection first noted by Irmscher.172 Nevertheless, while it is less chaotic than Zimmerman’s retable it also introduces two quintessentially Rococo features that are lacking in the earlier structure. First, it makes an ironic reversal of the role of frame and framed: the “cab” of this coach-shrine is completely empty (the actual shrine chamber, small and visible through a grill at the back, is underneath it) while the sculptures of the 14 helper saints to whom the altar is dedicated are arranged on the outside of the volutes and on top of the baldachin. Second, the shrine requires us to move around it. Only when we circumnavigate it do we discover the location of the saints, and the empty center allows us clear views of high altar (it frames it as Bernini’s Baldacchino frames his Gloria) and of the giant oval nave—its very shape and lack of pews encourages movement—with its massive ceiling fresco of the Holy Trinity, the Virgin Mary, and the Fourteen Holy Helpers. Unlike any other church we have seen the nave serves as a spacious ambulatory for the shrine, the true focus of the interior, and except for the ceiling it lacks figural imagery that might compete with

3.36 Plan, Wieskirche. After Walter Hege and Gustav Barthel, Barockkirchen in Altbayern und Schwaben (Berlin, 1941), p. 41

3.37 Wieskirche, detail of apse. Photo courtesy Michael Mertens

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 161

the latter: it is adorned only with abstract grey rocailles distributed over the ambulatory and clerestory vaults and arches and some gilding in the lower arch spandrels. Bernhard Schütz sees the shrine’s very conceit of being “built not with architecture but with ornament” as a conscious metaphor for the miraculous workings of God rooted in this very spot.173 Walking around the shrine is an act of pilgrimage. The 14 little saints in white stucco are arranged on four tiers: the lowest four on plinths in the surrounding balustrade, four higher ones on the bases of the volutes, two which are enclosed in niches on the north and south sides on a kind of mezzanine level, and four on the canopy. As we walk around it the altar creates the sensation that the saints are moving, an effect enhanced by their twisting torsos, and their varied glances and gestures (upward, downward, and across the room). Along the axis of each volute (plinth, volute, canopy) the saints line up in threes and then as we continue around we behold six at once as a second volute comes into view. When we face the north or south sides we see seven saints at once: those seated on the pair of volutes and the niche in front, accompanied by white angels and golden cherub heads. But there is no place where the visitor can appreciate all 14 saints in a single view. The very emptiness at the center and the holes in the volutes beckon us onward, giving us tempting glimpses—but nothing more—of the saints we will see when we continue our pilgrimage. Even when we reach the final goal, the shrine chamber at the base of the structure with paintings of the miraculous appearances, we can only see it through a screen. The grandest manifestation of Zimmermann’s ornament-architecture is the upper zone of the apse/ambulatory of the Wieskirche (1743/45–1754) (Figs. 3.2, 3.37, Plate 10).174 Like Vierzehnheiligen the church is designed to accommodate a procession of pilgrims in galleries around the perimeters of an oval nave (Fig. 3.36). However unlike at Vierzehnheiligen, where the oval interior is enclosed within a rectangular wall, the Wieskirche plan is a true oval, the exterior walls following the contours of the arcade. Another critical difference is that the surrounding galleries are not darkened by a clerestory level but open up to the whole interior, reaching all the way to the main vault or, between the paired columns, to its springing. This has the effect, discussed by Bauer and others, of bathing the whole interior in natural light and of allowing the circumambulating pilgrims a more expansive view of the nave, although a deceptive one, as Harries reminds us, since at no single spot can we appreciate the entire space and all of its iconography.175 Only when we walk around this perimeter can we see all eight narrative frescoes of Christ and the Apostles hidden away in the soffits between the paired arches supporting the ceiling vault; the grisaille cherubs representing the eight Beatitudes set against a gilded background within irregular cartouches in the spandrels over the paired columns; and most ingeniously the angels in golden skies, which peek in and out of four false balconies cut into the sides of the ceiling fresco as we pass by—partial views are also visible from two other places: from directly below through holes in the ceiling between the paired columns (they

162 The Spiritual Rococo

are painted on the sides with false balustrades) and above their entablatures on each side. You can only see these furtive images from the side galleries— and even then only if you stand in just the right place—further underscoring the importance of a procession-like movement around the perimeter in the conception of this church’s interior. Even the vault fresco, of Christ the Savior and Redeemer of the World (Johann Baptist Zimmermann, 1753–1754) is designed so that it must be seen from all four sides, since the perspective only works on the section directly opposite the viewer and collapses on the closer side. The perspective of the nave fresco does not work when seen directly from below. More interesting is what goes on in the choir. Instead of a circular chancel set apart like a stage from the congregation by a narrow proscenium arch as at the Johanneskirche in Landsberg, the whole width and length of the long rectangular chancel at the Wieskirche is visible from the nave. More importantly, the chancel incorporates a continuation of the ambulatory that runs along the sides under the arcades around the semicircular apse at the back behind the holy image, allowing visitors access to the entire perimeter of the chancel. The ambulatory is crowned with a row of three fully threedimensional rocaille cartouche openings per side on the inner and outer walls, casting light onto the vault painting of the Presentation of the Instruments of Christ’s Passion by Johann Baptist Zimmermann (Figs. 3.2, 3.37). These openings—like the upper part of the Johanneskirche altar they reverse the role of architecture and ornament—are set atop an interior double arcade, resting on piers and grey false marble columns, which serves as the inner perimeter of the ambulatory and connects with the high altar and shrine. Even the frame around the vault painting is a giant cartouche, part curvilinear and part jagged-edged, sprinkled with garlands, sheaves of grass, and other pastoral motifs, and combining Augsburger Geschmack with Regency details like the trellis pattern over the choir entrance. As in the nave, only the act of walking through the passageway allows the iconography to unfold. As we move down the ambulatory a series of three fresco vignettes of the miracles of Christ on each side—they specifically relate to healing and resurrection, appropriate for a pilgrimage church—emerge and disappear behind the cartouche openings on the opposite side of the apse like the slides in a magic lantern show. As with the iconography of the nave the episodes are impossible to view from a single viewpoint, so that once again ornament complicates our ability to make sense of an image in a way that necessitates movement. As Yonan remarks, “the Wieskirche … presents salvation as a process, one that unfolds metaphorically through the experience of moving through its interior … Perception and imagination fleetingly resolve what sensory experience of the church’s interior presents as partial and unconfirmed.”176 Peter Volk comments about the upper structure of the choir arcade that “all borders between architecture, painting, and stucco décor are surpassed,” and Bauer sees it as the “complete liberation of an architectural structural system achieved through ornament”: it is solid yet permeable at the

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 163

same time.177 Harries takes a more negative view, understanding Rococo architecture fashioned of ornament as at the Johannes- and Wieskirche and at Vierzehnheiligan as harbingers of the “death of ornament” since these threedimensional cartouches and volutes discard their role as frames or bearers of meaning.178 But I see them as quite the opposite: their monumentality empowers the cartouches as a unique vehicle for linking, partially obscuring, and “making strange” the boundaries between the worldly and spiritual and for addressing the specific needs of a generation of Catholics no longer satisfied with a single-viewpoint approach to Christianity.

Heaven on Earth The Rococo church interiors of Central Europe are a celebration of the natural world brought indoors. Nature affects the smallest details: in the pilaster capitals at Steinhausen (1728–1730) tiny stucco birds feed their young and squirrels frolic; at Andechs (1751–1755) gilded flowering vines creep toward the frames of the nave vault frescoes; and in the pilgrimage churches of Maria Steinbach (1749) and Maria Thann (1756) paintings of miracles in local valleys and villages in the nave and galleries are like windows onto the surrounding countryside, combining historical past and sacred present.179 In many churches, such as Berg am Laim (Fig. 3.21), the small chapel at Hohenpeißenberg with its ceiling by Matthäus Günther (1748), or as we have seen in Zwiefalten (Fig. 3.25, Plate 5), country pilgrimages are depicted in the ceiling frescoes so that pilgrims can project themselves onto its divine narrative, and as noted above the architecture of Zimmermann’s nave galleries and ambulatory at the Wieskirche—based as it is on walking and episodic observation—serves as a metaphor not only for pilgrimage as such but for the pilgrim’s relationship to a only partially knowable God.180 Central European spirituality was embedded in a landscape overlaid with pilgrimage roads punctuated with signs of Divine Grace in a bewildering variety of forms. In farmyards, crossroads, and fields there are wayside crosses (Wegkreuze) and statues of St. Johann Nepomuk (Hansl am Weg, especially in Austria and the Czech lands); little statues on columns (Bildstöcken or Bildstöckli in Switzerland); telephone-booth like shrines (Wegkapellen), often located next to springs or fountains; and tiny wayside chapels (Wallfahrtskapellen) on hillsides and in valleys dedicated to the stations of the cross, the Mount of Olives, the Trinity, Saint Anthony, and the Virgin in various guises (Fig. 3.38), or to local miracle images (Gnadenbilder). In villages there are graveyard or ossuary chapels (Friedhofkskapellen or Beinhauskapellen) and in open country or towns there are pilgrimage churches (Wallfahrtskirchen)—modest like Our Lady at Mussenhausen (1751–1766) south of Augsburg or massive like Die Wies—as well as parish churches (Pfarrkirchen) or village chapels (Dorfkapellen)—some, like Eschlbach, are in farmyards (Fig. 3.27). Finally there are the great abbeys, the focus of the spiritual and intellectual life of

164 The Spiritual Rococo

3.38 Wayside Chapel near Kempten, Bavaria, eighteenth century. Photo: Author

the countryside, some of them small towns in their own right. Many of the smaller structures were built and maintained by their communities or simply erected by local farmers—in fact after the Thirty Years War, as Marc Forster reminds us, “all shrines owed their existence to popular enthusiasm” and their relationship with the official Church was often ambivalent, although some were financed by the abbeys, still the most important centers of pastoral care.181 Shrines promoted their authenticity through printed miracle books, combinations of histories of the cult, pilgrims’ testimonies, and local legends,

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 165

as well as cheap paintings and engravings of the holy image, especially in the eighteenth century with the growth of literacy.182 The surrounding countryside is ever-present inside these wayside shrines. Many are lined with small votive panel paintings given in thanksgiving for miracles.183 Usually depicting the supplicant(s) experiencing a dangerous accident or fatal disease and the holy image that saved them they inevitably demonstrate a keen knowledge of local surroundings, whether livestock fields, faithfully rendered valleys and mountains, roadways, townscapes with their churches, or the interiors of farmer’s houses. In the west wall at Maria Steinbach or the foyer of the Swiss chapel at Beinwil the visitor is overwhelmed with a sense not just of local geography but also of the personality of its community, a group identity embracing farmers, townsmen, and craftsmen. In speaking out against this profane way of expressing faith the exasperated Vienna court preacher Abraham a Sancta Clara (1644–1709) lashed out against these: “large panels, little panels, middle-sized panels, old panels, painted panels, silverplated panels, gilded panels.”184 Others, like Schwarzhueber, enthusiastically endorsed such aspects of popular piety.185 In the eighteenth century many of these delightful vignettes of local life were framed and otherwise adorned with rocailles adapted from prints by the Klaubers and others like them. Wayside shrines, chapels, and pilgrimage churches grew dramatically in number after the Reformation when longer pilgrimages to Santiago de Compostela or Rome were no longer feasible. Between 1650 and 1750 Central Europe witnessed a massive expansion of pilgrimages, processions, and liturgical festivals, many with new devotions to the Eucharist and especially the Virgin Mary in her manifold and often localized guises, frequently associated with natural forms such as trees and fountains.186 Preacher Christoph Selhamer (ca. 1640–1703) wrote that it was “as if the dear saints have left their Heaven, so many of them having been taken to magnificently-built houses of God in their honor in Bavaria.”187 The list of churches with Marian dedications that were built or redecorated in the lateseventeenth and eighteenth centuries in Central Europe seems endless, from major pilgrimage centers such as Steinhausen, Andechs, Rottenbuch (Fig. 3.26), and Dießen (Fig. 3.39) to smaller ones like Maria Steinbach, Dietramszell, Lehenbühl, Maria Hilf auf dem Lechfeld, Mussenhausen, Tuntenhausen, Maria-Thann, Pöstlingberg, and Hergiswald. Although I believe that Harries goes a bit far with his notion that “Marian piety is a presupposition of the Bavarian rococo church”—he even tries to find hidden Marian structural and spatial relationships in churches not dedicated to the Virgin—there can be no doubt that Mary was a key player in rural sanctity.188 Country pilgrimages served as metaphors for the journey of the soul, the geography itself representing the blessings and dangers of life and the shrine the ultimate goal of unity with the Divine.189 Although holy images are believed to possess special powers—in Lithuania they even called them dievukai or “little gods”—it is not so much these spiritual markers that possess thaumaturgic power as the land itself, the sanctified space

166 The Spiritual Rococo

3.39 Johann Joachim Dietrich, High Altar, Abbey Church, Dießen, Bavaria, 1738. Photo: Peta Gillyatt Bailey

where miracles occur, time collapses, and earth unites with heaven: “[t]he buildings and sites literally entrenched Catholicism in the landscape and further linked the Church to the traditional religion of the people who lived there.”190 On a generic level, the landscape and nature in its smallest details are a manifestation of the glory of Creation and a reflection of the garden

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 167

of Paradise, and the very idea of going on pilgrimage is an act of optimism, wellbeing, and happiness. The Rococo church interiors of Central Europe are also a celebration of heaven on earth, the reduction of the sun, moon, and empyreal firmament to a human scale. We know this not only because these interiors are dominated by heavenly frescoes full of clouds and sunbursts but thanks to an extremely rare sermon relating to a specific Rococo church interior: Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, das ist: Kirchweyh- Lob- und Jubel-Predig. Die neue Marianische Stüfft-Kirchen (The New Heaven at Dießen, or Church Consecration-, Praise-, and Jubilation Sermon for the New Marian Collegiate Church), delivered in 1739 by the Augustinian canon Augustin Fastl (1707–1767) upon the occasion of the opening of the new church dedicated to the Virgin Mary at Dießen, one of the richest manifestations of the mature Rococo in Germany, with stuccoes by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, Franz Xaver Feichtmayr, and Johann Georg Üblhör and frescoes by Johann Georg Bergmüller.191 The sermon is interesting not only because it directly refers to the church’s gilded rocailles, paintings, and frescoes but because it tells people how they should look at them. According to Fastl’s sermon, which is full of rhetorical bombast and references to celestial bodies, gold, light, and happiness (paradoxically it was delivered in the pouring rain), this “costly, magnificent, new House of GOD is a new Heaven … here, in this her holy Temple … has our Beloved Lady raised her palace, her throne, her place of residence,” and later, “this present collegiate church is an incomparably holy, new, heavenly Jerusalem, that is to say a new Heaven.”192 Fastl uses the gleaming surfaces, colored false marble, bright paintings, and the candles on its altarpieces as talking points in his homily, not only as generic metaphors for divine glory but for specific spiritual or moral values. Most notably, he equates the term “sparkle” (Glanz)—used here in reference to gilded decoration on the church’s altarpieces—with human virtue (Tugend), the most direct link between spirituality and Rococo décor in this book.193 Throughout the sermon Fastl instructs his audience how to observe the iconography and decorative details of the church interior. Indicating the crown of the high altar with its Trinity group by Joachim Dietrich (ca. 1738) and gilded Gloria and baldachin crown he declares, “What is that beautiful cupola over there over the Marian Choir-Altar except a shimmering crown on the head of the Queen of Heaven MARIA? O how many stars! How many saints sparkle on it! You can understand the Saints in Heaven as these stars in the firmament, so therefore lift, Christian listeners, lift your eyes … look at this new heaven.”194 In the most intriguing reference he even encourages his viewers to look around the whole interior with a papillotage-like back-and-forth movement: “We gaze in awe over these utterly new, so meaningful paintings, over this completely new, so artistic stucco work, over this completely new, so handsomely sounding organ up above … We gaze in awe on all sides of the Choir-Altar, on that Marian Throne of Heaven, there on those other eight masterworks, so many just newly made, these completely newly painted

168 The Spiritual Rococo

altars, here and there so many expensive sparkles of gold plate, and polished marble. O, you beautiful temple of the LORD!”195 But in the end Fastl brings all this heavenly glory down to earth, to the level of his congregation and their natural surroundings, declaring that our role is that of the earth and of plants, as with the “happy nuns of Dießen,” a local group of female religious under the patronage of St. Mechtildis, whom he calls the saint’s “holy plants,” or when he says to the audience that “the flowers have come forth from our earth: what kind of flowers are these? … the growing flowers on the earth can mean the progress of the virtue of humankind: the man is the earth, the virtues are the flowers.”196 French and Central European ideas about spiritual happiness and its relationship to society were as different as those societies themselves—one aristocratic, urban, and interior, the other embracing a wider spectrum of humanity and tied to the land. The French salon was a world apart from the abbey libraries, farmers’ houses, and wayside shrines of Switzerland or Bavaria, yet the visual language of Rococo with its landscapes, soft colors, sparkle, and invitation to participate using the senses—taken together with the beguiling spirituality of the French Spiritual Rococo with its emphasis on refuge, the natural world, and joy—suited both. Both cultures exploited the rocaille and cartouche as a tool to mediate between zones and concepts— whether the urban versus Arcadian world as in the Parisian ruelle or the worldly and divine as in the Central European church interior—and Rococo’s avoidance of manipulative single viewpoints encouraged people in both regions to find their own ways to make sense of it all.

Notes 1

The quotation is from Augustin Fastl, Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, das ist: Kirchweyh- Lob- und JubelPredig. Die neue Marianische Stüfft-Kirchen (Munich, 1740): 12. For more on this sermon about the interior of the Rococo church at Dießen, in Bavaria, see the end of this chapter.

2

Jacques Vanuxem, “Note sur les contrefaçons des gravures et ornements français.” in Bulletin de la société de l’histoire de l’art français, année 1952 (1953): 33; Bauer, Rocaille (Berlin, 1962), 39, 40; Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, O rococó religioso no Brasil e seus antecedentes europeus (São Paulo, 2003): 12; Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo” (New York 1966), 266.

3

Henry-Russell Hitchcock, German Rococo: The Zimmermann Brothers (Baltimore, 1968): 17. The quotation is by Max Hauttman. On the so-called Pietas Bavarica, the expression of popular piety in Wittelsbach Bavaria, see Christiane Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria: the Sculptor Ignaz Günther and Eighteenth-Century Aesthetic Art Theory (University Park, 2011): 18.

4

Nigel Aston, Art and Religion in Eighteenth-Century Europe (London, 2009): 239; Karsten Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church: Between Faith and Aestheticism (New Haven and London, 1983): 145–6, 199; Hans Bleibrunner, Andachtsbilder aus Altbayern (Munich, 1971): 10–11.

5

Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 268; Günther Irmscher, “Style rocaille,” Barockberichte 51/52 (2009): 356.

6

Philippe Minguet, Esthétique du rococo (Paris, 1966): 267.

7

Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, 72–6, 80.

8

Michael Yonan, “The Wieskirche: Movement, Perception, and Salvation in the Bavarian Rococo, Studies in Eighteenth Century Culture 41 (2012): 18; Ernest Mundt, “The Rocaille in Eighteenth-Century Bavarian Architecture,” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 26, 4 (Summer, 1968): 503.

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 169

9

Yonan, “Wieskirche,” 4–5.

10

Drėma, Vladas. Vilniaus Bažnyčios (Vilnius, 2008): 974–83.

11

Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 73, 75, 81; Bernhard Rupprecht, Die Bayerische Rokoko-Kirche (Munich, 1959): 55, 56.

12

Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 94, 99.

13

Pavel Kalina, Benedikt Ried: a počátky záalpské renesance (Prague, 2009): 115–20; Guido Reuter, Barocke Hochaltäre (Petersberg, 2002): 8–14.

14

Pavel Kalina, “In opera gotico unicus: the Hybrid Architecture of Jan Blažej Santini-Aichl and Patterns of Memory in Post-Reformation Bohemia,” Uměni LVIII (2010): 42–56.

15

On the peculiarities of Southern German religious devotion in the countryside, see Marc R. Forster, Catholic Revival in the Age of the Baroque: Religious Identity in Southwest Germany, 1550–1750 (Cambridge, 2001): 61–76. From the sixteenth century in Bavaria, “the sources reveal a Christianity based in ritual and habituated to a situation that was profoundly rural, agrarian, and local.” [Philip M. Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints: Counter-Reformation Propaganda in Bavaria (Berkeley, 1993): 20].

16

Georg Kirchmeir and Margret Hasenmüller, Die Wies (Lechbruck, 2006): 3–7; Bernhard Schütz, Wallfahrtskirche Basilika Vierzehnheiligen (Regensburg, 2005): 2–4; Ingeborg Maria Buck, Katholische Pfarr- und Wallfahrtskirche Maria Steinbach (Lindenburg, 1998): 1–4; Joachim Salzgeber, Einsiedeln (Ensiedeln, 1980): 13–14; Aston, Art and Religion, 242; Forster, Catholic Revival, 97–102; Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, 121–3; Yonan, “Wieskirche,” 7–8.

17

Yonan, “Wieskirche,”19.

18

Irmscher, 386, 411; Leopold Schmidt, Barocke Volksfrömmigkeit (Vienna, 1971).

19

Hugo Schnell and Uta Schedler, Lexikon der Wessobrunner Künstler und Handwerker (Munich, 1988): 325, 341; Anton Röhrl, Die Künstlerfamilie Asam und ihr Wirken in Niederbayern und der Oberpfalz (Abensberg, 1987): 9, 137; Bernhard Rupprecht and Wolf-Christian von der Mülbe, Die Brüder Asam: Sinn und Sinnlichkeit im bayerischen Barock (Regensburg, 1980): 19, 46; Eberhard Hempel, Baroque Art and Architecture in Central Europe (Harmondsworth, 1965): 185; Hitchcock, Zimmermann Brothers, 77–8; Harries, The Bavarian Baroque Church, 146. Zimmermann’s ex-voto painting is illustrated in Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, fig. 59.

20

Rupprecht and von der Mülbe, Asam, 50. Harries writes: “The popular character of the Bavarian rococo is linked to the piety and backwardness of the Bavarians … eighteenth-century Bavaria was an unenlightened country. The church remained the leading cultural force, more important than the court, far more important than the bourgeoisie. The country continued to be very much a land of peasants, whose situation had changed little since the Middle Ages. This backwardness is closely connected with the baroque character of the rococo church” [Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 8. On Amort see Veit Loers, Rokokoplastik und Dekorationssysteme (Munich, 1976): 103–4; Yonan, “Wieskirche,” 9–11].

21

Sabine Holz, “On Sermons and Daily Life” in Joris van Eijnatten, Preaching, Sermon and Cultural Change in the Long Eighteenth Century (Leiden, 2009): 275; Elfriede Moser-Rath, Dem Kirchenvolk die Leviten Gelesen: Alltag im Spiegel die Leviten gelesen (Stuttgart, 1991): 28; Loers, Rokokoplastik, 103–4; Michael Printy, “Catholic Enlightenment and Reform Catholicism in the Holy Roman Empire,” in Ulrich L Lehner and Michael O’Neill Printy eds, A Companion to the Catholic Enlightenment in Europe (Leiden, 2010): 165, 170–73, 176.

22

Ulrich L. Lehner, “Introduction,” in Lehner and Printy, Companion, 13; Ulrich L Lehner, Enlightened Monks: The German Benedictines 1740–1803 (Oxford, 2011): 183.

23

Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 3, 100–101; 183.

24

Thomas P. Saine, The Problem of Being Modern, or the German Pursuit of Enlightenment from Leibniz to the French Revolution (Detroit, 1997): 190. See also pp. 37, 186–7.

25

Saine, The Problem of Being Modern, 20.

26

Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, 133, 177.

27

Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 4–5; see also 13–14, 24.

28

Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 8–9, 73–5, 183.

29

Friedrich Wolf, François de Cuvilliés, 1695–1768 (Munich, 1967): 65–7; Wolfgang Braunfels, François Cuvilliés: Der Baumeister der galanten Architektur des Rokoko (Munich, 1986): 143–7; and Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” fig. 54.

170 The Spiritual Rococo

30

Harries, The German Rococo Church, 13, 18; Christina Thon, J.B. Zimmermann als Stukkator (Munich and Zurich, 1977): 32–3, 65–9. Henry-Russell Hitchcock, Rococo Architecture in Southern Germany (London, 1968): 130–31. Braunfels, François Cuvilliés, 44; Peter Volk et al., Rokokoplastik in Altbayern, Bayrisch-Schwaben und im Allgäu (Munich, 1981): 19; Loers, Rokokoplastik, 12–14; Hitchcock, Zimmermann Brothers, 42–3; Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” in Henri Zerner, ed., Le stampe e la diffusione delle immagini e degli stili (Bologna, 1983): 110, 124. On the impact of French engravings in Germany see Yves Bruant, “Un grand colletionneur, marchand et graveur … Gabriel Huquier,” Gazette des Beaux-arts 6, 37 (July–Sept 1950): 108.

31

Harries, The German Rococo Church, 36 (his italics); Rupprecht, Rokoko-Kirche, 31; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 341.

32

Michael Levey, Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth-Century Painting (London, 1966): 39; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 340, 356; Alastair Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings and the Diffusion of the Rococo,” 110; Hermann Bauer and Wolf-Christian von der Mülbe, Barocke Deckenmalerei in Süddeutschland (Munich, Berlin, 2000): 37–8.

33

Sigfrid Hofer, Studien zur Stuckausstattung im frühen 18. Jahrhundert (Munich and Berlin, 1987): 35, 73–4.

34

Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 68; Karsten Harries, The Broken Frame, Three Lectures (Washington, 1989): 65; Vanuxem, “Note,” 31. A groundswell of recent literature and museum exhibitions are making the work of Augsburg painters better known, most recently Alois Epple and Josef Straßer. Die Gemälde Johann Georg Bergmüller 1688–1762 (Lindenberg im Allgäu, 2012); Emanuel Braun, et al., Johann Evangelist Holzer: Maler des Lichts (Augsburg, 2010).

35

Norbert Lieb and H Müller, Augsburger Rokoko (Augsburg, 1956): 5, 18; Vanuxem, “Note,” 31–2; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 358; Helmut Gier, “Buchdruck und Verlagswesen in Augsburg vom Dreißigjährigen Krieg bis zum Ende der Reichsstadt,” in Helmut Gier and Johannes Janota, eds, Augsburger Buchdruck und Verlagswesen von den Anfängen bis zur Gegenwart (Wiesbaden, 1997):, 493, 500; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes: dessinateurs, peintures, architectes, sculpteurs et graveurs: Écoles français, italienne, allemande et des Pays-Bas II vols (Paris, 1880): 422; Friedrich Schott, Martin Engelbrecht und seine Nachfolger (Vaduz, 2009): 7; Ebba Krull, Franz Xaver Habermann (1721–1796): ein Augsburger Ornamentist des Rokoko (Augsburg, 1977): 10. The collections I have surveyed include many such prints, such as Merz’s Neu inventirte Schilde erster Theil, Prémier livre de Cartouches (Augsburg, undated) engraved by Benedict Winkler after Lajoüe (SGSM, 1960.1115 3), or Merz’s Neu inventierte zierliche Spring-Brunnen, Nouveau livre de fontaines (Augsburg, undated) after Boucher (SSA, Mertz 13.14).

36 Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 417; Vanuxem, “Note,” 31. In German the goût nouveau was known as “neuester Manier” or “letzter Façon,” and it was also called “Muschel, Schnecken, Schnörkel, Grillen-Werk” [Alastair Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 109–10]; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 339. 37

GSA, G.2683; MAK, D-506 F-72 S-51 Z-1. See also Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 114.

38 Krull, Habermann, 18–19. 39 Krull, Habermann, 21. 40

Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 359. He refers to such designs as “nicht realisierbar.”

41 Krull, Habermann, 12; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 359. On Nilson see: G.D. Helke, Johann Esaias Nilson (1721–1788): Augsburger Miniaturmaler, Kupferstecher, verleger und Kunstakademiedirektor (Munich, 2005). 42

Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 124. Laing has Engelbrecht’s press beginning in 1748, but Schott and Krull note that his press in fact began in 1719 and he acquired his brother’s in 1735 [Krull, Habermann, 17, Schott, Engelbrecht, 13–16].

43 Krull, Habermann, 17. 44 Krull, Habermann, 17–18; Schott, Engelbrecht, 9–17, 50; Vanuxem, “Note,” 32; Irmscher, “Style Rococo,” 357. 45 Krull, Habermann, 11–15, 21–7; Irmscher, “Style Rococo,” 358. 46

See Gerhard Hojer, et al., Nymphenburg: Palace, Park and Pavilions (Munich, 2009): 136–43. On the silk wallpapers see also Friederike Wappenschmidt, Chinesischen Tapeten für Europa: vom Rollenbild zur Bildtapete (Berlin, 1989).

47

Schott, Engelbrecht, cat. 1545–48, p. 82; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 430, 441, 448–9, 452.

48

Schott, Engelbrecht, 432.

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 171

49 Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 437. 50 Krull, Habermann, 30–32; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 440. 51 Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 430, 451–2. 52

Schott, Engelbrecht, cats 1423–6, 1431–4; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 441, 455.

53

Schott, Engelbrecht, cats 1411–14, p. 77; and cats 1491–4, p. 80; and Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 443.

54

Schott, Engelbrecht, 76, cats 1383–6; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 449, 451.

55 MAD, Maciet 361–4, 51–4. 56 Krull, Habermann, 12–13; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 358–9; Bleibrunner, Andachtsbilder aus Altbayern, 12–13. The largest collections of these works are in the Graphische Sammlung and Staats- und Stadtbibliothek in Augsburg and the Staatliche Graphische Sammlung in Munich. 57

On the role of small devotional prints of the infant Jesus on domestic life in Austria in general, see Gnadenreiches Jesulein: Jesuskindverehrung in der Andachtsgraphik (Vienna, 1998). On the impact of Augsburg devotional prints on house façade painting in southern Germany see Margarete Baur-Heinhold, Süddeutsche Fassadenmalerei (Munich, 1952): esp. 63–78; on ceiling painting in the churches of Lithuania see Dalia Klajumienė, XVIII a. Sienų Tapyba: Lietuvos Bažnyčių Architektūroje (Vilnius, 2004): esp. 157–70.

58

Gier, “Buchdruck,” 481–4.

59

Hemut Gier, “Die Stapelstadt der katolischen Buchhandlung in Deutschland” in Zeitscrift des historischen Vereins für Schwaben 101 (2007): 158; Gier, “Buchdruck,” 496, 503.

60

Gier, “Buchdruck,” 503; Franz M. Ebyl, “Konfession und Buchwesen. Augsburgs Druck- und Handelsmonopol für katholische Predigtliteratur, insbesondere im 18. Jahrhundert,” in Gier and Janota, Augsburger Buchdruck, 643.

61 Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 196–9. Gier, “Buchdruck,” 512; Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 11, 194. On Lindemayr, see Birgit Boge and Ralf Georg Bogner, Oratio Funebris: Die katholische Leichenpredigt der frühen Neuzeit (Amsterdam and Atlanta, 1999): 248–57, esp. 251–2. 62

Kritik über gewisser Kritiker, Rezensenten und Brochürenmacher IV (5 April, 1790): 140.

63

On the Empress Maria Theresia and Massillon, see: Erika Kustatscher, Die Deutschordenspfarre Sarnthein (Tappeiner, 1996): 221.

64

Mauritius Nattenhusanus, Homo Simplex Et Rectus, Oder der alte redliche Teutsche Michel (Augsburg, 1701): ii, 8–10. See also: Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 11.

65

Beda Mayr, Predigten über den Catechismus: für das Landvolk auf alle Sonn- und Festtage des Jahres (Augsburg, 1777): 24–5. On Mayr’s contributions to vernacular homiletics, see Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 215–21; Boge and Bogner, Oratio Funebris, 325–9.

66

For Töpsl’s career see: Richard van Dülmen, Propst Franziskus Töpsl (1711–1796) und das AugustinerChorherrenstift Polling: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der katholischen Aufklärung in Bayern (Kallmünz, 1967). On the library building see Georg Dehio, Handbuch der deutschen Kunstdenkmäler: Bayern IV (Munich and Berlin, 2006): 1072.

67

HAB, Berlepsch Exlibris T. I. S. 139, Nr. 173.

68

See in particular Yonan, “Wieskirche,” 9–10; Printy, “Catholic Enlightenment,” 177. For monograph studies see: Georg Rückert, Eusebius Amort und das bayerische Gestesleben im 18. Jahrhundert (Munich, 1956) and Karin Precht-Nusßbaum, Zwischen Augsburg und Rom. Der Pollinger Augustiner-Chorherr Eusebius Amort (1692–1775): Ein bedeutender Repräsentant katholischer Aufklärung in Bayern (Paring, 2007).

69 Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 82–3, 176–7; Manfred Knedlik and Georg Schrott, Anselm Desing (1699–1772): ein benediktinischer Universalgelehrter im Zeitalter der Aufklärung (Kallmünz, 1999); Alois Schmid, “Die Klöster der Oberpfalz von der Rekatholisierung bis zur Säkularisation von 1802/03,” in Bernhard Löffler and Karsten Ruppert, eds, Religiöse Prägung und politische Ordnung in der Neuzeit (Cologne, 2006): 129–30; Sigmund Fellöcker, Geschichte der Sternwarte der Benedictiner-Abtei Kremsmünster (Linz, 1864): 17–24. 70

Fellöcker, Geschichte, 19.

71

Printy, “Catholic Enlightenment,” 176–7, 200; Loers, Rokokoplastik, 103; Heinrich Döring, Die gelehrten Theologen Deutschlands im achtzehnten und neunzehnten Jahrhundert (Neustadt, 1835): 125–7.

172 The Spiritual Rococo

72

Columban Rösser, Institutiones philosophiae de homine et deo (Würzburg, 1780): 201. On Rösser, see: Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 194–6.

73

Rösser, Institutiones philosophiae, 11.

74

Augustin Schelle, Praktische Philosophie: zum Gebrauche akademischer Vorlesungen (Salzburg, 1792): 144–79.

75

Schelle, Praktische Philosophie, 136.

76

Jakob Danzer, Anleitung zur christlichen Moral für seine Schüler in Privatstunden (Salzburg, 1791): I, v. On Trent, see p. vii.

77

Danzer, Anleitung I, 17. See also: Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 207–12. Danzer’s chapter on happiness is found in volume I, pp. 60–146.

78

Danzer, Anleitung, I, 70.

79

Danzer, Anleitung, I, xxviii–xxix.

80

Danzer, Anleitung, I, 71–2.

81 Mayr, Predigten über den Catechismus, 25. 82

Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 20–21. Herman Roodenburg, “From Embodying the Rules to Embodying Belief: on Eighteenth-Century Pulpit Delivery in England, Germany and the Netherlands,” in Eijnatten, Preaching, 317, 320–21.

83 Lehner, Enlightened Monks, 213. 84 Forster, Catholic Revival, 61, 126; Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 4–5, 25; Roodenburg, “Embodying,” 316. 85

Holz, “On Sermons and Daily Life,” 275; Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 28.

86 Mayr’s Predigten über den Catechismus: für das Landvolk auf alle Sonn- und Festtage des Jahres (see above) was also directed toward the peasantry. 87

Max Tillmann, Ein Frankreichbündnis der Kunst (Berlin and Munich, 2009); Braunfels, François Cuvilliés, 17–26.

88 Tillmann, Frankreichbündnis, 160, 259–70; Braunfels, François Cuvilliés, 27; Max Tillmann, “Très belle, agreeable et bien meublée,” The Electoral Palace at Saint-Cloud in the Early Eighteenth Century,” in Denise Amy Baxter and Meredith Martin, Architectural Space in Eighteenth-Century Europe (Farnham, 2010): 37, 43. 89 Braunfels, François Cuvilliés, 20; Wolf, Cuvilliés, 12; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 360; Hitchcock, Zimmermann Brothers, 39. 90 Tillmann, Frankreichbündnis, 294–8; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 360. 91

Wolfgang Braunfels, François Cuvilliés, 10, see also 26–43. See also Wolf, Cuvilliés, 12–19. In 1716 he was styled a “Dessinateur” under the Generalbaudirektor Graf von der Wahl.

92

Braunfels, François Cuvilliés, 50; Wolf, Cuvilliés, 29, 37.

93 Loers, Rokokoplastik, 13–15; Bauer and von der Mülbe, Deckenmalerei, 162–5, 202–7. 94

Scholars still debate Zimmermann’s degree of independence from both Cuvilliés and Effner. See Wolf, Cuvilliés, 47; Thon, Zimmermann, 97, 126–33; 196–201; Braunfels, François de Cuvilliés, 80, 92–3, 97.

95

See Bauer, Rocaille, 40; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 363; Braunfels, François de Cuvilliés, 98–101.

96

Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 361–2, 366–7; Wolf, Cuvilliés, 39; Thon, Habermann, 97–105; Braunfels, François de Cuvilliés, 74–90.

97

Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 163–4; Braunfels, François de Cuvilliés, 111–16, 119–201. No complete series of Cuvilliés’ prints survive. The most complete collections today are in France, notably the École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts and the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris. The most complete catalogue of Cuvilliés printed works is Jean Laran: François de Cuvilliés: dessinateur et architecte (Paris, 1925). For the dating, about which there is some disagreement, I have followed Braunfels, as his are more closely related to historical events.

98 Wolf, Cuvilliés, 50–58, figs. 64–70; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 360–61; Thon, Zimmermann, 205; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 163–4. 99 Braunfels, François de Cuvilliés, 111–15.

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 173

100 “Desseins d’autels dédiés à son Altesse Sérénissime, Eminentissime, Monseigneur le Cardinal duc de Bavière, Evêque et Prince de Liège, Freising et Ratisbone” [ENSBA, Est Les 009, 45–8] by Cuvilliés père and fils. 101 Wolf, Cuvilliés, 48–9, 79–82, 101–3; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 367–8, 381; Thon, Zimmermann, 205; Braunfels, François de Cuvilliés, 163–8. 102 The most important reference book for the Wessobrunn School is Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon. See also Hans Rohrmann, Die Wessobrunner des 17. Jahrhunderts (Munich, 1999); Johannes Goldner and Lisa and Wilfried Bahnmüller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule (Freilassing, 1992): 1–2; Eva Christina Vollmer, Der Wessobrunner Stukkator Franz Xaver Schmuzer (Sigmaringen, 1979): 9–10; Volk, Rokokoplastik, 14–19; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 386–92; Hermann and Anna Bauer, Klöster in Bayern: eine Kunst- und Kulturgeschichte (Munich, 1993), 40; Norbert Lieb, et al., Barockkirchen zwischen Donau und Alpen (Munich, 1997): 11. 103 Goldner and Bahnmuller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule, 1; Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon, 9–36; Thon, Zimmermann, 14, 21; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 381–92. 104 Volk, Rokokoplastik, 8. 105 Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon, 325–57; Thon, Zimmermann, 14–16, 378–9; Vollmer, Schmuzer, 15, 82; Goldner and Bahnmuller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule, 10–16; Hitchcock, Zimmermann, 37. On the tradition of marrying master craftsmen’s widows and daughters, see Volk, Rokokoplastik, 14. 106 Hitchcock, Zimmermann, 37, 55; Thon, Zimmermann, 15; Goldner and Bahnmuller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule, 10. 107 Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon, 70–114; Ralf Scharnagl, Der Wessobrunner Stukkateur Johann Michael II Feichtmayr (Münster, 1993). 108 On Johann Michael, see Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon, 95–102; on Franz Xaver, see pp. 82–8; on Franz Anton, see pp. 71–3. 109 Erika Petri, Johann Michael Feichtmayr: ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des deutschen Rokoko (Mainz, 1935): ii, 1–3, 6–8, 64; Friedrich Wolf, “Der Stukkator Johann Michael Feichtmayr als Figurenbilder” in Oberbayrisches Archiv 85 (1962): 59–66; Volk, Rokokoplastik, 100; Goldner and Bahnmuller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule, 22–8. Norbert Jocher, “Matthäus Günther und seine Stukkatoren: zur Beziehung Ornament und Bild,” in T. Falk et al., eds, Matthäus Günther 1705–1788 (Munich, 1988): 170–77; Vollmer, Schmuzer, 84–6. 110 Vollmer, Schmuzer, 81; Hitchcock, Rococo Architecture, 248 n. 3; Goldner and Bahnmuller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule, 42. 111 Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon, 96; Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes, 430; Vanuxem, “Notes,” 34. 112 MAK, D429 F-71 S-44 Z 1–2; D429 F-71 S-45 3–4; D429 S-46 Z 5–6. 113 Rupprecht and von der Mülbe, Asam, 16–17; Röhrl, Die Künstlerfamilie Asam, 8, 26–30; Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 51. 114 Rupprecht and von der Mülbe, Asam, 24 Röhrl, Die Künstlerfamilie Asam, 9. 115 Röhrl, Die Künstlerfamilie Asam, 9; Bauer and Mülbe, Barocke Deckenmalerei, 13–14, 72–3. 116 The “perfect synthesis” refers to the combination of French, Germanic, and Italian features in the Germanic Rococo church interior [Herman Bauer, Rocaille. Zur Herkunft und zum Wesen eines Ornament-motivs (Berlin, 1962): 76]. Sedlmayr and Bauer earlier referred to a “true synthesis” [Hans Sedlmayr and Hermann Bauer, “Rococo,” Encyclopedia of World Art XII (New York, 1966): 256. 117 For example the Palazzo Biscari in Catania (1760s, 1770s) and the Palazzo Valguarnera-Gangi in Palermo (1750s, 1760s). For illustrations, see Angheli Zalapì, Palazzi of Sicily (Cologne, 2000): 164–91. 118 Alden R. Gordon, “A Rare Engraving of an Italian Rococo Parade Apartment of 1736: Andrea Bolzoni’s Print of the Interior of the Palazzo Cervelli in Ferrara,” Getty Research Journal, 4 (2012): 66. I am grateful to Karen Lloyd for bringing this reference to my attention. 119 Barocchetto is not as widely accepted a term as Rococo but it does appear in works such as Salvatore Pisani, Domenico Vaccaros SS Concezione a Montecalvario: Studien zu einem Gesamtkunstwerk des neapolitanischen Barocchetto (Frankfurt and New York, 1994) and Luigi Mallé, Stupinigi. Un capolavoro del settecento europeo tra barocchetto e classicismo (Torino, 1968). See also Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 259. 120 On the Modica church see Salvatore Boscarino, Sicilia Barocca: architettura e città 1610–1760 (Rome, 1997): figs 192, 147–53.

174 The Spiritual Rococo

121 Maria Arcidiacono, “Beyond the Alps: the Viennese Masters,” in Elena Montani et al, eds, Flemish Masters and other Artists: Foreign Artists from the Heritage of the Fondo Edifici di Culto del Ministero dell’Interno (Rome, 2008): 51; Gordon, “A Rare Engraving,” 66. 122 Rupprecht and von der Mülbe, Asam, 138–9. 123 Wittkower, Art and Architecture in Italy, 157–64; Gauvin Alexander Bailey, Baroque & Rococo (London, 2012): 161–7. 124 On the impact onto illusionistic ceiling painting of theatrical macchine and ephemeral apparati for Forty Hours’ devotions (a Lenten structure for displaying the host), see Genevieve Warwick, Bernini: Art as Theatre (New Haven, 2012): 43–9. 125 Bauer and von der Mülbe, Barocke Deckenmalerei, 9. 126 Richard Bösel, “L’architettura sacra di Pozzo a Vienna”, in Alberta Battisti ed., Andrea Pozzo (Milan and Trent, 1996): 161–77; Peter Vignau Wilberg, “Le finte cupole e la loro recezione nella Germania meridionale,” in Battista, Andrea Pozzo, 215–24. Pozzo’s Perspectiva pictorum et architectorum (1693) appeared in several monastic libraries, for example Benediktbeuern [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II] Abensberg Abbey [BSB, Cbm Cat. 333 (Augsburg, 1708, 2 vols)]; and the Jesuit College, Mindelheim [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (German)]. 127 Bauer and von der Mülbe, Barocke Deckenmalerei, 37–8. On the influence of Decker’s manual, see Hofer, Stuckausstattung, 29–30. 128 Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 48; Hempel, Baroque Art and Architecture, 77. 129 Hempel, Baroque Art and Architecture, 88. 130 Illustrated in Rupprecht and von der Mülbe, Die Brüder Asam, 132–3. 131 Illustrated in Rupprecht and von der Mülbe, Die Brüder Asam, 84–5. 132 Levey, Rococo to Revolution, 30, 39; Wittkower, Art and Architecture in Italy, 479–83. 133 Fabrizio Malachin and Alessia Vedova, “Mattia Bortoloni: dagli esordi alla maturità veneziana,” in Malachin and Vedova, eds, Bortoloni, Piazzetta, Tiepolo: il ‘700 veneto (Milan, 2010): 34; Keith Christiansen, Tiepolo (New York, 1996): 311–17. 134 Hitchcock, Zimmermann, 27; Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 53–5. 135 Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 60. See also p. 99. 136 Rupprecht, Die Bayerische Rokoko-Kirche, 7, 12–13. See also Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 63, 151–2. 137 Pavel Preiss, Der Bömische Barockmaler W.L. Reiner (Salzburg 1984): 34–5. For more on Wenzel Lorenz Reiner (1683–1743) see Hempel, Baroque Art and Architecture, 137; Vít Vlnas, Mannerst and Baroque in Bohemia (Prague, 2005): 122–4; Blažíček, Oldřich J. Umĕní Baroku v Čechách (Prague, 1967): 116–17. 138 Hans Belting, Likeness and Presence: A History of the Image before the Era of Art (Chicago and London, 1994): 470–78; Marcia Hall, The Sacred Image in the Age of Art (New Haven and London, 2011): 8–15; 41–63. 139 Irmscher insists that such intrusions are rare yet he lists more than 25 instances of what he calls Stucco-finto-Rocaillen in Southern Germany and Austria, with references to even more in the Czech lands and Hungary, mostly dating from the second half of the century [Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 372–406]. See also Hitchcock, Rococo Architecture, 6; Harries, “The Bavarian Rococo Church,” 64–5. 140 On Joseph Schmuzer, see Goldner and Bahnmuller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule, 8; Vollmer, Schmuzer, 10–13; 15–17; Bauer and von der Mülbe, Barocke Deckenmalerei, 14. 141 Vollmer, Schmuzer, 17–21; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 375; Jocher, “Matthäus Günther,” 159–66. 142 Lieb, Barockkirchen, 139; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 375, 378, fig 54. On the Haimhausen commission see Epple and Straßer, Bergmüller, 25, 192–3; Bauer and von der Mühle, Barocke Deckenmalerei, 134–5, 186–7. For the iconography of the Wiblingen ceiling see Frank Büttner, “Ikonographie des Bibliothekssaals in der ehemaligen Benediktinerabtei Wiblingen” in Martin Mádl et al., eds, Baroque Ceiling Painting in Central Europe (Prague, 2007): 117–30. 143 Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 392–406. On the Vilnius churches, see: Klajumienė, XVIII a. Sienų Tapyba, figs 15, 46–7, 66, 102; Mindaugas Paknys, Lieutovos Didžiosios Kunigaikštijos dailės ir architektūros istorija (Vilnius, 2009): 100–101.

“Bright Shining as the Stars” 175

144 Nanette and Raimund Kolb, Franz Joseph Spiegler: Kostbarkeiten barocker Malerei 1691–1757 (Passau, 1991): 16–17, 90; Hubert Krins, Barock in Süddeutschland (Stuttgart, 2001): 28; Lieb, Barockkirchen, 72–81; Hempel, Baroque Art and Architecture, 246–7; Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 114. 145 Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 374. 146 Jennifer Milam, “Playful Constructions and Fragonard’s Swinging Scenes,” in Eighteenth-Century Studies, 33, 4 (Summer 2000): 552. 147 Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 254. 148 Alistair Laing writes of one sketch of a nave interior that it “could be applied to the standard aisle-less Rococo parish church anywhere” [Alastair Laing, “German Drawings,” in Drawings for Architecture, Design and Ornament: The James A. De Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor (Aylesbury, 2006) II, 641 (cat. 483)]. 149 Yonan, “Wieskirche,”5. See also Rupprect, Die bayerische Rokoko-Kirche, 55–6. 150 Lieb, Barockkirchen, figs 12–13, 18–19, 36–7; Werner Hager, Die Bauten des Deutschen Barocks (Jena, 1942): fig 189; Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 150–53. 151 Rupprect, Die bayerische Rokoko-Kirche, 55–6; Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 4, 225. See also Sedlmayr and Bauer, “Rococo,” 268. 152 Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 101. 153 Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 369. Philippe Minguet—he had his own vision of a perfect Rococo interior—reluctantly acknowledged that such models did not apply to Rococo renovations of pre-existing structures [Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 156]. 154 Vollmer, Schmuzer, 16. 155 Claus Detjen, Arlesheim Cathedral (Regensburg, 2000): 6, 10. 156 Bauer, Rocaille, 46–7; see also Yonan, “Ornament’s Invitation,” 296; Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings,” 120. 157 Mundt, The Rocaille, 505. 158 Sedlmayr, “The Synthesis of the Arts in Rococo,” in The Age of Rococo (Munich, 1958): 28. 159 Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 17. Harries uses the same term in a discussion of an engraving of Johann Esaias Nilson entitled Neues Caffeehaus “One thinks of an octopus that has found its prey: rocaille here seems to attack the very modest architecture of the house …” [Harries, The Broken Frame, 77]. 160 Harries calls this “the pictorialization of ornament” [Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 21]. See also Harries, The Broken Frame, 76–7, and Sedlmayr, “The Synthesis of the Arts in Rococo,” 27. 161 Cesare Ripa, Iconologia (Piero Buscarioli, ed., Milan, 1992): 50. 162 Mary Vidal, Watteau’s Painted Conversations (New Haven and London, 1992): 126–7. On illusion and reality in the work of Feichtmayr see Loers, Rokokoplastik, 49–50. 163 Schoenberger, Ignaz Günther, 41; Hertel, Pygmalion, 175–6. Hertel calls this statue “somewhat phallic.” I neither agree nor see the point of her comment. 164 For an excellent discussion of the Composition of Place and its role in Central Europe in the seventeenth century see Jeffrey Chipps Smith, Sensuous Worship: Jesuits and the Art of the Early Catholic Reformation in Germany (Princeton and Oxford, 2002): 29–41. 165 Yonan, “Ornament’s Invitation;” Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 405. 166 Vollmer, Franz Xaver Schmuzer, 36–9; fig. 49. 167 Mundt referred to the “bridge leading to the realm of pictorial illusion” and Yonan remarks that stucco cartouches serve as a kind of zone of transition “away from human experience toward a spiritual fulfillment” [Mundt, “The Rocaille,” 504; Yonan, “Ornament’s Invitation,” 301]. 168 Krull, Zimmermann, 23. Thon writes “Hier handelt es sich um typische Werke Dominikus Zimmermanns, in denen sich die Autonomie des Rocailleornaments in änlicher Weise ausprägt wie in den Augsburger Stichen” [Thon, Habermann, 207]. 169 Bauer, Zimmermann, 256–8. 170 Mary Sheriff, Fragonard: Art and Eroticism (Chicago, 1990): 116.

176 The Spiritual Rococo

171 Bernhard Schütz, Wallfahrtskirche Basilika Vierzehnheiligen (Regensburg, 2005); Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 381; Hempel, Baroque Art and Architecture, 252–4. 172 Irmscher calls it an “überdimensionierten, monumentalen freiplastischen Rocailleaufbau” [Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 381, fig. 25]. 173 Schütz, Wallfahrtskirche Basilika Vierzehnheiligen, 29. 174 Carl Lamb, Die Wies (Munich, 1964); Yonan, “Wieskirche,” 3–4, 14–15; Bauer, Zimmermann, 58–63, 230–46; Irmscher, “Style Rocaille,” 375–6; Minguet, Esthétique du rococo, 151; Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, 121; Bauer and von der Mülbe, Deckenmalerei, 230–46; Michael Petzet, ed., Die Wies: Geschichte und Restaurierung (Munich, 1992). 175 See Hermann Bauer, “Zur Bedeutung der Wieskirche,” in Petzet, Die Wies, 73–80; Lamb, Die Wies, 49; Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 155. 176 Yonan “Wieskirche,” 4, 16. 177 Volk, Rokokoplastik, 11; Bauer and von der Mülbe, Deckenmalerei, 238. 178 Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 243. 179 Otto Beck, Wallfahrtskirche Steinhausen (Regensburg, 2004): 23; Otto Beck, Pfarr- und Wallfahrtskirche Maria-Thann (Regensburg, 1995): 7; Ingeborg Maria Buck, Katholische Pfarr- und Wallfahrtskirche Maria Steinbach (Lindenberg, 1998): 8–10; Lieb, Barockkirchen, pl. 142. 180 Bauer and von der Mülbe, Deckenmalerei, 29, 146–7; Yonan, “Wieskirche,” 12. 181 Forster, Catholic Revival, 93. See also pp 67, 72. See also: Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints, 209–10; Yonan “Wieskirche,” 8. 182 Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints, 1–2, 217; Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 181. For a study of Baroque prints of Bavarian pilgrimage images, see Bleibrunner, Andachtsbilder. 183 Hermann Drexel, “Das Votivbild as Massenware,” in Inge Praxmarer and Hermann Drexel, eds, “Als ich in shwerer angst gestanden” Votivbilder aus Tirol (Innsbruck and Vienna, 1998): 46–7. 184 Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 181. 185 Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria, 176. 186 Forster, Catholic Revival, 61, 74, 84, 91; Rudolf Gut and Kurt Lussi, Quellen der Kraft: die Wallfahrtskapellen von Ruswil (Lindenberg, 2002): 5–7; Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 180; Drexel, “Das Votivbild as Massenware,” 46–7. 187 Moser-Rath, Kirchenvolk, 180; Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints, 231–2. 188 Harries, The Bavarian Rococo Church, 184–9. 189 For most people in post-Counter-Reformation era “the holy had become once again something that could be viewed close at hand in the countryside” [Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints, 13]. 190 Forster, Catholic Revival, 64; Soergel, Wondrous in His Saints, 3, 21, 231–2. On Lithuanian wayside sculpture see: Marcelijus Martinaitis, “Lithuania’s Epic in Wood,” in Marcelijus Martinaitis, The Old Lithuanian Sculpture (Vilnius, 1994): 24. For a splendid collection of photographs of Lithuanian wayside sculpture see: Elvyra Spudytė, Tradicinė žemaičių skulptūra (Vilnius, 2008). 191 The work is mentioned briefly in Volk, Rokokoplastik, 6–7; and Bauer and Bauer, Klöster in Bayern, 41, 44. On Dießen, see also Wilhelm Theodor Auer, Die Klosterpfarrkirche zu Dießen am Ammersee (Dießen, 1964); Werner Schnell, Marienmünster Dießen: ehemalige Augustiner-Chorherrenkirche (Passau, 2005). 192 Augustin Fastl, Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, das ist: Kirchweyh- Lob- und Jubel-Predig. Die neue Marianische Stüfft-Kirchen, 7, 9. For the reference to the torrential rainstorm that greeted the procession to the church, see p. 4. On page 8 he repeats: “Wo in Marianische Kirchen ist, alldort hat die Göttliche Jungfrau ihre Burg, ihren Hof, ihren Himmel … Nun aber weilen dises so gar kein neue, kein besondere, kein ausnemmende Prob ist, das dises gegenwärtige Münster ein Himmel seye, welcher Ehren-Titul allen anderen Kirchen kan beygeleget warden ….” 193 Fastl, Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, 15. 194 Fastl, Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, 15. 195 Fastl, Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, 31. 196 Fastl, Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, 18, 33.

4 “Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste”:1 Spiritual Rococo in Portugal and Brazil

In Europe only Portugal rivaled Central Europe in its enthusiasm for Rococo church décor, and it transmitted that predilection directly to Brazil, its most flourishing colony and one with which it enjoyed a more intimate artistic interaction than did Spain with its own American colonies. However Portugal’s relationship with Rococo was very different from that of Central Europe. It had in common with Bavaria a close rapport with Parisian Rococo at an early phase—like Max Emanuel and his successors the Lisbon court was almost obsessive in its desire to be kept up-to-date, via agents and diplomats, with French visual culture—and it embraced Germanic Rococo directly via Augsburg prints, particularly outside court circles and in the north. As in Central Europe its church interiors also frequently combined Italianate illusionistic ceiling paintings with Rococo décor—in fact their designs were often adapted from Germanic models. But in its religious architecture Portugal grafted the French and German branches of Rococo onto vigorous indigenous architectural stock so that while the style dominated in a way it did not in Spain the basic structures and characteristics, particularly the retablo altarpiece (in Portuguese, retábulo), the Capela-Mor (rectangular apse chapel), the preference for gilded wood carving (talha) over stucco, the prevalence of the Solomonic (twisted) column, the box-like, rectilinear church plan, and the tight organization of motifs and strict divisions between zones did not change. Even at its most exuberant Portuguese Rococo décor never acquired the spatial dimension or self-consciousness of its Germanic counterpart and although it served as a link between interior zones it never sought to blur the distinction between frame and framed or to interfere with architectural structure, narrative or iconography. Even ceiling paintings only rarely interacted with the surrounding decorative woodwork. Luso-Brazilian Rococo churches are also among the most heavily decorated on their exteriors—in places like central Europe Rococo décor only existed in secular architecture, as with the famed Fassadenmalerei (house façade murals) of southern Bavaria—so that their façades were overwhelmed by bulky and dynamic stone decorative carving, enlivening doorways, windows, and pediments to the extent that as

178 The Spiritual Rococo

Myriam Ribeiro noted, “the aesthetic reading of a Luso-Brazilian religious Rococo church is therefore made from inside out.”2 However Brazil developed a style of décor quite distinct from the heavy, gilded Rococo of Portugal. As in the churches of Central Europe Brazilian church Rococo used subtle golden accents, soft colors, and structural lightness that better reflected the new optimistic Christianity being preached from its pulpits, and they took tentative steps toward the kind of spatial relationships that characterized the work of Dominikus Zimmermann, particularly in the mining region of Minas Gerais where curvilinear plans appeared with some regularity in the second half of the eighteenth century. Brazil was also unusual in that designers frequently used French domestic Rococo as their models, so that some church interiors looked like oversized Paris salons. This love for profane Rococo in churches may in part have been a product of their patronage. Brazilian church building was indebted to an unusual degree to lay religious groups such as confraternities or Third Order brotherhoods (irmandades): in fact in Minas Gerais, arguably the most distinguished center for Rococo design, they were the only church patrons after the Crown forbade religious orders from the region in 1711—even the parish churches depended on the patronage of confraternities.3 The role of churches as a place for lay social display was intensified by another law, the 1749 Leis Pragmáticas ou Extravagantes, which prohibited Brazilians from displaying wealth in their homes, carriages, or even clothing, but allowed them to lavish their wealth on churches.4 Throughout Brazil lay religious organizations strengthened communal identity through gifts to local church construction and decoration, and they championed the Rococo, I contend, because it was deemed not only cutting-edge but also less associated with colonial church hierarchy. These were the main reasons Rococo lasted so long in Brazil. Political and natural events had a different fate in store for Rococo in Portugal. In the wake of the devastating 1755 earthquake, which killed nearly 15,000 people during Mass on All Saints Day and strengthened the hand of secularism throughout the world—most famously inspiring Voltaire’s anti-Christian Poème sur le désastre de Lisbonne (1756) and Candide (1759) with its satire of the very optimism promoted by the Spiritual Rococo—Portugal embraced a dour Neoclassicism promulgated by the reformist Marquis of Pombal, King José I’s autocratic minister from 1750 to 1777.5

Spiritual Rococo, the Portuguese Salon, and the Luso-Brazilian Enlightenment The Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason made early inroads into Portugal and Brazil, particularly the work of Jean-Baptiste Morvan de Bellegarde, Nicolas-Sylvestre Bergier, François Bretonneau, Louis-Antoine Caraccioli, Jean Croiset, François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon, Nicholas Malebranche, Jean-Baptiste Massillon, and Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet, which

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 179

were collected in great numbers both in the original French and in Portuguese translations. Libraries like that of Cardinal Archbishop João Cosme da Cunha of Évora in Portugal (in office 1760–1783), Bishop Frei Domingos da Encarnação Pontenevel of Mariana in Minas Gerais (1779–1793), or the Augustinian Canons Regular of the Convento de Santa Cruz in Coimbra (Portugal)—not to mention the Royal collection in Lisbon—were particularly flush with late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century French treatises and sermons.6 During the seventeenth century Luso-Brazilian preaching had been dominated by the Brazilian Jesuit António Vieira (1608–1697) whose disorganized and circuitous sermons are packed with references to the miraculous and an apocalyptic view of the world where the ills of the present will be assuaged by an imminent epoch of compassion and peace.7 But by the mid-eighteenth century the more methodical and poised French manner of preaching (“pregar à francesa”) began to take root in Portugal and Brazil alike, especially through the efforts of the Oratorians, who also spearheaded the introduction of rationalist philosophy and scientific method into Portugal.8 The Benedictines—their headquarters at Tibães (Fig. 4.4) was the most important monument of Portuguese ecclesiastical Rococo—were already enthusiastic advocates of the latest French theology and philosophy by the 1740s.9 The earliest published sermon in the French manner was a homily on Christ’s Passion given in Lisbon in 1738 by the Jesuit Inácio Rodrigues (1700–after 1758), the brother of King Dom João V’s private secretary, and in 1739 Frei Jacinto de São Miguel published a translation of a French treatise called Arte de pregar, which focused on reason and eloquence—yet he never expressly identified the style as French.10 Another early enthusiast for the French manner was José Pegado da Silva e Azevedo (1729–1754): in a 1750 homily about Saint Anthony he departed from the usual litany of miracle stories to characterize the saint as a great preacher who converted heretics through clear and reasoned arguments. By 1759 Frei Manuel de Epifania (1712–1768) did not hesitate to identify the French style of his True Method of Preaching (Verdadeiro método de pregar) in which he opposed the “common method of the nation” (namely, Portugal), with “a natural eloquence … which persuades and charms the most,” (the French method) and Portuguese and Brazilian ecclesiastics purchased copies of books like Pons-Augustin Alletz’s L’Art de toucher le coeur dans le ministère de la chaire (Lyon, 1783), a book on enflaming the emotions of congregations, which promised to provide the secrets of “les plus pathétiques” of the celebrated preachers of the century.11 Language also began to change as the Hispanic world in general embraced the French culture of hônneteté and sensibility, and this intimate manner of address and “highly affectionate language” was reflected in the pulpit.12 Preaching played an especially crucial role in Brazil, where the Crown’s suppression of institutions of higher learning in the colony contributed to widespread illiteracy.13 Brazilians attended sermons as a substitute for reading, and in larger centers the church became the main forum for the exchange of ideas and later on a key source of nationalist sentiment. Church services were also

180 The Spiritual Rococo

the only place Brazilian women were able to congregate in public, so that churches became “less a place of prayer than a center for family and social get-togethers,” a role I believe was largely responsible for the popularity of French domestic décor in these sacred spaces.14 Portugal also produced one of the most important writers of the Spiritual Rococo, the toast of salons from Paris—where he lived many years in exile until his return to Portugal in 1777—to Warsaw. The Oratorian priest Teodoro de Almeida (1722–1804) combined the celebration of joy, sensuality, and pastoralism of a Charles-Joseph Trublet or Caraccioli with the logical Enlightenment-inspired spirituality of Claude Buffier or Bergier.15 In fact in the seventh volume of his encyclopedic work on philosophy, Recreação Filosófica (1751-1800), he openly praised the work of fellow Oratorian Massillon and other French orators for the superiority of their style, which he called the “modo de pregar francês,” preferring it to that of Vieira because of its alignment with good literary taste.16 Elsewhere he wrote about Fénelon: “I take for my model the Great Archbishop of Cambrai in his Télémaque, and other works in this genre, in which with the sweetness of the enchanting nectar of poetry, he provides the most salutary maxims for behavior.”17 The most popular preacher in Portugal from the 1740s, Almeida also had impeccable credentials as a natural scientist and philosopher, and wrote a prodigious number of scientific treatises in which he typically combined religion with natural philosophy. Particularly devoted to Francis de Sales, Almeida promoted the idea of spiritual happiness, in particular exhorting his readers to find felicity and inner peace through retreats to the countryside, using imagery that recalls fête galante painting. In fact the engravings accompanying his epic novel O feliz independente do mundo e da fortuna ou arte de viver contente em quaesquer trabalhos da vida (The Happy Man, Free of the World and of Fortune, or the Art of Living Contentedly with Any of Life’s Difficulties, 1779), feature fashionable young people in Watteau-like rustic glades.18 In O feliz independente do mundo Almeida chose fiction because it was a “more agreeable” genre than the treatise and would reach a wider literary audience, particularly women.19 Like Massillon or Trublet he sugared the pill by dressing up his teachings in aristocratic language: “I observed that many holy prelates of the church, driven by [the same] purpose as I, offered as a gift to inattentive gentlemen, among other gifts, golden crucifixes well and delicately made; the holy men hoping that the preciousness of the material, and the delicacy of the sculpture, would capture their attention, and their eyes … I would like to … disguis[e] the austerity of the teachings of the Gospels with beauty, and the flowers of the light of Reason, and Poetry.”20 The main character of O feliz independente, the exiled King Vladislau of Poland who abdicates and takes on the identity of the hermit shepherd Missena, becomes a metaphor for spiritual retreat as a way of conquering passion and desire with tranquility and sweetness—a spiritual version of Rousseau’s call to seek the natural self by returning to the countryside.21 A kind of Rococo guru, Missena teaches his followers to find happiness through meditation

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 181

upon Holy Scripture and trust in Divine Providence.22 Almeida’s philosophy is particularly close to that of the marquise de Lambert or Mme. Aubert in his insistence on the necessity of community in the achievement of happiness, as he comments in one of Missena’s soliloquys: “I say that if in my happy state I can serve you, this would augment incredibly my great happiness and felicity: since it consoles much a man the ability to make another man happy.”23 Almeida applies reason to his arguments, although like his German counterparts Columban Rösser or Jakob Danzer he warns that reason alone cannot explain the incomprehensibility of God’s designs.24 It is as a scientist that Almeida teaches, again through the voice of Missena, that: “I also respect [good Reason] and venerate it … [but] the mysterious encounter with the Holy Scriptures … is what illustrates good Reason.”25 Almeida’s novel Christianizes the philosophy of some of the most polemical belletrists of the previous century such as René Descartes (1596–1650), Sir Isaac Newton (1643–1727), Pierre Gassendi (1592–1655), and John Locke (1632–1704).26 The work also has relevance for the visual arts, as verisimilitude and beauty are major themes throughout, as when he uses the metaphor of a painting to explain his ideas about happiness: “This painting of Happiness, which can only be obtained through Virtue, is worth my placing before your eyes—and up very close—so that you will believe in its existence and not regard it as a pure figment of the imagination.”27 Elsewhere one of his characters muses on a series of paintings of the Four Seasons and Four Ages of Mankind to demonstrate that people are not predestined to be sad or happy but have a choice in their destiny.28 Almeida was especially popular with women. In the second half of the eighteenth century a women-run salon culture flourished in Portugal, departing from more traditional social mores in which women of the aristocracy and high bourgeoisie were confined to the family home and only left—always accompanied—to attend church services and visit family members.29 The most celebrated Lisbon salonnière was Dona Mariana de Arriaga (1748–1820), a woman of letters and favorite of Queen Maria I (1734–1816).30 Like Mme. Geoffrin Dona Mariana advocated for women’s education and in 1782 helped Teodoro d’Almeida found the first female college in Lisbon, the Colégio da Visitação of the order of Saint Francis of Sales.31 Another salonnière went on to become Portugal’s leading woman of letters: Leonor de Almeida (1750–1806) is still a familiar figure among historians of literature, although her voluminous writings were not published until after her death through her daughters’ efforts.32 In fact a substantial body of work by women writers developed out of these salons, called assambleias, which, like their Parisian counterparts, met regularly on certain days of the week and involved readings, musical performances, and intellectual debate, usually around a light lunch.33 Famous salonnières of the 1770s, who hosted the greatest intellectuals of the day, also included Teresa de Mello Breyner, countess of Vimieiro (1739–after 1790) and Joana Isabel Forjaz de Lencastre (b. 1745), and they were succeeded in the 1780s by Catarina Micaela de Lencastre (1749–1824), Viscountess of Balsemão and the wife of the Minister of State.

182 The Spiritual Rococo

A culture of Enlightenment intellectualism also thrived in Brazil, particularly in Minas Gerais, where a flourishing and refined middle class produced some of South America’s greatest poets, writers, and thinkers— not coincidentally this literary climate also led to its earliest independence movement, the Inconfidência Mineira (literally “No Confidence,” 1788–1789). As one of the richest, most urban, and most populous regions of Brazil, Minas provided fertile ground for this so-called “Escola Mineira,” the intellectual life of its large hill towns centering upon the town hall and lay religious organizations.34 For decades the leading families of Minas sent their sons to European universities, particularly the University of Coimbra—where nearly half the Brazilian students came from Minas Gerais in the late 1780s. Such were the famed poet lawyers Cláudio Manuel da Costa (1729–1789), Tomás Antônio Gonzaga (1744–1810), and Inácio José de Alvarenga Peixoto (1744– 1793), like so many of these men implicated in the revolt either executed or sent into exile in Angola and Mozambique. Despite their enlightenment leanings many had close ties with the church: Costa was educated at the Jesuit college in Rio, had a brother who was a Franciscan friar, and belonged to the prestigious confraternity of the Third Order of Saint Francis for which he served as its solicitor—in fact Costa is credited with commissioning Antônio Francisco Lisboa (1730/38–1814; popularly known as Aleijadinho) to execute one of the most celebrated works of Rococo religious décor in Brazil, the renovations of church of São Francisco in Vila Rica (now Ouro Preto, Figs 4.22–4, 4.28, 4.29, Plate 11), and some scholars even believe he invented the iconographic scheme or even contributed to the design of its façade.35 Minas Gerais was home to several private (all-male) salons, where writers, poets, and politicians would gather to talk, hear recitations, and play cards. Cláudio Manuel da Costa’s lavishly appointed house in Vila Rica was one of the principal meeting places for the local literati: his guests included Gonzaga, Peixoto, and government officials and churchmen such as Intendente Francisco Gregório Pires Monteiro Bandeira (in office 1780s), Contratador João Rodrigues de Macedo (1775–1807), Carlos Correia de Toledo e Melo (1731–1803) parish priest of São José in Rio das Mortes, and the preacher Luís Vieira da Silva (1735–1809), canon of Mariana Cathedral.36 Father Manuel Rodrigues da Costa (1754–1844) also held gatherings in his country seat on the royal highway near Barbacena and a literary circle met in São João delRei, the town the rebels chose as their new capital and the location of one of the two most important Rococo churches in Minas Gerais (Figs 4.25–7, 4.30, Plate 12). This activity came to an abrupt end with the events of 1789— indeed we know about these men’s libraries because they were confiscated by government officials. Their libraries were extraordinary for colonial South America, with books in multiple languages, particularly French, and including some of the most radical Enlightenment writers as well as earlier philosophical or scientific tracts. Vieira da Silva possessed 266 titles in 569 volumes in 1789 with works by JeanJacques Rousseau, Voltaire, Gabriel Bonnot de Mably (1709–1785), Guillaume Thomas Raynal (1713–1796), Étienne Bonnot de Condillac (1714–1780),

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 183

a complete Diderot and d’Alembert Encyclopédie (1751–1782), Descartes, the baron de Montesquieu, and an impressive collection of treatises on natural history and medicine, and the lawyer José Pereira Ribeiro (1758–1812) owned 201 works in 486 volumes according to a 1798 inventory, including works by Mably, Voltaire, d’Alembert, Rousseau, Raynal, and others.37 Other important libraries were those of Correia Toledo and Rodrigues da Costa, both arrested after the Inconfidência affair, and those of the late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century intellectuals José Resende da Costa father (1728–1798) and son (1766–1841) and Baptista Caetano de Almeida (1797–1839), who brought enthusiasm for “advanced ‘Frenchified’ ideas” into the nineteenth century: they owned works by Montesquieu, Rousseau, Raynal, Mably, Condorcet, Voltaire, Alexander Pope, the Baron d’Holbach’s La morale universelle ou les devoirs de l’homme fondés sur la Nature, Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations, Diderot and d’Alembert’s Encyclopédie and several books on French history.38 The cathedral town of Mariana was home to two other important libraries, that of Frei Domingos da Encarnação Pontenevel, the city’s bishop between 1779 and 1793—it boasted 412 titles in 1,066 volumes—and the cathedral library, although these focused less on mainstream Enlightenment philosophers and more on French spiritual literature, including several of the sermons and treaties of the Spiritual Rococo (Bossuet, Bretonneau, Henri Griffet, Massillon, Charles Frey de Neuville, and Trublet).39 Bishop at the time of the revolt Pontenevel kept silent about his political leanings, although he was a particularly energetic preacher as well as an important patron of architecture, hiring architect José Pereira Arouca (1733–1795) to work on the Cathedral, the Seminary park, and Bishop’s palace, and possibly commissioning Antônio Francisco Lisboa to carve the Rococo Bishop’s throne and other furnishings.40

Enter the Rococo: Paris and Augsburg Prints in Portugal and Brazil As in Bavaria, Rococo’s arrival in Portugal was partly facilitated by a single ruler in thrall to the French court, King Dom João V (1689–1750), one of the most extravagant architectural patrons of early Modern Europe thanks to the royal fifth the crown took from the 500 tons of Brazilian gold—not to mention diamonds—that reached Lisbon during his reign, and whose gargantuan palace-monastery at Mafra (begun 1717) rivaled Versailles or the Spanish Escorial in size and pretention.41 But unlike Max Emanuel Dom João was equally interested in the arts of Italy and Holland. Prevented from making the European Grand Tour for health reasons, João compensated by bringing Europe to him, importing artists, architects, scientists, sculptures, paintings, prints, manuscripts, and books from the furthest reaches of the continent through his ambassadors to Paris, London, Amsterdam, and Rome and a network of agents and art dealers.42 Sometimes he brought entire buildings, as with the chapel of St. John the Baptist commissioned in 1744 from leading Roman architects Luigi Vanvitelli (1700–1773) and Nicola Salvi (1697–1751),

184 The Spiritual Rococo

which he placed in the Jesuit church of São Roque.43 In architecture, sculpture, and religious paintings his taste ran to the Italian late Baroque as demonstrated at Mafra, built under the direction of his favored architect the Italian-trained Bavarian Johann Friedrich Ludwig (known as João Frederico Ludovice, 1763–1752) and housing 58 imported Italian statues and later a sculpture workshop run by sculptor Alessandro Giusti (1750–1799).44 By contrast he turned to France for his engravers, decorators, and painters of profane subjects—people like Pierre-Antoine Quillard (1701–1773), a follower of Antoine Watteau who reached Portugal in 1726 and specialized in fêtes galantes surrounded by rocaille frames—and most notably Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, as noted in Chapter 2.45 Nearly all of the décor, paintings, and other artworks and furnishings in the Paço da Ribeira (royal palace) were obliterated by the 1755 earthquake that razed the building. The Paço da Ribeira was a disorganized aggregation of buildings and an embarrassment to a king seeking to modernize along the lines of the French court.46 In his campaign to update the palace interior the king called upon agents, principally D. Luís da Cunha (1662–1749), art collector and ambassador in Paris in 1701–1704, 1721–1725, and 1737–1749 who employed Meissonnier in 1728 as his artistic advisor to the Portuguese court; the financier Pierre Crozat (1665–1740); the publisher Jean Mariette; and the antiquarian and art collector the comte de Caylus (1692–1740), artistic advisor to the duc d’Orléans.47 Although most of the rooms—supervised by Ludwig after 1712— were in the Italian style and others featured more traditionally Portuguese decoration with blue tile wainscoting, João V turned to the French for tapestries, furnishings, and boiseries.48 The most important Rococo apartments were the new Queen’s quarters, featuring a 1731–1734 Hall of Mirrors with at least one mirror by Meissonnier and the adjacent apartments of the prince of Brazil (later José I), one of which was also designed by Meissonnier who published two asymmetrical mirror treatments “fait pour le Portugal” as plates 92 and 93 in his Livre d’ornemens (1734) (Fig. 4.1).49 The Queen’s apartments featured ceilings by Quillard (1731), possibly of pastoral landscapes “framed with the rocaille scrolls and ornament.”50 Meissonnier also worked on João V’s throne room, including corrections made to designs for a series of tapestries (now lost) from Antwerp and a silver gilt throne from 1728–1730 with rocailles framing the back which exists only in drawings.51 Gilles-Marie Oppenord and Rococo silversmiths Thomas Germain (1673–1748) and François-Thomas Germain (1726–1791) also contributed to the Portuguese court, the former at Crozat’s instigation—impressed by his work at Saint-Sulpice he recommended Oppenord in 1727 for “the apartments, galleries, and above all the grand salon which will be built in the Royal Palace on his designs and supervision”—and the latter by da Cunha.52 Although as at Saint-Sulpice Oppenord was soon passed over in favor of Meissonnier—he did design a pair of pendulum clocks for the King—the Germains, working out of their Louvre studio, enjoyed long service for the King, producing over 3,000 objects for the Portuguese court.

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 185

4.1 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Developement d’un Trumeau de glace pour un grand cabinet fait pour le Portugal, from Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1734). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-337. F.G. Waller-Fonds

The most purely Rococo of the royal commissions was the pleasure palace of Queluz, outside Lisbon, which the Infante Dom Pedro, future Dom Pedro III, converted from a former hunting lodge between 1747 and 1786.53 Salmon pink and edged in intricately carved pedra lioz limestone, this lopsided accretion of enfilades, two-story pavilions, and single-story wings nestles against the north and east sides of a pair of fountain parterres, its back turned toward the entrance and its main façade facing the gardens. The most important building campaign was that of 1758, when the future king hired the French silversmith

186 The Spiritual Rococo

4.2 Jean-Baptiste Robillon, garden grotto, or cascata (detail), Queluz Palace, Portugal, completed after 1758. Photo: Author

Jean-Baptiste Robillon (1704–1782), an assistant of Germain, to design two new wings of the palace and adorn them, the garden façade (1764–1767), and a plethora of follies and sculptural fantasies with carved ornament, finials, and sculptures. The ornament reaches its apogee in the crown of the grotto, or cascata, a grotesque mask emerging like a cabbage from a halo of jagged-edged shells and leaves (Fig. 4.2). Heavier and more fantastic than French Rococo it reflects Robillon’s training as a silversmith, as scholars have long noted.54 The palace interiors are more reticent, such as Robillon’s mirrored throne room (1768–1774) with its gilded paneling over white walls and gently scalloped coving, which recalls the interiors of the Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna—such as the Grand Gallery from 1743, itself a hall of mirrors—more closely than French interiors. Particularly intriguing is the oval chapel (1747–1752), designed by the palace’s principal architect Mateus Vicente de Oliveira (1706–1786) and adorned by wood carver Silvestre de Faria Lobo (1725–1786), as it is the only extant Rococo sacred interior related to the royal court, fusing the Italian late Baroque aesthetic of the public churches of João V with French Rococo paneling, which harmonizes with that of the rest of the palace (Fig. 4.3).55 Divided into panels like a domestic interior but here painted in darker marbleized colors in the Italian taste it is stately and unobtrusive, its thin Rococo gilded frames separating the wall panels and delicate arabesques and rocailles adorning the tops of the doorways, oculus windows, altarpieces,

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 187

the section over the pulpit, and the medallions and painted panels of the ceiling. The interior’s Franco-Italian character is enhanced by the lack of retábulos, replaced by altarpieces in oil on canvas enclosed in gilded frames. Inspired by a desire to possess copies of the complete works of Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640) João V amassed one of the world’s largest print collections between 1724 and 1750. On 12 July 1724 he instructed his ambassadors in London, Paris, Rome, The Hague, and Madrid to obtain one impression of all the prints that had been made in those countries in the past 30 years, and in early 1725 he extended his order to include “all the engravings that can be found since the time when they were invented.”56 Two years later his collection included over a hundred Baroque and Rococo French art prints assembled, under da Cunha’s guidance, with the help of Jean and especially Pierre-Jean (1694–1774) Mariette, Premier Ingénieur du Roi Robert-Alexandre d’Hermand (1660–1739), and one time Géographe du Roi Jean-Baptiste Bourguignon d’Anville (1697–1782).57 However the collection included few ornamental prints, mostly Regency arabesques and grotesques by Jean Bérain (1637–1711; Fig. 2.6), Pierre Lepautre (1648–1716), and Gérard Jean-Baptiste Scotin (1671–1716), whose influence can be seen in the engravings of French émigré François-Laurent Debrie (active in Portugal 1728–1755), who came to Portugal along with Pierre de Rochefort (active in Portugal ca. 1740) as part of a team hired by João V to illustrate works for the Royal Academy of History.58 These engravings may also have been the source of the Regency details that appeared in Lisbon as early as the late 1720s in everything from royal coaches to retablos—notably in the work of Mestre de São Francisco (fl. 1735–1745) in churches like Nossa Senhora das Mercês—and the Regency style enjoyed an extraordinarily long life in Portugal, into the 1750s.59

4.3 Mateus Vicente de Oliveira and Silvestre de Faria Lobo, chapel, Queluz Palace, 1747–1752. Photo by Robert Chester Smith, courtesy Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon

188 The Spiritual Rococo

By contrast vast numbers of Rococo ornamental prints reached Portugal outside court circles, primarily at the hands of ecclesiastical collectors in Lisbon and especially Porto and Braga. In a comprehensive survey of extant collections throughout Portugal Marie-Thérèse Mandroux-França demonstrates that Augsburg prints were generally the earliest to arrive and that by contrast the major French ornemenistes were poorly represented. For example only Oppenord’s Borromini-inspired schemes turn up and not his Rococo volumes (the Petit, Moyen, and Grand Oppenord, published by Gabriel Huquier between 1744 and 1748), and works by Meissonnier are almost non-existent, despite his direct involvement in the renovations of the Paço da Ribeira. Jacques de Lajoüe, Nicolas Pineau, and François Boucher fare better, but like many of the French designers of the genre pittoresque in Portuguese collections their work is only represented through mid-century German reprints.60 In the Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga I have also found several sheets of Babel cartouches—although published in Augsburg by Johann Georg Hertel—as well as furniture designs by the Queen’s clockmaker Jacques Nicolas Baillon (Livre de meuble, 1725), models for Rococo pulpits, altarpieces, other furnishings, and genre pittoresque interior decorative schemes by F. Cornille (fl. 1740–1756), trophées by Jean-Charles Delafosse (1734–1791), a single title-page by Jean Mondon (Quatrième livre de forms ornées de rocailles, cartels, figures, oyseaux et dragons, 1736) engraved by Pierre Aveline, and several Chinoiserie cartouches and figures by Alexis Peyrotte and Jean Pillement.61 Most of these belonged to the Academia Real de Belas Artes in Lisbon, which was only founded in 1836, but they almost certainly came from eighteenthcentury collections. Nevertheless the Germanic models were by far the most popular and widespread: Mandroux-França counted almost 500 Augsburg sheets of rocailles and Rococo furniture models, including 60 from Hertel alone.62 Franz Xaver Habermann was the most fashionable designer, with 34 folios published by Hertel and five by Martin Engelbrecht, and there are also folios by Gottfried Bernhard Goez, Johann Esaias Nilson, Johann Wolfgang Baumgartner, Johann Andreas Stockmann, and Jeremias Wachsmuth as well as 30 lesser-known Augsburg designers, primarily of rocaille motifs.63 These prints include models for altarpieces, pulpits, and other church furnishings, primarily by Habermann (Hertel folios 119, 137, 164, 165), Wachsmuth (Hertel folio 122), and Eichel (Hertel folio 78). There are also countless devotional prints in rocaille frames by Joseph (1710–1768) and Johann-Baptist Klauber (1712–ca. 1787) and similar designers—around 6,000 in the Biblioteca Nacional in Lisbon alone— which were valued as models for Portuguese holy cards (Registos dos Santos) by Debrie and others sold to pilgrims after around 1750 as a source of revenue for abbeys and confraternities.64 Rocaille motifs from Registros were also used in narrative cycles of azuleijo tile wainscoting, a critical means for disseminating Rococo throughout the Luso-Portuguese world.65 The largest collection of Rococo prints belonged to the Benedictine abbey of Tibães, near Braga (Fig. 4.4)—not coincidentally the most important Rococo interior in Portugal—and the Abbey of Santa Cruz of the Augustinian Canons

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 189

in Coimbra, which also had a substantial collection of eighteenth-century French spiritual treatises.66 Mandroux-França and Robert Chester Smith long ago related these prints to the work of architect André Soares (1720–1769) and sculptors like the Benedictine brother José de Santo António Vilaça (1731–1809), who collaborated with Soares on the Tibães interior (1757–1760).67 Another important source of designs for Vilaça and other Portuguese architects and wood carvers were French architectural treatises, several of them in Vilaça’s personal library. These included Charles Etienne Briseux’s L’Art de bâtir des maisons de campagne (1743), Augustin-Charles d’Aviler’s Cours d’architecture (1720), Jean-Baptiste Leroux’s Architecture moderne, Charles-Antoine Jombert’s Architecture moderne ou l’Art de bien bâtir pour toutes sortes de personnes (Paris, 1764), and François Blondel’s De la distribution des maisons de Plaisance (1737–1738) and Architecture françoise (1752–1756), and his edition of Vignola, the Livre Nouveau des 5 ordres d’architecture (1757), all purchased in Lisbon between 1768 and 1780. Briseux’s book was particularly noteworthy because volume II was illustrated with 90 cartouches and decorative panels by Babel, and documents show it was the earliest in the collection, a gift of the superior general of the Benedictine order Dom Manuel Caetano Loreto in 1768.68 Surviving ornamental prints in Brazil are very scarce and are by no means representative of the range of models used by architects and sculptors, who followed both Augsburg and French prototypes. There is in fact only a single collection in the Biblioteca Nacional in Rio de Janeiro, which includes works by Boucher, Watteau, Huquier, Christophe Huet, Charles-Antoine Coypel, Marie-Michelle Blondel (fl. mid-eighteenth century), Edmé Bouchardon (1698–1762), and François Collignon (1609–1687), several of them books of trophées, cartouches, vases, and chinoiseries.69 The Biblioteca Nacional also has an important collection of the engravings of Debrie, including religious and secular figural imagery as well as genre scenes and decorative frontispieces, some but not many with Rococo borders.70 Another glimpse of the kind of print that would have been used by Brazilian artists is provided by an inventory of figural engravings owned by the Minas Gerais painter Caetano Luiz de Miranda (1774–ca. 1837), which—judging by the work he executed in the churches of the mining town of Diamantina and from a manuscript of statutes he illustrated in 1778 for the Third Order of Saint Francis in that city—were likely hagiographic sheets by the Klauber brothers of Augsburg.71 They include, among secular themes, various saints’ portraits including “three prints one of Santa Rita, another of the Good Shepherd, another of the Redeemer of the World.”72 As I will discuss below, Klauber prints were one of the chief sources of ornamental motifs for church ceilings throughout Brazil, particularly in Pernambuco and Minas Gerais, although scholars have identified others as well: these include Franz Xaver Dornn’s Litany of Loreto (1771), the model for the ceiling at Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão in Olinda, and eight paintings in the Capela do Capítulo of the Convento de Sao Francisco in Salvador that are derived from the Elogia Mariana (Augsburg, 1732) published by Martin Engelbrecht after drawings by Thomas Scheffler and August Casimir Redel.73

190 The Spiritual Rococo

Portuguese Regionalism and the Benedictine Abbey of Tibães As Ribeiro has noted Luso-Brazilian Rococo architecture differs widely between geographic regions, and she has identified seven distinctive varieties spread along the coasts of Portugal and Brazil: in Lisbon, the Algarve, Alentejo, Porto, Minho, Rio de Janeiro, Minas Gerais, and Pernambuco.74 Although it is closely related to the Pernambuco style I would also isolate the Rococo façades of Bahia, further to the south, particularly Cachoeira and nearby São Felix (for example, Fig. 4.21). The most original Portuguese variant was the hardy style of Minho, centered at Braga and epitomized by the interior of São Martinho de Tibães (1757–1760) by Soares, Vilaça, and Braga woodcarver José Álvares de Araújo (d. 1762; Figs. 4.4, 4.9). Portuguese Rococo décor, primarily consisting of stocky wooden retábulos, frames for windows and other openings, wall panels, and mounts for arches called senefas, is extraordinarily densely carved in high relief and nearly always completely gilded to create a sensation of visual richness of an intensity unequalled, to my mind, anywhere else in the Catholic world. Even Spanish churches rarely match the degree to which gilded wood engulfs the interiors of their Portuguese counterparts. It could not be more different from Central European churches with their light, free-form stucco and naked walls. Yet these wooden structures are attached to rectilinear stone walls of such unremitting severity that the ornament risks looking merely like appliqué. Sometimes designers dealt with this challenge simply by covering the entire inside of a side chapel or Capela-Mor with gilded talha woodwork so that the stone cannot be seen, as at the church of Santa Clara in Porto (1730; Fig. 4.5), where it consumes not merely the altarpiece and side walls but also the Gothic-inspired vault and chancel arch.75 The heftiness and overall aesthetic of these interiors is more Baroque than Rococo, with tightly woven acanthus leaves, Solomonic columns, and massive corbels overwhelming the rocailles and C-scrolls, and despite the generous use of gold they do not sparkle with the lightness of a Bavarian altarpiece or French salon interior since the gilding is undifferentiated and the spaces often poorly lit. The façades exhibit a similar relationship between wall and ornament: unpainted high-relief grey stone carved decoration around the doors, windows, and pediments contrasts sharply with a background of austere whitewash on stone. There is no doubt that the Portuguese juxtaposition of décor with wall is striking, but it merely reinforces the divisions between structural components and spatial zones instead of exploring the ambiguity of frame and framed or inviting dialogue between décor and figural sculpture or paintings. Even the most daringly irregular forms—and Portugal has produced some of the most daring of all—are always balanced by mirror-image motifs opposite. Rococo décor in northern Portugal is always a mixture. It combines German and French rocailles and Augsburg altarpiece models with at times cumbersome Italianate Baroque forms originating in Lisbon and in the complex Tuscan Mannerist-inspired Baroque of Niccolò Nasoni (1691–1773), an Italian immigrant architect from S. Giovanni Valdarno near Florence and active in Porto.76 No altarpiece is entirely Rococo in style: only the upper part (roughly,

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 191

4.4 André Soares, Frei Vilaça: Monastery church of St. Martin at Tibães, Braga, Portugal, 1757–1760. Woodwork by José Álvares de Araújo. Photo by Robert Chester Smith, courtesy Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon

the structure on top of the entablature) features primarily Rococo motifs while the lower two-thirds remain dominated by massive garlanded Solomonic columns, usually arranged in receding planes, a staircase-like mount for candles, decorative elements derived from Bernini’s Baldacchino (1624–1633), and acanthus corbels. This synthesis appeared early in Porto churches such as Santa Clara (1730; Fig. 4.5) by Lisbon woodcarver Miguel Francisco da Silva (fl. 1726–after 1746), who also incorporated a convex or arched baldachinlike extension with false drapery onto the top of the altarpiece. It is almost impossible to spot the Rococo features—predominantly shell forms as at the crowns of the altarpiece and senefa over the chancel arch—buried in all this Baroque pomp. This variety of pediment would become common throughout

192 The Spiritual Rococo

4.5 Miguel Francisco da Silva, Capela-Mor, Santa Clara, Porto, 1730. Photo courtesy Studiolum

the region and in Brazil, sometimes taking the form of false lappets as at São Francisco in the same city (ca. 1720–1770), and it may have its source in Augsburg altarpiece and pulpit models.77 Another crowning motif that would be especially typical of Rio de Janeiro was a Maltese-cross shaped heraldic shield (tarja) flanked by scrolling ear-like extensions on the sides and an arched rocaille cap on the top (Fig. 4.12)—it appears already on the retable in the church of the Paulistas in Lisbon (1727–1730) by Santos Pacheco de Lima (fl. 1717–1755).78 Braga’s proliferation of Rococo church décor—it is called “estilo moderno” in documents of the time—was promoted by a visionary archbishop, Dom José (d. 1756), Primate of Iberia and half-brother of King João V, who held what Angela Delaforce calls a “small court” at the episcopal palace surrounded by his library, Asian porcelains, and tapestries, and also to the far-sighted Benedictine community at nearby Tibães.79 The protagonists were Soares and Vilaça, the former a professional architect favored by Dom José and the latter an amateur lay brother, trained by his father in carpentry, who joined the community at Tibães in 1758.80 Prior to his work in the interior at Tibães Soares’s major contribution to Minho Rococo is his vigorous façade at the pilgrimage church of Santa Maria do Monte da Falperra (1753–1755), also near Braga, which was executed by master mason Pedro João Rodrigues and Domingos Alves, a false front with twin buttress-towers pushing out in front of a hexagonal church (Fig. 4.6).81 Soares uses the traditional juxtaposition of granite and whitewash to emphasize the bulky rocaille forms and mixtilinear lines of the main sections of the façade, particularly the door, window, and upper niche. The central section fuses into an organic mass that crawls up around these openings and into the broken pediment, its overall appearance, heavy with auricular contortions, more reminiscent of a garden grotto than an ecclesiastical structure (Fig. 4.2). Scholars have traced the Rococo elements

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 193

4.6 André Soares, façade, Church of Maria Madalena da Falperra, Braga, 1753–1755. Photo: Author

in this façade generically to prints by Habermann, the Klaubers, Meissonnier, and Babel, but I have located a much more direct model: a circa 1740–1750 book of furniture handle designs by Johann Bauer printed by Engelbrecht in Augsburg, Unterschiedene Hand-Haben mit Muscheln u. Schnirckeln welche auf vielerley Arth sehr nüzlich können gebraucht werden, particularly in the flamelike shells riding the C-scrolls on the sides of the door, window, and lower part of the niche, which create ear-like forms in mirror image (Fig. 4.8).82 These shells become one of Soares’s favored motifs, as seen also in the façade of the Braga Archiepiscopal Palace (1750s), where shells lifted straight from Bauer’s print guard the sides of the main portal (Fig. 4.7). Bauer’s companion designs for decorative urns were used in Adam Engelhard’s contemporary sacristy cabinets at Santiago Cathedral in Chile (Fig. 5.32).

194 The Spiritual Rococo

Left, 4.7 André Soares, detail of portal, Archiepiscopal Palace, Braga, 1750s. Photo: Author Right, 4.8 Johann Bauer, rocailles, from Unterschiedene Hand-Haben mit Muscheln u. Schnirckeln welche auf vielerley Arth sehr nüzlich können gebraucht werden, engraved by Jacob Andreas Fridrich and printed by Johann Christian Leopold, Augsburg, eighteenth century. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung

Soares’s most important contribution to Rococo décor is his design for the talha work at the church of São Martinho at Tibães (1756–1767), executed by Vilaça and Araújo (Figs. 4.4, 4.9).83 The church itself is a profoundly conservative, box-like structure formed of a large rectangular nave with six deep rectangular side chapels and a narrower Capela-Mor which is only differentiated from the nave by its scale and lack of side chapels. The interior is dominated by cool grey granite, both in the walls and in the plain coffered barrel-vault over the nave, which appears again in the Capela-Mor and side chapels. Jammed from floor to ceiling with gilded Baroque retábulos—the central pair are completely encased in talha—the side chapels are poorly lit and direct our attention toward the front, the only light in the nave coming from seven modest windows above. By contrast the windows in the Capela-Mor, three to a side, are like French windows, extending from the top of the choirstalls to the main entablature, making the chancel brighter than the nave and creating a similar effect as the Salon de la Princesse at the end of its enfilade at the Hôtel de Soubise (Figs. 2.19–2.21, Plate 1) or the shadowboxlike apse at the Johanneskirche in Landsberg am Lech (Figs. 3.33, 3.34, Plate 9). Soares and his team brighten this severe space with a unifying network of massive, wooden senefas formed of jagged-edged rocailles, C-scrolls, and

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 195

baldachin lappets, which balances the plainness of the walls and vaults with the warm glitter of its overall gilding. An even larger senefa-like cap, formed of a crescendo of curves and counter-curves, surmounts the chancel arch— Bauer-style shells dominate the extremities while the central cartouche recalls one of Babel’s monumental cartouche designs (especially Fig. 2.17)—and it culminates in a heraldic plaque and oculus window, itself surrounded with a scalloped shell frame. The outlines of the clerestory windows and the Capela-Mor doors and choirstalls are also punctuated with heavy spirals, waves, shellwork, fronds, and floral sprays—particularly at the extremities—as are the organ loft, pulpit, guarda-ventos (wooden vestibules), and even the picture frames in the Sacristy. Nevertheless, while this golden vision harmonizes the interior and subtly links certain zones—the scrolls below the CapelaMor windows touch the upper scrolls of the choirstalls and the cartouches crowning the side altar arches overlap with the clerestory window frames— the architectural structure is reasserted rather than challenged, and the strict division between zones does not encourage the kind of freeform observation encouraged by the intersecting ovals of churches like Vierzehnheiligen or Die Wies (Figs. 3.1, 3.2, 3.36, 3,37, Plate 10). Perhaps the greatest achievements of Soares and his team—arguably among the most unusual Rococo motifs in the history of the style—are the gargantuan funnel-like shell/leaf forms

4.9 André Soares, Frei Vilaça, José Álvares de Araújo, choir décor, Monastery church of St. Martin at Tibães, Braga, 1757–1760. Photo by Robert Chester Smith, courtesy Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, Lisbon

196 The Spiritual Rococo

4.10 Alexis Peyrotte, cartouche from Second livre de cartouches chinois dédié à Madame de Fontanieu (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1762). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

with scalloped edges that cling to the base of the Capela-Mor windows and look like outsized versions of the cartouches in one of Alexis Peyrotte’s Chinoiseries, particularly the Second livre de cartouches chinois dédié à Madame de Fontanieu (1742), a model used by Isidro Lorea in Buenos Aires two decades later (Figs. 4.9, 4.10; 5.16– 20).84 But no model can take the credit for such energetic, three-dimensional carving that confounds any attempt to identify mineral or vegetable in its transformative jumble of forms—a kind of décor that thanks in part to its reluctance to engage with the architecture takes on a life of its own in a way that we have seen only in the work of Dominikus Zimmermann’s architecture “fashioned of ornament” (Figs. 3.33, 3.34, 3.37, Plates 9–10). The high altar at Tibães is less radical, although it incorporates a much greater concentration of Rococo motifs than Santa Clara in Porto (Fig. 4.5). The lower part is the most traditional, a concave structure supported on Solomonic columns. Yet it is liberally sprinkled with irregular rocailles—notably on the columns and high, hourglass-shaped plinths and predella panels—as well as heavier, Bauerstyle shells in the pediment, and it has a slenderer profile than the Porto altarpiece and replaces the former’s bulkier Solomonics and tight packing of columns and sculptures with narrower columns and spacious statue niches. The flame-like shells over the niches are a particular tour de force. Instead of a canopy as at Santa Clara the complex superstructure at Tibães is formed of an intersecting and diaphanous skeleton of mixtilinear and scrolling cornices encasing a giant tarja. Robert Smith and Angela Delaforce trace the overall structure of the altar to patterns by Andrea Pozzo, which share its use of Solomonic columns and its concave structure, but one need not go back so far since these elements also exist in many mid-eighteenth century models by Habermann and Hertel.85 Smith has related the superstructure to an Allegory of Hope by Gottfried Bernard Goez, which has similar scrolling shell forms in the volutes at the top, but to my mind the Bauer and Peyrotte prototypes just noted are closer. The overall structure, particularly the freeform pediment and the way the columns are more spaced apart, point toward one of the Augsburg altarpiece models, which share its columnar structure, curved

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 197

cornices, open crown of scrolls, and distinctive hourglass plinths—in fact the center of the principal tarja seems to contain an abstracted bird that may derive from a dove of the Holy Spirit present in many of the Augsburg sheets (for example, Fig. 5.31). As we will see in Brazil and especially in Spanish South America, it is precisely the lighter, more rational structure of these Germanic prototypes that gave them their appeal.

Brazilian Rococo It is surprising that Brazil was to develop such a distinct variant of Rococo décor since Portugal’s relationship with the region was much closer than one of mother country to colony. A significant proportion of Portugal’s military, mercantile, and ecclesiastical elite either came from Brazil or spent long times there—António Vieira, who grew up in Bahia, is an example—and Brazil’s rapidly growing population and critical role in Portugal’s economic and geopolitical well-being meant that as early as 1738 the Portuguese intellectual Dom Luis de Cunha (1662–1749) was recommending that the court move to Rio de Janeiro.86 When they finally did, escaping Napoleon in 1807, it is clear that they had been planning the move for some time. Portugal needed Brazil to maintain its status as an international power and was careful to include Brazilians in the governments of both Portugal and Brazil. Three hundred Brazilian students graduated from the University of Coimbra between 1772 and 1785 and others went on to study in France at the medical school at Montpellier.87 These close ties affected artists and architects as well—they travelled back and forth between the continents more than their Spanish American counterparts, and much of the masonry, tiles, and carved stone ornamentation used in the churches and mansions of coastal cities such as Rio or Salvador (Bahia) was shipped ready-made from Lisbon. As in Portugal Brazilian Rococo developed along regional lines, with stark differences in style between Rio de Janeiro, Minas Gerais (and its satellite São Paulo), Bahia, and Pernambuco. Unlike in the motherland, Brazilian churches are frequently built of whitewashed brick and wood—in Portugal only the painted ceilings were usually wooden—and their interiors are generally more modestly decorated in lighter, more cheerful colors. This distinction applies even to talha: whereas retábulos in Portugal tend to be gilded overall, as we have seen, gilding in Brazil usually serves merely as an accent (the Tibãesstyle high altar at São Bento in Olinda, 1783–1786, is a noteworthy exception). Similarly the carved ornamentation on the walls and proscenium arch of the Capela-Mor tends to be more refined and delicate than its equivalent in Portugal. Painted ceilings also demonstrate a subtle shift in aesthetics, as the Portuguese predilection for deep colors and heavy Pozzo-inspired quadratura gave way—particularly in Minas Gerais and São Paulo—to more delicate traceries of fantasy architecture formed of rocailles taken from Augsburg hagiographic prints set against wide expanses of robin’s-egg blue or yellow

198 The Spiritual Rococo

and painted in bright colors like coral red, vermilion, mint green, and pink (Figs. 4.22, 4.33, E.2, Plates 11, 12). In paintings such as the Apparition of Our Lady of Porciúncula (1802) by Manuel da Costa Ataíde (1762–1830) in the nave of the Third Order Franciscan church of São Francisco de Assis in Ouro Preto (Fig. 4.22, Plate 11), the decorative, asymmetrical treatment of the feigned architecture and the prominence given to rocailles is closer to Germanic examples such as Johann Georg Bergmüller’s ceiling at the Schloßkapelle at Haimhausen (Fig. 3.23) than anything in Portugal. Costa Ataíde’s painting in Ouro Preto demonstrates two distinctive characteristics of Brazilian Rococo: its late date shows that Rococo in Brazil far outlasted its counterpart in Portugal (or anywhere else in Europe) and its patronage by a third order brotherhood testifies to the critical contribution lay religious organizations played in the development of ecclesiastical Rococo overall.88 As noted the brotherhoods’ main means of social display was their lavish philanthropy toward church building and decoration, and indeed financial stability was a prerequisite for membership: “[a]s evidence of their piety and enthusiasm for religious ceremony, individuals donated large sums of money to fund the building and decoration of magnificent baroque [sic] churches typical of the major parishes ….”89 Brotherhoods came in many varieties and represented a wide range of social classes, professions, and races, from governors to slaves, although all were open to men and women and some admitted people of all races and stations. Not surprisingly the most esteemed served whites—some like the third orders of São Francisco and Nossa Senhora do Monte de Carmo even had to demonstrate purity of blood—however black confraternities proliferated, including those representing slaves (Nossa Senhora do Rosário, São Benedito, São Elesbão, and Santa Efigênia), as well as confraternities of free and manumitted blacks, tribal Africans, creoles, and half-castes (pardos) such as those dedicated to São José, Santana, São Gonçalo Garcia, and Nossa Senhora das Mercês.90 Minas Gerais was the most profoundly affected by the patronage of irmandades and according to one estimate there were 250 confraternities in Vila Rica alone.91 Since their very prestige was at stake and confraternities and third order brotherhoods were constantly in competition they outdid each other with acts of architectural philanthropy, at first financing mere chapels in a Matriz (parish church), but later—when in the second half of the eighteenth century funds, legalities, and ecclesiastical patronage made it possible—erecting their own freestanding churches. Irmandades paid particular attention to stylishness in church décor, constantly updating it to reflect current trends from Europe as a reflection of their organizations’ sophistication.92 Although they were allowed to request financial assistance from the local bishop, government organs, or even the Crown, the vast majority of the expenses were shouldered by members. They were also plagued with myriad technical delays on such necessities as obtaining the appropriate license (licença) to build, and so many of the interiors of eighteenth-century confraternity

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 199

churches were not finished until well into the nineteenth. This slow pace of construction was one of many factors which contributed to the extraordinary longevity of the Rococo in Brazil.93 The church of Nossa Senhora Mãe dos Homens in Rio provides a good case study (Fig. 4.11). A community of local businessmen associated with the nearby docks, it was founded in 1750 when it was granted land belonging to an existing shrine on Alfândega Street, and construction began eight years later when they received their license, possibly commissioning the design from military architect José Fernandes Pinto Alpoim (1700–1765).94 The church was nearly completed by December of 1766 according to a report from inspector José Vasques, who declared that it was ready to serve the Divine Office: Only the Capela-Mor is of stone, the rest is of brick … recently roofed with a vault; the said chapel has a well-made choir with an arch on the inside; on the extremities two galleries per side; the chapel ceiling is well painted with an emblem in the middle of Our Lady nicely executed; also the Capela-Mor has a wooden tribune of talha which has yet to be installed, in which they will install the same Lady; the said tribune is made of unpainted wood; and on the sides an altar on each side; it has a sacristy on one side also of stone; the vaulting just completed [is] very well made by the look of it, of vinhático [a kind of wood] and jacaranda; on the other side a hall also of stone on the sides; all in good order and well positioned; I find the said chapel [to be] in a decent location to serve domestic needs, and completed with perfection and in it one can celebrate the holy sacrifice of the Mass and the rest of the divine office.”95

Nevertheless works progressed very slowly afterward owing to a dearth of funds and it was only in 1789 that architect Inácio Ferreira Pinto (1765–1828) was hired to execute the retables and the framing of the vault and lateral walls,

4.11 Attributed to José Fernandes Pinto Alpoim, Nossa Senhora Mãe dos Homens, Rio de Janeiro, 1750–1789. Photo: Author

200 The Spiritual Rococo

4.12 Santa Rita de Cássia, Rio de Janeiro, 1753–1759. Photo: Author

4.13 Detail of Tarja over chancel arch, Santa Rita de Cássia, Rio de Janeiro, 1753–1759. Photo: Author

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 201

and other craftsmen were hired to complete the ornament of the crossing and choir, and the nave tribunes and chancel.96 The Pombaline façade was not finished until 1803. Rio de Janeiro was the first Brazilian city to embrace Rococo décor, in the Matriz and dual confraternity chapel of Santa Rita de Cássia in 1753–1759 (Figs. 4.12, 4.13), and it was also one of the last, its enthusiasm for the style still fervent when the Portuguese court took up residence there in 1808 and enlarged the Carmelite church in a courtly Rococo style as the royal chapel and cathedral (Figs. 4.14–16)—astonishingly Rococo decorative carving was still characterized as “talha moderna” in Rio as late as 1820.97 Nevertheless, an austere Lisbon-inspired Italianate style dominated the city’s grey stone façades following Pombal’s anointment of the city as the colonial capital in 1763 and Rio is one of few cities in Brazil where Rococo décor was limited to the interiors of buildings. Two main varieties of décor coexisted in Rio, one derived from Portuguese ecclesiastical interiors and influenced by Augsburg altarpiece models and the other a more delicate and refined style derived from French domestic Rococo. Yet in both the typically lighter colors of Brazil dominated, with wooden ceilings and sometimes walls painted in white or pastel tones and divided into panels with gilded relief ornament. Santa Rita represents the first of those varieties, a scaled-down, lighter, and more delicate version of the monastery at Tibães. Founded by private donors and placed in the care of the Brotherhood of Santa Rita in 1721 it was raised

4.14 Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, Rio de Janeiro, begun 1761, woodwork 1785–1795. Photo: Author

202 The Spiritual Rococo

4.15 José de Oliveira Rosa, Virgin of Carmel, apse ceiling, Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, Rio de Janeiro, before 1781. Photo: Author

to the status of a Matriz in 1751.98 When, two years later, the Brotherhood of the Holy Sacrament also moved into the church it was redecorated in the Rococo style. Like Tibães Santa Rita is a rectilinear church with a Capela-Mor which is narrower than the nave and proceeded by a proscenium arch, and since it is a more modest structure it replaces the side chapels with altarpieces although it preserves the clerestory windows. The Rio church shares many of the decorative features of the Portuguese monastery church, including an elaborate crown over the proscenium arch surmounted by an oculus window, but here the wooden décor has been reduced to isolate the tarja and flanking wings (Fig. 4.13) so typical of Rio (the paintings are modern). Santa Rita also has the same contrast between plain walls and decorated talha, although the church achieves greater unity of design than at Tibães since the carving is subtler, the gilding is less prominent, and the altars and proscenium arch are painted in light colors—pink, light blue, putty, and mint green—which harmonize with the walls. The four side altarpieces were the first of what became a standard carioca design, ultimately based on an altarpiece design by I.G. Koenig published in Hertel’s series 88.99 Set into a concave niche they feature an inner pair of corbelled fluted pilasters and an outer pair of fluted columns crowned with a sinuous central aedicule flanked by angels and enclosing a Gloria. They are adorned by evenly spaced rocaille motifs that recall Regency or early Rococo domestic panels in Paris (Fig. 4.17) and are each crowned with the Rio tarja shield and side wings. We will see this same type of altarpiece in Buenos Aires, where Luso-Brazilian retablo makers plied their trade (Figs. 5.24, 5.25, Plate 14).

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 203

No large sacred interior in Latin America more consistently recalls French domestic décor than Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, the former Carmelite church begun in 1761 and transformed in 1808 into the Chapel Royal and Cathedral (Sé) before being replaced by the New Cathedral in 1976 (Figs. 4.14–16).100 Executed between 1785 and 1795 the originally nine altarpieces and the relief carving of the nave and Capela-Mor were the work of Ferreira Pinto.101 Although it was enlarged upon its elevation to royal status the additions did not affect the nave and Capela-Mor. The former Carmelite church was not the first interior in Rio in the French domestic style—that distinction goes to the small reliquary chapel at the monastery of São Bento (1760–1769)—but it is the first time it was employed on a grand scale: Ribeiro writes that it looks like “a large feast hall,” an impression that would have been even more pronounced before the introduction of pews in the twentieth century.102 The most striking feature of the interior is the levity and overall unity created by the off-white wood paneling with gilded frames and accents, which envelop nave, Capela-Mor, and vault alike. By contrast the high altar retábulo, although consistent in color scheme with the rest of the interior, brings to mind the solutions of Santa Rita (Figs 4.12, 4.13) and is relatively conservative. Only the chancel arch departs from the overall lightness, its bulky gilt accents recalling the triumphal arch at Tibães (Fig. 4.4). Although giant pilasters are used throughout the nave and at the chancel arch they are treated like panels, flat against the wall, framed with gilded moldings, and supporting gilded medallions and rocailles. The carving is very sophisticated: irregular rocailles appear throughout the interior, although always balanced with their mirror opposites, and the reliefs are at times exceptionally naturalistic, as with the floral sprays that adorn the side chapel arches. The wooden panels and boiseries are so dominant that they obscure

4.16 Lateral view of the nave, Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé, Rio de Janeiro. Photo: Author

204 The Spiritual Rococo

most of the ceiling painting of the Virgin of Carmel by José de Oliveira Rosa (ca. 1690–1769), which recent conservation work has demonstrated once covered the entire vault of the Capela-Mor (Fig. 4.15). In fact the prominent rocaille motifs at each end of the painting’s new frame directly superimpose themselves in what is—for the Luso-Brazilian world at least—a rare invasion of painted space by decorative sculpture.103 One of the most characteristic forms in the church is a prominent medallion-like sun or cartouche in the center of the pilaster panels accompanied by rocaille motifs above and below as in French domestic interiors (Fig. 4.16). This arrangement appears in several of Mariette’s engravings but its closest model is one of an undated series of wall panel designs published by Étienne Charpentier as Divers Dessins de Menuiserie pour la décoration des Appartemens presentement à la mode, which even has panels crowned by oval medallions as are the nave pilasters in the Rio church (Fig. 4.17). Thus a reticent, early Rococo Parisian style was used on a scale beyond the wildest dreams of its creator in one of the last examples of Rococo church décor in the world. Far from the staid world of the French salon was the boisterous, idiosyncratic Rococo of the churches of Pernambuco in the northeast, where some of the finest décor was also reserved for the pediments of their lofty façades. The most spectacular interior is that of the nave of the diminutive soldiers’ brotherhood church of Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares in Recife, in which a tightly packed paroxysm of wooden rocailles, shell work, and foliage on the walls and ceiling overwhelms the visitor in a way more characteristic

4.17 Etienne Charpentier, wall panel scheme from Divers Dessins de Menuiserie pour la décoration des Appartemens presentement à la mode, Paris, ca. 1730s. Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 205

of Baroque interiors (Figs. 4.18, 4.19). The aesthetic is similar to that of the Dominican church at Aveiro (1723), Santa Clara in Porto (Figs. 4.4, 4.5), and, closer to home, the Baroque church of São Francisco in Salvador (1686–1737), although without the overall gilding and with the heaviest carving on the ceiling.104 Yet the understated nature of the gold accents lends the carving a buoyancy that belies its bulkiness, a cloud-like effect that echoes in three dimensions the triumphant vision Baciccio accomplished at the Roman Gesù: that of the heavens spilling into our space below (Fig. 3.17). Even the usually restrained Germain Bazin proclaimed that “nothing in Portugal approached it,” dubbing it “the Sistine Chapel of the Rococo,” and José de Monterroso Teixeira calls it “the most resounding example of the ‘politesse’ [civilidade] of a religious space, comporting itself like the inside of an opera house, with balconies and tribunes.”105 But if this chapel recalls a profane space, it is a far more exuberant one than the boldest inventions of French designers such as Meissonier’s Bieliński Cabinet (Fig. 2.13), in which a certain classical restraint still reigns, and it even outstrips the most radical monuments of the Augsburger Geschmack such as the Festsaal in the Augsburg Schaezlerpalais (Fig. 3.12, Plate 4) or Johann Baptist Zimmermann’s decoration of the Great Hall at the Nymphenburg (1756), the stuccoes of both of which maintain a

4.18 Antônio Fernandes de Matos, nave interior, Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares, Recife, Brazil, 1726–1771. Photo courtesy Pedro Henrique Cabral Valadares

206 The Spiritual Rococo

4.19 José de Oliveira Barbosa, called Rabelo, or João de Deus Sepúlveda, The Virgin Immaculate, nave ceiling painting, Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares, Recife, ca. 1771–1781. Photo courtesy Pedro Henrique Cabral Valadares

typically Germanic lightness and elasticity. The Recife ceiling is something completely new, a home-grown fusion of the motifs and techniques of French, German, and Portuguese Rococo permeated with a triumphant optimism that is without equivalent anywhere in the world. Yet, true to the Luso-Portuguese style the wooden false-stuccoes merely reinforce the divisions in the wall and ceiling or encircle the figural paintings, never trying to invade spaces or challenge received notions about the role of the frame. Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares was built and decorated in three main phases: the chancel in 1725–1726, the main body of the church in 1757, and the décor in 1771 or 1781 (or perhaps earlier).106 The building is little more

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 207

than a rectangular box with a Capela-Mor, side corridors, paired pulpits, and balconies, and as at Tibães the décor seems simply stuck onto the plain walls (Fig. 4.4). The ceiling paintings, designs of the talha, and the balustrade motif running around the upper part of the walls are variously attributed to José de Oliveira Barbosa, called Rabelo (1753–1844), who painted the nave ceiling of the church of Santo Antônio in Igaraçu in 1749 using a similar scheme in which figural scenes that are not adjusted for perspective float like islands in a sea of rocailles, or to João de Deus Sepúlveda (fl. 1700–1733).107 The ceiling features 11 painted motifs surrounded by high relief carving in white and gold—the frames of the peripheral paintings are asymmetrical although always balanced by mirror-image frames on the other side. The paintings include the Virgin Immaculate (at the center) and five smaller allegorical paintings of the Virgin Mary evenly distributed at each end. The figure of Mary in the central frame is a reverse rendition of a Virgin Immaculate by the Klauber workshop, her contrapposto straightened out, and one of the peripheral paintings is from the upper part of another Klauber picture entitled Fecit potentiam in brachio suo, in which the virgin reveres her infant son as the Salvator Mundi.108 The decorative frames come from French sources, most notably again Babel’s giant cartouches (Fig. 2.17). The massive, deeply scalloped double shell at the extremities of the central frame—the frame itself has been straightened out for symmetry— appears on several of Babel’s inventions, as do the garlands, the lips outlining the curves and (in the smaller cartouches on the ends of the ceiling) the fishscale motifs, masks, and C-scrolls curving back over the frame. In both Pernambuco and Bahia Rococo carved stone or stucco décor is a dominating feature of the pediments of church façades, contrasting markedly with the plain exteriors of Rio and even with their own stone windows and doors, which were frequently imported directly from Portugal as ballast. Earlier pediments were more structural, formed of a central aedicule flanked by volutes as was traditional in Portugal (for example, the Jesuit church at Santarém, 1676), and by the 1720s the volutes began to multiply dramatically, as in the church of São Francisco in Salvador (façade, 1720).109 By the 1730s the aedicule was replaced by a small niche, oculus, or cartouche with the result that the whole pediment was now formed of scrolls in a rhythmic balance of curve and counter-curve. Some of the façades, notably that of the Carmelite church and Santo António in Recife (1767; 1770), used gargantuan volutes lined with acanthus leaves and deeply scalloped shells closely recalling those of Babel’s cartouches (Figs. 2.17, 4.20). In its basic structure the pediment of the Carmelite church may also follow one of the Habermann-Hertel altarpiece models from series 49, which has the same positioning of the scrolls lined with rocailles (Fig. 4.34).110 A lighter kind of pediment, more Rococo in spirit featuring delicate, elongated scrolls with jagged shell work at their junctures, crowns the façades of the Third Order Carmelite church in Recife (1797–1803), the Carmelite church in Cachoeira (1773), and its offspring, the parish church of Deus Menino at neighboring São Felix (ca. 1773), a fragile-looking confection of teardrop and flame-shaped accents that resembles the roofline of

208 The Spiritual Rococo

4.20 Façade (detail), Carmo, Recife, Brazil, 1767. Photo: Author

a Thai temple and is unjustly neglected in the literature (Fig. 4.21). Although Bazin traces the façade of the Cachoeira church to direct Chinese influence I think its similarities to Asian architecture are purely coincidental—fascinating as they may be. The model is much more likely an Augsburg print like the one published by Johann Simon Negges (1726–1792) with the same shoulder forms ridged with jagged rocailles (the Carmelite façade even has the same pair of angels) (Fig. 4.35).111 Few rococo inventions so clearly demonstrate the creative possibilities of the pastiche as do these extraordinary pediments.

Minas Gerais Rococo and Its Diffusion No brand of Brazilian Rococo is as celebrated as that of Minas Gerais, where the brotherhoods reigned supreme. Scholars like Bazin directly credit the region’s freedom from the “roadblocks” set up by monastic foundations with “the rapid expansion of the creative genius,” and Kenneth Maxwell goes further, maintaining that the churches built by these groups were “free from the imported models that dominated the littoral.”112 This romantic view of Minas Gerais as an independent crucible of creativity—European sources and immigrant artists were as important here as anywhere else as I will soon demonstrate—is especially associated with the myth of Aleijadinho, in Bazin’s words “the only Brazilian artist … who appears before us with a soul, a personality, and a biography.”113 That biography was a fanciful life by historian Rodrigo José Ferreira Brêtas (1858) later promoted by scholars such as Fernando Jorge (1949) in which Aleijadinho (the unfortunate sobriquet means “Little Cripple,” which is why I prefer to use his proper name, Antônio

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 209

4.21 Façade (detail), Deus Menino, São Felix, Brazil, ca. 1773. Photo: Author

Francisco Lisboa) was struck with a degenerate, possibly venereal, disease, was reduced to working with metal tools attached to his mutilated hands, and carved works of incomparable delicacy in lonely isolation, working mostly at night and transported in a covered litter by slaves so that townspeople would not have to look at his deformities. While some of Brêtas’ claims are true, Lisboa’s persistent image as a solitary, self-taught genius is not, and his mixedrace ancestry—so important to the ideology of independent Brazil—did not make his work somehow reflective of African visual culture as many have long claimed. Indeed the scholarship is now seriously questioning aspects of the Aleijadinho legend, doubting the severity of his handicap, reducing the number of autograph works, and—most importantly—acknowledging that he worked within a collective atelier system.114 However there is no doubt that he was recognized in his day as one of the leading—if not the leading— sculptors and architects of the Rococo. While I prefer to evaluate Minas Gerais Rococo architecture and décor as being different from—rather than superior to—that of Pernambuco or Rio de Janeiro, it is impossible not to be impressed with the later eighteenth-century churches of Ouro Preto, São João del-Rei, Mariana, or Congonhas do Campo. With few exceptions it is the only region that produced the curvilinear façades, elliptical or polygonal ground plans, and rounded towers that made its churches so closely resemble those of southern Germany (as scholars have long noted) and so unlike churches anywhere else in Latin America.115 These innovations are particularly surprising when compared to earlier Minas Gerais churches, which had a frontier aspect with wooden walls, boxy ground plans, and plain, classicizing façades.116 The Rococo architecture and sculpture of the region owed much to the constant arrival of immigrants

210 The Spiritual Rococo

from Portugal who introduced the latest fashions from Europe and to the wherewithal of the mining-rich brotherhoods, especially those of the Third Order Carmelites and Franciscans but also brotherhoods of every stripe, class, and race.117 Lisboa was a pioneer in introducing Rococo into Minas, but only as part of a much wider network that included his extended family and fellow artists, including his Portuguese carpenter father, Manuel Francisco Lisboa (active 1728–1767)—significantly, a Third Order Carmelite—and his uncle the Lisbon-born carpinteiro António Francisco Pombal (active 1721–1745), as well as collaborators such as Portuguese-born sculptor Francisco Xavier de Brito (d. 1751), and the designer and medal-maker João Gomes Batista (active 1719–1788), who had trained with Antoine Mengin (1690–1772), one of the French engravers invited to work at João V’s court.118 Contemporaries were well aware of the significance of the new style: the eighteenth-century vereador (councilor) of Mariana sang Rococo’s praises, comparing what he called the “gothic” (that is, crude) taste of earlier décor with the work of Brito, Felipe Vieira (fl. 1760s), and Lisboa, whom he held to be superior to all “because of his irregular ornament in the finest French taste.”119 Rococo was so much prized as a sign of sophistication by 1771 that Lisboa was hired to update the façade of a church his father Manuel had designed only five years earlier (Nossa Senhora do Carmo in Ouro Preto) in the new style: “the fact that considerable sums were spent revising a work barely completed indicates that the new Rococo style, of which Aleijadinho seems to have been the most talented exponent, was highly prestigious.”120 One of the chief features of Minas Rococo is clarity, particularly in its altarpieces: architects replaced the saturated ornament and overall gilding of Baroque retábulos with light colors delicately highlighted with gold and subtler traceries of vines and shellwork, reintroduced the semi-circular arch, and increasingly discarded Solomonic columns in favor of corbelled pilasters or straight, fluted columns in classical orders. As we will also see in Spanish South America in the following chapter much of Brazil’s acceptance of Rococo was driven by the same Enlightenment enthusiasm for structural logic and simplicity of ornament that in Europe paved the way for Neoclassicism. The most sophisticated monuments of ecclesiastical Rococo in Minas Gerais are in two towns 165 kilometers apart: the third order Franciscan churches of São Francisco de Assis in Ouro Preto (the former Vila Rica, 1766–1794) and in São João del-Rei (1774–1803)—built, as was often the case with brotherhood churches in the region, in direct competition with one another (Figs. 4.22–30, Plates 11, 12). Although scholars have long debated the degree to which Lisboa was personally involved in both churches he almost certainly invented the elevations of both since two fairly firmly attributed watercolor elevations survive of the church at São João del-Rei—one lateral and the other showing half the façade, one of the towers, and detailed renditions of the carved decoration—and documents from 1774–1775 show he was paid for a design he made for the Ouro Preto portal.121 Scholars agree that Lisboa also invented

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 211

the sculptural décor on both façades and in the Capela-Mor of the Ouro Preto church as well as its retábulo, although they disagree about the extent to which he was assisted in their execution. It is nevertheless unclear how much of the overall design of the church of São Francisco at Ouro Preto (Figs. 4.22–24, 4.28, 4.29, Plate 11) can be credited to Lisboa. Its principal architect was the Portuguese master mason Domingos Moreira de Oliveira (fl. 1760s-1790s), who was assisted in the Capela-Mor and corridor vaults by Henrique Gomes de Brito (fl. 1760s) and, according to Ribeiro, some finishing touches were made by the Braga architect Francisco de Lima Cerqueira (active 1771–1808), main builder of the rival church at São João del-Rei.122 But Tim Benton and Nicola Durbridge believe Oliveira had no pretentions to architectural design and that Lisboa was likely the mastermind behind the entire church, particularly since he was appointed an assessor of the building in the 1790s, “a mark of honour and respect that may be enough to identify him as the architect of the whole work.”123 A similar situation obtained for the wood and stucco decorative scheme in the Capela-Mor vault, the first part of the church to be finished (1771–1774): it was officially contracted to Gomes de Brito, yet Lisboa conceived and certainly carved

4.22 Manuel da Costa Ataíde, Apparition of Our Lady of Porciúncula, nave ceiling painting, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, Brazil, 1802. Vault constructed 1772–1774. Photo courtesy Percival Tirapeli (Baroque Churches of Brazil, Sao Paulo: Metalivros, 2008), photo by Jacob Gelwan

212 The Spiritual Rococo

4.23 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Henrique Gomez de Brito, nave, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, 1766–1794. Photo courtesy Willian Dias, courtesy of the Legislative Assembly of Minas Gerais

the decoration.124 Lisboa’s high altar retábulo, designed in 1778, built in 1791–1792, and installed in 1794, was constructed offsite at the sculptor’s atelier in Rio Espera, 90 kilometers to the south.125 Aside from the Capela-Mor ceiling Lisboa carved the façade ornament, the pedra-sabão (soapstone) pulpits (1769–1772, his earliest firmly datable work thanks to surviving payment records), and the adjacent stone proscenium arch—the latter two incorporate the first rocailles in Minas Gerais (Fig. 4.24). Benton and Durbridge note that as with other parts of the church the stone sculpture for the interior of the Capela-Mor was officially contracted out to a Portuguese, José António de Brito, possibly a relation of Gomes de Brito, who supplied Itacolomi and pedrasabão stone and then only subcontracted it to Lisboa.126 They attribute this arrangement to the racial laws of the time, which would not have awarded a half-black sculptor such a remunerative assignment. Similarly, it is significant that while Lisboa’s Portuguese father could belong to the all-white Third order of Carmelites the younger Lisboa could only join the black confraternity of Nossa Senhora da Boa Morte.127 Manuel da Costa Ataíde’s paintings are much later, his Apparition of Our Lady of Porciúncula dating from 1802—the feigned architecture is in tempera and the central apotheosis in oil—and the canvases in the nave and chancel as late as 1812. The building history of São João del-Rei (Figs. 4.25–27, 4.30, Plate 12) is somewhat less complicated. Although Lisboa clearly designed the elevation and façade the revolutionary ground plan is attributed to Lima Cerqueira, and while the vault design of the Capela-Mor (1781) bears some similarities to that of the Ouro Preto church it was probably entirely executed by Luís Pinheiro Lobo (fl. 1760s–1780s).128 Scholars have long considered this second CapelaMor to be simply a variation on the first—indeed its similarity to the Ouro

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 213

4.24 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Henrique Gomez de Brito, detail of junction between nave and Capela-Mor, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, 1773–1794. Photo courtesy Willian Dias, courtesy of the Legislative Assembly of Minas Gerais

Preto church is cited as one of the main proofs given for Lisboa’s authorship— but while they are undoubtedly similar I trace the lighter, more tracery-like character of the latter to another model, about which more shortly. The six equally delicate side altarpieces, possibly designed and even partly carved by Lisboa, were completed around 1803, while the more conservative high

214 The Spiritual Rococo

4.25 Francisco de Lima Cerqueira, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, Brazil, 1774–1803 (plan). After Germain Bazin, L’architecture religieuse baroque au Brésil (Sao Paulo, 1956): I, 193

altarpiece with its Solomonic columns was begun after 1790. The daring façade at Ouro Preto juxtaposes convex and concave sections of wall and features the first cylindrical towers in Latin America, although the nave and Capela-Mor are still mainly rectilinear. Nevertheless, the nave looks like an oval since convex sections of wall in each of the four corners of the nave provide that sensation (the two flanking the Capela-Mor lead to a pair of corridors running the length of the chancel) (Figs. 4.22–24, 4.28, Plate 11). In fact in a rare interaction—for Brazil—between paint and architecture false convex balustrades with figures of the Church Fathers peek out from the ceiling above each of the convex walls in a way that recalls Germanic examples such as the false parapets over the ends of the nave vault at Zwiefalten (compare Figs 4.24, 3.25, Plate 5). The São João del-Rei church is the opposite of its Ouro Preto rival. Here the façade is rectilinear (Fig. 4.30), except for the same cylindrical towers that in this case are not integrated into the plan but simply stuck on each end, while the nave walls are sinuous and elastic, moving from a rectangular vestibule encountered upon entering the church into an oval nave, and the interplay of convex and concave forms is echoed in the undulations of the prominent false marble entablature (Figs 4.25, 4.26). The experience of standing in São João del-Rei is much more like that in a Central European church—in fact the combination of elongated oval nave with rectangular chancel (at least on the interior) is quite close to the Wieskirche minus the surrounding galleries (Figs. 4.25, 3.36), and the use of false marbling on the entablature and pilasters and the nude whiteness of the nave walls have a decidedly Germanic stamp. However the grandeur of this smaller building operates on a more human scale. Although it encourages papillotage-like observation through its lively jumble of monochrome wooden side altars—because of the contour of the walls they lean toward each other in what seems to be a swiveling motion almost as if in response to the visitor— it does not do so across vast spaces as in Bavaria but on a close, personal

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 215

level, as we are encouraged to approach the altarpieces and linger over their carved naturalistic décor. Draped with sinuous senefa canopies dripping with foliage and crowned with outsized trellises that reach toward the ceiling, the altarpieces look like garden pergolas, an effect enhanced by their delicate tracery of tendrils, shells, blossoms, foliage, and rocailles. This décor contrasts not only with the traditional heaviness of Portuguese altarpieces but also with the plainer side altars at Ouro Preto (after Lisboa`s designs but only executed between 1820 and 1890), which lack their naturalistic imagery (Fig. 4.23). This invitation to meditate in a nature-infused pastoral setting recalls the Arcadian hideaway of Teodoro de Almeida’s hero Missena. Almeida describes this place, where Missena receives his guests, as being: “under a bower which formed a very graceful study (gabinete). Here the grapevines, which hang in a circle, created a kind of canopy; the green grass served as a carpet, its back was formed by a palisade in which the violet, entangled spirals, interwoven with aromatic creepers, climbed upward and blocked out the rising sun so that it would not disturb them.”129 The altarpieces at São João del-Rei create a peaceful and joyful setting for the devotional images in their central niches, which has much in common with the nature-infused décor in Germanic churches or French interiors, yet even here the statues do not take the extra step of interacting with the frames as they do in Bavaria (Fig. 3.28, 3.29, Plate 7).

4.26 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira, interior, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, 1774–1803. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa

4.27 Luís Pinheiro Lobo and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira (?), Capela-Mor, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, begun 1781, altarpiece begun 1790. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 217

4.28 Antônio Francisco Lisboa, Domingos Moreira de Oliveira, and others, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, begun 1766. Photo courtesy Willian Dias, courtesy of the Legislative Assembly of Minas Gerais

In the interiors of the churches at Ouro Preto and São João del-Rei alike the plain nave walls focus our attention on the Capela-Mor so that they appear, in Bazin’s words, “like an apotheosis.”130 The two chancels are like stages with dazzling white gilded wood carving on the altarpiece and an intertwining network of moldings and medallions in the ceiling, yet the impression is not one of overwhelming richness: the chancels are striking for their delicacy rather than their opulence, manifesting an almost dichromatic balance

218 The Spiritual Rococo

between the milky white of the walls and altarpiece, and the gilded décor.131 At Ouro Preto, where the ornament is bulkier, the only colors are found in figural relief sculpture, four panel paintings in irregular frames on the walls, and light blue false marbling on the entablatures and outer pilasters of the retábulo. The color scheme of the São João del-Rei chancel (Fig. 4.27) is even more restricted, with a splash of blue in the Trinity relief and the flesh tones of those figures and the cherub heads that substitute for the earlier church’s figural medallions. In both churches the gilding unites the chancel from plinth to vault—at São João del-Rei it also encompasses the side walls, windows, and picture frames—in a harmonic web of rocailles and foliage much subtler than the massive accretions of Portuguese interiors such as Tibães (Fig. 4.4). Like Rococo interiors in Germany and France natural light is a key ingredient in creating a joyous atmosphere in these chancels, introduced through large lobed oculi on the side walls, which bear more than a passing resemblance to Dominikus Zimmermann’s windows at the Wieskirche (Fig. 3.37, Plate 10). However the closest precedent for the chancel vault at São João delRei is French, not German: I am convinced that it is the only interior in Latin America based on the Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise (Figs. 2.21, 4.27, Plates 1, 12). The rocaille arabesques linking the corners of the room with the top of the vault—they form a chain of shell-work cartouches and foliate motifs, including a fleur-de-lis form—are inspired by Germain Boffrand’s engravings of that Parisian salon in his Livre d’architecture (1745), in which segments of cartouche, scrolls, and foliage similarly meet at a scalloped boss at the center.132 Even the reduction of figural imagery to tiny cherubs in the São João del-Rei vault, in contrast to the full- and three-quarter-length figures in the one at Ouro Preto, point toward the use of this French model. The coloristic and decorative unity of the chancel also echoes Boffrand, who comments in his treatise that, “the wall piers are decorated with a consistent decorative scheme from the floor to the center of the domed ceiling … all around the room, the sculptural ornaments, the moldings, and the woodwork of the furniture are gilt on a white ground.”133 Boffrand may also have partly inspired the solution at Ouro Preto—the concave sides of the retábulo recalls the frames of the mirrors and windows at the Salon de la Princesse and the color scheme is the same as at São João del-Rei—however there the vault ornament places much more emphasis on the figural medallions. The churches at Ouro Preto and São João del-Rei also have the most refined Rococo façade carving in the Luso-Brazilian world (Figs. 4.28–30). Unlike the hard pedra lioz limestone from Portugal that was commonly used on the doorways and windows of churches on the Brazilian coast, they used the much more malleable pedra-sabão, allowing sculptors to achieve the delicacy of stucco.134 At both Ouro Preto and São João del-Rei the most elaborate relief sculpture rests on the door frame, where it serves as a kind of free-form pediment, although both churches also have figural relief panels further up in the façade, at Ouro Preto in an oculus medallion and at São João del-Rei in

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 219

the upper pediment. The façade ornament at São Francisco in Ouro Preto is earlier (the medallion from 1766 and the doorway 1774–1775) and is entirely the work of Lisboa as I have noted whereas that of São João del-Rei is the result of a collaboration between Lisboa and Lima Cerqueira, the latter working on architectural elements such as the corbels and broken entablature, and the bulkier carving on the façade pediment is by Aniceto Lopes (begun 1798).135 Asymmetry only occurs on the Ouro Preto façade—most strikingly in the heraldic shields and in the angels perched on top of the broken pediments— and only on the doorway and not the medallion. I have traced the iconographic models for the façade of São Francisco in Ouro Preto (Fig. 4.29) to the Klauber workshop. The interesting thing is not so much which models Lisboa chose but how he used them. As I will explore more in Chapter 5, Latin American artists did not blindly follow such prototypes but like their European counterparts they created pastiches of different sources that they submitted to their own overall design scheme and the iconographic needs of the patrons and location, and they frequently introduced local landscape or costume elements.136 In the medallion of Saint Francis Receiving the Stigmata, in which Rococo elements are limited to four shell cartouches attached to the otherwise plain, circular frame, Lisboa has referred to a Klauber engraving entitled S. Franciscus in Monte Alverniae … (ca. 1750), but has copied it in reverse and selected only the principal figures of Saint Francis and the Seraphic Cross so that they could be seen clearly from below, treating the latter as a caryatid that fades away into a conglomeration of decorative scrolls.137 Lisboa reduces the landscape of the original yet introduces a recognizable local element in the church: a kind of celebration of Minas Gerais church architecture, it is an amalgamation of structures typical of the region such as canted towers, plain façades with oculus window, and pyramidal steeples. The lower part of the façade relief brings extra pageantry to its iconographical program by combining sacred and profane sources. The first is a small print (again in reverse) of the Virgin Immaculate by Franz Rigl and Joseph Klauber (ca. 1750) (Fig. 4.31).138 Lisboa has preserved the Virgin’s pose and keeps the rose branches, lilies, crown of thorns, and putti, and he transformed the crown of stars into a real crown of bronze. However, clearly upon instruction from his patrons, he has adjusted the image to fit its specific context. He has changed the inscription in the banderole—it appears at the base of the print and at the top of the relief carving—from a quotation from the Book of Revelation and the Canticles to a verse from the Ave Regina Caelorum, a Compline Antiphon from the ordinary time before Lent—“Dignare me laudare te, Virgo sacrata; Da mihi virtutem contra hostes tuos” (“Vouchsafe that I may praise thee, O sacred Virgin; Give me strength against thine enemies”)—a prayer specifically favored by the Franciscan Order because of its associations with the great Franciscan theologian Duns Scotus (1266–1308) and which is said at the Angelus in his honor.139 Lisboa also superimposes the crossed arms of the Franciscan Order onto the crown of thorns.

4.29 Antônio Francisco Lisboa, façade (detail), São Francisco in Ouro Preto, Brazil, begun 1766. Photo courtesy Danielle Sasaki

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 221

4.30 Antônio Francisco Lisboa and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira, façade, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, Brazil, 1785. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa

For the most dynamic part of the carving—the extravagant irregular double shield below the Virgin Mary with the emblem of Christ’s five wounds and the arms of Portugal—Lisboa turns to a profane source, the kind of paired heraldic cartouches often found at the base of portraits of the nobility such as the Prince Bishop Joseph, Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt (ca. 1741–1760) by Gottfried Bernhard Goez and engraved by Johann Baptist and Johann Sebastian Klauber (Fig. 4.32). The cartouches on the print merge on opposing diagonals with oval crests and rich, scalloped shell-work frames, the coquillages at the base bearing a striking resemblance to Lisboa’s solution except that his turn back up over the frames. The print even shares a lintel-like base with the carving although Lisboa has replaced a pair of heraldic lions with angels with symbols of the Passion. Secular portraiture provided an earthly kind of pomp which suited the needs of a façade used as the backdrop for a particularly effusive brand of religious ceremonial, a sensation only intensified by the churches’ unique mast-like towers crowned with finials (Figs. 4.28, 4.30). Elsewhere, as in Central Europe, decorative theatricality is confined to the interiors of churches, as with the heavenly empyrean at Dießen lauded by Augustin Fastl (Fig. 3.39) or the direct references to processions in the painted ceilings depicting pilgrimages at Berg am Laim (Fig. 3.21) or Zwiefalten

222 The Spiritual Rococo

4.31 Franz Rigl, S. Maria virgo semper immaculata (engraving) published by Joseph Klauber, Augsburg, ca. 1750. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung

(Fig. 3.25, Plate 5). But in Portugal and Brazil, perhaps because of their warmer climates, façade decoration may have flourished because it served as a stage set for exterior forms of piety—in fact I suspect that the inclusion of a Brazilian church in the background of the medallion of Saint Francis in the Ouro Preto church is a specific reference to the kind of hagiographic mystery play that took place in front of church façades in Minas Gerais. It may have been the cold northern European weather that sent most of the décor and iconography indoors, as at Dießen, where as we have seen Fastl’s dedicatory sermon on the metaphor of bringing the heavens inside took place in autumn in the pouring rain. This emphasis on processions and other public religious events was especially prominent in Minas Gerais and Bahia, where the brotherhood was the most important social unit. As recent scholarship has demonstrated, every

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 223

4.32 Gottfried Bernhard Goez, Prince Bishop Joseph, Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt (engraving) published by Johann Baptist and Johann Sebastian Klauber, Augsburg, ca. 1741–1760. London, British Museum

stratum of society placed great emphasis on outward expressions of faith, particularly through the brotherhood-sponsored processions that marked the Christian calendar, whether on foundational saints’ days, feast days, and other holy days, as well as festivals celebrating royal births and marriages and those accompanying funereal rites of their members, a central concern of these organizations.140 In fact present-day samba schools, the foundation of the Rio Carnival, began as musical groups accompanying festivals hosted by black brotherhoods in Vila Rica and Bahia, where processions often featured figures dressed as the “King of Congo.”141 In a 1762 description of a festival by a black confraternity in Bahia commemorating the marriage of Maria, princess of Brazil to the prince of Portugal, an observer noted:

224 The Spiritual Rococo

On the afternoon of the sixteenth the Kingdom of Congo set forth, comprised of more than eighty masks with farcical attire and richly adorned with gold. Among them were the King and Queen, [for whom] special places had been set up on a platform of three steps, covered in precious cloths, with two chairs made with green gauze and gold flowers and fringes … After they had both taken their respective seats, they were entertained by the Sobas and the masks of their guard, and later went to dance the talheiras and quicumbis, to the sound of instruments particular to them and their rites.142

Looking at evidence from wills, Kathleen Higgins has shown that members poured as much money into these events as into church building and decorating since they were one of the principal means of advertising social status. In fact in our inability to witness these events taking place in front of these buildings—at least in historical costume since they do continue in contemporary garb—we are missing an important aspect of their “décor,” a lacuna similar to that presented by the lack of original furnishings, or even the costume of the hosts and guests, in Rococo secular interiors. The parts of Brazilian Rococo interiors that most clearly reflected this kind of pageantry were the painted ceilings, which were not as clearly structured as those of Central Europe and did not try to bring the viewer into their space through manipulated perspectives, but which expressed a joyful, triumphal mood through color and an inflated use of decorative elements such as rocailles. These light and optimistic compositions are remarkably close in spirit to frescoes by artists such as Bergmüller (Fig. 3.23), yet like the façades they are pastiches and not copies of specific ceilings: for example while many of them use false architecture, which is ultimately inspired by schemes by Andrea Pozzo widely available in Latin America through his architectural treatise, they never reproduced one of them whole. Rocailles made their first appearance in Brazilian ceiling painting in 1768 in the African confraternity church of Santa Efigênia in Ouro Preto but the finest early example is the 1773–1774 Capela-Mor painting of Bom Jesus do Matosinhos in Congonhas do Campo by Bernardo Pires da Silva, where the central medallion is set into a delicate scaffolding of false architecture formed entirely of rocailles, shellwork, garlands, and scrolls.143 Although a bright blue sky dotted with clouds can be seen through the architectural framework the medallion scene is seen head-on as in an Italian quadro riportato and not using perspective as in the Pozzo or Germanic tradition. Pairs of figures representing scenes from the life of David are distributed around the extremities of the ceiling in sinuous fictitious balconies. The medallion—it represents the Discovery of the Statue of the Crucified Christ by the Fishermen of Matosinhos—illustrates a local legend but derives from a Deposition, as Ribeiro notes, and the false architecture is taken from Augsburg decorative prints such as Habermann’s rectangular cartouches from series 104 or 111 (Fig. 3.9).144 A later phase of perspectival ceilings flourished at the turn of the nineteenth century under the influence of Manuel da Costa Ataíde, the selfstyled “Professor of Painting” from Mariana who executed the nave ceiling at São Francisco in Ouro Preto (Fig. 4.22, Plate 11).145 Ataíde’s style is at

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 225

once more and less architectural than that of Pires da Silva: he anchors the central medallion in a baldachin structure atop four massive piers or columns yet allows the rest of the structure to dissolve into flattened, often floating segments of bulky, vigorous rocaille and shellwork. A particularly exuberant example of this late style is the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa ceiling attributed to Minas painter Manoel do Sacramento (1802) in the Third Order Carmelite church in Mogi das Cruzes, now in the outskirts of Sao Paulo (Fig. 4.33), a testament to the creative use of whatever models the artist had at hand in his scrapbook.146 The central medallion of the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa is actually a modified Saint Scholastica (ca. 1735) by Philipp Andreas Kilian and published by Martin Engelbrecht—a Benedictine saint standing in for a Carmelite one with a quick change of habit.147 The single and paired saints in conversation

4.33 Manoel do Sacramento: The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, Third Order Carmelite church of the Carmo, Mogi das Cruzes, Brazil, 1802. Photo: Author

4.34 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design from series 49 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel, Augsburg, ca. 1750. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung

4.35 Johann Simon Negges, altarpiece design (engraving). Augsburg, ca. 1750. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung

228 The Spiritual Rococo

over the entablatures—popes, bishops, monks, friars, and nuns—come from various hagiographic prints by Kilian and Klauber, their identities often switched to conform with the ceiling’s subject. Even the ornament is made on the fly: unlike the Congonhas do Campo ceiling it does not derive from purpose-made ornamental prints but instead builds its network of shellwork and rocailles from the borders found on holy cards, in this case a mid-century print of Saint Rupert published by Philipp Danner (a bishop based on the figure of Rupert appears among the saints lining both sides of the ceiling). Thus a handful of rocailles on a print the size of a banknote is transformed into a massive feigned architectural frame filling an entire ceiling (Fig. 3.11). The ornamental ceilings of Sao Paulo and the more remote parts of Minas Gerais (especially Diamantina), some from as late as 1830, are among the latest manifestations of the Rococo in the world.148 In Portugal Rococo never departed significantly from the heaviness of indigenous Baroque thanks to the predominance of the gilded talha tradition and perhaps also (especially on façade décor) the use of granite instead of the malleable pedra-sabão of Minas Gerais. Portuguese Rococo was sufficiently ponderous, particularly in the north, that people welcomed the clean lines of Neoclassicism at the same time that Rococo was at its height in Brazil. The most dramatic example of this development may be the pilgrimage church of Bom Jesus do Monte outside Braga (by Carlos Luís Ferreira Amarante, 1784–1811), a severe essay on right angles and flat surfaces mounted atop what is arguably the most vivacious Rococo staircase ever built. One of the reasons Rococo lasted so long in Brazil was that it became the preferred style of the Enlightenment-minded bourgeoisie and independence movement from the time of the Inconfidência Mineira as well as (ironically) the translated monarchy in early nineteenth-century Rio de Janeiro. The leading intellectuals of the day read the latest philosophical and religious treatises from Paris and modeled their lives and their approach to religion on their examples while members of confraternities of every stripe sought to keep up with the latest fashions from Europe. As we will also see in Chapter 5, reformist Latin Americans did not associate Rococo with decadence as in Europe but appreciated it for its clarity of form, bright colors, and aura of optimism, a dramatic break from Baroque interiors and an aesthetic long associated with the oppressiveness of colonialism. But on a more basic level the style appealed to a world in which societal display was focused on the church and the space in front of it, a style that could at once project a sensation of religious pageantry and an appreciation of good taste.

Notes 1

From a description by the late eighteenth-century vereador (councilor) of Mariana (Minas Gerais, Brazil) of the Rococo style newly introduced into the city by the sculptor and architect Antônio Francisco Lisboa (known as Aleijadinho). Quoted in Germain Bazin, L’architecture religieuse baroque au Brésil (Paris, 1956) I, 323.

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 229

2

Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, O rococó religioso no Brasil e seus antecedentes europeus (Sao Paulo, 2003): 13. See Margarete Baur-Heinhold, Süddeutsche Fassadenmalerei von Mittelaltar bis zur Gegenwart (Munich, 1952).

3

Monalisa Pavonne Oliveira, “O compromisso da Irmandade do Santíssimo Sacramento da Freguesia de Nossa Senhora do Pilar de Ouro Preto (1738),“ Revista Cantareira 16 (2011): 2; Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, “A escola mineira de imaginária e suas particularidades,” in Beatriz Coehlo, ed., Devoção e arte: imaginária religiosa em Minas Gerais (Sao Paulo, 2005): 1921; Kathleen J. Higgins, Licentious Liberty in a Brazilian Gold-Mining Region (University Park, 1999): 102; C.R. Boxer, The Golden Age of Brazil (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1962): 54; Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, 169.

4

Maria Renata da Cruz Duran, Ecos do pulpito: oratório sagrada no tempo de D. João VI (Sao Paulo, 2010): 25.

5

The style, known as “Pombalista,” did affect the exteriors of churches in Rio de Janeiro, the city most closely linked with Lisbon, but interiors continued to display the lighter, more cheerful autochthonous Rococo. On the philosophical aftermath of the earthquake see: Anthony Pagden, The Enlightenment and Why it Still Matters (New York, 2013): 112–16.

6

These collections are included in Appendix B. The three-volume inventory of da Cunha’s library is in the Biblioteca Nacional in Rio de Janeiro (BNRJ, I-14,4,11–13) as is the Royal collection (BNRJ, 65,2,2,1; 65,3,2,6) and that of Pontenevel is published in Marina Massimi, “Um importante corpo documentário para a reconstrução da história da cultura no Brasil colonial: os acervos da oratória sagrada, Memorandum 10 (2006): 54–64. The library of the Canons Regular is now part of the University Library in Coimbra.

7

Ferdinand Azevedo, “Teodoro de Almeida: A Religious Orator of the Portuguese Enlightenment,” Luso-Brazilian Review 16, 2 (Winter, 1979): 239; J Vaz de Carvalho, “Viera, António” in Charles E. O’Neill and Joaquín M. Domínguez, Diccionario histórico de la Compañía de Jesús I (Rome and Madrid, 2001): IV, 3950.

8

Azevedo, “Teodoro de Almeida, 240. See also Kenneth Maxwell, “Eighteenth-Century Portugal: Faith and Reason, Tradition and Innovation during a Golden Age,” in Lay A. Levenson, The Age of the Baroque in Portugal (Washington, 1993): 111; Duran, Ecos, 83–4.

9

Luís A. de Oliveira Ramos, Os Beneditinos e a cultura: ressonâncias da ilustração (Porto, 1984): 165–6.

10

Azevedo, “Teodoro de Almeida,” 240.

11

Pedro Calafate, “La question de la méthode portugaise et de la méthode française de prédication au XVIIIe siècle au Portugal,” in Saulo Neiva, ed., La France et le monde luso-brésilien (ClermontFerrand, 2005): 341. The Mariana revolutionary Canon Luís Vieira da Silva (about whom more below) owned a copy of Alletz’s book at the time of his library’s seizure by the royal government in 1789 [Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI (Belo Horizonte, 1982): 91, 317].

12

“The increase in affectionate language within the family more broadly, which has been observed in eighteenth-century correspondence elsewhere in Europe, suggests that a language of sensibility had penetrated the Hispanic world. The transformed vocabulary of husbands and wives perhaps hints at broader changes in family relations in eighteenth-century Spain and Spanish America” [Rebecca Earle, “Letters and Love in Colonial Spanish America,” The Americas 62, 1 (July 2005): 40]. On a greater emphasis on eloquence in preaching in Rio de Janeiro see Duran, Ecos, 84.

13 Duran, Ecos, 14, 73. 14 Duran, Ecos, 32–3. 15

Azevedo “Teodoro de Almeida,” 242–5.

16

Calafate, “La question de la méthode portugaise,” 344; Malato, “Teodoro de Almeida,” 213–16.

17

Theodoro de Almeida, O feliz independente do mundo e da fortuna ou arte de viver contente em quaesquer trabalhos da vida I (1779): v. Although at one time a favorite of Louis XIV, Fénelon lost favor with the King after the publication of Télémaque, a guide to kingship for Louis’ grandson (Louis de France, 1682–1712) in which he criticized absolute rule and wars of aggression [F.L. Cross and E.A. Livingstone, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church (Oxford, 1997): 605].

18

Zulmira C. Santos, Vícios, virtudes e paixões: da novela como ‘catecismo’ no século XVIII,” Revista de Estudios Ibéricos 3 (2006): 188; Zulmira C. Santos, “O Feliz Independente do P.e Teodoro de Almeida: a teoria literária como forma de cultura no século XVIII,” Revista da Facultade de Letras, Linguas, e Literaturas 1 (1987): 179, 189; Robert Ricard, “Sur la diffusion des oeuvres du P.e Teodoro de Almeida, Boletim International de Bibliografia Luso-Brasileira IV (Oct–Dec 1963): 626–30; Maria Luísa Malato Borralho, “Teodoro de Almeida,” in Luís de Oliveira Ramos et al, eds, Estudios em homenagem a João Francisco Marques I (Porto, 2001): 213–17. Five Portuguese editions appeared between 1779 and 1861, and four Spanish editions were published between 1779 and 1786 alone, with eight more at the end of the century and the beginning of the next. The book was also widely

230 The Spiritual Rococo

disseminated in Spanish America. On the reception of Almeida’s work in Poland see: Gerhard Seibert, “500 Years of the Manuscript of Valentin Fernandes, a Moravian Book Printer in Lisbon,” in Beata Elżbieta Cieszyńska, ed, Iberian and Slavonic Cultures: Contact and Comparison (Lisbon, 2007): 79–88. 19

Santos, “O Feliz,” 184.

20

Almeida, O feliz independente I, iv–v.

21

Santos, “O Feliz,” 182; Santos, “Vicios,” 193–4; Pedro Serra, “Aesthetics and Ideology in Queirós’s A Cidade e as Serras,” CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture 11.3 (2009): 4. Darin McMahon, Happiness: a History (New York, 2006): 238–9.

22

Almeida, O feliz independente I, iii, 21.

23

Almeida, O feliz independente I, 7–8.

24

Santos, “Vicios,” 189–90.

25

Almeida, O feliz independente I, 24.

26

Malato, “Teodoro de Almeida,” 215; Almeida, O feliz independente I, ix.

27

Almeida, O feliz independente III (1779): viii; See also Santos, “O Feliz,” 186.

28

Almeida, O feliz independente I, 262–5.

29

Vanda Anastácio, “Cherchez la femme (à propos d’une forme de sociabilité littéraire à Lisbonne à la fin du XVIIIème siècle,” Arquivos do Centro Cultural Português, XLIX (2005): 7.

30

On Mariana de Arriaga see Anastácio, “Cherchez la femme,” 97.

31

Anastácio, “Cherchez la femme,” 5.

32

Anastácio, “Cherchez la femme,” 1–2.

33

Anastácio, “Cherchez la femme,” 4.

34

Kenneth Maxwell, Conflicts and Conspiracies, 1750–1808 (London, 2004): 86, see also 90.

35

José de Monterroso Teixeira, Aleijadinho, o teatro da fé (Sao Paulo, 2007): 22–3. On Costa see “Claudio Manoel da Costa (Noticia biographica),” Revista do Archivo Publico Mineiro I, 2 (April–June 1896): 357–99; Fernando Jorge, O Aleijadinho: sua vida, sua obra, sua época, seu gênio. Sao Paulo, 1949.

36 Maxwell, Conflicts, 95, 97; Teixeira, Aleijadinho, 23. 37

Vieira da Silva’s library was inventoried at the time of his arrest in 1789 [Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI, 85–92, 307–21] See also Teixeira, Aleijadinho, 23, 25; Andre Figueiredo Rodrigues, “Estudio econômico da Conjuração Mineira: análise dos seqüestros de bens dos inconfidentes da comarca do Rio das Mortes,” unpublished dissertation, University of Sao Paulo (2008): 59, 61; Paulo Gomes Leite, “Revolução e heresia na biblioteca de um advogado de Mariana,” Acervo 8, 1–2 (1995): 153–66; E. Bradford Burns, “The Enlightenment in two Colonial Brazilian Libraries,” Journal of the History of Ideas, 25, 3 (July–September 1964): 430–32. The poet Cláudio Manuel da Costa’s library is inventoried in Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI, 97–9.

38

Burns, “Enlightenment,” 431. Correia da Toledo e Melo’s library is inventoried in Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI, 346–50 and Rodrigues da Costa in Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI, 438–40.

39

Marina Massimi, “Um importante corpo documentário para a reconstrução da história da cultura no Brasil colonial: os acervos da oratória sagrada,” 54–64; Luiz Carlos Villalta, “O diabo na livraria dos Inconfidentes,” in Adauto Novaes, ed., Tempo e História (Sao Paulo, 1992): 372–5.

40

See Angela Brandão, “Dom Frei Domingos da Encarnação Pontével: um exemplo de mecenato diocesano,” Revista electronica de história do Brasil, 9, 2 (July–December 2007): 4–15.

41

A.J.R. Russell-Wood, “Portugal and the World in the Age of Dom João V,” in Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 28.

42

Russell-Wood, “Portugal and the World,” 15–16; Angela Delaforce, Art and Patronage in EighteenthCentury Portugal (Cambridge, 2002): 33–66.

43

Russell-Wood, “Portugal and the World,” 16; Angela Delaforce, “Lisbon, ‘This New Rome’: Dom João V of Portugal and Relations between Rome and Lisbon,” in Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 72–3.

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 231

44

Russell-Wood, “Portugal and the World,” 17. Also important at Mafra was Italian master stone mason Carlo Battista Garvo [A. Ayres de Carvalho, “Dom Joao V and the Artists of Papal Rome,” in Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 36–7]. See also Delaforce, “Lisbon, ‘This New Rome,’” 60–61. On Joao’s enthusiasm for Italian sculpture see Jennifer Montagu, “Joao V and Italian Sculpture,” in Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 81–7.

45

Ayres de Carvalho, “Dom João V,” 38; Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 50; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 141; Robert C. Smith, Frei José de Santo António Ferreira Vilaça: Escultor beneditino do século XVIII (Lisbon, 1972) I, 184.

46 Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 33. 47

Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 42–4; Peter Fuhring, “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons,” in Sarah D. Coffin et al., eds, Rococo: the Continuing Curve (New York, 2008): 28; Marie-Thérèse Mandroux-França, “La collection royale portugaise,” in Pierre-Jean Mariette, Catalogues de la collection d’estampes de Jean V, roi de Portugal (Marie-Thérèse Mandroux-França ed., Lisbon/Paris, 2003): I, 88.

48

Ayres de Carvalho, “Dom João V,” 37.

49

Peter Fuhring, Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier: un génie du Rococo (Turin and London, 1999): II, 191–2, 360–61. Fuhring believes that they are from the Prince’s apartments but Delaforce suggests that they are for the Queen’s Hall of Mirrors [Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 50–51. See also MandrouxFrança, “La collection royale portugaise,” I, 81, 90].

50 Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 50. 51

Peter Fuhring, Designing the Décor: French Drawings from the Eighteenth Century (Lisbon, 2006): 92–5; Mandroux-França, “La collection royale portugaise,” I, 89. The fauteuil de trône was modeled after the silver throne of Louis XV.

52

Mandroux-França, “La collection royale portugaise,” I, 87–8, 265–6. On Germain see Leonor d’Orey, The Silver Table Service of Dom José I of Portugal,” in Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 167–72.

53

See Robert Smith, The Art of Portugal (New York, 1968): 106–7; Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 303–13; Helmut Wohl, “Portuguese Baroque Architecture,” in Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 141–3; 158; Natália Brito Correia Guedes, O palácio dos senhores do infantado em Queluz (Lisbon, 1971); Simonetta Luz Afonso and Angela Delaforce, Palace of Queluz: The Gardens (Lisbon, 1989).

54

Smith’s disdain for his “silversmith’ architecture” recalls the criticism over Meissonnier’s elevation for Saint-Sulpice in Paris [Smith, The Art of Portugal, 107].

55

Robert C. Smith, A talha em Portugal (Lisbon, 1962), 133.

56 Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 91–3; Mandroux-França, “La collection royale portugaise,” I, 11, 45–6, 55–6. The original letter from Diogo Mendoça a Corte Real to da Cunha from 12 July 1724 reads: “Sa Majesté désire que Votre Seigneurie fasse une collection complète de toutes les estampes qui ont été exécutées dans ce Royaume (France) depuis trente ans et les envoie à Lisbonne” [p. 241]. 57

Mandroux-França, “La collection royale portugaise,” I, 58, 70. The inventory of works belonging to the Casa do Infantado in the Biblioteca Nacional in Rio de Janeiro (the books belonging to the second son of the King) lists a volume entitled “Relação das estampas que van p[ar]a S[ua] Alteza,” and a two-volume Recueil d’estampes qui sont en France dans le Cabinet du Roi, de le Duc d’Orleans, et d’autres cabinets, published in Paris [BNRJ, 47-8-16, 7a; 18a].

58

Philippe Rouillard, “Étude des Notes Manuscrites de Pierre-Jean Mariette,” in Mariette, Catalogues, I, 375–421; Marie-Thérèse Mandroux-França, “Information artistique et ‘mass media’ au XVIIIe siècle: la diffusion de l’ornement gravé rococo au Portugal,” in Actas do Congresso ‘A arte em Portugal no século XVIII’ I (Braga, 1973): 423–4; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 141.

59 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 142; Smith, A talha, 104–6. 60

Mandroux-França, “Information artistique,” 416–17.

61

The inventory numbers are the following: Babel [MNAA, 4647–52]; Baillon [MNAA, 7093–7]; Cornille [MNAA, 4783–95]; Delafosse [MNAA, 2601, 4243–4, 4269–70, 4188–205]; Mondon [MNAA, 5506–8]; Peyrotte [MNAA, 4811–93]; Pillement [MNAA, 5509–13].

62

Mandroux-França, “Information artistique,” 417.

63

Mandroux-França, “Information artistique,” 419–20.

64

Mandroux-França, “Information artistique,” 422–4; Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino, I 193–4; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 141; J.B. Bury, “Late Baroque and Rococo in North Portugal,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 15, 3 (October, 1956): 10. On the influence of the Klaubers in Latin America more generally see Santiago Sebastián, “La influencia germanica de los Klauber en Hispanoamérica,” Boletín del Centro de Investigaciones Históricas y Estéticas 14 (1972): 61–74.

232 The Spiritual Rococo

65 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 202–5. 66

Mandroux-França, “Information artistique,” 418. For the spiritual treatises see Appendix B. The main work on Tibães is Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino.

67

Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino I, 100–152, 339–40; Mandroux-França, “Information artistique,” figs 1–10, 419, 426–7.

68

Smith has traced pulpits in the Benedictine monasteries of Pombeiro, Santo Tirso, Nossa Senhora da Agonia in Viana do Castelo to versions of Habermann/Hertel folio 119 as published (in reverse) in Blondel’s edition of Vignola [Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino II, 217–23]. See also MandrouxFrança, “Information artistique,” 129.

69 BNRJ, E: g: I (Marie-Michelle Blondel, Trophées de couronnes et des casques de fantasie, number two from a set of eight engravings); E: g: ? (Gabriel Huquier, Premier livre de vases inventés par Edmé Bouchardon, sculpteur du Roy, 140 engravings); E: g: II (Gabriel Huquier, Livre de cartouches inventés par François Boucher, 12 engravings); E: g: I (Pierre Aveline, Premier livre de groups d’enfans gravé par Aveline, par F. Boucher peintre du Roy, six engravings); E: g: II (Pierre Aveline, “La barque chinoise” after Boucher, single engraving); E: g: I (François Collinon, Recueil de douze cartouches, number four from a series of 12); E: g: I (Pierre Aveline, “Malice de singe,” after Huet.); E: g: I (Gabriel Huquier, Chinese figures without title, four engravings); E: g: I, II (Antoine Watteau, various figural scenes). 70

José Zephyrino de Menezes Brum, Estampas gravadas por Guilherme Francisco Lourenço Debrie (Rio de Janeiro, 1908).

71

Selma Melo Miranda, A igreja de São Francisco de Assis em Diamantina (Brasilia, 2009): 107, 118–19.

72

Arquivo Eclesiástico da Arquidiocese de Diamantina, Inventário do pintor Caetano Luiz de Miranda, n.d., f. 35a. I am indebted to Nelson Kon for making scans of this list available to me.

73

Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 207; Teixeira, Aleijadinho, 32, 50, 103, 149–50; Rubem Amaral Júnior, “Emblematica Mariana no Convento de São Francisco de Salvador, Bahia, e seus modelos europeus,” Lumen et Virtus I/3 (2010): 107–30. Most studies have focused on the influence of illustrated bibles and missals from Antwerp, some of them from the eighteenth century, for example a 1744 missal that survives in the Chapel of Padre Farias in the city of Ouro Preto and the Adoration of the Shepherds which Delson Aguinaldo de Araujo Junior has identified as the model for Manoel Antonio da Fonseca’s Adoration of the Shepherds in the Matriz in Itaponhoacanga in Minas Gerais. But again these works show no trace of Rococo decorative elements [Delson Aguinaldo de Araujo Júnior, “Estampas como inspiração para a pintura em Minas Gerais,” V Encontro de história da arte – IFCH/UNICAMP (2009): 144–57]. On the importance of Augsburg prints more generally on Brazilian perspective ceiling painting see Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 274–93.

74

Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 141–62; Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira and Fátima Justiniano, Barroco e Rococó nas igrejas do Rio de Janeiro (Brazilia, 2008): I, 143.

75

On this church see: Disperati Gallas, Fernanda and Alfredo O. G. Gallas. O barroco do reinado de D. João V: arquitetura, moedas e medalhas (Sao Paulo, 2012): 102–13.

76

Bury, “Late Baroque and Rococo,” 7.

77

Gallas and Gallas. O barroco do reinado de D. João V, 92–113; Wohl, “Portuguese Baroque Architecture,” 144; Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 256; Smith, The Art of Portugal, figs 102–4. On Nasoni see Bury, “Late Baroque and Rococo,” 7–15; José Fernandes Pereira, Estética Barroca I: Arquitectura e escultura (Lisbon, 2009): 70; Smith, Art of Portugal, 131.

78

Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 188–9; Ribeiro and Justiniano, Barroco e Rococó I, 142; III, 23; Pereira, Estética Barroca I, 55.

79

Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 270; Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino, I, 51.

80

Gallas and Gallas, O barroco, 54–63; Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino, I, 43; Robert C. Smith, “Baroque and Rococo Braga: Documenting Eighteenth-Century Architecture and Sculpture in Northern Portugal,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 115, 3 (June 17, 1971): 214–20; Manuel Joaquim Moreira da Rocha, “A propósito de André Soares e do rococo-nótulas para a revisão de um processo,” Portugalia XVII–XVIII (1996–1997): 284.

81 Smith, Art of Portugal, 108; see also Pereira, Estética Barroca I, 78–9; Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 273. 82

For earlier attributions to this and others of Soares’s motifs see: Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino, I, 49, 184–93; 193–6, 241; ill 35–42; Wohl, “Portuguese Baroque Architecture,” 150; Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 270.

83

Wohl, “Portuguese Baroque Architecture,” 150–51; Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino, I, 46–9; 227–9.

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 233

84

The École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris has one of the largest collections of these engravings, including loose sheets from Second livre de cartouches [Est. Les. 60b: fols. 1–8]; and one Rosette pour des commodes [Est. Les. 20b, fol. 26]. See my “French Rococo Prints and EighteenthCentury Altarpieces in Buenos Aires,” The Burlington Magazine 1316, CLIV (November, 2012): 782–3, figs 44–5.

85 Smith, Vilaça: Escultor beneditino, I, 228, figs 56–7; Delaforce, Art and Patronage, 276. 86

Maxwell, “Eighteenth-Century Portugal,” 112, 127–9. Brazil had a population of 3,248,000 in 1798 compared to Portugal’s 3,400,000. Robin Blackburn, The Making of New World Slavery (London and New York, 1997): 486.

87

Kenneth Maxwell, Conflicts, 62–4; 82.

88 Boxer, Golden Age, 54; Higgins, Licentious Liberty, 102; Monalisa Pavonne Oliveira, “O compromisso da Irmandade do Santíssimo Sacramento da Freuesia de Nossa Senhora do Pilar de Ouro Preto (1738),” 2; Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 169. 89

Higgins, Licentious Liberty, 88. See also Caio César Boschi, Os leigos e o poder: irmandades leigas e política colonizadora em Minas Gerais (São Paulo, 1986): 12–20; A.J.R. Russell-Wood, “Prestige, Power, and Piety in Colonial Brazil: The Third Orders of Salvador,” The Hispanic American Historical Review 69, 1 (February 1989): 62, 64.

90 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 167–8; Higgins, Licentious Liberty, 104–5; Russell-Wood, “Prestige, Power, and Piety,” 67–9; Patricia A. Mulvey, “Slave Confraternities in Brazil: Their Role in Colonial Society,” The Americas, 39, 1 (July 1982): 39–40; Cassia Farnezi Pereira, “Vida religiosa e mundanças sociais no Distrito Diamantino nos séculos XVIII e XIX,” Anais do XXVI Simpósio Nacional de História – ANPUH (Sao Paulo, 2011): 1–2, 60. Mulvey’s appendix lists 165 black brotherhoods, the most prominent of which was the Confraternity of the Rosary [pp. 60, 63, 66–8]. 91 Boschi, Os leigos e o poder, 183–248; Higgins, Licentious Liberty, 100–101; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 168. 92

Farnezi Pereira, “Vida religiosa,” 2; Russell-Wood, “Prestige, Power and Piety,” 79–80; Mulvey, “Slave Confraternities,” 40–60; Manoel S. Cardozo, “The Lay Brotherhoods of Colonial Bahia,” Catholic Historical Review, 33: 1 (April 1947): 23.

93 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 169–73. 94

Ribeiro and Justiniano, Barroco e Rococó, II, 41–2.

95

The full description reads: “Visita: Aos vinte seis dias do mes de decembro de mil sete ciento sesenta e seis annos no cidade do Rio de Janeiro em a capella de Nossa Senhora May dos homems onde eu o Hermano Mayor da la mesa ecclesiastica fui vindo junto com o muito Reverendo Rector Joze Correia vigario collado na Igreja da Santa Rita desta mesma cidade, que tambem serve de Promotor deste diceso ecclesiastico comissario nomeado por Sua E.xa Ill.ma para visitar a sobredita capella da mesma senhora a qual acho eu feita de pedra e cal so o arco da Capella Mor, e dahi para fora em paredes de tijolo cuberta em forma, acaba digo cuberta en forma concha coro bem preparado tendo a dita capella de arco para dentro pellas margems duas tribunas de cada banda o teto da capella bem pintado com huma targa no [me]io de Nossa Senhora feita com aceio; como tambem tem a capella mor huma tribuna de madeira feita de talha que a de ficar para sempre na qual se a de collocar a mesma Senhora a qual Tribuna se acha em madeira sem pintura alguma e nas bandas huma credencia de cada parte, tem huma sachristia a huma banda tambem de pedra e cal; a acabada concha a ver muito bem feito de vinhatico jacarandão da outra parte hum consistorio tambem de pedra, e cal pelas bandas, tudo em boa ordem, e bom repostido acho eu a dita capella em lugar decente e sirve dos usos domesticos, e que se ha acabado com perfeicão e de nella se pode celebrar a santo sacrificio da Missa e mais culto divino … [signed] Joze Vasques” [ACMRJ, AK 028 I (26 Dec 1766)].

96

Ribeiro and Justiniano, Barroco e Rococó, 42.

97

In the introduction to his Memórias para servir à história do Reino do Brasil (1820) chronicler Luis Gonçalves dos Santos was still referring to Rococo décor in churches such as Conceição e Boa Morte, Igreja Conventual do Carmo, Ordem Teceira do Carmo, Nossa Senhora Mãe dos Homems, and São Pedro dos Clérigos as “talha moderna” [Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 183; see also pp. 187–8]. See also Bazin, L’architecture religieuse I, 214–15.

98 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 188–9; Ribeiro and Justiniano, Barroco e Rococó, I, 150. 99 AGS, G. 4161. 100 See José Santos, Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé (Rio de Janeiro, 2009), especially the article by Myriam Ribeiro: “O rococó na Igreja do Carmo da Antiga Sé” (pp. 107–21). In that article (p. 117) she notes its similarity to the Queluz salon.

234 The Spiritual Rococo

101 Ribeiro, “O rococó na igreja do Carmo,” 109. 102 Ribeiro and Justiniano, Barroco e Rococó, I, 59–61, 156; Ribeiro, O rococó religoso, 185, 190–91. See also José Santos, Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé (Rio de Janeiro, 2009); Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 301. 103 Ribeiro, “O rococó na igreja do Carmo,” 109. 104 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 285; Smith, The Art of Portugal, 48; Percival Tirapeli, Igrejas Barrocas do Brasil (Sao Paulo, 2008): 56–7. See Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa, A talha ornamental barroca na igreja conventual franciscana de Salvador (Sao Paulo, 2010). 105 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 287; Teixiera, Aleijadinho, 46. 106 Percival Tirapeli and Wolfgang Pfeiffer, As mais belas igrejas do Brasil (Sao Paulo, 2001): 176–7; Leonardo Dantas Silva, Pernambuco preservado (Recife, 2002): 204; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 204; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 198–9; Bazin, “L’architecture religieuse,” I, 288. 107 Silva, Pernambuco Preservado, 204; Tirapeli, Igrejas Barrocas, 56. 108 SSA, Klauber 2 Kst 224.104a; SGSM, VS 9637. 109 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 142–50. 110 AGS, G. 4136. 111 AGS, G. 10626. Bazin comments “Le fronton, crêté de flammes, reflète l’influence chinoise, si sensible sur le Rococo portugais” [Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 148]. 112 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 169; Maxwell, Conflicts, 93. 113 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I 186. See Fernando Jorge. O Aleijadinho: sua vida, sua obra, sua época, seu gênio. Sao Paulo, 1949. 114 It is beyond the scope of this book to deal with the Aleijadinho “problem.” For recent works with varying attributions and presentations of Aleijadinho and his myth see: Teixeira, Aleijadinho, 14–17; Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, “Antônio Francisco Lisboa: de herói romantic a mito da nacionalidade,” in Teixeira, Aleijadino, 12–17; Márcio Jardim et al., O Aleijadinho: Catálogo geral da obra, inventário das coleções públicas e particulares (Sao Paulo, 2011); Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, Os passos de Congonhas e suas restaurações (Brasilia, 2011); Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, Aleijadinho e sua oficina: o catálogo das esculturas devocionais (Rio de janeiro, 2008); Rodrigues, “Características,” 135–9; Tim Benton and Nicola Durbridge, “‘O Aleijadinho’: Sculptor and Architect,” in Catherine King, ed., Views of Difference: Different Views of Art (New Haven, 1999): 172–7. 115 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 204–5, 326. 116 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 170–72; Sylvio de Vasconcellos, “A arquitetura colonial mineira,” in Primeiro Seminário de Estados Mineiros (Belo Horizonte, 1957): 59–77; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 213–14. 117 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 181–2. 118 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 174–5; Ribeiro, “Antônio Francisco Lisboa,” 16; Teixeira, Aleijadinho, 29, 113. See also Olinto Rodrigues dos Santos Filho, “Características específicas e escultores identificados,” in Beatriz Coehlo, ed., Devoção e arte: imaginária religiosa em Minas Gerais (Sao Paulo, 2005): 139. 119 See note 1. 120 Benton and Durbridge, “O Aleijadinho,” 156. 121 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 219; Benedito Lima de Toledo, Esplendor do barroco luso-brasileiro (Sao Paulo, 2012): 206–10; Benton and Durbridge, “O Aleijadinho,” 158; Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 194–5. 122 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 223; Tirapeli, Igrejas barrocas, 264. 123 Benton and Durbridge, “O Aleijadinho,” 156. 124 Benton and Durbridge, “O Aleijadinho,” 158. 125 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 196, 321–6; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 249–70. 126 Benton and Durbridge, “O Aleijadinho,” 156. 127 Rodrigues, “Características,” 135. 128 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 193, 199; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 223–5.

“Irregular Ornament in the Finest French Taste” 235

129 Almeida, O Feliz independente, I, 8. 130 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 195. 131 Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 191, 95. See also Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 222; The side altars at Ouro Preto date from 1829 but are after Aleijadinho’s designs. 132 See Germain Boffrand, Livre d’architecture (Paris, 1745): plates LXIX–LXX. 133 Boffrand, Livre d’architecture, 86. 134 Robert C Smith, “Arte barroca de Portugal e de Brasil,” Revista Panorama 38 (1949): 1–22; Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 225–7. 135 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 233; Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 203–6. 136 There is an extensive literature on copying prints in colonial Latin America. A selective bibliography follows: M. Fajardo de Rueda, “Del grabado europeo a la pintura americana,” Historelo 3/5 (2011): 191–214; Clara Bargellini, “Difusión de modelos: grabados y pinturas flamencos e italianos en territorios americanos,” in Juana Gutiérrez Haces, ed.: Pintura de los Reinos: Identidades Compartidas. Territorios del Mundo Hispánico, siglos XVI-XVIII (Madrid 2010): 964–1007; G.A. Vives Mejía, “El arte colonial y los grabados,” Desde la Sala 16 (2010): 58–60; M.C. García Sáiz, “La interpretación de los modelos europeos en las artes de tradición indígena,” in A. Bustamante García et al., eds, Felipe II y el Arte de su Tiempo (Madrid 1999): 293–303; A. Castelli, “La importancia de la imprenta Plantin para la América Colonial,” Histórica XX/2 (1996): 313–22; Ramón Gutiérrez, “Los circuitos de la obra de arte. Artistas, mecenas, comitentes, usuarios, y comerciantes,” in Ramón Gutiérrez, ed., Pintura, Escultura, y Artes Útiles en Iberoamérica, 1500–1825 (Madrid 1995): 51–82; Luisa Elena Alcalá, “Las imágenes de Jerónimo Nadal y un retablo novohispano,” Anales del Instituto de Investigaciones Estéticas XVI/64 (1993): 47–55. 137 There is a copy of this print in the British Museum (1869,0410.1627). 138 SGSM, VS9509. 139 Margaret Ruith Miles, ed., Maiden and Mother: Prayers, Hymns, Devotions, and Songs and Devotions to Honour the Blessed Virgin Mary (London, 2001): 56, 139. Pamfilo de Magliano, The Life of Saint Francis of Assisi and a Sketch of the Franciscan Order (New York, 1867): 347. 140 Higgins, Licentious Liberty, 89–119. 141 Maria Lúcia Montes, “African Cosmologies in Brazilian Culture and Society,” in Edward J. Sullivan, ed., Brazil Body & Soul (New York, 2001): 340–44. 142 Quoted in Montes, “African Cosmologies,” 340. 143 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 218, 274–5; Ribeiro, O Aleijadino, 37–45; Bazin, L’architecture religieuse, I, 208–9. 144 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 275–6. 145 Ribeiro, O rococó religioso, 279–81. 146 Percival Tirapeli, Igrejas Paulistas: Barroco e Rococó (São Paulo, 2003): 254–9. 147 SSA, Killian 104. 148 Miranda, A igreja de São Francisco, 99–121.

5 “O Happy Vision!”:1 Spiritual Rococo in Spain and Spanish South America

Rococo reached the Spanish Southern Cone (present-day Argentina, Paraguay, and Chile) via all four geographic regions in this book: from France through prints and in at least one case actual boiseries, from Central Europe through artists, architects, and engravings, and from Portugal and Brazil through furniture and itinerant retablo makers.2 Of all of these the Germanic conduit was arguably the most important: Southern South America witnessed the largest influx of Germanic émigré architects, sculptors, painters, and craftsmen in the history of colonial Latin America. Rococo also owes its success in the Southern Cone to the relative youth of its urban centers and religious foundations when compared to more established colonial centers in the central and northern Andes and Central America. A smaller population of criollos (native-born whites) and mestizos and a larger number of new immigrants from throughout Catholic Europe—not just Germanic lands but Italy and elsewhere—meant that the region’s churches acquired a more European appearance. Buenos Aires is a case in point: it became one of the epicenters of Rococo décor during an intensive population and building boom in the decades leading up to the city’s elevation to capital of the new Viceroyalty of Río de la Plata in 1776. Beginning with the 1710–1734 reconstruction of the Jesuit church of San Ignacio (Fig. 5.11)—the largest in the city—by German architects Johannes Kraus (1660–1714), Johannes Wolff (1691–1752), and Peter Weger (1693–1733), as well as the Lombards Giovanni Battista Primoli (1637–1747) and Andrea Bianchi (1677–1740), architects and sculptors from all over Catholic Europe flocked to the city to build and furnish its 17 new or expanded churches.3 Accompanying this influx of Rococo models and artists was a profound enthusiasm for French spiritual literature: sermons and treatises of the Spiritual Rococo and sets of the works of writers from Louis Bourdaloue and Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet to Jean-Baptiste Massillon and Louis-Antoine Caraccioli graced ecclesiastical and lay libraries from distant mission posts to major urban centers. They were particularly sought after by the Jesuits and Mercedarians, the leading preaching orders, and as extant

238 The Spiritual Rococo

5.1 Cristóbal Clemente, High Altar retablo, Compañía, Cuzco, Peru, 1670. Photo: Author

manuscript sermons attest their theology of optimism and happiness echoed from their pulpits. In contrast to Portugal’s relationship with the arts of Brazil, Spain did not share its colony’s predilection for Rococo church décor—in fact even the more established parts of Latin America such as New Spain or Peru largely rejected the style in an ecclesiastical setting. Rococo church décor enjoyed a brief florescence in Spain in the 1760s and 1770s but it never displaced indigenous Baroque forms such as massive, gilded, ornament-saturated retablos, Solomonic columns (introduced into Andalusia in 1630), or a uniquely Spanish form called an estípite (a support shaped like an upside-down pyramid or a table leg, borrowed from Wendel Dietterlin’s Architectura, 1598).4 The Solomonic retablo reached its apogee in the last decade of the seventeenth century with works like José de Churriguerra’s high altar retablo at San Esteban in Salamanca (1692) and was especially popular in South America, as in the high altar of the Compañía in Cuzco (1670) by Cristóbal Clemente (Fig. 5.1).5 The style known as “Estípite-barroco,” never very popular in South America, developed simultaneously in Seville and Mexico City in the work of Jerónimo de Balbás (1680–1748) and is epitomized by the suite of retablos at the Jesuit novitiate church of Tepotzotlán (1756–1757).6 Estípite columns are by their very nature anti-structural, an aggregate of joined segments, whether the eponymous table-leg forms or dissected classical capitals.7 Even more radical are the atectonic so-called anástilo retablos, which discard all architectural elements in an abstraction of layered zigzags and mixtilinear forms lavished with ornament as at the high altar retablo of the convent church of La Enseñanza in Mexico City (1762–1778; Fig. 5.2).8 These bulky retablos could not be more alien to the gentle aesthetics of the Rococo, except

“O Happy Vision!” 239

in its northern Portuguese variant as we have seen where Rococo features were superimposed uneasily on similar indigenous forms (Figs. 4.4, 4.5). In Spain Rococo motifs served merely as embellishments of Estípite-Baroque retablos.9 They appear most commonly as framing devices, on spandrels or panels, on supports for statues, around exterior moldings, and on estípites. In time they came to dominate certain sections like the tabernacle (as in the Passion Altar at San José, Fuentes de Andalucía, last third of the eighteenth century), volutes for baldachins in the camarín, or Lady Chapel (church of Santiago, Antequera, 1765), and scrolls on the retablo’s outer flanks (Altar of the Divine Shepherdess, La Trinidad, Cordova, 1765).10 By contrast Rococo was quite popular in furniture, whether altar tables, picture frames, doors, organs, chairs, reliquaries, or candlesticks. Only a very few retablos come close to an overall Rococo design: such is the altar of Saint Anthony in the Mercedarian monastery of San José in Fuentes de Andalucía (ca. 1761), with its robin’s-egg blue paint and delicate gilded rocailles, although it still features an oversized mixtilinear entablature (Fig. 5.3). Some altars from the late 1770s use Augsburg models for their overall structural design, with a return to the smooth column, flanking wings, and less profuse decoration, probably—as we will see in the Southern Cone—reflecting a move toward a Neoclassical aesthetic.11 Such is the Altar of the Virgin of Remedies (before 1780) at the church of San Miguel in Marchena, which follows an altar model by Georg Michael Roscher and Johann Georg Hertel (Fig. 5.4).12 Sometimes entire chapels—notably those

5.2 High altar retablo, La Enseñanza, Mexico City, 1762–1778. Photo: Author

5.3 Altar of Saint Anthony, Monastery of San José, Fuentes de Andalucía, Spain, ca. 1761. Photo: Author

5.4 Altar of the Virgin of Remedies, San Miguel, Marchena, Spain, 1780. Photo: Author

242 The Spiritual Rococo

in Cordova Province that are richly stuccoed in the tradition of Francisco de Hurtado (1669–1725)—incorporate Rococo cartouches and rocailles but again are dominated by acanthus leaves, strapwork, floral garlands, caryatids, and mixtilinear moldings. The champion of this style was Francisco Xavier Pedrajas (1736–1811), who executed the incomparable icing-white Capilla del Sagrario in the church of La Asunción in Priego de Córdoba (completed 1784).13 In the 1760s some altarpieces in New Spain (Salamanca and San Luis Potosí) and Guatemala (La Merced in Guatemala City) began to sport rocailles, trelliswork, and C-scrolls but the overall ornamentation remains heavy and tightly packed with Baroque caryatids and estípites.14 A similar taste dominated Nueva Granada (especially present-day Ecuador and Colombia), where the Solomonic column lasted to the end of the century even though the region was one of the most important centers for the production of small-scale Rococo sculpture, painting, and furniture.15 Some of the most unusual retablos are in Quito, such as the gilded altar at the Capilla del Rosario in the church of Santo Domingo with its oversized, inward-curving rocaille finial-vases (late eighteenth century).16 Peru and Alto Peru (present-day Bolivia) also had little use for Rococo church décor, although there was a brief fashion for Rococo motifs in retablos in Trujillo from the 1760s and in Lima in the 1780s, as with the Altar of Saint Anne in the Cathedral (ca. 1780–1800)—it is close to two Franz Xaver Habermann and Hertel altarpiece designs from series 49—and the Altar of the Virgen del Traje (now Lourdes) in the church of La Merced (1786–1798), both in Lima.17 La Paz went through a brief but exuberant Rococo phase in the 1770s, but mostly on palace facades.18 One of the most original— and chaotic—Rococo altarpieces in Peru is the wooden chancel altar in Cuzco cathedral, its jumble of C-scrolls and rocailles joined with Baroque volutes and Mannerist caryatids like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that do not quite fit (Fig. 5.5).19 However these examples are the exceptions in regions that continued to be dominated by local variants of the late Baroque.

Non-Iberian European Immigration to the Cono Sur Non-Iberian craftsmen arrived in the Southern Cone in significant numbers only at the very end of the seventeenth century. Previously the Crown had prevented anyone from outside the empire from visiting its American territories, although exceptions were occasionally made for missionaries. These restrictions caused serious problems not just because of a lack of priests in southern South America but also because there were few trained architects or artists of any kind in the more marginal settlements and missions. Writing about the backwater that was the Captaincy of Chile, Jesuit Alonso de Ovalle (1603–1651) noted in 1646 that “we do not have in our colleges anyone who knows how to make a door or draw a line, or to spare us the least of the many expenses there have been, in any art or trade.”20 The Crown relented in 1664 and admitted foreign priests—but not lay brothers—who could only make up

“O Happy Vision!” 243

a quarter of all missionaries and had to spend a year of cultural immersion in Spain before their departure.21 This decree did not alleviate the need for artists and architects since it was overwhelmingly the lay brothers, and not the priests, who were practiced in the trades. In 1674 the Crown decreed that a third of missionary staff, including lay brothers, could come from vassal states and Habsburg lands, which meant most of Catholic Central Europe and Spanish Campania, Puglia, and Sicily.22 The first large group of non-Spanish Jesuit artists and architects landed in Buenos Aires in 1691 including, according to passenger Anton Sepp von Reinegg (1655–1733), “Spaniards, Italians, Dutch, Sicilians, Sardinians, Genoese, Milanese, Romans, Bohemians, [and] Austrians.”23 Sepp, from Kaltern in South Tyrol, was the only architect among the 44 passengers— although being a priest he was an amateur—but six years later he was joined by the professionally trained brother architect Johannes Kraus from Pilsen.24 By the time the next group of missionaries arrived in 1714 a full two-thirds of mission personnel came from outside Spain and in 1715 all limits on nonSpanish missionaries were lifted—the next year 72 priests and brothers reached the Southern Cone from places as diverse as Poland and the Papal States.25 Among them were architects Wolff,26 Bianchi,27 and Primoli,28 and sculptor and cabinetmaker Joseph Schmidt (1690–1752).29 By 1734 Germans already made up a quarter of new missionaries.30 These Jesuit architects, artists, and craftsmen introduced a distinctively non-Iberian flavor to the arts and built environment of the Southern Cone. Such was Sepp who, whether out of patriotism or homesickness furnished the church he built at the Paraguay Reduction (mission) of San Juan Bautista in 1697 with a replica of the high altar of the Jesuit church in Landsberg am Lech (where he had entered the Society) and with an octagonal baptistery modeled on the Gnadenkapelle at

5.5 Chancel retablo, Cathedral, Cuzco, second half eighteenth century. Photo: Author

244 The Spiritual Rococo

5.6 Anton Harls, Jesuit estancia church at Santa Catalina, Argentina, 1754–1760. Photo: Author

Altötting, the favored shrine of the Electoral family of Munich; or Anton Harls (1725-after 1767), who built the Bavarian-style Rococo façade of the church at the Jesuit estancia of Santa Catalina, its curves and counter-curves and cupola-capped towers strikingly close to Central European prototypes like of the Basilica of Wilten outside Innsbruck (1751–1755) by Josef Stapf (1718–1785) from Füssen (Fig. 5.6).31 Chilean Rococo was particularly beholden to Germanic Jesuits: there were 38 architects, artists, and craftsmen among the 85 Germanic missionaries who immigrated there in the eighteenth century—by far the most anywhere in

“O Happy Vision!” 245 Latin America.32 The first was the Tyrolian Johann Bitterich (1675– 1720), from a family of sculptors in Landeck.33 Bitterich was sufficiently respected that Lothar Franz von Schönborn (1693– 1729), Prince Bishop of Bamberg and Elector of Mainz, offered to employ him as his court sculptor if he would not go to Chile, and he left behind suites of sculptures at the Martinskirche in Bamberg (1711–1714), in the chapel at Lothar Franz’ Schloß Weißenstein in Pommersfelden (ca. 1714–1715), both extant, and a series of nowlost garden sculptures in the same patron’s Schloß Gaibach (1708–1710) (Fig. 5.7).34 Johannes Meier and Michael Müller have recently shown that he left for South America at the end of 1715, arriving in Chile in 1718, where he survived only two years.35 The desperate need for artworks in Chile comes vividly to life in Bitterich’s exasperated report of 15 April 1720: “I have to work here on a massive scale for this whole Province of Chile; since our Superiors from [all] foundations indeed insistently ask for sculptures, altars, and buildings … [t]wo provincial procurators are travelling from here … to bring here some young Jesuits, particularly brothers, from Germany, namely two cabinetmakers (Schreiner) or carpenters (Tischler), one or two bricklayers (Maurer) and a sculptor (Bildhauer), because in this part of the world similar young men cannot be found.”36 In spite of this frenetic activity no surviving work has until now been definitively attributed to the Tyrolean sculptor although I and Fernando Guzmán have recently proposed that a pair of sculptures of Saint Joachim and Saint Anne once in the Jesuit church in Santiago are by Bitterich owing to striking similarities with the Bamberg and Pommersfelden series.37 Some of the most important Germanic architects and sculptors to reach the colony arrived with a group of 18 missionaries in 1724, one of whom, the Hörstein sculptor and cabinetmaker Adam Engelhard (1685–1748), had expressly declared his intention to follow in Bitterich’s footsteps: “since I have now heard that dearest Bitterich who was occupied with the construction of the college in Chile has passed away I offer to go in his place, for whatever I lack in the art of sculpture I compensate with in every kind

5.7 Johannes Bitterich, Aloysius Gonzaga, 1711. Martinskirche, Bamberg. Photo: Author

246 The Spiritual Rococo

of cabinetmaking.”38 Engelhard had worked for nine years before joining the Society in 1705 and he built the retablos for the Jesuit church in Mendoza, likely carved a monumental Saint Sebastian now in Los Andes, and made the splendid cajonera (sacristy cabinets) now in Santiago Cathedral (Fig. 5.32).39 Another carpenter and cabinetmaker, Johann Benno Gallemayr (1701–after 1737) from Munich, worked at the Jesuit church at Concepción (1727) but left the Society in 1733.40 The most important architect among them was Peter Vogl (1692–1767), from Wettenhausen (Bavaria), who came from an old family of Wessobrunn Stukkatoren.41 Vogl began work on the Mendoza church in 1724, drew up plans for Santiago Cathedral and a fortress for Valparaíso Harbor (1740), was chief architect at the Colegio Máximo from 1737 in Santiago, and built the chapel at Calera de Tango (1755–1762). Another allegedly eminent architect, Martin Motsch (1714–1740)—he wrote that his father was “a builder at the Bavarian court, and taught me architecture, the beautiful science of building, since I was a boy,” and claimed to have worked at the great courts of Europe—has left no trace of his work in Chile.42 Motsch also likely comes from a prominent Wessobrunn family of architects and Stukkatoren based in Gaispoint—also spelled “Metsch,” “Mätsch,” or “Metz”—who worked in places like Füssen and Steinhausen.43 The Swabian Michael Herre (1697–1743), from Neufra, was chief architect at Concepción and worked on projects in Coquimbo, La Serena, and the hacienda of Bucalemu.44 Finally, Anton Miller (1697–1720), from Pfaffenhofen in Tyrol, although trained as a humble wood turner (torneator), was the mastermind behind the unique mission church architecture of Chiloé (Figs. 5.41–43).45 This voyage also introduced colonial Chile’s most important patron of the arts, Procurator General Karl Haimhausen (or Haimbhausen, 1692–1767).46 Born in Munich into one of the most powerful and established families in the Wittelsbach electorates, he was the son of Count Franz Ferdinand von Haimhausen, the Bavarian Privy Councilor, Court Treasurer, and president of the Court Council (Hofratspäsident).47 Karl’s nephew Sigmund Ferdinand Joseph administered the Bavarian mines and another nephew, Karl, commissioned François de Cuvilliés to design Schloß Haimhausen (1745–1747) (Fig. 3.23). Haimhausen was also the cousin of Maria Anna of Austria, Queen of Portugal (1683–1754), who was a major source of revenue for the mission.48 Beginning in 1729 he oversaw the construction of the massive new church of San Miguel in Santiago (Fig. 5.8), the equally monumental arts and crafts atelier at the Calera de Tango (Fig. 5.9), and the recruitment of waves of young Germanic talent, particularly during a 1743–1746 fundraising tour of southern Europe.49 In Munich in 1745 he delivered a letter from Jesuit Father General Franz Retz (in office 1730–1750)—a fellow German-speaker from Prague—to the superiors of the five German Provinces of the Society (Austria, Bohemia, Upper Germany, Upper Rhine, and Lower Rhine) asking each to select two or three craftsmen for the missions: “weavers, or surgeons, apothecaries, exceptional tailors, architects, and especially carpenters who can construct a large building or a church, or if there is a painter well versed in his art.

“O Happy Vision!” 247

However if none of these kinds of artisans can be found among Ours [the Jesuits] you may also propose to me candidates who are in our faith.”50 Retz had tried this before in 1737, asking Rudolf Burckhardt, the Provincial of Upper Germany, for “apothecaries, surgeons, weavers, tailors, cabinetmakers, carpenters, architects, or experienced farmers” whether “inside or outside the Society” for “the overseas missions,” although he did not specifically refer to Chile.51 All but three of the young brothers who went to Chile on the 1746–1748 voyage were admitted to the Society exclusively for this purpose. This migration of 31 German brothers included those most responsible for introducing Rococo into Chile.52 Jacob Kelner (or Kelnehr, Kellner, 1712–after 1773) from Mingerode-Untereichsfeld near the Harz woods, a mason, sculptor, and “very accomplished” draughtsman (in arte delineandi bene profecit), was the

5.8 Franz Grueber, San Miguel, Santiago, 1748–1765. Drawing by Johann Moritz Rugendas, 1839. Munich, Staatliche Graphische Sammlung

5.9 Peter Vogl and others, Patio in the Calera de Tango, Chile, 1741–1748. Photo: Author

248 The Spiritual Rococo

chief decorator of the new church of San Miguel in Santiago (Figs. 5.27, 5.29).53 Johann Köhler (1721–1788), a goldsmith, silversmith, and jeweler from Česká Kamenice in Bohemia produced some of the highest quality silver and gold pieces in the history of Latin America over his 20 years there, including the silver altar frontal, relief plaques, mayas (reflecting panels), and the monumental gilt silver monstrance now in the Cathedral—the latter weighs 15.85 kilograms and is encrusted with around 500 gemstones given to Haimhausen by Queen Maria Anna of Portugal (Figs. 5.32–34).54 The importance of this silverwork, not only as liturgical objects but as a component of the interior décor of Rococo sacred spaces in colonial Chile, cannot be underestimated. Johann Kollman (1717–1764), son of a carpenter in Taufkirchen, worked as a smith at the Calera de Tango but for health reasons soon became a painter—a 1755 letter from father Peter Weingartner 1755 notes wryly “from a weak smith a good painter;”55 and Franz Pöllants (1714–1791) from Böbing, a silver- and goldsmith from a family of goldsmiths, collaborated with Köhler at the silver works at the Calera de Tango.56 Johann Redle (1718–1798) a painter and gilder of noble ancestry from Rot an der Rot executed oil paintings in the church of the Calera de Tango, San Pablo, and the Colegio Máximo in Santiago.57 Franz Grueber (1715–after 1773), a carpenter and church builder (“faber lignaius ecclesiae”) from Bregenz who entered the Society in Naples, succeeded Vogl as chief architect after 1748 and was responsible for completing the new church of San Miguel in Santiago (Fig. 5.8) and those at San Fernando and Valparaíso.58 Georg Lanz (1720–1775), of German descent but born in Leiden, worked at the Colegio Máximo before leaving the Society in 1751 and working for non-Jesuit patrons in Santiago including the Mercedarians, for whom he built the Bavarian-style wooden pulpit at La Merced (Fig. 5.10; compare with E.1).59 These Jesuits brought with them 386 boxes of equipment and materials, especially iron and copper, but also pictures, statues, reliquaries, rosaries, medals, and books.60 Despite Haimhausen’s efforts, only seven more craftsmen reached Santiago before the 1767 expulsion of the Jesuits from Spanish territories, several of whom entered the novitiate in Landsberg (Haimhausen had also entered the Society there), the library of which contained not only works on architecture but also several volumes of French spiritual literature by authors such as Bellegarde, Caraccioli, Croiset, and Fénelon.61 These craftsmen included the carpenter, cabinetmaker, and architect Johann Hagen (1726–1786) from Egern near the Tegernsee, a region known for his and other carpenter families such as Hagn, Hazi, Höß, and Erlacher, who worked in Munich and environs.62 Haimhausen called him “the best architect America has yet seen” and employed him at the college and church of San Pablo in Santiago (built 1758, destroyed 1870), the college church in Quillota (1767), the Universidad de San Felipe, the Cathedral, and the fortifications in Valparaíso and Valdivia. Two other Tegernsee builders were Joseph Mezner (or Mößner, 1724–1802), who worked as a cabinetmaker in Concepción and from 1764 in the Colegio Máximo, and mason Benedikt Krüner (or Griner, 1731–1777), who built the churches of Quillota, La Cañada, and Nuestra Señora del Buen Viaje in

5.10 Georg Lanz, pulpit, La Merced, Santiago, after 1751. Photo courtesy Fernando Guzmán

250 The Spiritual Rococo

Mendoza.63 Joseph Ambros (Ambrosi, 1732–1779) from Burgeis was the main painter of the Chile mission, executing executed 23 canvases of the Litany of Loreto (1754) of which three survive today, as well as an Apostles series at Santiago Cathedral (1766).64 The number of paintings produced by Ambros and Redle is truly astonishing—the Hacienda of Bucalemu alone had 108 paintings at the time of the expulsion—but unlike the silversmiths and sculptors their work was pedestrian at best, featuring pious bust portraits in a murky, sfumato style marked with the kind of soft sentimentality made popular by Carlo Dolci (1616–1686).65 The Jesuit workshops were scattered throughout Central Chile. Painting, sculpture, and furniture—including retablos, sacristy cabinets, and pulpits— were produced in Santiago at the Colegio Máximo and at the Jesuits’ various building sites. But the Calera de Tango, a large agricultural estate 15 kilometers south of Santiago, was the main center for silverwork, goldwork, iron founding, and high quality embroidery and other textiles after it was refitted with a residence, chapel, and seven spacious courtyards from 1741 to 1748 (Fig. 5.9).66 The first held the iron foundry, the second served as the watchworks and silversmith’s workshop (as well as the dormitory, refectory, recreation room, and library), the third was devoted to wine production and agriculture, the fourth was occupied by the textile workshops, and the last three served the domestic needs of the ranch. The silver and gold ateliers (constructed 1755–1758) worked on an extraordinary scale—their contributions to San Miguel and the Colegio Máximo alone, when weighed by the Spanish authorities, amounted to 286 marcos castellanos (about 658 kilograms) of goldwork while the total silverware weighed 2,877 marcos, 2 onzas, 8 adarmes (more than six and a half metric tons), and the textile workshops came a close second, producing everything from fine ecclesiastical vestments to ponchos for the farm workers.67 As a crafts center the Calera de Tango equaled even the most productive of the Paraguay Reductions in diversity and scale of operations: even the quality of the tools set the Calera and its satellite ateliers apart from the rest of the Chile and much of the Southern Cone.

Rococo in Buenos Aires, Córdoba, and Santiago Although Rococo décor in Buenos Aires, Córdoba, and Santiago generally followed German and French models more closely than in Brazil it is neither purely French nor purely German. As in Brazil, Spanish America never abandoned the retablo form so that even the most radically French altarpiece in South America, the baldachin-like high altar in Buenos Aires Cathedral, was not permitted to stand in the middle of the crossing as originally intended, the idea of an altarpiece in the round going too much against the grain (Fig. 5.20). Some retablos retain aspects of Spanish style such as mixtilinear patterns or Solomonic columns while others adopt European altarpiece models wholesale, replacing the retablo with its equivalent Germanic or French form.

“O Happy Vision!” 251

More significantly no Spanish American Rococo interior attempts the stylistic unity achieved by Brazilian churches or the European Rococo except through matching suites of retablos, pulpits, confessionals, and other furnishings, which, although they often coordinate with each other, do not usually have any effect on the often very plain walls or vault (Fig. 5.24). It is precisely because retablos were categorized as furniture—they were designed so that they could be dismantled and moved about—that they were not incorporated into the surrounding architecture as were altarpieces in Central Europe. Nevertheless, Rococo was fundamentally different from Baroque in Spanish South America, perhaps most notably in the liberty with which artists altered printed models, a likely incentive for adopting the new style in the first place. Since the sixteenth century artists had copied printed models more or less literally, although often removing or switching figures, adding local allusions by changing the flora, fauna, and costume, and sometimes incorporating symbols or stylistic features related to indigenous culture.68 Such were the extensive series of lives of patron saints, Christ, or the Virgin Mary that adorned monastic courtyards from Mexico City to Santiago that follow series of engravings usually printed in the Spanish Netherlands: an example in Chile is the 20-canvas cycle of lunette paintings of the so-called Small Life of Saint Teresa (Cuzco, ca. 1694) from the Convento del Carmen San José in Santiago, which closely follows a series of prints by Adrian Collaert (1560–1618) and Cornelis Galle the Elder (1576–1650) from 1613.69 This approach continued with the transition to Rococo style, but only in figural scenes, as we have seen in the use of Augsburg holy cards as sources for Brazilian carvings or paintings (Figs. 3.11, 4.29, 4.31). The big difference is in purely decorative engravings. Between the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries artists frequently made creative use of non-narrative forms, whether acanthus scroll arabesques in the margins of printed books or grotesque heads, caryatid figures, and animal motifs taken also from engraved models. These forms are very common in the sixteenth-century mural painting of New Spain or in the carved decoration of stone façades in seventeenth and eighteenth century Peru.70 Although the artist may have changed them quite dramatically—such copying is rarely slavish—they are usually close enough to their models that they can be identified with relative ease. However since Rococo motifs were more abstract and presented in a way that encouraged free invention (for example by including multiple motifs or fragments of motifs on a single page) artists modified them and made pastiches with much greater freedom than before. As I noted in the Introduction it comes as a surprise to people (such as myself) who are used to identifying models in earlier Latin American imagery to find that the extraordinary wealth of Rococo rocailles, scrolls, and other forms that adorn the churches of Buenos Aires or Santiago are virtually impossible to trace from specific prints—even when they are trophées, emblems, or other symbols that would seem to demand closer copying (Fig. 5.22). Never before had Latin American artists adapted printed models with such freedom.

252 The Spiritual Rococo

Even retablos frequently only followed the engraved prototypes in their general structure, often combining one or more models and over time settling into a generic Augsburg type with smooth columns and plain panels, sparse décor, a basic pediment with a Gloria, perhaps a pair of angels perched on top like finials, and dramatic stage-like wings that reach out diagonally (Figs. 5.13, 5.15, 5.31, 5.44). These innovations were not merely stylistic but involved fundamental iconographic changes that reflected shifts in peoples’ devotional practices. Since European designs tended to consist of a single framed opening above the altar table and left little room for statues, retablo makers radically reduced the amount of figural imagery, focusing attention on a principal statue or painting in the center and usually only two flanking sculptures on the wings. Traditional Hispano-American retablos had multiple niches on several levels (pisos, literally “storeys”) with six to nine (or many more) sculptures and/or paintings, and the devout would pray to a variety of saints for intercession according to their particular needs or on certain feast days (Fig. 5.1). Also, as Ricardo González first noted, Rococo retablos increasingly replaced narrative paintings and relief panels with Frenchinspired allegorical carvings, so that instead of literal depictions of biblical or hagiographic stories people were faced with symbolic representations of martial, scientific, liberal arts, and other Enlightenment themes (Figs. 5.20, 5.22).71 These changes reflected religious reforms that were being carried out throughout Latin America as many bishops tried to convert their congregations from what Brian Larkin calls “Baroque Catholicism”—an emphasis on outward splendor, prayer directed at specific statues and paintings, and belief in the divine presence in sacred imagery—toward a simplified, more interior faith in a transcendent Deity and a reverence of saints more as role models than as intercessors.72 Although these reforms had limited success in regions such as New Spain or Peru where colonial traditions were more entrenched, many parts of Spanish America did witness a trend away from opulence and from lavish patronage of chapels—the kind that encouraged the visual richness and complexity of Baroque retablos—to donations to charities and other state institutions. The Jesuit church of San Ignacio in Buenos Aires (1712–1734), for decades the largest in the city, has one of the earliest Germanic façades in South America and some of the first retablos in that style, several following Augsburg models (Figs. 5.11, 5.12, 5.14, 5.16). 73 Kraus is responsible for the plan and design of the elevation of the church—according to the 1717 Annual Letter, “a great part of the construction of this church and the Córdoba college was achieved through his labors”—and probably the façade, however Kraus died only two years into the project leaving the walls at clerestory level, and construction was taken over in turn by Wolff, Bianchi, Primoli, Weger, and Gerhard Letten (1697–after 1767) from Cologne.74 Under Bianchi’s direction (from 1727) the nave vault, cupola, and south tower were finished.75 Between ca. 1731–1734 Primoli finished the remaining vaults, and after him Gerhard Letten supervised the final details while Weger contributed the decorative

“O Happy Vision!” 253

5.11 Johann Kraus and others, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, 1712–1734. Photo: Author

ironwork. The façade has a recognizably Germanic accent, particularly in the narthex entrance of three arches divided by high inverted corbels (originally a pair also flanked the first floor window), which recall Johann Fischer von Erlach’s collegiate church in Salzburg (1694–1707) and the Benedictine Abbey at Weingarten (1715–1724). The narrow, multi-storey towers flanking the façade are similar to those of the 1663 Theatinerkirche in Munich, and the church also has a clerestory gallery over the side aisles, unusual in Spanish America but common in Central Europe. However the façade as it appears today is misleading: the delicate Rococo cartouches and garlands that adorn

254 The Spiritual Rococo

Left, 5.12 Gerhard Letten or Conrad Kohl, Altar of Saint John Nepomuk, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, ca. 1750s–1760s. Photo: Author Right, 5.13 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design from series 34 (engraving), published by Hertel, Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

its windows and doorway are the product of two faux-Rococo restorations in the 1850s and 1920s, which also removed the upper corbels.76 For authentic Rococo one must go inside, where several mid-eighteenth century retablos survive, the finest of which are the anonymous altars of Saint John Nepomuk and Our Lady of the Snows (ca. 1750s–1760s) (Figs. 5.12, 5.14), and Isidro Lorea’s high altar (after 1761–1767) (Fig. 5.16) and altar of the Virgin of Sorrows (before 1767). Scholars have attributed at least one of the side altars to Joseph Schmidt, who likely executed the Rococo sacristy cabinets at La Merced and San Ignacio and who built and furnished the Jesuit church in Salta (1721–1732), now destroyed.77 I question Schmidt’s authorship simply because he died in 1752 and the printed models used are from the 1750s at the earliest. It is more likely that they were done by one of the other Central Europeans in residence, most likely Letten, the Maestro Mayor at the college in 1757, or the Austrian Conrad Kohl (1725–after 1767),78 who headed the college’s

“O Happy Vision!” 255

substantial carpentry workshop at the time of the 1767 expulsion and whose workshop at the estancia in Areco contained a “large book of architectural drawings” and a box of “various tidbits of drawings” (libro grande de dibujos de fabrica … una casita con varias chucherias de dibujas), although carpenters Joseph Ott (1719–after 1767), and Paul Balthäfer (active 1750s) are also candidates, since they were working on Jesuit projects in the city at the time.79 The refined altarpiece of Saint John Nepomuk—a Central European dedication—has a single niche flanked by trios of columns, a typical Buenos Aires double base (dado, or banco, and plinth, or sotabanco), and projecting wings (Fig. 5.12). The retablo maker has replaced the Gloria that typically surmounts Augsburg altarpiece models with an opening to emit natural light— an ingenious invention since it recalls Bernini’s original Gloria at Saint Peter’s and works by the Asam Brothers in Bavaria (Fig. 3.15). Rocailles adorn the plinth and dado panels and form two luxurious scrolls on either side of the niche and paired volutes on the second level. The crown looks like a sunrise emerging from a giant shell and delicate trelliswork with blossoms surmounts the niche. The overall design is based primarily on a Habermann and Hertel prototype from series 34, one of the models that show two alternative designs as a single altarpiece joined down the middle (Fig. 5.13). From the left side the retablista borrowed the trelliswork and the angel’s head in the dado, the Corinthian order, the shape of the cornice, and the profile of the inner pair of volutes. The right side accounts for the giant acanthus scroll base for the outer volute. However the fanciful crown seems to come from a third source: a mirror image duplication of the top of the left side of an altar by Christian Friedrich Rudolf.80 The altarpiece is a testament to the kind of pastiching that characterized retablo building during the Rococo era.

5.14 Gerhard Letten or Conrad Kohl, Altar of Our Lady of the Snows, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, ca. 1750s–1760s. Photo: Author

256 The Spiritual Rococo

5.15 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design from series 49 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel, Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

The altarpiece of the Virgin of the Snows, traditionally attributed to Schmidt, is equally beholden to Augsburg models (Figs. 5.14, 5.15). It was one of the more prized retablos in the church since at the time of the expulsion it was valued at 2,700 pesos whereas a more standard mid-sized retablo went for 1,500 pesos. I believe it was made by the same retablista, given the similarities in the style and arrangement of the rocailles and other decorative details and the structure and appearance of the projecting wings and cornices. It has the same basic structure as the Saint John Nepomuk altar except that the Gloria is carved (it surrounds the dove of the Holy Spirit) and a pair of urns take the place of the outer volutes. The décor of the panel surrounding the niche and in the pediment is also plainer. The model for this altarpiece is from Habermann and Hertel’s series 49 (Fig. 5.15), which has the Gloria, the same shape of the cornice and niche profile, and light rocaille décor in the paneling. This model has only one pair of columns and I suspect the retablista added the columns to harmonize with the Nepomuk altarpiece, which also uses multiple columns, although here eliminating the Solomonic columns to form pairs of smooth columns. One of the pioneers of the Rococo altarpiece in Buenos Aires was Isidro Lorea (ca. 1740–1807) from Navarre, who built the high altar retablos at San Ignacio (after 1761–1767), Santa Catalina (before 1770), and the Cathedral (1774–1784)—among others—as well as the pulpit at San Francisco (between 1770 and 1783) (Figs. 5.16, 5.18–20).81 Lorea ran a large atelier and one of his journeyman assistants, Juan Antonio Hernández (ca. 1750–1821), went on to design an important suite of side altar retablos at the Cathedral and the Altar of Saint James in San Ignacio.82 Lorea’s retablos are painted in white or restrained colors; use loosely distributed gilded scrolls, shells, and foliate

“O Happy Vision!” 257

5.16 Isidro Lorea, High Altar, San Ignacio, Buenos Aires, after 1761–1767. Photo: Author

motifs, particularly at the top; favor smooth, gilded columns with light sgraffiato ornamentation; and showcase curvilinear forms.83 The San Ignacio high altar was at least the third to be built on the site, the second, only gilded in 1740, still referred to as the “new retablo” in 1761 (Fig. 5.16).84 The only explanation I can think of as to why this second retablo was replaced so soon with Lorea’s altarpiece—it cannot be any later than the 1767 expulsion—is that the older retablo was still in the Baroque style and the Society wanted something Rococo.85 This rapid update to the new style is reminiscent of Antônio Francisco Lisboa’s 1771 refitting of his father’s 1766 façade design at the Carmelite church in Ouro Preto (see Chapter 4). Lorea tended to be free with his models, in this case a portfolio of designs from Habermann and Hertel’s 300 series.86 From plate three, the closest, he has borrowed the pair of adult angels, the Gloria (here again using natural light), the smooth Corinthian columns, and the corbel volutes with their distinctive scrolling acanthus leaves at the extremities. Plate one, which also has (juvenile)

5.17 Alexis Peyrotte, ornamental patterns from Divers ornemens dédiés à Monsieur Tanevot Architecte du Roi, Première partie (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1748). Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs

258 The Spiritual Rococo

5.18 Isidro Lorea, High Altar, Santa Catalina, Buenos Aires, Before 1770. Photo: Author

angels, provides the profile volutes, and either image inspires the empty cartouche motif at the top, although Lorea constructs it from leafy motifs borrowed from his favorite French designer, Alexis Peyrotte. In fact nearly all of Lorea’s altars and his one known pulpit are profoundly beholden to Peyrotte.87 Lorea preferred Peyrotte’s cartouches from the Second livre de cartouches chinois dédié à Madame de Fontanieu (1742) (Fig. 4.10) and larger ornamental patterns from Divers ornemens dédiés à Monsieur Tanevot Architecte du Roi, Première partie (1748) (Fig. 5.17). These sources inspired Lorea’s two trademark motifs: a deeply scalloped, funnel-like leaf with ragged edges, which at San Ignacio adorns the outermost panels in the plinth and is the main motif in the uppermost cartouche, and a tightly twisting stem and noose-like cartouche formed of what looks like an attenuated fish tail that loops back

“O Happy Vision!” 259

around itself. The latter appears directly above the scalloped leaves in the outer dado panels, and in a simplified form above the flanking saints. Lorea’s high altar at Santa Catalina (Fig. 5.18) is the centerpiece of one of Spanish America’s most unified Rococo interiors—although achieved entirely through the suite of five gold-on-cream retablos (two are nineteenth-century replacements) and not involving the plain walls or vault. It is bolder and more curvilinear than that of San Ignacio, with concave flanking bays, columns turned on a 45-degree angle, and convex niche crowns. Although again based on the pair of models from Habermann and Hertel’s 49 series Lorea here makes much more extensive use of Peyrotte: four of his leaf motifs frame the upper niche, the upper and lower ones sprouting extensive garlands of marsh grass and blossoms from Divers ornemens (Fig. 5.17). The lasso-like cartouches appear under each column, the inner ones echoing Peyrotte’s serrated leaf/fish tail that curls back around itself.88 However nowhere are Peyrotte’s models more creatively interpreted than on the pulpit at San Francisco, its bulbous white box and staircase railing enmeshed by a gilded tangle of leaves and fins ending in sprays of grass and blossoms and arranged with daring asymmetry (Fig. 5.19). One of the most freeform examples of Rococo décor in Latin America, it rivals the creativity of the most daring practitioners of the genre pittoresque in Paris or the Wessobrunner stucco carvers.89 The San Francisco pulpit also follows a French model for its overall design: Jean-Dominique-Etienne Le Canu’s pulpit published as plate 78 of Jacques-François Blondel’s Livre Nouveau ou Regles des cinq ordres d’Architecture, par Jacques Barozzio de Vignole (1761) has the same profile and a nearly identical motif in the backboard. The Cathedral high altar is the most radical of Lorea’s inventions, a baldachin in the round meant to be placed under the cupola, its wings of freestanding

5.19 Isidro Lorea, pulpit, San Francisco, Buenos Aires, 1770–1783. Photo: Author

5.20 Isidro Lorea, High Altar Retablo, Cathedral, Buenos Aires, 1774–1784. Photo courtesy of the Cathedral of Buenos Aires

“O Happy Vision!” 261

columns extending forward diagonally and fanning out at the extremities to form complementary concavities at the back (Fig. 5.20).90 It resembles several French models, notably those published by Blondel in his Livre Nouveau, and it is even closer to Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier’s project for the altar of the Chapel of the Virgin at Saint-Sulpice, published in his Livre d’ornemens (1734), which has flanking pairs of Corinthian columns, the innermost ones canted at a 45-degree angle to give the wings a diagonal thrust, and rests on both a plinth and dado (Fig 5.21). In the end Lorea’s altar was never appreciated as a freestanding entity.91 After long negotiations it was decided not to place it under the cupola but in the middle of the chancel where it stood from 1791 to after 1803 when it was moved against the end wall where the back could not be seen by the congregation.92 Unlike in his earlier retablos, Lorea assigned the decorative carving to his assistants: one, probably Hernández, was responsible for the trophées on the front plinth and the rear dado and the other—I suspect it was Buenos Aires native Tomás Saravia (1746–after 1774) owing to similarities with his contemporary work at the church of La Merced—carved the bulky rocailles on the corbels under the columns and elsewhere.93 Typically, the motifs are not copied identically but are adjusted instead to serve the iconographic needs of this site: the trophées, although traceable to René-Jacques Charpentier’s Premier livre de differents trophées (1736) and Jean-Charles Delafosse’s Iconologie historique (1768) include combinations of martial and liberal arts iconography that were invented specifically for this commission: since the altarpiece belonged to the city and by extension the Viceroyalty they celebrate the enlightened rule of the Bourbon monarchs.94 The same goes for the cartouches (Fig. 5.22), adapted from Charles-Edmé Babel’s Cartouches pour estre acompagnés de suports et trophées (mid-eighteenth century), which borrow the crown and sides from their model but introduce iconography such as scepters and crowns that relate to the program of the altarpiece (Fig. 2.17).95

5.21  Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, Project for the Chapel of the Virgin at SaintSulpice, Paris, 1727, from Livre d’ornemens (Paris, Gabriel Huquier, 1747–1748). Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, RP-P-1998-345. F.G. Waller-Fonds

262 The Spiritual Rococo

5.22 Detail of Figure 5.20. Photo courtesy of the Cathedral of Buenos Aires

Another strikingly homogeneous Rococo space is achieved by the suite of six altarpieces in niche chapels (ca. 1771) attributed to Portuguese retablista Pedro Carmona (active 1771–ca. 1817) in Bianchi’s unremittingly plain Recollect Church of El Pilar in Buenos Aires (1727–1732).96 The altars are in the style of Rio de Janeiro, as Héctor Schenone notes, with the trademark carioca tarja, the baldachin-like niche covers, and flame-finials at the top (Figs. 4.12; 5.24, 5.25, Plate 14).97 But they are flatter as befits a Spanish retablo and more restrained, lacking the columns typical of Luso-Portuguese altarpieces. More importantly they equal the best carioca examples in the delicacy and equilibrium of the carving and also in inventiveness: in this suite of deceptively similar retablos no two are the same. Scrolls and counter scrolls balance or weave into each other (especially in the pediments), pairs of Regency grotesques after Jean Bérain (see Fig. 2.6) flank the thin pilaster corbels, a delicate network of rocailles frames the niches, and irregular cartouches and coquillages surprise us among the otherwise symmetrical decorative scheme. Thanks to the plainness of the architecture visitors are drawn toward the retablos as they are in the church of São Francisco in São João del-Rei, the inventiveness and irregularity of ornament encouraging close observation and creating a pastoral atmosphere—in fact their position within small vaulted side chapels enhances the intimacy with which worshippers approach them, providing a seclusion similar to that of an oratory in a private home or even of the confessional. The way the candlelight dances off the gilded details brings to mind Augustin Fastl’s metaphysical use of the word “sparkle” in the church

“O Happy Vision!” 263

at Dießen (see Chapter 3). Despite their predominantly Luso-Brazilian style these altarpieces are remarkably close to French taste—an affinity even more apparent after the recent restoration of the original robin’s-egg blue paint, reminiscent of the Salon de la Princesse in Hôtel de Soubise (Fig. 2.21, Plate 1). The high altar and pulpit are also a surprise, since they feature unusually prominent asymmetry. Commissioned in 1730 from Spanish or criollo retablo makers José Domingo Mendizabal, Ignacio de Arregui, and Miguel de Careaga, the high altar was built in several stages and the Rococo additions are contemporary with Carmona’s retablos (Fig. 5.23).98 Indeed without them the altarpiece is quite traditional: a flat, grid-plan structure with three niches on each level divided by columns or pier-pilasters.99 Schenone believes that the Rococo additions belong to two campaigns, one by a Spanish retablista, to whom he attributes the garlands sprinkled over the columns, dado, and elsewhere—as well as the boldly irregular rocaille crown—and another by a Portuguese, who did the Luso-Brazilian style frame around the central niche.100 The pulpit, probably by the same carver who worked on the high altar crown and based on a model from Habermann and Hertel’s 119 series, also features tadpole-like irregular cartouches, none identical, in each of the panels of the box.101

5.23 José Domingo Mendizabal, Ignacio de Arregui, Miguel de Careaga, and others, High Altar (detail), El Pilar, Buenos Aires, 1730–ca. 1771. Photo: Author

264 The Spiritual Rococo

5.24 Pedro Carmona, side altars, El Pilar, Buenos Aires, ca. 1771. Photo: Author

5.25 Pedro Carmona, side altar (detail), El Pilar, Buenos Aires, ca. 1771. Photo: Author

“O Happy Vision!” 265

5.26 Stucco altarpiece, sacristy, Capilla Domestica, La Compañía, Córdoba, Argentina, before 1767. Destroyed. Photo: Author (taken in 2003)

The Jesuit college in the inland city of Córdoba and the Jesuit estancias in the surrounding hills preserve some of the most original Rococo church décor in the Cono Sur, a group of anonymous stucco doorways and interior furnishings that transform Augsburg structural models and Rococo motifs into extraordinarily elastic, organic forms resembling jungle vegetation with leafy, tongue-like C-scrolls. By transforming Rococo motifs into sub-tropical plants the sculptor gives the style a vitality and boldness rarely equaled, capitalizing upon Rococo’s capacity for metamorphosis and echoing the way Native American artists would transform the style to reflect their own surroundings as we shall soon see. Like most Rococo naturalism it still communicates a vision of Arcadia, but the wild and vigorous variety of Fragonard’s less tamed landscapes, with their vortexes of trees and trellises (for example, Fig. 2.2). The most spectacular is the retablo in the sacristy of the capilla domestica, tragically destroyed by a water leak in the last decade (Fig. 5.26).102 The wings of the retablo hug the concave contours of the chapel niche, reaching outward at the top like a pair of claws and overwhelming the modest altar table and tabernacle at the center. The bulky wings are in the Augsburg mode—paired Corinthian columns on a plinth with a heavy cornice—and they contrast markedly with the freeform, scrolling trellis décor floating around the tabernacle, with its tongue scrolls, leafy garlands, and precarious plant pots. An outsized relief of God the Father at the crown looms menacingly over the viewer. Although the understated post-expulsion inventory describes it simply as “curiously worked” it is one of the masterpieces of vernacular Rococo in the Americas.103 The same artist or team executed the pulpit and high altar at the Jesuit estancia of Alta Gracia—the former a boisterous reinterpretation of a pulpit design by Johann Bernhard Hattinger and Jeremias Wolff and described in

266 The Spiritual Rococo

5.27 Attributed to Jacob Kelner, Altar of Saint Ignatius, formerly in the church of San Miguel, now in San Juan Evangelista, Santiago, ca. 1748–1762. Photo: Author

5.28 Detail of Fig. 5.27. Photo: Author

the expulsion documents as “à la moderna,” as well as a delicate pair of white stucco transept retablos in the chapel of the Jesuit estancia of Santa Catalina—also referred to as “obra de talla moderna” (“a work of modern sculpture”)—which are animated by the same conflict between a Habermann-style architectural structure below and a pediment formed of loose organic motifs such as leafy finials, tongue scrolls, lace-like open trelliswork, and angel heads.104

“O Happy Vision!” 267

5.29 Attributed to Jacob Kelner, former side altarpiece from the church of San Miguel, now in the Cathedral Museum, Santiago, ca. 1748–1767. Photo: Author

Although Santiago rivaled Buenos Aires as a center for Rococo very little survives to show for it thanks to a litany of earthquakes and fires which levelled its colonial churches. Such was the Jesuit church of San Miguel (Fig. 5.8), once the largest and most splendid in Chile and the focus of most of the energies of the Germanic immigrant artists, destroyed in a fire in 1863. Fortunately two major altarpieces survive—the retablo of Saint Ignatius (Fig. 5.27) and one of the side chapel retablos (Fig. 5.29), both likely by Jacob Kelner—as do its sacristy cabinets (Fig. 5.32) and a number of sculptures, paintings, and silver adornments (Figs. 5.33, 5.34).105 As recorded in drawings by Maria Graham (1822) and Johann Moritz Rugendas (1839) the church was crowned with a uniquely Central European style clock tower with a gambrel roof, corbelled cupola, and finials, which I believe refers specifically to the seventeenth-century tower of the Peterskirche in Munich—Haimhausen’s home town—and which became a model for many later churches in central Chile (Fig. 5.8). The inventories tell us little about the interior except that, as in the churches of Buenos Aires, the retablos contrasted with plain architecture, here described as being in the Tuscan Order.106 The high altar, dedicated to St Michael, featured Corinthian columns, a central bay with sculptures of Saints Peter and Gregory, a statue of St. Michael at the top flanked by other angels, and a gilt central niche containing a silver throne and a painting of the Assumption.107 The structure was therefore a standard Habermann-style

268 The Spiritual Rococo

design with columnar wings and no side niches. Adorning the altar table was Köhler’s Rococo silver relief panel showing St. Michael flanked by Saints Ignatius and Francis Xavier (Fig. 5.33).108 One of the most sumptuous silver frontals on a continent known for sumptuous silver frontals, it is a whirlwind of trelliswork, flowers, C-scroll cartouches, and jagged-edged shells in very high relief. Although the figures come from Augsburg prints—Saint Ignatius for example is after a Klauber engraving entitled S. Ign. Soc. J. Fundator— Köhler replaces the cartouches in the models with his own inventions.109 He also incorporates French forms such as the jagged-edged shell cartouches on the lower two corners of the frontal, which derive from chinoiseries by Jean Mondon (compare Figs. 2.16 , 5.33).110 A pair of gilt-silver high-relief plaques with bust portraits of Francis Xavier (Fig. 5.34) and Aloysius Gonzaga in curvilinear frames formed of deeply scalloped rocailles and scrolls may also have adorned the high altar or the altars of Saint Ignatius or Saint Francis Xavier (one of the side altars), and again combine original rocaille work with figures taken from Klauber: the Saint Aloysius comes from Klauber’s Dominus pars haereditatis meae, although minus the background and again replacing the original frame.111 The other retablo described in the inventory is that of Saint Ignatius (Fig. 5.27), located opposite the sacristy off the right transept, which it refers to as gilded with four blue painted columns in the Composite order—the color intentionally recalls the lapis-encrusted columns of Andrea Pozzo’s Altar of Saint Ignatius at the Gesù in Rome (1695–1699)—with flanking statues of Saint Stanislas Kostka and presumably Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, his usual counterpart.112 It has to have been completed by 1762 when a letter notes that it was adorned with the statue of Saint Stanislas and 12 panel paintings in frames of glass and lapis blue to match the columns.113 Fernando Guzmán and I have recently identified this retablo as the one currently in the suburban church of San Juan Evangelista.114 Like the retablos of Buenos Aires it features a large central niche (the current painting in it is modern) flanked by wings of columns, in this case pairs of wings, one against the wall and the other reaching outward diagonally. Originally it sat on a dado and plinth (only the dado survives) richly adorned with rocaille cartouches, and it is rounded off with a Gloria encircled by a crown of volutes made up of C-scrolls, rocailles, and garlands. The retablo is modeled after French and German engravings alike. Although it is close to the Meissonnier model used in Buenos Aires Cathedral (Fig. 5.21), the crown is taken from a print of the destroyed Parisian church of Saint-Jean-en-Grève (1720–1721) by Jean-François Blondel—it was also a popular model in Bavaria—with the same volutes of juxtaposed C-scrolls, a Gloria at the center, and false tapestry flaps at the top.115 The cartouches on the dado—formed of C-scrolls, shellwork, grass sheaves, and garlands around an empty center—are close copies (at times in reverse) of Habermann’s cartouche designs from his 104 and 111 series, a source that also inspired the rocaille panels on the former side altar retablo now at the Cathedral Museum (Figs. 3.9, 5.28, 5.29).

5.30 Altar of the Virgin Immaculate, by the Jesuit atelier at the Colegio Máximo. ca. 1748–1767. Polychrome and gilded wood, (originally from the oratory of the Larraín Rojas family of Santiago). Destroyed 2010. Photo courtesy Fernando Guzmán (taken in 2009)

270 The Spiritual Rococo

5.31 Franz Xaver Habermann, model altarpiece from series 80 (engraving), published by Georg Hertel. Augsburg, mid-eighteenth century. London, Victoria & Albert Museum

The Jesuit altars of Santiago are more Germanic than those of Buenos Aires, with fluted columns, gilded capitals, and column bases, and especially Stuckmarmor, or painted imitation marble: this technique can be seen on the Cathedral Museum retablo, two medium-sized altarpieces from the Hacienda la Punta and the Colegio de San Borja and now at the Museo Histórico Nacional and the Museo de San Francisco, and a small oratory from the Hacienda La Compañía in Graneros—it copies a Habermann model from series 80— destroyed in the 2010 earthquake (Figs. 5.29, 5.30, 5.31).116 Although the Saint Ignatius altarpiece has been painted over in modern times pigmentation analysis we have commissioned confirms that it was also decorated with false marbling: the upper panels in mixtures of red, ochre, and orange or blues, greens and ochre, and the dado in green and the molding below it in red and orange.117 The same analysis confirms that the columns were painted in blue with gilding on the edges of the fluting, as described in the inventory. The only other large-scale furnishing to survive from San Miguel is Adam Engelhard’s sacristy cabinet now in the Cathedral museum, one of the most accomplished in Latin America (Fig. 5.32). Made with local and Brazilian hardwoods such as nogal, caoba, and jacarandá, the U-shaped collection of cupboards and drawers is 17 meters long and three high and took almost a decade to build (1753–1760). The doors and drawers are adorned with intricate curvilinear marquetry patterns and the piece is crowned on all three sides with a spidery tracery of gilded Rococo motifs from several sources: Habermann and Hertel’s 107 series provided the rocailles, the vases come from a suite of designs from the same series by Bauer used at San Martinho in Tibães (Fig. 4.8), and the cherub heads have been plucked from a variety of cartouche models.118 Guzmán has noted the similarity between these rocailles and the ornamentation on the two extant San Miguel side altars, testifying to an unusual degree of unity in the décor throughout the destroyed church.119

“O Happy Vision!” 271

5.32 Adam Engelhard, sacristy cabinets (detail) with central gilt silver monstrance by Johann Köhler, Cathedral, Santiago, 1753–1760. Photo courtesy Fernando Guzmán

5.33 Johann Köhler and Franz Pöllants, silver altar frontal “de los Jesuitas” (detail), Santiago, Cathedral, ca, 1758–1765. Photo: Author

Mission Rococo in Paraguay and Patagonia Although some of the most unusual Rococo interiors in the Cono Sur grace the former Jesuit, Franciscan, and secular missions of southwestern Paraguay and Patagonia little remains today in a part of the world that has seen more

272 The Spiritual Rococo

5.34 Johann Köhler and Franz Pöllants, St. Francis Xavier, silver plaque, Santiago, Cathedral, ca. 1758–1765. Photo: Author

than its share of natural disasters and warfare, and an examination of Rococo on the missions beyond European settled areas can therefore be little more than a footnote to this study. Paraguay has suffered the most: almost the entire architectural patrimony of the colonial era was destroyed in the devastating War of the Triple Alliance against Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay (1864–1870) compounded by two centuries of neglect and theft. All of its 30 monumental Jesuit Reductions have been destroyed, only five of them—San Ignacio Miní,

“O Happy Vision!” 273

Trinidad, Jesús, San Cosmé, and São Miguel—leaving significant ruins. Any evidence of the Rococo style—and there is very little—is limited to fragments of retablos in a handful of small churches in Paraguay and a museum in Rosario, Argentina. The secular missions nearer Asunción have fared better, a group of colonial churches that still preserve much of their Rococo interiors intact. On the islands of Chiloé, in Chilean Patagonia, severe weather and fire have wiped out all but one of its once equally extensive network of (more modestly sized) eighteenth-century churches built by the Jesuits and Franciscans in a combination Gothic-Rococo style, leaving only the single colonial-era wooden church at Achao. Aside from these relics everything we know about church interiors in these mission territories comes from the archives. The question of the meaning of Rococo in a mission context is a thorny one, since the style’s associations with optimism, happiness, and utopianism treated throughout this book can only be related to the goals of the European missionaries yet the people who carved the sculptural decoration and painted the ceilings and altarpieces in this style were overwhelmingly aboriginal. The Paraguay Reductions and related missions in the areas of South America that were distant from European settlement have come under fire since long before Voltaire’s famous condemnation of the former in Candide (1759), largely because of the jingoistic use of the concept of utopia, which their promoters have traditionally used to celebrate these encounters as equitable meetings of peoples based on social harmony and the redemptive power of the Catholic faith. Recent scholarship has stressed that they operated within a wider program of oppression and imposition of Euro-Christian culture that was marked by a paternalistic attitude on the part of the missionaries and by limited freedom on the part of the missionized and which resulted in a slow destruction of indigenous culture, while writers such as Thomas O’Brien have tried to chart a middle path, suggesting that mission culture represented a negotiation of “the inevitable collision of two disparate peoples in such a way that often the best of both societies arose in what eventually became a hybrid civilization.”120 Nevertheless we cannot interpret the use of Rococo on the missions as a reflection of Amerindian enthusiasm for the ideas of the literature of the Spiritual Rococo or even that these people consciously opted to use Rococo models over Baroque ones, since both styles were imposed upon them by missionaries. Nevertheless as I will discuss further below it is possible that Rococo appealed to aboriginal artists and craftsmen because the abstraction of its forms allowed them to preserve and celebrate aspects of their own culture. Rococo had almost no impact on the Jesuit Guaraní Reductions except for some retablo and furniture carving, both because the principal churches were built before the Rococo took hold in the Cono Sur and because the most influential architects and artists working there (Primoli and the Milanese Giuseppe Brasanelli, 1659–1728) were Italian and worked in the Baroque style of their homeland.121 However Guaraní architects and craftsmen—some

274 The Spiritual Rococo

5.35 San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, Paraguay, completed 1755. Photo: Author

of whom probably did come from the Reductions, by then disbanded— produced some of the most extraordinary Rococo interiors on the continent at the secular mission churches at Yaguarón, Capiatá, Piribebuy, and other villages to the south of Asunción, combining Luso-Brazilian and Germanic models with depictions of native flora, fauna, and indigenous symbols executed in autochthonous carving styles. Although originally Franciscan missions they were handed over in 1745 to secular priests after more than a century of neglect and constant raids from hostile Amerindians and settlers had left them in a miserable state.122 Secular clerics set up a series of fortresses to protect the villages from further attacks and reorganized their farms so that they could become self-sufficient.123 Gerónimo Verdejo, curate of Yaguarón, also promoted large scale building projects as a way to bolster community spirit and of impressing the Guaraní with the Catholic faith. A 1755 report remarked that the church of San Buenaventura in Yaguarón was “the most opulent … both in its temporal goods, cleanliness and the splendor of its divine service,” and in 1761 the Bishop of Asunción noted that Verdejo had the church “well decorated and adorned with curious altars, precious objects of silver and a decent little organ” (Fig. 5.35).124 The churches he and his colleagues built here and in other villages were large but basic rectangular structures like the first generation of Jesuit Reduction churches with a nave and side aisles divided by wooden posts, a pitched wooden roof, and a covered peristyle. But the interiors were

“O Happy Vision!” 275

dominated by Rococo retablos more grandiose even than those of Asunción, accompanied by side altars, confessionals, and pulpits in the same style and painted ceilings of rocailles, flowers, and vines. The richness of this décor was widely criticized as it was, in the words of the Bishop, “a ridiculous thing to have spent not a little in the construction of the high altar retablo at present while the church is so much a thing of the future.”125 For the high altar retablo Verdejo hired the itinerant Portuguese retablo maker José de Sousa Cavadas from Matosinhos near Porto (Fig. 5.36, Plate 15).126 Cavadas immigrated to Brazil around 1742 to take advantage of the building boom in Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais and then worked for the Franciscans in Buenos Aires before coming out to Paraguay in 1752. Inspired by the Jesuit Reductions Verdejo charged Cavadas with creating a crafts workshop where he could train indigenous builders, sculptors, and painters to replicate his work in the other villages and to make furniture for the open market.127 Since some of them probably came from the Reductions they would already have had considerable knowledge of furniture making and other arts. The décor in the Yaguarón church is harmonious, resounding with greens, greys, reds, and violets—a limited but integrated palette derived from local pigments—including delicate ceiling ornamentation formed of blossoms and vines over the nave and under the choir, panel motifs and angels over the chancel, and, in a false dome over the sacristy, elongated rocailles. Together with the trunk-like columns the ceiling makes the church look like a giant

5.36 José de Sousa Cavadas and Guaraní sculptors, High Altar, San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, ca. 1752–1755. Photo: Author

276 The Spiritual Rococo

5.37 Guaraní workshop, confessional (detail), San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, ca. 1752–1755. Photo: Author

5.38 Guaraní workshop, High Altar and chancel, Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, Capiatá, Paraguay, completed 1769. Photo: Author

garden bower. Josefina Plá maintains that although the high altar was executed primarily by Cavadas, there are parts like the flattened, foliate cartouche with Saint Bonaventure in the altar table that resembles Reduction sculpture and is probably by indigenous carvers.128 Plá has also identified native flora and fauna in the garlands of the columns and on the sides— passionflowers, palms, and ferns, which she also sees as evidence that Cavadas was assisted by local craftsmen.129 The high altar combines a pediment derived from Habermann and Hertel’s 300 series with a LusoBrazilian body with Solomonic columns, a deep central niche with receding stage flats, and hood-niches in the wings—ingeniously, a pair of hoods also teeters over the middle pair of angels above (Fig. 5.44).130 Perhaps the most significant departure from Luso-Portuguese tradition is its color scheme:

“O Happy Vision!” 277

instead of overall gilding or gilding against white or a light color as was customary in Luso-Brazilian retábulos it is painted in the deep blues, red, and yellow found elsewhere in the church. The other three surviving retablos and the extravagant pair of confessionals are mostly or entirely made by Guaraní craftsmen (Fig. 5.37). Some details of the confessionals—notably the Solomonic columns and the delicate trelliswork on the ear-like outer scrolls—reflect the style of the high altar, but elsewhere they replicate the flora of their surroundings. In places like the top-heavy pediment the artist has transformed Rococo C-scrolls and rocailles into oversized tropical leaves that extend outward over the sides and form a finial of foliage at the top (the same treatment is used in the right lateral altarpiece). Similarly, the arched priest’s alcove is surmounted by an irregular crown of leaves that would have been rocailles in the engraving. This transformation of Rococo motifs into local vegetation reaches its apogee in the energetic confessionals in the nearby town of San Francisco de Atyrá (late eighteenth century), where the wings and pediment alike come alive with flattened vines, bulky leaves, and scrolls with nary a rocaille to be seen.131 The workshop at Yaguarón was an immediate success as craftsmen from that town travelled to nearby villages—about 20 new churches were built by 1800—and even to Asunción to make retablos and other furnishings, some of which survive in the Cathedral and church of La Trinidad.132 The most spectacular offspring of the Yaguarón project is the high altar of

5.39 Detail of 5.38. Photo: Author

278 The Spiritual Rococo

the church at Capiatá (after 1769), which has less gilding and is therefore even more dominated by rich blue and red polychromy (Figs. 5.38, 5.39, Plate 16). Scholars believe that Cavadas provided the design—at the very least it is a copy of his reredos at Yaguarón—but that it was made by Guaraní artists under the leadership of a certain “Maestro” or “Hermano” Gabriel, who Giuria believes was a student of the Jesuits and whose name allegedly appears underneath one of the panels of the pulpit (I was unable to locate it).133 I have found another possible candidate in the archives, a reference to a carpenter called Gregorio Morales who made an altar table for the Jesuit school in Asunción in 1757.134 The Capiatá retablo has a very different character than the one at Yaguarón, its forms bolder and more planimetric, and it is flatter against the wall and less intensely decorated with wooden reliefs. Passion fruit and flowers have been painted directly onto the panels of the pediment, in the central niche, and above and below the side niches and more rocailles have been transformed into plant parts—on the corbels under the columns the shells look like bushes covered in blossoms. The entire tunnel vault of the chancel is painted in elastic, twisting rocailles in the same colors as the altarpiece. The planimetric style, with frontal figures as seen in the Yaguarón altar table cartouche, reflects a Guaraní interest in surface patterns over volume and their predisposition toward schematic renderings of flora and fauna— including native species such as hummingbirds and passionflowers—which characterized Guaraní sculpture in the Jesuit Reductions (Fig. 5.40). As I have examined elsewhere some of the local plants that adorn these altarpieces

5.40 Guaraní workshop, door pediment (detail), main courtyard, Reduction of San Ignacio Miní, Argentina, completed 1724. Photo: Author

“O Happy Vision!” 279

played key roles in Guaraní religion and myth: notably the passionflower, which took part in the creation story, was associated with rebirth, and was used by shamanic preachers for its trance-inducing qualities; and corn stalks, as seen in one of the Yaguarón side altar tables, which were related to the creator deity and were hung on trees during the great pre-contact inter-tribal conventions like the Nimongaraí to symbolize international fraternity.135 I have proposed earlier that such plants could be linked to a Guaraní conception of creation and salvation, and the Guaraní Paradise called the “Land-WithoutEvil,” but also to indigenous traditions of oratory and community, keeping alive an autochthonous world view.136 Another flourishing tradition of mission Rococo, again merging aboriginal techniques with those of Europe, evolved in the Chiloé Archipelago in Patagonia, the southernmost Christian missions of the pre-Modern world. Originally inhabited by the Huilliche and Chonos peoples, the islands had been occupied by a small Spanish fort and settlement at Castro since the sixteenth century and from 1608 became the focus of a Jesuit mission that was based in three main towns on the island and served a network of 80 indigenous villages on the coast and islands as far south as Tierra del Fuego.137 By 1735 the Tyrolean Anton Miller and the Huilliche carpenters of the island of Quinchao developed a unique architectural style that combined forms derived from indigenous domestic architecture—rectangular wooden halls with verandahs, roofed with alerce shingles, and built on stone foundations— with elements reminiscent of Germanic Wallfahrtskirchen, such as the combination of frontal arcade and central tower over the façade (compare Figs. 3.38, 5.41). The interiors were more richly decorated with inventive vaulting, classical columns, and delicate Rococo ornament (Fig. 5.42). After the 1767 expulsion the churches were taken over by the Franciscans, who continued to commission similar ornamental Rococo carving. The church of Santa María de Loreto at Achao on Quinchao Island is the only eighteenth-century structure to survive in Chiloé (Figs. 5.41–43). Achao became a permanent regional mission center in 1723 and by 1725 the Austrian mission Superior Michael Koller (1694–1731) confirmed that Miller was working on the islands together with a wood turner called Miguel, Miller remaining until 1735.138 The church was widely praised for its richness, as in a 1791 testimony by the Franciscan Pedro Gonzáles de Agüeros which called it “the finest that [the Jesuits] made in the whole archipelago.”139 I suspect, given the Rococo style of the ornamentation, that most of the interior was finished long after Miller left and that we owe much of the surviving décor to the Franciscans. We know for certain that the altarpieces were rebuilt or at least renovated by the Franciscans after 1767: according to a report from 1790 Fray Alfonso Reyna had finished “with the adornment and repair of that church, because he rebuilt (hizo nuevo) the high altar such that there was none better in the archipelago, and similarly four others for the body of the church.”140

280 The Spiritual Rococo

5.41 Anton Miller, Miguel, and others, Santa María de Loreto, Achao, Chile, ca. 1725–ca. 1790 with later additions. Photo: Author

The pièce de resistance is the church’s intricate net vault—it is at once Gothic and Rococo—which combines a scalloped barrel vault over the nave with half groin vaults over each arch, the whole crisscrossed by flat, jagged-edged rocaille ribs cut with a simple bow saw (sierra de carpintero) with multi-layered blossoms at the junctures and a giant flower at the center made of overlapping wooden petals (Fig. 5.42).141 The ceiling is a giant version of the kind of garden trellis that was incorporated into so many Rococo ornamental prints. This veneer of Rococo over Gothic also recalls the rocaillisiert churches of Central Europe like Matthäus Günther’s and Franz Xaver Schmuzer’s Rottenbuch

5.42 Interior of Santa María de Loreto, Achao, Chile. Photo: Author

5.43 Detail of Fig. 5.42. Photo: Author

282 The Spiritual Rococo

5.44 Franz Xaver Habermann, altarpiece design 2 from series 300 (engraving), published by Hertel, Augsburg, ca. 1750. Augsburg, Graphische Sammlung

(Fig. 3.26, Plate 6). The church has a high altar and three subsidiary retablos, one on either side of the apse and one on the right side of the nave, across from the door to the street. All of them are made of flat boards the edges and details of which have been intricately sawn in a style that harmonizes with the ceiling. The interior achieves further unity through a consistency in color, particularly a sky blue made from local vegetal pigments. The tripartite main altar is adorned with jagged moldings like those of the ceiling and combines forms taken from German and French engravings such as convex entablatures, baldachins crowned with Glorias (over the side

“O Happy Vision!” 283

niches), a massive crown of sunbursts over the center, and palm tree capitals over the spindly Solomonic columns—they look as if they were borrowed from a Chinoiserie fantasy by Mondon or Peyrotte (Fig. 5.43). Lacking luxury textiles the artists simply made imitation ones out of layered pieces of wood with lobed edges. The tabernacle, with its relief carvings of Saints Ignatius of Loyola and Francis Xavier and vigorous leafy frames enclosing shells, has been attributed to Miller, and is generally believed to be the only surviving part of the original Jesuit retablo.142 The side altars, again adorned with rocaille ribs like the ceiling, are equally novel, particularly the left retablo for which carpenters made imitation Solomonic columns by layering planks of curvilinear wood on top of each other, recreating the chiaroscuro effect of light cast over a three-dimensional form. Aboriginal sculptors and carpenters in Paraguay and Achao alike sought to create the sensation of bringing nature indoors, through trellises, vines, blossoms, and sky-blue vaults. This desire to celebrate the indigenous natural world seems to be the defining feature of these “mission Rococo” interiors: the evocation of the out of doors that allowed salons in Paris and Louveciennes to evoke the French countryside is here readjusted to bring inside the tropical rainforests or coniferous woodlands of the Guaraní or Huilliche worlds. Perhaps Rococo’s more abstract forms encouraged transformations into local vegetation more easily than did Baroque or Renaissance models before them, although lacking documentation written by the Guaraní craftsmen it is impossible—indeed presumptuous—to make such a claim and Baroque models did not stop Amerindian sculptors in places like Peru from incorporating a wide variety of native flora and fauna into church facades in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.143 Voltaire’s description in Candide of one of the buildings of the Paraguay Reductions as “a leafy summerhouse decorated with a very pretty colonnade of green marble and gold, and lattices enclosing parrots, hummingbirds, colibris, guinea-hens and many other rare birds” may have been a satirical attack on what he believed to be Jesuit rapaciousness and greed, but in its evocation of the aesthetics of these aboriginal-built structures, this enemy of the Rococo and of the Jesuits was not far off the mark.144

Bourbon Reforms and French Spirituality in the Cono Sur Rococo arrived during a time of intensive modernization in Spanish America, as I have already noted. The Bourbon reforms—the most invasive came from Charles III (reigned 1759–1788)—were made by a regime that sought to strengthen Spain’s hold on the American colonies, a society it saw as backward and out of step with the ideals of Enlightenment Europe.145 One of Spain’s projects was to improve its colonies’ financial prosperity so that the motherland could benefit from increased taxation. This capitalist-driven program led to the 1778 free trade agreement whereby Latin American cities

284 The Spiritual Rococo

could trade directly with any port in Spain and it drove Spanish authorities to create a more modern and efficient society that could better produce wealth, instilling “habits of self-restraint, order, and economy within the … populace so that it would work efficiently.”146 This social reform was intimately involved with religion. The Bourbon government reduced the influence of the colonial Church, especially that of the regular clergy—the 1767 Jesuit expulsion was the most extreme manifestation of this policy—and they heavily curtailed outward expressions of devotion such as processions and lay religious groups such as confraternities—the very life blood of religious life in the colonies as we have seen.147 The same incentive was behind the trend seen in this chapter toward fewer statues on retablos and less ostentatious forms of church patronage. Particularly provocative was the 1770 arancel, an ecclesiastical schedule of fees the Crown introduced that sought to control and homogenize the costs of masses and other church ceremonies. In criollo New Spain and other more traditional centers the laity and lower clergy kept to their own ways while appearing to adapt to the new decrees, leading to an increasingly fragmented and schizophrenic church. In aboriginal regions of Peru and Alto Peru these reforms led to the most violent indigenous resistance movement in the history of the Americas, the “Great Rebellion” of Túpac Amaru II (1742–1781) and Túpaj Katari (1750–1781) of 1781–1783.148 Paradoxically, as scholars are now demonstrating, the strengthening of the idea of the autonomous individual caused by the government program of curtailing confraternities, processions, and other expressions of group identity fuelled the independence movement that threw off the Spanish yoke in the early nineteenth century.149 Colonial spirituality was also changing, not directly as a result of top-down reforms but as the clergy gradually abandoned the older Hispanic styles of preaching, with their harshness and asceticism, in favor of the optimistic new French manner. French spiritual works, including the sermons and treatises of the Spiritual Rococo appeared in every sort of library, from colleges, residences, and novitiates, to missions; they were collected by preaching orders like the Jesuits, Mercedarians, Dominicans, and Franciscans, but also by nuns; they were assembled by ecclesiastics and lay people alike, often purchased on the open market straight off the boat in Buenos Aires. These people and institutions collected the works of Nicholas-Sylvestre Bergier, Jacques Boileau, Bossuet, Bourdaloue, François Bretonneau, Claude Buffier, Caraccioli, Jean Croiset, François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon, Charles Frey de Neuville, Antoine-Adrien Lamourette, the Maître de Claville, Massillon, Jean-Baptiste Morvan de Bellegarde, Charles-Joseph Perrin, Guillaume de Segaud, and Charles-Joseph Trublet, as well as Teodoro de Almeida, and French conduct books: guides to gentlemanly behavior such as Les arts de l’homme d’épée: dictionnaire du gentilhomme by Georges Guillet de Saint-Georges (1680) at the Jesuit College in Córdoba, and Jacques-Joseph

“O Happy Vision!” 285

Duguet’s Institution d’un prince (1739) in a 1767 shipment to Buenos Aires; and a copy of salonnière Mme Lambert’s Lettres d’une mère à son fils et à sa fille in the library of Don Francisco de Ortega in the same city in 1790. I am not even including the works by François de Sales in mission libraries, which were too numerous to include in this study. Enthusiasm for things French in the Cono Sur went much further, including an impressive spectrum of eighteenth-century writers of spirituality, rhetoric, behavior, and philosophy from anti-metaphysical philosopher Claude Hadrien Helvetius (1715–1771), to Voltaire—amusingly even the Paraguay Jesuits read his work, although admittedly it was a historical tome called L’histoire de Charles XII, Roi de Suède (1735) and not Candide. Although scholarship on preaching in the eighteenth-century Cono Sur is in its infancy and surviving homilies extremely rare it is logical to assume that colonial ecclesiastics made great use of French sources in crafting their own sermons—at least we know they read them if the substantial number of French dictionaries in the library inventories are any indication.150 Colonial ecclesiastics even sought to recreate the libraries of great French intellectuals. A 1725 document in the archives of the Universidad de Córdoba purports to list the most important books owned by Jean Mabillon as a guide, as its title declares, “to know which ones to order to create a reasonable library.”151 One late eighteenth-century colonial sermon, a manuscript homily on Luke Chapter Six from Buenos Aires, which acknowledges the influence of “a great scholar from the University of Paris,” perfectly encapsulates the ambiance of the Spiritual Rococo. Using language that would not be out of place in the books of Mme Aubert or the Maître de Claville it declares: “O happy vision! What swoons of love do you not create in the heart of a blessed one? How you make him overflow with feelings of thanksgiving! O our God, and I owe it to you, since only by your goodness have you taken me to these palaces, where all is happiness, all a delight, all fragrance, all about losing oneself in sweetnesses, in consolations, in pleasures!”152 One can easily imagine such a sermon being delivered from one of the city’s new Rococo pulpits, as at San Francisco or El Pilar (Figs. 5.19, 5.23). I have also found an undated translation of Lamourette’s Considérations sur l´esprit et les devoirs de la vie Religieuse delivered by Don Francisco Cándido Gutiérrez (1774–1827), a priest at Córdoba Cathedral, to the nuns of Santa Catalina, which he prefaces by explaining: “I was inspired by the thought of presenting in our language these Considérations which the Abbé Lamourette wrote to instruct Mère Thérèse de Saint-Augustin, prioress of the Carmelites of Saint Dionysus. This text is embellished with sublime images, daring metaphors, sound observations, [and] brilliant maxims.”153 Rococo was an ideal reflection of these changes in ritual and spirituality as it offered an airy and uncomplicated alternative to the heavy, saturated Baroques of the colonial heartland and its references to the natural world, luxury, and pleasurable sensations harmonized with the new French-inspired theology of happiness that spread throughout the region. In the Cono Sur as

286 The Spiritual Rococo

in Brazil it became the preferred style of Enlightenment-inspired reformers and utopian missionaries, partly for the simple reason that its logical construction, lightness, and delicacy brought a breath of fresh air to a style of ecclesiastical décor that was considered too complex and overwrought. Augsburg altarpiece models were chosen in Buenos Aires or Santiago not for their elaborateness but because they allowed a return to clear structure—to columns, formal unity, and a reduction of ornament. And on the missions even Native American artists may have found the flexibility and abstraction of Rococo ornament useful as a way of transforming alien ornament into something more familiar, a process that had been less straightforward with the earlier styles that the missionaries imposed on them, notably the Baroque and Mannerism with their greater emphasis on iconography and classical architectural framing devices. Notes 1

From an eighteenth-century manuscript sermon on Luke Chapter Six from Buenos Aires [AGN, Biblioteca Nacional 6224, 2a]. See below and note 152.

2

In 1705 17 boxes of mirrors enclosed in gilded wooden frames made in Saint-Gobain were sent from Saint-Mâlo to an undisclosed location in Latin America. See Bruno Pons, The James A. de Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor: Architecture and Painting (Aylesbury, 1996): 137.

3

On Spanish and Portuguese architects and craftsmen in eighteenth-century Buenos Aires see: María de las Nieves Arias Incollá, “Evolucion arquitectónica,” in María I. Soulés et al., eds, Manzana de las Luces: Iglesia de San Ignacio XVII-XX (Buenos Aires, 1983): 84–6; Ramón Gutiérrez, ed., Alemanes en la arquitectura argentina (Buenos Aires, 2010): 29–32; Héctor Schenone, ‘Retablos y púlpitos,’ in Historia general del arte en la Argentina I (Buenos Aires, 1982): 237–8; Guillermo Furlong, El trasplante cultural: arte (Buenos Aires, 1969): 284; Héctor Schenone, “Tallistas portugueses en el Río de la Plata,” Anales del Instituto de Arte Americano e Investigaciones Estéticas 8 (1955): 40–56. On the new and expanded churches in Buenos Aires between 1730 and 1790 also see Ricardo González, “El culto público,” in Ricardo González et al., Arte, culto e ideas: Buenos Aires, Siglo XVIII (Buenos Aires, 1999): 68.

4

For the Dietterlin engraving see Francisco Javier Herrera García, El retablo sevillano en la primera mitad del siglo XVIII (Seville, 2001): 255; R.C. Taylor, “Francisco Hurtado and His School,” The Art Bulletin, 32, 1 (March, 1950): 27.

5

For the San Esteban altar see Rodgríguez G. de Ceballos, El siglo XVIII: entre tradición y academia (Madrid, 1992): 121; On the Cuzco retablo see Ruben Vargas Ugarte, Los Jesuitas del Perú y el arte (Lima, 1963): 70.

6

Herrera, El retablo sevillano, 313–60; Marco Díaz, La arquitectura de los Jesuitas en Nueva España (Mexico City, 1982): 146–56.

7

Herrera, El retablo sevillano, 253–71. John P. O’Neill, Mexico: Splendors of Thirty Centuries (New York, 1990): 358.

8

Mexico: Splendors of Thirty Centuries, 358–9.

9

Herrera, El retablo sevillano, 253. There is still no comprehensive study of Rococo in Spanish retablos or religious décor.

10

Alfredo J. Morales et al., Guía artística de Sevilla y su provincia (Seville, 2004): I, 48–50; II, 229–31.

11 Morales, Guía artística, II, 199. 12

UPM, 23.397-B-6.

13

Taylor, “Francisco Hurtado,” 33, 36–7, 48, 51.

14

George Kubler and Martín Soría, Art and Architecture in Spain and Portugal and their American Dominions 1500–1800 (Baltimore, 1959): 169; Manuel Toussaint, Arte Colonial en México (Mexico City, 1948): fig. 321; Francisco de la Maza, El arte colonial en San Luis Potosí (Mexico City, 1985): plates 87–94; Ana María Urruela de Quezada, El tesoro de la Merced: arte e historia (Guatemala City, 1997): 51.

“O Happy Vision!” 287

15

Alejandra Kennedy Troya, “La escultura en el virreinato de Nueva Granada y la audiencia de Quito,” in Ramón Gutiérrez, ed., Pintura, escultura y artes útiles en Iberoamérica, 1500–1825 (Madrid, 1995): 245]; Gabrielle G. Palmer, Sculpture in the Kingdom of Quito (Albuquerque, 1987): 112.

16

Francisco Gil Tovar, “La versión virreinal del rococó,” in Manuel Salvat, ed., Historia del arte colombiano V (Barcelona and Bogota, 1977): 1004–6; Santiago Sebastián, Estudios sobre el arte y la arquitectura coloniales en Colombia (Bogotá, 2006): fig. 258; Gabriel Cevallos García, Arte Colonial en Ecuador (Quito, 1985): 74–5; Kennedy, “La escultura,” fig. 46.

17

António de San Cristobal, “La Catedral de Lima en la arquitectura virreinal” in Villena Lohmann, et al., eds, La basilica catedral de Lima (Lima, 2004): fig. 21; Rafael Ramos Sosa, “La grandeza de lo que hay dentro: escultura y artes de la madera” in Lohmann, La basílica catedral, 158–64; Damián Bayón and Murilo Marx, History of South American Colonial Art and Architecture (New York, 1992): figs. 566–74; Ricardo Estabridis Cárdenas, “La escultura en Trujillo,” in Colección arte y tesoros del Perú: Escultura en el Perú (Lima, 1999): 157–60.

18

See Gauvin Alexander Bailey, The Andean Hybrid Baroque (Notre Dame, 2010): 249–54.

19

José de Mesa and Teresa Gisbert, “La escultura en Cusco,” in Escultura en el Perú, figs. 217–18.

20

Alonso de Ovalle, Historica relatione del regno de Cile (Rome, 1646): 454; Walter Hanisch, “El P Carlos Haimbhausen SJ precursor de la industria chilena,” Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte von Staat, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft Lateinamerikas 10 (1973): 144.

21

Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 145; Eugenio Pereira Salas, Historia del arte en el reino de Chile (Santiago, 1965): 80.

22

Dalmacio Sobrón, Giovanni Andrea Bianchi: un arquitecto italiano en los albores de la arquitectura colonial argentina (Córdoba, 1997): 58. See Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “The Calera de Tango of Chile (1741–67): The Last Great Mission Art Studio of the Society of Jesus,” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu LXXIV, 147 (January–June 2005): 175–206; Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “Cultural Convergence at the Ends of the Earth: The Unique Art and Architecture of the Jesuit Missions to the Chiloé Archipelago (1608–1767),” in John W. O’Malley et al., eds, The Jesuits II: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts, 1540–1773 (Toronto, 2006): 211–39; Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “The Jesuits and the Non-Spanish Contribution to South American Colonial Architecture,” in Hilmar M. Pabel and Kathleen M. Comerford, eds, Early Modern Catholicism: Essays In Honour of John O’Malley (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001): 211–40; Felix Alfred Plattner, Deutsche Meister des Barock in Südamerika (Basel, Freiburg, Vienna, 1960): 18.

23

Anton Sepp, Relación de viaje a las misiones jesuíticas (Buenos Aires, 1971): I, 123–4. On Sepp see Graciela María Viñuales, “Los jesuítas de origen alemán. Su obra en el Río de la Plata,” in Ramón Gutiérrez and Patricia Méndez, eds, Alemanes en la arquitectura argentina (Buenos Aires, 2010): 26–8; Gauvin Alexander Bailey, Art on the Jesuit Missions in Asia and Latin America, 1542–1773 (Toronto, 1999): 151–5, 158–9; Alberto de Paula, Ramón Gutiérrez, Graciela Viñuales, Influencia alemana en la arquitectura argentina (Resistencia, 1981): 12–13; Guillermo Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos durante la dominación hispánica (Buenos Aires, 1946): 123–6; Guillermo Furlong, Misiones y sus pueblos de Guaranies (Buenos Aires, 1962): 525; Philip Caraman and C.J. McNaspy, “Sepp von Reinegg, Anton,” in Charles E. O’Neill and Joaquín M. Domínguez, Diccionario histórico de la Compañía de Jesús (Rome and Madrid, 2001): IV, 3555–6; Vicente Sierra, Los jesuitas germanos en la conquista spiritual de Hispano-América (Buenos Aires, 1944): 256–7. In the triennial catalogues Sepp is first listed as being in Paraguay in 1692, then in the Paraná reductions between 1693 and 1695, then on the Uruguay reductions in 1697, 1703, 1710, 1715, 1720, 1724, and 1730 [ARSI, Paraq. 4II, 429b, 461b; Paraq. 6, 18a, 44a, 67a, 87b, 118a, 146b; Paraq. 7, 34a, 38a, 41b, 44a, 47b, 52b]. Various ecclesiastical libraries in Bavaria possessed copies of his work including Stift Polling, with a German edition published in Nurnberg in 1697, and not surprisingly his novitiate at Landsberg, which had a Latin edition from 1728 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3478; BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 I]. See also Furlong, Misiones, 314; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 261.

24

The triennial catalogues first refer to Kraus in 1701, giving Pilsen as his birthplace. In 1703 he is called an “architectus” (architect) and in 1710 it says “curam habet de fabricae” (“he is in charge of building”). The term “architect” was not used lightly and specified someone with professional training [ARSI Paraq. 4II, 489b; Paraq. 6, 2a, 20a, 40a]. His death is announced in the annual letter of 1720, which also attributes to him a “large part” (“magnam partem”) of the construction of the Jesuit churches in Buenos Aires and Córdoba [Paraq. 9, 350a]. See also Viñuales, Jesuitas, 13–14; Gutiérrez et al, Influencia alemana, 28–9; Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos, 126–38; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 261.

25

Dalmacio H. Sobrón, Giovanni Andrea Bianchi, un arquitecto en los albores de la arquitectura colonial argentina, 58; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 145.

26

The 1720 and 1724 catalogues merely call Wolff a “domestic,” but in 1730, 1735, 1739, and 1740 they note that he works “in sculpture” (“de sculptoria”) or simply that he is a “sculptor” and in 1741 and 1744 he is called a “faber lignarius” (woodcarver or carpenter) [ARSI, Paraq. 6, 83a, 116b,

288 The Spiritual Rococo

145a, 183a, 261b, 297a; Paraq. 7, 62b, 69b]. He was born in Bamberg. From 1724 he was resident in Tarija (now Bolivia). See also See also Viñuales, Jesuitas, 20–21; Gutiérrez et al, Influencia alemana, 31–2; Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos, 126–38; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 251, 260. 27

References in the triennial catalogues include ARSI, Paraq. 6, 83a, 114a, 139a, 177b, 218b, 245a; Paraq. 7, 57b. 58b. In the first listings he is simply called a domestic; he is first called an “architectus” in 1735 and again in 1736, 1739, and 1740. See also Sobrón, Giovanni Andrea Bianchi; Philip Caraman, “Bianchi (Blanqui), Giovanni Andrea” in O’Neill and Dominguez, Diccionario, I, 436; Dalmacio Sobrón, “Acerca de la arquitectura del hermano Andrés Blanqui, S.J.,” in La Salvaguarda del Patrimonio Jesuítico: seminario post congreso Posadas 1994 II Congreso Internacional de Rehabilitación del Patrimonio Arquitectónico y Edificación (Buenos Aires: Ediciones Montoya, 1995): 19–33; Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “‘Just Like the Gesù:’ Sebastiano Serlio, Giacomo Vignola, and Jesuit Architecture in South America,” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu LXX, 140 (July– December, 2001): 233–64; Furlong, Misiones, 551.

28

The triennial catalogues first describe Primoli as a “domesticus” but in 1730 his field is noted as “fabrilia” (carpentry) and in 1735 and 1739 as “architectonica” (architecture) [ARSI Paraq. 6, 112b, 148b, 185a, 225b, 341b]. In a 1742 triennial catalogue of the Society in Paraguay he is listed as “architectus” [AGN IX.6-9-7, f. 702], and he is at San Miguel in 1735 [AGN, Bib. Nac.69 (Consultas desde 1731 hasta 1747), 81a, 86b] See J. Baptista and Philip Caraman, “Primoli, Giovanni Battista” in O’Neill and Dominguez, Diccionario, IV, 3232; Bailey, Art on the Jesuit Missions, 50, 160, 197.

29

In the 1735, 1739, 1744, and 1748 triennial catalogues Schmidt is listed as a “sculptor,” first in Paraná and at the Buenos Aires residence [ARSI Paraq. 6, 185a, 221a, 258a, 294a]. He was born in Mindelheim. See Viñuales, Jesuitas, 21–5; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 264–5; Gutierrez et al, Influencia alemana, 32–5. Furlong notes that he was primarily a retablo maker [Guillermo Furlong, Artesanos argentinos durante la dominación hispánica (Buenos Aires, 1946): 158–70].

30

Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 145.

31 Viñuales, Jesuitas, 27–8; De Paula et al, Influencia, 12–13; For Sepp’s own description of the cemetery chapel see, Anton Sepp, Continuación de las labores apostólicas, 256. On the importance of Altötting as the premier pilgrimage site of Wittelsbach Bavaria, see Christiane Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria: the Sculptor Ignaz Günther and Eighteenth-Century Aesthetic Art Theory (University Park, 2011): 62–4. Sepp may have based his design on one of the many devotional prints made of Altötting, many of them including depictions of the shrine chapel. See Hans Bleibrunner, Andachtsbilder aus Altbayern (Munich, 1971): 50–55. Anton Harls was born in Tegernsee and reached Buenos Aires on one of the last voyages, in 1748. See Viñuales, Jesuitas, 25–6; Gutiérrez et al, Influencia alemana, 36; Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos, 215–22; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 260; Paula, Influencia alemana, 25–6; Gutiérrez, Alemanes en la arquitectura, 36; Mario J. Buschiazzo, La estancia jesuítica de Santa Catalina (Buenos Aires, 1940). On Wilton see Karin Hösch, Basilika Wilten-Innsbruck (Passau, 2000): 12–13. 32

Johannes Meier and Michael Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa in Portugiesisch- und SpanischAmerika 2: Chile (Münster, 2011): VII–IX.

33

There are three references to Bitterich in the triennial catalogues of the Upper Rhine province from 1705 to 1714. The first (1705) places him in the Mainz professed house and identifies him as a “statuarius” (sculptor) [ARSI, Rhen. Sup. 17, fol. 64a]. In 1711 he is already in the Bamberg College and is also listed as a “statuarius” [ARSI, Rhen. Sup. 17, 145b]. A reference from 1714, when he was working on the sculptures at the Martinskirche, specifically notes that he “exercised [his] art in several sculptures in the College” (“exercuit artem statuarij varijs in collegÿs”) [ARSI, Rhen. Sup. 17, 271a]. On Bitterich see Johannes Meier, “Johann Bitterich und die Indios von Oberursel,” Würzburger Diözesan-Geschichtsblätter 62/63 (2001): 945–52; Fernando Guzmán, Representaciones del Paraíso: Retablos en Chile, siglos XVIII y XIX (Santiago, 2009): 48–9; Bailey, “The Calera de Tango of Chile,” 175–206; J. Braun, Die Kirchenbauten der deutschen Jesuiten (Freiburg im Breisgau, 1910): II, 294; Bernhard Duhr, Geschichte der Jesuiten in den Länden deutscher Zunge im 18. Jahrhundert (Munich and Regensburg, 1928), IV/2, p. 513; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 258; Pereira, Historia, 80–81. See also Plattner, Deutsche Meister, 24; Javier González Echenique, Arte colonial en Chile (Santiago, 1978): 38–40.

34

Claudia Maué, “Bildhauerkunst under den Grafen von Schönborn 1650–1770,” in Gerhard Bott, Die Grafen von Schönborn (Nuremberg, 1989): 130–31.

35

Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 319–28. Bitterich died on December 31, 1720 as recorded in ARSI, Chil. 2 (Catalogus defunctorum, 1678–1734), 302b. In a list of personnel at the Santiago College of San Miguel from the same year he is described as a “statuarius” [ARSI, Chil. 3, 234a].

36

Quoted in Joseph Stöcklein, Der neue Welt-Bott (Augsburg 1728–1758), I, 206. The full text appears also in Duhr, Geschichte, 513–14; and in Meier, “Johann Bitterich,” 951–2. Excerpts are quoted in Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 322; Guzmán, Representaciones, 47; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 238; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 144; Walter Hanisch, Historia de la Compañía de Jesús en Chile (Buenos Aires and Santiago 1974): 121.

“O Happy Vision!” 289

37

See Gauvin Alexander Bailey and Fernando Guzmán, “Two German Sculptors who transformed the Arts of Colonial Chile: Johannes Bitterich and Jacob Kelner,” forthcoming; Gauvin Alexander Bailey and Fernando Guzmán, “The ‘Saint Sebastian’ of Los Andes: A Chilean Cultural Treasure Re-examined,” The Burlington Magazine CLIII (November 2011): 721–6; M.L. Amunátegui, “Apuntes sobre lo que han sido las Bellas Artes en Chile,” Revista de Santiago III (1849): 42. For Jesuit retablos in Chile see: Guzmán, Representaciones, 47–70.

38 ARSI Rhen Sup. 42, 134a (Würzburg, 1 March 1722). The letter, addressed to Jesuit Father General Tamburini, is noted in Michael Müller, “Mainzer Jesuitenmissionare in Übersee im 18. Jahrhundert. Eine erste Forschungsbilanz,” in Mainzer Zeitschrift. Mittelrheinisches Jahrbuch für Archäologie, Kunst und Geschichte 99 (2004): 12 n. 90; Duhr, Geschichte, 513, and Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 90. For the original German text see Bailey and Guzmán, “Saint Sebastian,” 726, note 29. See also Walter Hanisch Espíndola, “Calera de Tango, cuna industrial de Chile,” Boletín de la Academia Chilena de la Historia 93 (1982): 166; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 146; Hanisch, Historia, 109; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 243–51; Pereira, Historia, 81; Claudio A. Ferrari Peña, “La influencia de los jesuitas bávaros en la arquitectura y el arte chilenos del siglo XVIII,” Symposium internazionale sul barocco latino americano (Rome: Istituto Italo-Latino Americano, 1980); 200–25; Mario Buschiazzo, Historia de la arquitectura colonial en iberoamérica (Buenos Aires, 1961): 128–9. There are discrepancies in the literature about how many missionaries reached Chile but I follow Meier and Müller. 39

“Exercuit artem scrinarium, quam praeclare callet” [ARSI Rhen. Sup. 42a, 139a]. The triennial catalogues usually describe him as a cabinetmaker or “scrinarius.” For example in the 1705 catalogue he is listed as having been a cabinetmaker for nine years (“scriniari 9”) [ARSI, Rhen. Sup. 17, 44a]; and in the 1711 catalogue he is described as a “scrinarius” (fol. 77a). In the triennial catalogues of 1737 and 1742 he is listed as being in Mendoza and is described as a “faber lignarius et director fabricae” (carpenter or woodworker and building foreman) [ARSI, Chil. 3, 234a, 243a]. The catalogues of 1724 and 1726 do not give his profession [Chil. 2, 322b, 324a, 330b]. For other references from his time in Germany, including one from 1718/1719 that describes him as an “arcularius” (cabinetmaker) see: Müller, “Mainzer Jesuitenmissionare,” 11. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 332–5.

40 ARSI Chil. 2, 322b, 328a, 348b; Chil. 3, 6a. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 342–3. 41

In 1722 before his departure for Chile the triennial catalogues call Vogl a stucco worker (“exercuit artem laborandi in gypso”) [ARSI, Rhen. Sup. 42, 139a]. In the 1737, 1742, 1753, and 1755 catalogues, where he is located at the college of San Miguel in Santiago, he is described as an “architectus et director fabricate” or simply “architectus” [ARSI Chile 3, 238a, 241a, 245b, 249b, 255b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 424–6; Sierra, Historia, 259; Hanisch, “Calera,” 170. See also Hugo Schnell and Uta Schedler, Lexikon der Wessobrunner Künstler und Handwerker (Munich, 1988): 312, 319, which mentions Peter but does not identify his father and says he was active in Chile only in the nineteenth century.

42

Quote from Pereira, Historia, 81, see also 102. Pereira mistakenly identifies Motsch as Max Emanuel’s son. Motsch is not included in Meier and Müller’s book but is mentioned in Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 257.

43

Schnell and Schedler, Lexikon, 177–9.

44

The triennial catalogue for 1737 describes Herre as a “carpenter and overseer of construction” (“faber lignaris et director fabricate”) in Bucalemu; and in 1742 he had the same title at Coquimbo [ARSI, Chil. 3, 239a, 243b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 357–9; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 259; Ernesto Greve, Historia de la Ingeniería en Chile (Santiago, 1938) II, 95.

45 ARSI, Chil. 2, 324b, 344b. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 380–83; Pereira, Historia, 113–14. 46

He entered the Society in Landsberg in 1709. For the most comprehensive source material on Haimbhausen see Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 175–90; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” especially pp. 157–72. See also Pereira, Historia, 82–5; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 238–42.

47

Hanisch, “Calera,” 167; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 135–7.

48 Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 247. 49

Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 158; Pereira, Historia, 83; Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 90–91, 182. On September 24, 1744 the Spanish King promised to provide funds to “embiar misioneros a aquella provincial” (send missionaries to that Provincial, that is Haimhausen) to help with the dire situation following the 1730 earthquake [AGN, IX 45-03-13, Jesuitas 1743–1767, 183a].

50

“… tales autem, qui sint testores pannorum, vel chirurgo, apothecarii, sartores eximii, architecti, et praecipue fabri lignarii, quo majus aliquod aedificium, ut templum, extruse; aut etiam si pictor habeat in arte sua bene versatum. Quod si nullum eiusmodi artificem reperiat ex nostris, etiam

290 The Spiritual Rococo

candidatos aliquos nominase mihi potent, quam in Religione nostra …” [ARSI, Epp NN 9 Epistolae communes 1681–1770, 169a-b (17 July 1745)]. Cited and paraphrased in Spanish in Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 162. See also Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 238–9. 51

“aliqui pharmacopiae, chirurgii, pannifices, panni tonsores, fabri arcularii, lignarii, cementarii, architectonicae, vel agriculturae periti … infra et extra Societatem” [ARSI, Germ. Sup. 15 I, Epist. Gen., 1731–1741, 407–8].

52

Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 92–3; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 164; Hanisch, Historia, 110; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 241–2. There is a list of the Jesuits who went on this voyage in the Jesuit archives in Rome [ARSI, Chil. 3, 70a].

53

Kellner is listed in the 1751, 1753, and 1755 triennial catalogues as a “statuarius” and as resident at the Santiago College [ARSI, Chil., vol. 3, 246a, 252a, 256a]. A list of brothers destined to go to Chile dated November 20, 1745 has this to say about Kellner: “Jacobus Keller statuarius qui etiam in arte delindeandi bene profecit” (“Joseph Kellner, sculptor, who also made good progress in the art of drawing”) [ARSI, Germ. Sup. 15 II, 694a]. On Kellner see also Müller, “Mainzer Jesuitenmissionare,” 14; Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 361–5.

54

In 1755 Köhler was at the Colegio Máximo as an “aurifaber” (goldsmith) [ARSI, Chil. 3, 255b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 365–70. On the silver objects see Luis Roa Urzúa, “El arte colonial en Chile,” Revista Chilena de Historia y Geografía 65 (1929): 34–7; Pereira, Historia, 86. Pereira dates the monstrance to 1746.

55

Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 370–71. Kollman is listed as a “dispensarius in Villa Calera” (porter at the hacienda Calera de Tango) in 1751 and 1753 [ARSI, Chil. 3, 245b, 252a].

56

In 1742, 1743, and 1755 Pöllants is designated an “aurifaber” (goldsmith) [ARSI, Chil. 3, 245b, 249b, 255b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 391–6.

57

In 1751 and 1753 Redle is referred to as a “pictor” (painter) and was at the Santiago college [ARSI, Chil. 3, 426a, 252a]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 398–401; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 197; Hanisch, Historia, 118; Isabel Cruz de Amenabar and Graciela M. Viñuales, “La pintura en Chile y en el virreinato del Río de La Plata,” in Gutiérrez, Pintura, escultura y artes útiles, 180–81.

58

The catalogues for 1742, 1753, and 1755 specifically call Grueber a “church builder” (faber lignarius ecclesiae) [ARSI, Chil. 3, 245b, 252a, 255b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 445–7; Bailey, “Just like the Gesù,” 233–66.

59

Lanz is listed as a “statuarius” (sculptor) in the catalogue of 1751, where it is noted with a cross that he has left the Society [ARSI, Chil., 3., 246a] He is also included in a list of temporal coadjutors arriving in Chile in 1748 [Chil., 3., 78a].

60

Pereira, Historia, p. 83; Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 104.

61

Hanisch, “Calera,” 167; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 176. Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 94–5, 183. The library of the Jesuit novitiate in Landsberg had a copy of an unidentified Italian treatise on the arts, Pittori, scultori è architettori, various books on the monuments of Rome including Domenico Fontana’s lavishly illustrated manual on the public works commissions he made for Pope Sixtus V (Della transportatione dell’obelisco Vaticano e delle fabriche di Sisto V, Rome, 1590), as well as Spanish dictionaries and books on more practical trades such as agriculture and medicine [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II]. It also had, as noted above, a copy of Sepp’s description of Paraguay, which I suspect may have inspired some of these young men during their early training. For the library’s holdings of French spiritual works see Appendix A.

62

Hagen is called a “faberlignarius” (carpenter/woodworker) in 1753 [ARSI Chil. 3, 251b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 348–52; Guzmán, Representaciones, 50.

63

Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 386–8; The triennial catalogue of 1753 refers to Krüner as a “fabermurarius” (mason) [ARSI Chil. 3, 251b]; see also Guzmán, Representaciones, 50.

64

The 1753 catalogue calls Ambros a “pictor” (painter) [ARSI, Chil. 3, 251b]. See also Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 313–16; Pereira, Historia, 101.

65 ANC, Capitanía General 425 (Temporalidades), 38a. For illustrations see Pereira, Historia, plates 51–3. 66

Elsewhere I have published inventories that allow a reconstruction of the location of the workshops, the kind of tools the artisans used, the objects they made, and the scale of production. See Bailey, “Calera de Tango,” 187–98. The inventories are in ANC, Capitanía General 452 and Fondo Jesuítico 2 (Autos de los Inventarios de Hacienda de la Calera). See also: Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 105–10; Hanisch “Calera de Tango,” 159–60; Hanisch, Historia, 109–52; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 133–206; Pereira Historia, 80–117; Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 243–7; Horacio Aranguiz Donoso, “Notas para el estudio de la Hacienda de la Calera de Tango, 1685–1783,” Historia, 6 (1967): 221–62.

“O Happy Vision!” 291

67

The inventories of the silver and gold workshops are in ANS, Fondo Jesuitico 7, 15b–16a. Castillanos, or marcos castillanos (230 grams) were equivalent to eight onzas (28.76 grams), which were equivalent to 16 adarmes (1.79 grams). See also Hanisch, “Calera,” 171; Hanisch, “Haimbhausen,” 192–3; Hanisch, Historia, 123–6; Pereira, Historia, 87.

68

For the literature on copying prints see Chapter 4, note 141.

69

See Luis Mebold, Catálogo de pintura colonial en Chile (Santiago, 1985): 72–107.

70

On the New Spanish murals see Samuel Y. Edgerton, Theaters of Conversion: Religious Architecture and Indian Artisans in Colonial Mexico (Albuquerque, 2001):130-53 and on Renaissance and Baroque models for motifs in Peruvian Baroque architecture see: Ilmar Luks, “Tipología de la escultura decorativa hispánica en la arquitectura andina del siglo XVIII,” Boletín del Centro de Investigaciones Históricas y Estéticas 17 (número especial).

71

Ricardo González, “Los retablos mayores de Buenos Aires,” in Facultad de Filosofía y Letras de la Universidad de Buenos Aires, Memorias de las III Jornadas del Instituto Julio Payró (Buenos Aires, 1998), 3.

72

Brian Larkin, The Very Nature of God (Albuquerque, 2010): 7; Karen Melvin, Building Colonial Cities of God (Stanford, 2012): 7.

73

Ciudad de Buenos Aires (Buenos Aires, 2006): II, 179–81; 223; María I Soulés et al., Manzana de las Luces: Iglesia de San Ignacio XVII–XX (Buenos Aires, 1983); De Paula, Influencia alemana, 14–20; El Templo de San Ignacio (Buenos Aires, 1947); Stella Genovese-Oeyen, Buenos Aires Colonial: Arquitectura Jesuitica del Siglo XVIII: La iglesia de San Ignacio (Buenos Aires, 1946).

74

“qui in huius templi, et collegii cordobensis edificationem magnam partem suorum laborum contulerit” [ARSI, Paraq. 9, (Ann. Litt. 1714–20), 350a]. A document in a legal case of November 6, 1760 notes that “en solo dos meses pudo el H[erman]o Primoli levantar las paredes desde la mitad de las claraboyas hasta echar la bobeda del medio” [AGN, IX 6-10-4, Compañía de Jesús 1759–60, 897a]. In the year of Kraus’s death he was still working furiously on the project: the Jesuit Provincial Luis de la Roca ordered that he not be allowed to go work on projects on the missions “except on rare occasions” (sino a raras vezes) [AGN, IX 6-9-5, Compañía de Jesús 1703–22, 502a]. See also Sierra, Jesuitas germanos, 262–3. Concerning Gerhard Letten, the triennial catalogues call Letten a “faber lignarius” (1735, 1736, 1739, 1740, 1741, 1744, 1758) and “lignarius” (1748) [ARSI, Paraq. 7, 58a, 62a, 64b, 68a, 74b, 76a; Paraq. 6, 221a, 257b, 293b]. See also Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos, 215, 221, 238; Furlong, Artesanos argentinos, 108–9. A legal document of September 4, 1761 notes that “hermano Gerardo Lethen” was working on the college buildings ca. 1729 [AGN, IX 6-10-5, Compañía de Jesús 1761–62, 304a].

75

At this point the church “was in danger of collapsing” (amenaza ruina) according to the Visitor’s report [AGN, IX-6-9-6, Compañía de Jesús 1723–34, 318a].

76

María de las Nieves Arias Incollá, “Evolución arquitectónica,” in Soulés, Manzana de las Luces, 96.

77

Ciudad de Buenos Aires, II, 193; Furlong, Artesanos argentinos, 158–70.

78

Kohl is described as a “faber lignarius” in 1758 [ARSI, Paraq. 6, 353a; Paraq. 7, 76a]. He does not appear in the secondary literature.

79

The carpentry shop at San Ignacio is called “Carpintería del cargo del Herm[an]o Conrrado Kel,” with six workbenches, and copious tools and wood. [AGN IX 7-3-7 Temporalidades Colegio de San Ignacio (1776), 180b–182b]. Curiously Furlong says it belonged to Letten [Furlong, Artesanos argentinos, 109]. In 1757 architect Antonio Masella called Letten “inteligente en el arte de albañilería y Maestro Mayor de las obras del Colegio” [Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos, 238]. Ott is described as a “lignarius faber” in 1748 and 1753 [ARSI, Paraq. 6, 291a, 354b]. See Furlong, Arquitectos argentinos, 227–8. Balthäfer is described as a “faber lignarius” in 1758 [ARSI, Paraq. 7, 75b]. He does not appear in the secondary literature.

80 AGS, G 3079.1958.1. 81

On Lorea see Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 243–7; Guillermo Furlong, El trasplante cultural: arte, 298; Ciudad de Buenos Aires I (Buenos Aires, 1998): 46; González, “Los retablos mayores,” 11; Adolfo Luis Ribera and Héctor H. Schenone, El arte de la imaginería en el Río de la Plata (Buenos Aires, 1948): 28–30, 42; González, “El culto público,” 71, 75–6; R. González, “Los retablos de la Catedral de Buenos Aires,” Anales del Instituto de Arte Argentino y Americano Mario Buschiazzo 39 (2005–2006): 3, 8–9.

82

On Hernández, who possibly came from Valladolid, see Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 247; Furlong, El trasplante cultural, 298; Ribera and Schenone, El arte de la imaginería, 32–47; Ciudad de Buenos Aires I, 189.

83

González, “Los retablos mayores,” 7.

292 The Spiritual Rococo

84

“el retablo Nuevo no se doró hasta el año de 40 en el rectorado del P. Arroyo” [AGN, IX 6-10-5, Compañía de Jesús 1761–62, 322a].

85

González dates the altarpiece to ca. 1760–1767 [Ricardo González, “El retablo mayor de San Ignacio de Buenos Aires,” in II Jornadas del Instituto de Arte Argentino y americano (Buenos Aires, 2004): 1].

86 GSA, G.4148, 4149, 4151. 87

On the retablo at Santa Catalina see Ciudad de Buenos Aires I, 295–7 (Lorea also did the retablo of San Martin de Porres and the Retablo del Calvario in the same church). González publishes a document that shows the retablo has to date before 1770 when the convent owed money on it in arrears [Gonzalez “El culto público,” 11]. On the pulpit at San Francisco see Ciudad de Buenos Aires II, 454, 457.

88

For example ENSBA, Est. Les. 60b, 26a.

89

Héctor Schenone comments that “en cuya composición predomina lo sinuoso, de modo tal que ninguna línea recta interfiere en el libre juego de las curvas, convirtiéndola en la obra más decididamente rococó que se ha producido en nuestro territorio.” Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 272.

90

Schenone characterizes it as the “altar de concepción más audaz y poco frecuente en el panorama americano” [Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 245]. See also Ribera and Schenone, El arte de la imaginería, 29; Furlong, El trasplante cultural, 284. For a detailed analysis of the altar’s plan see Gonzalez, “Retablos mayores,” 11.

91

J.F. Blondel, Nouveau livre des cinque ordres (Paris 1761), plates 48–50.

92

I have found an unpublished full version of a recommendation, dated 14 September 1782 to place the altarpiece in the middle of the Capilla Mayor preceded by Spanish-style choirstalls (unlike the traditional Latin American placement over the entrance to the church) [AGN, Bib. Nac. 6216]. Initially this recommendation was ignored and the retablo was unveiled in the center of the Capilla Mayor, but after 1803 it was moved to the end wall where it stood until it was moved forward again several meters during the recent renovation (2010–2012) under Vanesa Pedreira. A shorter version of the text is in E. Peña, Documentos y planos relativos al periodo edilicio colonial IV (Buenos Aires, 1910): IV, 207–8. I am grateful to Vanesa Pedreira for providing me with information regarding the renovation.

93

Schenone was the first to attribute some of the sotabanco panels to Hernández [Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 247]. See also Ciudad de Buenos Aires I, 46–7; González, “Los retablos de la Catedral de Buenos Aires,” 1–4; José Torre Revello, La Catedral (Buenos Aires, 1947): 22–3; Ribera and Schenone, El arte de la imaginería, 36. Furlong merely stated that the retablo was not directly by Lorea’s hand [Furlong, El trasplante cultural, 284]. Hernández founded an academy of drawing (Academia del Dibujo) with 50 students in 1799 where he styled himself a “Professor of Sculpture, Architecture, and Adornment.” On Saravia at La Merced see González, Arte, culto e ideas, 71; Ciudad de Buenos Aires I, 207–11; Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 247.

94

González, “Los retablos de la Catedral de Buenos Aires,” 3, 8–9. See also Ciudad de Buenos Aires I, 46–7; Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 250.

95 ENSBA, Est. Les. 137, 16a. See also Désiré Guilmard, Les maîtres ornemenistes: dessinateurs, peintres, architectes, sculpteurs et graveurs. Écoles Française, Italienne, Allemande et des Pays-Bas I (Paris, 1880): 173. 96

For general studies of the church of El Pilar, some mainly photographic essays, see La Iglesia del Pilar (Buenos Aires, 1945); Templo de Nuestra Señora del Pilar: una reliquia colonial (Buenos Aires, 1942); Andrés Millé, La recoleta de Buenos Aires: una visión del siglo XVIII (Buenos Aires, 1952); Schenone, “Tallistas portugueses,” 41.

97

Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 254–6.

98

Ciudad de Buenos Aires I, 158–9; González, “Los retablos mayores,” 2–4; Ribera and Schenone, Arte de la imaginería, 24, Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos, 243; Furlong, El trasplante cultural, 292.

99

González, “Retablos mayores,” 3.

100 Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 243. 101 UPM, 23.397-B-17 102 Schenone, “Retablos y púlpitos,” 232, 239. 103 “es una pieza de quinze pasos de largo y ocho de ancho de Bobeda curiosam[en]te trabajada, y un adorno en medio de estuco en la qual ay una Alazena grande pinttada de azul y oro, en que se guardan los fronttales” [AGHUC, Temporalidades Córdoba, Caja 3, No. 11, Legajo 5, 1072a-b].

“O Happy Vision!” 293

104 The expulsión inventories remark that the Alta Gracia altarpiece is “à la moderna” [AGHUC, Temporalidades Córdoba, Caja 3, No. 11, Legajo 5, 1403a]. The Santa Catalina retablos are described thus: “Dos retablos de yeso, obra de talla moderna que estan en los colaterales de la yglesia” [AGHUC, Temporalidades Córdoba, Caja 3, No. 11, Legajo 5, 1187a]. The Alta Gracia pulpit is described merely as “un pulpito de madera labrada de talla, nuevamente pintado y dorado…” [AGHUC, Temporalidades Córdoba, Caja 3, No. 11, Legajo 5, 1403b]. The Hattinger and Wolf engraving is UPM 23.397-B-24. 105 Pereira, Historia, 104–9; Guzmán, Representaciones, 53–6, figs 19–25. 106 For the full text of the inventory with English translation see Bailey, “Calera de Tango,” 203–10. 107 ANC, Fondo Jesuitico 7 (Temporalidades, Colegio Máximo), 97a–97b]. For original text see Bailey, “Calera de Tango,” 204. 108 Pereira, Historia, 107. 109 SSA, Klauber 2 Kst 224, 170a. 110 It is an Orientalist pattern from his Quatrième livre de formes ornées de rocailles, cartels, figures, oyseaux, et dragons chinois (Paris, 1736) [ENSBA, Est Les 037, 15]. 111 SSA, Klauber 2 Kst 224, 170d. 112 ASN, Fondo Jesuitico 7, 97b–98a. For the original text see Bailey, “Calera de Tango,” 205. 113 The letter is written by Francisco Madariaga in Santiago and notes: “la Capilla de NS Padre se halla oy adornada con 12 laminas de una vara de alto cada una, marcos de cristal sobre lapis lazuli remedado, con cantoneras doradas, y su pintura de los Patriarchas de los Religiosos de admirable pincel. Se han avaluado aca en mil, y docientos pesos: no tienen semejantes, ni aun en Lima. Dilas yo de obsequio a mi S.to P.e con una estatua bella romana de S.n Estanislao p.a un lado de su altar: y en esto emplee los pessos, que con licencia lleve a Europa” [AGN IX 6-10-5, Compañía de Jesús 1761–62, n. f.]. 114 Fernando Guzmán and I have also identified what we believe to be the original Saint Ignatius sculpture. See Gauvin Alexander Bailey and Fernando Guzmán, “The Rococo Altarpiece of Saint Ignatius: Chile’s Grandest Colonial Retable Rediscovered,” The Burlington Magazine CLV, 1329 (December 2013): 818. 115 For the Blondel print see Bailey and Guzmán, “The Rococo Altarpiece of Saint Ignatius,” fig. 15. See also: A. le Pas de Sécheval, “Entre hommage et trahison: la réception et l’adaptation du baldaquin de Saint-Pierre,” in C. Grell et M. Stanic, eds, Le Bernin et l’Europe, actes du colloque de 1998 (Paris 2002): 378; See also Guilmard: Les maîtres ornemenistes, 525. 116 For the Habermann engraving see Bailey and Guzman, “The Rococo Altarpiece of Saint Ignatius,” fig. 9. See also: Guzmán, Representaciones, 53–6, figs 19–25. See also Luis Roa Urzúa, El arte en la epoca colonial de Chile, 30. 117 The work was carried out by chemical conservator Carolina Araya Monasterio in May 2013. She took seven samples from the panels, columns, and dado. We are extremely grateful for Dr. Araya for undertaking this work on our behalf. 118 ENSBA, Est Les 25, 49–51; Est Les GSA V. 3252–4. 119 Guzmán, Representaciones, 55. 120 Thomas O’Brien, “Utopia in the Midst of Oppression? A Reconsideration of Guaraní/Jesuit Communities in Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century Paraguay,” Contemporary Justice Review 7, 4 (December 2004): 396. 121 Darko Sustersic is the leading scholar on Brasanelli. For his latest study see: Bozidar D. Sustersic, Imagines Guaraní-jesuítias (Asuncion, 2010): 115–16. His biographical data is recorded in the triennial catalogue for 1692, his first year in Paraguay [ARSI, Paraq. 4 II, 431b]. In 1697, 1701, and 1703 the catalogues refer to Brasanelli as a statuarius et architectus (statue maker and architect); in 1710 as a “sculptor, statuarius, lignarium insignis” (sculptor, statue maker, eminent woodworker); in 1715 as a “statuarius et sculptor;” in 1720 again as a “statuarius et sculptor;” and again in 1724 as a “statuarius et sculptor” [ARSI, Paraq. 4 II, 431b, 462b, 493b; Paraq. 6, 18b, 45a, 67b, 87a, 119a]. On Bianchi in particular see: Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “Classicism in a Rococo World: Steadfastness and Compromise in Late Colonial South America,” in Matthew Reeve, ed., Architecture and the Classical Tradition (Turnhout, 2014): 101–13. 122 Ramón Gutiérrez, Evolución urbanística y arquitectónica del Paraguay, 1537–1911 (Resistencia, 1977): 280; Josefina Plá, El barroco hispano-Guaraní (Asunción, 2006): 199. 123 Plá, El barroco hispano-Guaraní, 200.

294 The Spiritual Rococo

124 Gutiérrez, Evolución, 281; Plá, El barroco hispano-Guaraní, 200. 125 Gutiérrez, Evolución, 287. 126 Schenone, “Tallistas portugueses,” 44; Furlong, Trasplante Cultural, 292–3. 127 Plá, Barroco Hispano-Guaraní, 198–9; Schenone, “Tallistas portugueses,” 44. 128 Plá, Barroco Hispano-Guaraní, 204; on my understanding of Reduction Guaraní style, see Bailey, Art on the Jesuit Missions, 164–9. 129 “La ejecución de estas guirnaldas, como la de otros detalles de simple relieve, parece ser de mano local” [Plá, Barroco Hispano-Guaraní, 204]. 130 GSA, G.4152. 131 The confessional is illustrated in Gutiérrez, Evolución urbanistica, 297. 132 Plá, Barroco Hispano-Guaraní, 209. 133 The claim about the name comes from a tourist guide from 1932 and as far as I can tell has never been proven. See: Plá, Barroco Hispano-Guaraní, 212; Gutiérrez, Evolución, 315; Juan Giuria, La arquitectura en el Paraguay (Buenos Aires, 1950): 61–2. 134 Carpenters working in the “Escuela del Paraguay” in Asunción in 1757 include Francisco González and Gregorio Morales, who made an altar table [AGN, IX 45-3-13, Jesuitas 1743–1767]. 135 Miguel Alberto Bartolomé, Chamanismo y religion entre los Ava-Katu-Ete (Asunción, 1991): 25, 46. 136 Bailey, Art on the Jesuit Missions, 178–82. 137 Gabriel Guarda, Iglesias de Chiloé (Santiago, 1984); Ignacio Modiano, Iglesias de Chiloé: riqueza iconográfica dentro de una acción racionalista (Santiago, 1988); Ignacio Modiano, Ignacio, Las experiencias arquitectónicas de los jesuitas en la Misión de Chiloé durante los siglos XVII y XVIII (Santiago, 1993); Hernán Montecinos Barrientos, Ignacio Salinas, and Patricio Basáez, eds, Las Iglesias Misionales de Chiloé. Documentos (Santiago, 1995); Bailey, “Cultural Convergence at the Ends of the Earth,” 211–39. 138 Pereira, Historia, 113–14; On Koller, see Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 234–5. 139 Pereira, Historia, 114. 140 Guarda, Iglesias de Chiloe, 59. 141 Several different kinds of saw (for example, serruchos grandes y medianos, serruchos de una mano, and serruchos de dos manos) were inventoried in the Achao carpentry shop in 1776 [ANC, Jesuitas 3, ff. 227b–228a]. 142 Meier and Müller, Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa, 383. 143 See Bailey, The Andean Hybrid Baroque. 144 The Portable Voltaire (Ben Ray Redman, trans. and ed., Harmondsworth, 1980): 264. See also Gauvin Alexander Bailey “‘Le style jésuite n’existe pas:’ Jesuit Corporate Culture and the Visual Arts,” in John W. O’Malley et al., The Jesuits: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts (Toronto, 1999): 40. 145 There has been a recent groundswell of literature on the Bourbon reforms in Latin America, focusing primarily on New Spain and Peru. Studies on New Spain include Melvin’s Building Colonial Cities of God, which looks at the impact of the reforms on mendicant orders in the cities of New Spain; Larkin’s The Very Nature of God, which uses wills and other texts to seek the essence of Catholicism in Bourbon New Spain; Pamela Voekel’s Alone Before God (Durham and London, 2002), which traces the development of “enlightened Catholicism” and its links with the rise of liberalism; and William Taylor, Magistrates of the Sacred (Stanford, 1996) and his work on dynamics of faith and ethnicity at the parish level. Studies of Bourbon reforms and insurrection in Peru include Sergio Serulnikov, Subverting Colonial Authority: Challenges to Spanish Rule in EighteenthCentury Southern Andes (Durham and London, 2003); Sinclair Thomson, We Alone Will Rule: Native Andean Politics in the Age of Insurgency (Madison and London, 2002); and Scarlett O’Phelan, La gran rebelión en los Andes (Lima, 1995). 146 Larkin, The Very Nature of God, 119. Larkin is writing about New Spain, but the same situation obtained for the Cono Sur. 147 Scarlett O’Phelan Godoy, Un siglo de rebeliones anticoloniales: Perú y Bolivia 1700–1783 (Cuzco, 1988), 75–221; O’Phelan, La gran rebelión, 34; Serulnikov, Subverting Local Authority, 95–106. 148 The literature on the Túpac Amaru II rebellion is extensive. The classic work is still Boleslao Levin, La rebelión de Túpac Amaru (Buenos Aires, 1957). In addition to the sources cited in note 138 see: Nicholas A. Robins, Genocide and Millenialism in Upper Peru: The Great Rebellion of 1780–82

“O Happy Vision!” 295

(Westport CT, 2002); Ward Stavig, The World of Túpac Amaru (Lincoln NE, 1999); Nicholas A. Robins, El mesianismo y la rebelión de Oruro en 1781 (La Paz, 1997); Oscar Cornblit, Power and Violence in the Colonial City: Oruro from the Mining Renaissance to the Rebellion of Tupac Amaru (Cambridge, 1995); Carlos Valcárcel, Túpac Amaru, precursor de la independencia (Lima, 1977); and Luis Durand Flórez, Independencia e integración en el plan político de Túpac Amaru (Lima, 1973). 149 Voekel, Alone Before God, 77–105. 150 Studies of colonial preaching focus on the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries such as Alexandre Coello de la Rosa’s El pregonero de Dios: Diego Martínez, SJ, misionero jesuita del Perú colonial (Valladolid, 2010). Ramón Mujica Pinilla has also drawn extensively upon sermons of this period in his many studies of colonial imagery and identity in Peru. See, for example, Ramón Mujica Pinilla, “El arte de los sermons,” In Ramón Mujica Pinilla, ed., El Barroco peruano (Lima, 2002): 222–314; Ramón Mujica Pinilla, “‘Reading without a Book’—on Sermons, Figurative Art, and Visual Culture in the Viceroyalty of Peru,” in Suzanne Stratton-Pruitt, ed., The Virgin, Saints, and Angels: South American Paintings 1600–1825 from the Thoma Collection (Stanford, 2006): 40–65. 151 The title is Catalogo de libros selectos y de las mejores ediciones sacado del que hizo el erudite benedictino D.n Juan de Mabillon de la Congregacion de San Mauro en Francia…para saber los que se pueden solicitar para componer una razonable biblioteca [FCUC, libro 12150]. 152 It mentions “un grande letrado de la Universidad de Paris” [AGN, Biblioteca Nacional 6224, 2a]. The quotation is as follows: “O vista dichosa! Que deliquios de amor no causaras en el corazon de un bienaventurado? Como le haras prorumpir en afectos de agradecimiento! O Dios nuestro y lo que te debo, pues solo por tu bondad me tragiste a estos palacios, donde todo es alegria, todo deleite, todo fragancia, todo anegarse en dulzuras, en consuelos, en gosos! O bien infinito, que he de amarte, y alabarte siempre, y gozar me, de que todos te amen, y te alaben!” [fols 5a–b] 153 “Me ha inspirado el pensamiento de presentaros en nuestro idioma estas Consideraciones, que el Abate Lamourete escribió para instrucción de la Madre Tereza de San Agustín Priora de las Carmelitas de San Dionisio. Este escrito esta embellecido con imágenes sublimes, metáforas atrevidas, pensamientos sólidos, máximas luminosas …” [ACC, Consideraciones sobre el espiritu y deberes de la vida religiosa. Traducidas del Francés por el D.or Don Francisco Cándido Gutiérrez Presbitero de la S[an]ta Ig[lesi]a Catedral de Córdoba Juez Hacedor de Diezmos]. On Gutiérrez, see: Valentina Ayrolo, Funcionarios de dios y de la república: clero y política en la experiencia de las autonomías provinciales (Buenos Aires, 2007): 204–5.

Epilogue: “Superfluous Stucco and Laughable Decoration”: Rococo, Religion, and the Global Enlightenment

The 1770s were not the best decade for Rococo church décor. In a series of proclamations from Bavaria to Alto Peru civic rulers and clergymen lashed out against what they saw as the corrupting influence of excessive ornamentation in the name of plainness and Classicism. A year after he curtailed the calendar of sacred holidays the reformist Elector Max III Joseph—grandson of Rococo devotee Max II Emanuel—proclaimed on October 4, 1770 that “all superfluous stucco and other occasionally irregular and laughable decoration be cut away, to bring to their altars and pictures a noble Simplicity appropriate for devotion to saintliness.”1 Two years later Bishop Gregorio Campos of La Paz, in present-day Bolivia, ordered that the Franciscans in his diocese put an immediate end to decorating churches “with birds, animals … angels dressed as women, mirrors, cornucopias, ribbons, lacework, etc., which have turned churches into dance halls.”2 The same year Spanish-born Archbishop of Mexico Alonso Núñez de Haro railed from the pulpit against “the magnificence of the temples, the prodigious multitude of gold, silver, pearls, and precious stones that you have offered and consecrated to the worship of the Lord … in the midst of so many marvels, your spirit, distracted, flees; your imagination, inconstant, flies; and you entertain yourself with a thousand frivolous, and perhaps criminal, objects.”3 The latter two proclamations were made in the wake of a series of ecclesiastical councils ordered by King Charles III in Mexico City (1771), Lima (1772), Charcas (now Sucre, Bolivia, 1774–1778), and Bogota (1774) in an attempt to reaffirm the power of the Crown and modernize the church in his American colonies.4 In 1777 the Spanish King went even further by ruling that all plans for religious structures throughout his empire must be approved by the arch-Classicist Academia de San Fernando in Madrid (founded 1751): he demanded that bishops and superiors of religious orders stop commissioning retablos with “ridiculous” and “incorrigible” ornamentation in favor of “others arranged according to architectonic discipline and good taste,” and forbade the excessive use of gilding, calling for the use of marble, stone, or

298 The Spiritual Rococo

stucco rather than the traditional wood.5 A similar design monopoly had been imposed more decisively on post-earthquake Lisbon by the Marquis de Pombal when the destruction of its richly appointed churches during the 1755 temblor and tsunami could be interpreted as divine retribution for poor taste and military architects rebuilt the city in a style so severe it was even criticized by Neoclassicists, although the churches were in fact executed in a strippeddown eclectic blend of Mannerist and Roman Baroque models.6 The 1770s was also the decade in which Jacques-François Blondel—more concerned, as were most French critics, with taste than with religion—remarked that he was no longer living in the century of rocailles (see Introduction), and when the façade of Saint-Sulpice—the building that could have been the grandest monument to religious Rococo in Paris had Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier’s scheme been adopted (Fig. 2.33, Plate 3)—was completed by Oudot de Maclaurin and Jean-François Chalgrin in an academic Classicism even more lifeless than that of Meissonnier’s rival Nicolas Servandoni who had originally won the commission. Yet as Mark Twain might have remarked the report of the death of the Rococo was an exaggeration. Full-blown Rococo church décor flourished into the 1780s in the rural parishes of Central Europe at the hands of artists such as Andreas Moosbrugger (1722–1787) in the Bregenzerwald, author of a rare folio of drawings of stucco patterns for church and domestic interiors in a style Alistair Laing praises for the originality of their “bristling rocaille and delicate rose-coloured and apple-green washes”; and the Friesenhofen sculptor Konrad Hegenauer (1734–1807), who was still adorning the churches of the Allgäu with extravagantly elastic Rococo altars and pulpits in a style aptly dubbed “wild Rococo” by Gebhard Spahr (Fig. E.1).7 Similarly, Spanish

E.1 Konrad Hegenauer, pulpit, St. Petrus und Paulus, Friesenhofen, Allgäu, Bavaria, ca. 1780. Photo: Author

Epilogue 299

American retablo makers blithely ignored Charles’s decree and Brazilian ceiling painters like Antonio dos Santos (fl. first half of the nineteenth century) were still surrounding their saints with energetic false stucco rocailles in candy colors into the late 1820s—a time when, as we have seen, the people of Rio de Janeiro still found the French goût moderne quite “modern” enough (Fig. E.2).8 As it happened less than a decade separates these works from the first (of many) Rococo revivals, under King Louis-Philippe (reigned 1830– 1848) in France and contemporaneously in England.9 It would be easy to dismiss these late manifestations of Rococo—as many have—as a product of peasants and uncultured colonials. Yet as we have seen the level of intellectual engagement in the German countryside and in the salons of Minas Gerais was far from uncultured and Enlightenment-minded patrons directly supported some of the greatest—and latest—monuments of the international Rococo: such was the church of São Francisco in Ouro Preto (Figs 4.22–24, 4.28, 4.29, Plate 11), financed in part by poet Cláudio Manuel da Costa who may even have contributed to its iconographical program. Beyond European cities, where the Academies reigned supreme and Rococo was tainted by its perceived association with a degenerate ruling class, artists and patrons even began exploring the style’s affinities with Neoclassicism, reconciling Greco-Roman models with a more restrained Rococo into the

E.2 Antonio dos Santos, The Virgin of Carmel Appearing to St. Simon Stock, ceiling painting, Third Order Carmelite Church, Mogi das Cruzes, Brazil, ca. 1814. Photo: Author

300 The Spiritual Rococo

E.3 Crossing and apse, St. Leonard, Brunnen, Switzerland, with ceiling painting of the Last Supper by Joseph Ignaz Weiss and stucco work by Peter Anton Moosbrugger, 1788. Photo: Author

nineteenth century. In 1788 Stukkator Peter Anton Moosbrugger (1732–1806) recognized the kinship between Rococo and goût à la grecque in a combination of intertwining rocailles in mint green and putty-colored Grecian floral sprays that he sprinkled over the bare white ceiling of St. Leonhard in Brunnen on Lake Lucerne (Fig. E.3).10 The next year Franz Joseph Hermann (1739–1806), court painter to the Prince Bishop of Kempten, painted a ceiling fresco of the Victory of Christianity in the church of SS George and Florian in Reicholzried (Allgäu), cast in dizzying perspective worthy of Wenzel Lorenz Reiner and with a prominent false stucco cartouche of rocailles and trelliswork—yet enclosed in an oval frame and looping garlands that look as if they had come straight off a Wedgwood vase.11 In South America Isidro Lorea’s pupil Juan Antonio Hernández developed a hybrid Rococo/Neoclassical style for the suite of retablos he executed for the Cathedral and San Ignacio in Buenos Aires, which combined trophées by René-Jacques Le Charpentier and Jean-Charles Delafosse with delicate rocailles and fused classical columns and entablatures with curvilinear lines and broken pediments.12 Likewise the anonymous creator of the pair of milk-white side altars at Santa Ana in Santiago (ca. 1800) stripped a standard Augsburg altarpiece model down to its bare essentials yet retained its Gloria and crown of volutes and adorned the outer edges with a garland of understated rocailles and C-scrolls (Figs. 5.31, E.4). Earlier in this book I suggested that instead of seeing Rococo as simply being ousted by revolution—literally in the case of France, or through

Epilogue 301

E.4 Left side altar, vestibule, Santa Ana, Santiago, Chile, ca. 1800. Photo: Author

revolutionary modes of thinking elsewhere—we should recognize it as part of that revolution. As we have seen throughout these chapters Rococo’s celebration of the natural world and themes of love, refuge, individualism, and happiness give it significant affinities with Enlightenment concerns, and while its championing of freedom from authority may have been invented

302 The Spiritual Rococo

by an “aristocracy in nostalgic retreat” it was no less applicable to pilgrims in Bavaria or freedom fighters in South America. Furthermore, through its interaction with—and at times gentle parodies of—earlier artistic styles, whether Gothic, Mannerist, or Baroque, it was also acutely conscious of its place in the artistic timeline, a historical self-awareness that was a foundation of Enlightenment thought.13 Michael Levey (or Denis Diderot) might counter by saying that Truth, a central concern of Enlightenment philosophy, is “patently lacking in Rococo art.”14 Yet I believe that Rococo approaches the truth in its own way, back to front, by challenging illusion and forcing us to find our own reality—or to acknowledge the futility of that pursuit. It compels us to look into the space between frame and framed, reality and artifice, and stasis and metamorphosis. This liminal place and décor’s role as a mediation between poles is critical to Rococo’s essence as we have seen in the cartouches of Germanic churches (Fig. 3.28) or the printed fantasies of Jacques Lajoüe (Fig. 2.14) or Jean Mondon (Fig. 2.16). In décor Rococo liberates our minds by revealing the falseness of Baroque’s perspectival tricks and overturning the certainties of its world, and it allows the imagination freer rein than the methodical, by-the-book academism of Neoclassicism. In church décor this break with tradition fitted perfectly with changes in religious practices and spirituality, ones that favored personal, interior interrogations of faith and one-on-one interactions with the Divine, as we have seen in Boucher’s sacred paintings, Bavarian pilgrimage churches, and the switch from narrative to symbolic representation in Spanish American retablo design. Rococo did not share Neoclassicism’s moralism, earnestness, or obsession with the masculine and heroic, nor did it stray far into the sentimental. Yet for these very reasons Rococo is arguably more modern, certainly when seen from an early twenty-first century standpoint. Rococo décor’s flexibility also appealed in a practical way to artists who were simply tired of following the rules. Since its motifs were nebulous and less tied to specific media or purposes people were encouraged to transform them—dissecting them, flipping them over as mirror images, stretching them out of shape, and making pastiches of different models—and to amalgamate them with site-specific imagery, whether related to a church’s dedication or to local flora and fauna. Rococo’s capacity for hybridization, a faculty first noted by Philippe Minguet, is particularly conspicuous among aboriginal peoples in the Americas. Already well before the arrival of the Rococo nations such as the Aymara, Guaraní, and Chiquitos had been incorporating into church décor references to their surroundings and—as I argue in a recent book about the church architecture of Southern Peru—symbols and styles relating to indigenous religious beliefs.15 Yet Rococo’s amorphousness may have offered a more seamless transformation into indigenous forms—in this case specifically local flora—as we have seen in Yaguarón or Achao, where rocailles and C-scrolls become tropical vines and leaves without losing their essential asymmetry or playfulness. Native American artists may not have recognized Rococo as a style per se—it was merely the latest importation imposed upon

Epilogue 303

them by their Spanish rulers—but its transformability and emphasis on natural imagery might have served them better than earlier alternatives. Rococo spirituality shared the essential values of Rococo décor and followed a similar trajectory. In France the literature of the Spiritual Rococo had its heyday in the 1730s to 1750s but then dwindled, the more rationally minded Christianity of Reason lasting longer, in its most conciliatory form into the 1780s. Jean Ehrard ties its demise to the rise of secularism after 1750, yet Louis-Antoine Caraccioli was at his most active in the 1760s and the works of writers such as Nicolas-Sylvestre Bergier, the Maître de Claville, Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint Dinouart, François de Salignac de la Mothe Fénelon, Antoine-Adrien Lamourette, Louis-Jean Lévesque de Pouilly, and Charles Frey de Neuville were republished in multiple languages well into the nineteenth century.16 Didier Masseau attributes the decline to a lack of talent, a drop in quality in religious apologetics in the last 30 years of the ancien régime, which he calls an “extreme vulgarization.”17 But his statement sounds to me like the kind of comments made by old-school church historians like Jules Candel, who found the vernacular styles of Jean-Baptiste Massillon, Charles-Joseph Perrin, and Henri Griffet so distasteful and disdained the “flowery” style of the Grand Siècle Jesuits. Robert Mauzi suggests that the intellectual world had simply moved away from the microcosmic salon, with its “pleasure of sweetly frivolous company, fragile and outmoded elegances,” toward a utopian discussion of the world in its macrocosmic amplitude—a concept he calls “le grand Tout.”18 Certainly the protracted decline of the salon and polite conversation made the genre less pertinent in France. Benedetta Craveri shows how salon culture disintegrated from one of mutual respect into a forum for slander and jealousy beginning in the 1770s: “innocent good cheer and delicate raillerie had made way for backbiting and spite … [g]one was the noble salon conversation, replaced by a trivial chronicle of gossip, sordid details, insinuations, and true and invented stories that might be funny or defamatory.”19 But as with Rococo décor, the literature of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason long outlasted its supposed demise outside France where it attempted the kind of reconciliation with Enlightenment and revolutionary values that lost Adrien Lamourette his head. We have already seen this phenomenon in Central Europe with the mediatory literature of the Catholic Enlightenment, particularly among reformist Benedictine scholars. In Brazil the Benedictines were also in the forefront of this reconciliation of sacred and profane schools of thought. A major preaching order in the colony they continued to prepare their sermons with eighteenth-century French spiritual literature into the mid-nineteenth century: the library of the Benedictines in Sao Paulo, for example, has many late editions of works such as Caraccioli’s Les caractères de l’amitié (1813) and the spiritual works of Fénelon (1835).20 Similarly, in republican Santiago the revolutionary jurist and politician Don Juan Egaña (1769–1836), co-author of the Chilean constitution, owned copies of the works of Fénelon and Griffet, and as we have seen in

304 The Spiritual Rococo

Chapter 5 Don Francisco Cándido Gutiérrez was enthusiastically quoting Lamourette in his sermons during his years as canon of Córdoba Cathedral between 1815 and 1827.21 The literature of the Spiritual Rococo also shares with Rococo décor its ability to turn Baroque institutionalism and certitude on its head, inviting us to spiritualize our world, challenge dogma, and observe God’s gifts in the everyday, with happiness an attainable goal here and now and not just after a life of self-denial and mortification. Although it never stopped being Catholic this spiritual exploration was provoked by the same spirit of inquiry that drove the Deists since it is inherently quizzical and what is at stake is our personal understanding of the Divine and our acceptance or rejection of the tenets of the official church.22 The literature of the Christianity of Reason legitimized empiricism and rational thought as a Christian practice. Rococo spirituality may not have advocated the secular moralism of Enlightenment philosophers—most famously the “categorical imperative” of Immanuel Kant, which spoke of duty toward others as an end in itself or Diderot’s maxim that “[e]verything … will be good, great, elevated and sublime, if it accords with the general and common interest.”23 But the decorum of honnêteté advocated by the likes of Mme Aubert and Charles-Joseph Trublet, and the importance they placed on free, equitable, and responsible society is much the same thing in another guise. I have argued throughout this book that Rococo style and spirituality were accepted with such enthusiasm because they resonated with the often quite different social and religious concerns of the regions where they prospered. But another factor was surely their shared French origin. In his gleefully chauvinistic L’Europe Française (1774) Louis-Antoine Caraccioli surveys the ways in which the rest of Europe emulated the French, considering not only conversation, philosophy, fashion, and café culture but topics more pertinent to our study such as art and preaching. As an example of how the French eighteenth century made an impact on parts of the continent he considered more backward he cited Folio volante sobre la vida del famoso Fray Gerundio de Campazas (1758) by Spanish writer José Francisco de Isla de la Torre y Rojo (1703–1781). A novel recounting the career of the oafish sermonizer Fray Gerundio (“Brother Gerund”) de Campazas, the book is a thinly veiled parody of the Spanish Baroque style of preaching—a style characterized, in Caraccioli’s words by “overblown expressions” (expressions gigantesques) and “extravagant thoughts” (pensées extravagantes).24 Caraccioli attributes the book’s success in France—in Spain it was condemned by the Inquisition—to the French attitude “that the more one respects religion, the more one must work to topple false legends and bad Sermons which disfigure it,” which is to say that good taste mattered almost as much as content.25 In a similar vein Caraccioli wrote proudly about the role French engravings played in the dissemination of French style in less fashionable parts of Europe such as Denmark, Saxony, and Sweden, noting the utility of these “truly seductive” models for people of many nations who copy them: “Europe has applauded

Epilogue 305

[French art] through becoming an admirer of the prints which one executes daily in Paris, and procures them with an incredible avidity … so true it is that the Arts are magic when they reach their perfection.”26 Patriotism aside, Caraccioli was correct that the popularity of Rococo spirituality and style outside France had much to do with Paris being considered by many to be the cultural capital of Europe (indeed the world) and with the prolificacy of the French printing industry. On both sides of the Atlantic Rococo spiritual literature in particular would have been understood as French, especially since many of the books in libraries from Prague to Belém were in the original language and references to them in sermons, as we have seen in Lisbon, Buenos Aires, and Córdoba, explicitly state their place of origin. But what of the décor? Central Europeans recognized Rococo court culture as being French—in fact its eighteenth-century critics attacked it for that very reason—as did the Augsburg printmakers who published pirated editions of the cahiers of the Rue Saint-Jacques, but I doubt that Germanic people thought that about their indigenous stucco traditions, which after all followed a very different taste.27 The Portuguese also acknowledged the French origins of court culture and of spiritual literature and philosophy, but no eighteenth-century citizen of Braga or Porto would consider the bulky, gilded talha of their churches to be French—indeed as we have seen the influence came primarily from Germany. Spanish South America also would have had an ambiguous understanding of Rococo: while Isidro Lorea delighted in the chinoiseries of Peyrotte and based his grandest retablo on a work by Meissonnier, the Germanic artists of Chile would have seen it as a German style, a stamp of national identity for the homesick Jesuits who propagated it throughout the land. Brazil was different: they were keenly aware of the origins of the “irregular ornament in the finest French taste,” as the councilor of Mariana called it in the late eighteenth century (see Chapter 4). The importance of French literature and manners to the intellectual movements there and the laity-inspired taste for more secular church décor in the French style suggest that they consciously emulated the fashions of Paris to separate themselves from their Portuguese overlords. As early as 1748 René Courte de la Blanchardière (ca. 1712–1794), a French visitor to Rio de Janeiro, noted that although women are only seen publicly in church that “people of means dress well in the French fashion”—demonstrating at once the interest in French secular culture and its intimate relationship with sacred interiors.28 This Francophile ideal of progress may well also have inspired creators of utopian missionary communities to use Rococo instead of Baroque—even if those utopian goals would have been lost on the Native Americans who would rather have been left alone in the first place. Another question is whether the literature of the Spiritual Rococo and Christianity of Reason actually influenced the choice of Rococo church décor. Can we argue that the treatises of Trublet or the sermons of Neuville directly inspired Bavarians or Brazilians to adorn their church interiors with rocailles, cartouches, and bright colors in the same way that the treatises on sacred

306 The Spiritual Rococo

art that appeared during and after the Council of Trent (1545–1563)—by the likes of Giovanni Andrea Gilio da Fabriano (1564), Carlo Borromeo (1577), Gabriele Paleotti (1582), and Jan Molanus (1619)—are often thought to have encouraged late Renaissance artists to create a simpler, more legible, and emotive style appropriate for the new religious climate of the time? The first problem with that hypothesis is that none of the Rococo treatises dealt at any great length with the visual arts—even works such as Lévesque de Pouilly’s Théorie des sentiments agréables (1747), which did remark upon painting, did so only fleetingly, while others only refer to art metaphorically, as we have seen with Teodoro de Almeida. Certainly none of them could have served as a practical manual for a painter or decorator. More significantly, even the treatises of the sixteenth-century Catholic Reformation reflected rather than impacted trends in sacred art and their instructions were remarkably vague: they wrote of art’s didactic function, its function as an aide-memoire, as an example for appropriate behavior, and as visual proof of saints’ miracles, and they called for greater representational clarity, correctness in representing narratives and symbolism, and emotiveness as a stimulus to piety.29 Written for the most part by clergymen for clergymen they were remarkably unspecific about artistic matters, few artists would have read them, and they exemplified trends in painting that were already being tested out by artists such as Sebastiano del Piombo (ca. 1485–1547) or Annibale Carracci (1560–1609). However, just because the one did not directly influence the other does not mean that artists did not share many of the same concerns as the treatise writers. The relationship between artists and treatise writers was a case of symbiosis: artists throughout the Catholic world cut back on complexity and ornament and took steps toward the very goals expressed by the clerics. They were not forced to bring a new piety to their art, but operated instead on what I have called a “grass-roots level,” on their own initiative.30 A similar situation obtained in the eighteenth century: the religious and social crises of that era were at least as dire as those posed by the Reformation, but as with the sixteenth century we cannot claim a direct causal relationship between treatise writers and artists. Most artists and decorators would not necessarily have read works like those of the Maître de Claville or Trublet— although given their widespread popularity they may have done, and it is even more probable that their patrons did. More crucially, Rococo is a much less iconographic and narrative style than any that came before it, and its essentially abstract character defies attempts to make specific associations with textual sources, despite tantalizing hints such as Augustin Fastl’s equation of the “sparkle” of gilded décor with human virtue (see Chapter 3). The rapport between the Spiritual Rococo and Rococo décor should be seen instead as parallel responses to common challenges and aspirations resulting in profound, often striking commonalities between text, image, and ornament. In this book we have traced Rococo’s expansion across the globe, the result of essential affinities which a wide range of peoples and cultures felt for the style. However Rococo has also travelled well through time. In its heyday

Epilogue 307

Rococo succeeded primarily because no other style in the history of Western art had been so explicitly engineered to communicate comfort, leisure, and happiness at a time when happiness was seen by many as humankind’s supreme goal—whether achieved through faith in God or otherwise. These same qualities—together with Rococo’s association with luxury, historicism, rebelliousness, and erotica—have resonated with succeeding generations long after Enlightenment champions like Blondel were confident that they had witnessed the end of the “century of rocailles.” Some designers and artists have evoked Rococo simply as a sign of prestige while for others it is a means for exploring more intellectual matters such as the intersection between high and low art or art’s ability to challenge the mainstream or critique contemporary society; many are fascinated by its inherent restlessness, selfawareness, and capacity for parody, while others look at the ways in which its supposed “femininity” sheds light on the intricacies of gender identity and sexuality. Rococo’s afterlife is the subject of a groundswell of recent scholarship, which is revealing the multiple ways in which the style has remained relevant to eras as varied as the French Second Empire (1852–1870) and our own. As early as 1960 Wylie Sypher called Rococo a “recurrent” style, the last “legitimate” style before the revivalism and eclecticism of the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and claimed that its first recurrence, Art Nouveau, brought purity back to Western Art: Rococo is … singularly important because it is the last coherent style before the latter eighteenth century, and the nineteenth, lost a style and had, instead, only stylizations. In fact the return to a style at the close of the nineteenth century came in part through the neo-Rococo methods of Art Nouveau. This is why we must deal with rococo as a modern style.31

As we have already seen, this recognition of Rococo’s modernity was later shared by Dorothea Nyberg and Karsten Harries, who appreciated its ability to challenge orthodoxy and its fundamentally abstract nature. More recently Ellen Lupton has come to a similar conclusion after speaking with contemporary designers such as American ceramicist Adrian Saxe (b. 1943), who goes so far as to say that Modernism would not have happened without the Rococo, and like Sypher she sees Rococo as a style that reincarnates itself: Like modernism, the idea of rococo lives on multiple planes. Rococo is a period style, invented in early eighteenth-century France, that has been explicitly referenced and revived by designers, decorators, and manufacturers again and again since the birth and decline of the original movement. Rococo is also an outlook on life and form that resurfaces more abstractly in the work of many designers ….32

The second Rococo revival took place in Second Empire France, when the court and nobility redecorated their apartments in emulation of the hôtels particuliers of eighteenth-century Paris. Here the revival was pure nostalgia, a celebration of the trappings of late ancien-régime France. In the early 1850s the

308 The Spiritual Rococo

décor of Empress Eugenie’s Tuileries bedroom was updated in a combination of Rococo and Neoclassicism and in 1862 the duc and duchesse de Trévise fitted out their neo-Louis XIII-style chateau at Sceaux with an opulent Salon d’Honneur inspired by the interior of the Hôtel de Soubise (compare Figs. E.5, 2.21, Plate 1).33 But at the same time Eduard Manet (1832–1883), an artist at the very origins of Modernism, was recognizing affinities with Rococo figural painting, specifically the fêtes galantes of Watteau, which he and many of his contemporaries saw as “essentially realistic,” in the words of Michael Fried.34 In parts of the world in which religious Rococo had thrived church decorators returned to the style to create a visual language of joy and comfort redolent of an idealized past: Münster architect Wilhelm Rincklake (1851–1927) executed a neo-Rococo choir in the church of St. Mauritz in Dyckburg (Westfalia) in 1894–1895, complete with a spindly, frosty-white altarpiece as fanciful as anything by Balthasar Sigmund Setlezki; while Germanophile Sao Paulo lawyer Clemente Falcão de Souza Filho (1837–1887) ordered a sumptuous neo-Rococo altarpiece from Bavaria as the high altar of the church of São Francisco in that city after the original was destroyed in a fire in 1880—the work came complete with leaping angels in the style of Ignaz Günther and was more Germanic than any of its colonial predecessors (Fig. E.6).35 In Buenos Aires architect Felipe Senillosa (1783–1858) and an early twentieth-century engineer by the name of Gramonda gave the façade of the Church of San Ignacio two increasingly decorative face-lifts in the 1850s and 1927, adding veneers of faux French Rococo details and demonstrating that for increasingly Francophile Buenos Aires the real Rococo façade was simply not Rococo enough (Fig. 5.11).36 Rococo was so associated with Independence

E.5 Salon d’honneur, Domaine de Sceaux, 1862. Photo: Author

Epilogue 309

E.6 German workshop, High Altar, São Francisco (detail), Sao Paulo, Brazil, after 1880. Photo: Author

in Rio de Janeiro that when the Cathedral was extended to celebrate the birth of the Republic of Brazil in 1889–1892 the new side chapels were designed by Thomas Driendl (1849–1916) to harmonize with the rest of the church, in a style that united traditional Rio Rococo motifs such as the tarja with bolder and more densely packed genre pittoresque ornament that recalls Meissonnier’s Bieliński Cabinet (Fig. 2.13, 4.16).37 Rococo lives on in the later twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, although in our increasingly secular world spirituality has largely been left out of the equation. Two major Rococo design revivals have kept the style “modern.” Interior decorators such as Richard Plumer, Merle Smith, and John Greer brought the Louis XV aesthetic to the fashionable enclave of Palm Beach, Florida, in the 1950s and 1960s, with walls of egg-yolk yellow, soft pink, and mint green and furnishings of blond wood and gilding after eighteenth-century models, a style reflecting the languor of beach culture and cocktail parties and which quickly found its way to the suburbs.38 By contrast, design movements in the later 1960s and 1970s—the ones devised by the rebellious children of those cocktail party hosts—adopted Rococo’s curving line and showiness “as a language of ephemerality and revolt,” as with the psychedelic graphic art movement of the 1960s, which borrowed from Rococo and its descendent Art Nouveau, or sinuous early furniture designs by architect Frank Gehry (b. 1929) made out of cardboard to protest the use of plastic during the OPEC oil crisis of the 1970s.39 In the popular imagination Rococo became synonymous with kitsch and hedonism, most notoriously through its association with performers such as Liberace (1919–1987)—his

310 The Spiritual Rococo

Las Vegas mansion bristled with gilded wall sconces and commodes and many of his pianos were encrusted with mirrors and gilded rocailles—or the flamboyantly attired Glam Rock movement of the 1970s, one subcategory of which was even called “Rococo Rock.”40 Rebecca Arnold has recently investigated what she calls the “New Rococo,” a graceful, optimistic feminine style echoing eighteenth-century dress, salon settings, and the flower-strewn pastorales of Fragonard, which probes the intersections between fashion, femininity, and the idea of masquerade.41 It arose in the 2000s and 2010s in the work of film maker Sofia Coppola (b. 1971)—her Marie Antoinette (2006) did more to rejuvenate Rococo’s image and its apparel than any other event in this century so far—and in the fashion photography of Corinne Day (1962–2010), and the haute couture of designer Stella McCartney (b. 1971). Looking at a decidedly less bucolic aspect of contemporary society, historian Sabine Melchior-Bonnet finds an connection between the short attention-span embodied in Rococo papillotage—we have already seen it parodied and celebrated by Caraccioli in his Livre des quatre couleurs (see Chapter 2)—and the behavior of the frenetic consumer of the early twenty-first century, a “homo frivolus” to use her term, whose every waking hour is occupied with poking and looking at electronic devices to satisfy an insatiable need for images, amusement, consumption, and distraction, activities that demand new verbs such as “papillonner, flirter, surfer, zapper.”42 Neo-pop artist Jeff Koons (b. 1955)—an artist his critics would consider to be an ideal homo frivolus—has made some of the most high profile explorations of Rococo’s capacity to shed light on aspects of contemporary society, whether its artistic commodification or libertinism, or the increasing disagreement over what is considered high and popular art (as Alison Unruh has recently noted, Andy Warhol was already combining Rococo values and pop art in the decade when Koons was born).43 These issues have had considerable bearing on his own reputation as high-profile sales of his mass-produced sculptures of toys, pornographic images, and pop stars have made him one of the wealthiest and most controversial artists in the world. In fact there is a striking parallel between the way his work has been described and the criticism of François Boucher, the eighteenth century art world’s black sheep with his coquettes with rosy buttocks, libertine satyrs, and cosmetic colors (see Chapters 1, 2). In a 1991 review in the New York Times of Koon’s paintings featuring the artist in flagrante with his then wife Ilona Staller (former porn star Cicciolina) Michael Kimmelman remarked “artificial and cheap in their settings and emotions, they are not fundamentally different from what one might see in Hustler magazine, translated almost to the scale of a movie screen.”44 Diderot would most certainly have concurred. It is therefore a surprise that it is Koons who has most effectively explored Rococo’s potential as a spiritual style. His Mirror: Christ and the Lamb (1998), a tangle of Habermann-esque rocailles and garlands that forms the outline of the figures of Christ and the lamb from Leonardo’s Madonna and Child with Saint Anne (1510–1512)—he also made a Rococo mirror called Wishing Well as a

Epilogue 311

E.7 Jeff Koons, Mirror: Christ and the Lamb, 1988. Groninger Museum, Groningen

pendant for the same Banality series of sculptures—considers the metaphysical potential of the mirror as something that reflects and acknowledges the viewer but also encourages close looking to discover, puzzle-like, the sacred image from within the rocailles (Fig. E.7). In fact the sculpture plays a strikingly similar kind of game as the cartouche mirrors which Franz Xaver Schmuzer

312 The Spiritual Rococo

placed in the nave pendentives at Steingaden over 250 years earlier (Fig. 3.31, Plate 8). Koons sees this work as a comment upon the way the Church uses “the gold and the Rococo” to “soothe the masses for the moment; to make them feel economically secure; to let something else—a spiritual experience, a manipulation—come into their lives.”45 Although his remarks suggest that he is both critical and positive about Rococo’s power Koons’ interest in the way it draws upon visual richness to create a sense of happiness and a place for meditation, and his recognition of the way it can transcend the division between frame and framed and décor and art demonstrates a keen understanding of the spiritual dimensions of the style. In his commentary on this sculpture Robert Rosenblum acknowledged the power of the ambiguities presented by a work which “flouts familiar categories, being at once a relief sculpture and a framed picture of the room it’s in or of the spectator who confronts it. In other words, it’s just a mirror, so why isn’t it off with the decorative arts, instead of being mixed up with painting and sculpture?”46 Like a print by Lajoüe or a church interior in Bavaria, where the artist used to live, Koons’ work refuses to make sense, and in doing so it challenges our preconceptions about art and décor, and secular and sacred, frustrating our attempts to make sense of it and confronting us with the limits of our understanding, yet never abandoning its sense of play.

Notes 1

Christiane Hertel, Pygmalion in Bavaria: the Sculptor Ignaz Günther and Eighteenth-Century Aesthetic Art Theory (University Park, 2011): 70; Friedrich Wolf, François de Cuvilliés (1695–1768): der Architekt und Dekorschöpfer (Munich, 1967): 106; Wolfgang Braunfels, François Cuvilliés: Der Baumeister der Galanten Architektur des Rokoko (Munich, 1986): 169; Johannes Goldner and Lisa and Wilfried Bahnmüller, Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule (Freilassing, 1992): 48; Peter Volk et al., Rokokoplastik in Altbayern, Bayrisch-Schwaben und im Allgäu (Munich, 1981): 44.

2

José de Mesa and Teresa Gisbert, Escultura virreinal en Bolivia (La Paz, 1972), 209; Gauvin Alexander Bailey, The Andean Hybrid Baroque: Convergent Cultures in the Churches of Colonial Peru (Notre Dame, 2010): 304.

3

Brian Larkin, The Very Nature of God: Baroque Catholicism and Religious Reform in Bourbon Mexico City (Albuquerque, 2010): 138–9.

4

Ondina E. González and Justo L. González, Christianity in Latin America: A History (Cambridge, 2008): 112.

5

Paraphrased in Rodgríguez G. de Ceballos, El siglo XVIII: entre tradición y academia (Madrid, 1992): 126. See also George Kubler and Martín Soría, Art and Architecture in Spain and Portugal and their American Dominions 1500–1800 (Baltimore, 1959): 54.

6

Paulo Varela Gomes, A Cultura Arquitectônica e Artística em Portugal no século XVIII (Lisbon, 1988): 14; José Augusto França, Lisboa Pombalina e o Iluminismo (Lisbon, 1983): 304; José Augusto França, “Lisbon the Enlightened City of the Marques de Pombal,” in Jay Levenson, The Age of the Baroque in Portugal (Washington, 1993): 133–7; Maria Helena Barreiros, “Urban Landscapes: Houses, Streets and Squares of 18th Century Lisbon,” in Riitta Laitinen and Thomas V. Cohen eds., Cultural History of Early Modern European Streets (Leiden, 2009): 36.

7

On Hagenauer see Gebhard Spahr, Oberschwäbische Barockstrasse III (Weingarten, 1980): 52–4; Manfred Thierer, Konrad Hegenauer: Rokokobildhauer in Oberschwaben (Leutkirch, 1986); on Moosbrugger see Alastair Laing, “German Drawings.” In Drawings for Architecture, Design and Ornament: The James A. De Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor (Aylesbury, 2006) II, 632–44.

Epilogue 313

8

On Antonio dos Santos and this commission in particular see: Danielle Manoel dos Santos Pereira, “Atribuição confirmada: a pintura do forro da Capela-Mor dos Terceiros do Carmo em Mogi das Cruzes (SP),” in VIII Encontro de História da Arte (Campinas, 2012): 123–33. See also: Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, O rococó religioso no Brasil e seus antecedentes europeus (São Paulo, 2003): 279–82; and Percival Tirapeli, Igrejas Paulistas: Barroco e Rococó (Sao Paulo, 2003): 254–5.

9

Gail S. Davidson, “Emulation and Subversion: Nineteenth-Century Rococo Revivals in the Graphic Arts,” in Sarah D. Coffin et al., eds, Rococo: the Continuing Curve (New York, 2008): 169.

10

Jürg Thurnheer, Ingenbohl-Brunnen: Kirchen und Kapellen (Passau, 1999): 6–9.

11

Rudolf Geiss, Katholische Pfarrkirche St. Georg und Florian Reicholzried (Munich and Zurich, 1989): 10–12.

12

On Hernández, who possibly came from Valladolid, see Gauvin Alexander Bailey, “French Rococo Prints and Eighteenth-Century Altarpieces in Buenos Aires,” The Burlington Magazine 1316, CLIV (November, 2012): 781–2.

13

For a good discussion of Enlightenment self-awareness see Anthony Pagden, The Enlightenment and Why it Still Matters (New York, 2013): 13–15.

14

Michael Levey, Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth Century Painting (London, 1966): 165. On Diderot’s famous quote about Boucher that “This man has everything, except truth,” see Thomas M Kavanagh, “Painting for the Senses: Boucher and Epicurean Stoicism,” in Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, eds., Rethinking Boucher (Los Angeles, 2006): 253, 267 n 1; Pagden, The Enlightenment, 218.

15

Philippe Minguet, Esthétique du rococo (Paris, 1966): 257; Bailey, Andean Hybrid Baroque, 303–38.

16

Jean Ehrard, Littérature française: le XVIIIe siècle I, 1720–1750 (Paris, 1974): 44–5. See also Martine Jacques, “L.-A. Caraccioli et son oeuvre: la mesure d’une avancée de la pensée chrétienne vers les lumières.” Dix-huitieme siècle 34 (2002): 289–91.

17

Didier Masseau, “La position des apologistes conciliateurs,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 127. Masseau refers in particular to Charles Bellet, Les droits de la religion chrétienne et catholique sur le coeur de l’homme (1764).

18

Robert Mauzi, L’idée du bonheur dans la littérature et la pensée françaises au XVIII siècle (Paris, 1965): 181.

19

Benedetta Craveri, The Age of Conversation (Teresa Waugh, trans., New York, 2005): 327.

20

See Appendix B. This library had even more from the mid-nineteenth century onward however I did not include any books later than the 1830s. On the Benedictines and Enlightenment thought see Luís A. de Oliveira Ramos, Os Beneditinos e a cultura: ressonâncias da ilustração (Porto, 1984).

21

On the Sao Paulo monastery and Egana’s collection see Appendices 2, 3.

22

See Yonan, “The Wieskirche: Movement, Perception, and Salvation in the Bavarian Rococo,” Studies in Eighteenth Century Culture 41 (2012): 19.

23

On Kant’s “categorical imperative,” and Diderot see Pagden, The Enlightenment, 76, 94.

24

Folio volante sobre la vida del famoso Fray Gerundio de Campazas (Vienna, 1758). See Rebecca Haidt, Seduction and Sacrilege: Rhetorical Power in Fray Gerundio de Campazas (Cranbury, 2002): 13.

25

Louis-Antoine Caraccioli, L’Europe française (Turin, 1776): 204, 207.

26

Caraccioli, L’Europe française, 278–9.

27

Alastair Laing, “French Ornamental Engravings and the Diffusion of the Rococo,” in Henri Zerner, ed., Le stampe e la diffusione delle immagini e degli stili (Bologna, 1983): 109.

28

Maria Renata da Cruz Duran, Ecos do pulpito: oratório sagrada no tempo de D. João VI (Sao Paulo, 2010): 50–51.

29

The original texts of many of these treatises have been compiled in Paola Barocchi, Trattati d’arte del Cinquecento (Bari, 1961). For a thorough bibliography on post-Tridentine image theory, see Pamela Jones, Federico Borromeo and the Ambrosiana (Cambridge, 1993): 117–26. On imagery after Trent, see also: Ilse von zur Mühlen, “Imaginibus honos-Ehre sei dem Bild: Die Jesuiten und die Bilderfrage,” in Reinhold Baumstark, Rom in Bayern: Kunst und Spiritualität der ersten Jesuiten (Munich, 1997): 161–70. On the notion of causality, or the impact of treatise writers on art (specifically, of Gabriele Paleotti on the Carracci), see: A.W.A. Boschloo, Annibale Carracci in Bologna. Visible Reality in Art after the Council of Trent (The Hague, 1974).

30

See Gauvin Alexander Bailey, Between Renaissance and Baroque: Jesuit Art in Rome, 1565–1610 (Toronto, 2003): 14–16.

314 The Spiritual Rococo

31

Wylie Sypher, Rococo to Cubism in Art and Literature (New York, 1960): 4, 238–9. For a more recent consideration of Art Nouveau’s ties to Rococo see Penelope Hunter-Stiebel, “Art Nouveau,” in Coffin, Rococo, the Continuing Curve, 207–17.

32

Ellen Lupton, “The Modern Curve: Form, Structure, and Image in the Twentieth Century and Beyond,” in Coffin, Rococo, the Continuing Curve, 219.

33

Alison McQueen, Empress Eugénie and the Arts: Politics and Visual Culture in the Nineteenth Century (Farnham, 2011): 196; Gérard Rousset-Charny, Le domaine de Sceaux (Paris, 2000): 24–5, 38. See also Mary Sheriff, Fragonard: Art and Eroticism (Chicago, 1990: 9–16.

34

Michael Fried, Manet’s Modernism: Or, the Face of Painting in the 1860s (Chicago, 1996): 72. See also pp. xxv, 44, 57–8.

35

On Rincklake, see: Gerhard Ribbrock, August und Wilhelm Rincklake: Historismusarchitekten des späten 19. Jahrhunderts (Bonn, 1985): 34, 107–8; on the São Francisco altarpiece see Tirapeli, Igrejas Paulistas, 184.

36

On the San Ignacio renovation see Stella Genovese-Oeyen, Buenos Aires Colonial: la iglesia de San Ignacio (Buenos Aires, 1946): 96; María de las Nieves Arias Incollá, “Evolución historica,” in Soulés, Manzana de las Luces (Buenos Aires, 1983): 95–6.

37

On Driendl’s work for Rio cathedral see Myriam Andrade Ribeiro de Oliveira, “O rococó na Igreja do Carmo da Antiga Sé,” in José Santos, Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Se (Rio de Janeiro, 2009): 115.

38

These styles were promoted in particular by fashionable Palm Beach interior decorators and they reached a middle-class audience through magazines such as American Home and Family Circle magazines. Greer commented in a 1954 article in the St. Petersburg Times that the home “should have some furnishings keyed to the romantic elegance of days goneby for a change of pace” [St Petersburg Times, June 30, 1954, 20].

39

Lupton, “The Modern Curve,” 227.

40

Maury Dean, Rock ‘n’ Roll Gold Rush: A Singles Un-cyclopedia (New York, 2003): 381.

41

Lupton, “The Modern Curve,” 222–3. On “New Rococo” fashion, see Rebecca Arnold, “New rococo: Sofia Coppola and the fashions in contemporary femininity,” in Hyde, Melissa, and Katie Scott, eds., Rococo echo: art, theory and historiography from Cochin to Coppola (Oxford, 2015).

42

Sabine Melchior-Bonnet, Histoire de la Frivolité (Paris, 2013): 8.

43

Alison Unruh, “Warhol’s Rococo,” in Hyde and Scott, eds, Rococo Echo (forthcoming).

44

Michael Kimmelman, “Art in Review,” The New York Times (29 November, 1991), C 28.

45

Koons is quoted in Robert Rosenblum, “Jeff Koons: Christ and the Lamb,” Artforum International, 32.1 (Sept. 1993): 148 and in Lupton, “The Modern Curve,” 232. See also Raphaël Bouvier, “Jeff Koons’ Christ and the Lamb: Spiegelung as Erbauung,” in Kunsttexte.de 2 (2010): 1–9.

46

Rosenblum, “Jeff Koons,” 148.

Appendix A: French Spiritual Literature in Central European Collections

Explanation of Appendices Appendices A–C list French spiritual literature from the late seventeenth to eighteenth centuries in (A) Central European, (B) Luso-Brazilian, and (C) Spanish South American libraries of the eighteenth (and, in a few cases, early nineteenth) centuries. They are compiled from manuscript inventories of the period and other archival references; published catalogues or studies; and extant holdings in libraries which can securely be located in those libraries in the eighteenth century. Each library is represented separately under each book heading with its name and place followed by the year in which the inventory was drawn up (if applicable or available). If it is a private library I have given the name of the individual collector and, where possible, the inventory date or life dates of the owner. Within square brackets following the name of the library are listed first the shelf number/document reference. In the case of inventories or other manuscript references the document shelf number is given in italics; where current shelf numbers for extant books are used they are listed in normal script. Where the reference is from a publication I list the author’s last name and short title, which is then given in full in an endnote. After the shelf number, in round brackets I have listed—where available—the language, place of publication, date of publication, number of volumes, and number of copies of the individual holdings). If no language is mentioned the book is in French; otherwise the following abbreviations are used: “Ger.” for German, “Sp.” for Spanish, “Port.” for Portuguese, “It.” For Italian, and “Lat.” for Latin. Under each book heading each library is only represented once, so if that library has more than one copy or edition of that book they will all be listed within the same pair of square brackets, each with its shelf number and (in round brackets) its language, place of publication, date, and number of volumes, separated by semicolons. The exception is where there are inventories of different dates for the same collection, in which case I list them separately,

316 The Spiritual Rococo

but only if they do not refer to the same book. To save space I have given abbreviations for the archives/libraries (they are listed at the beginning of this book) and have not given the full title of the archival documents, although they are usually just inventories of the library in question. Given the sheer number of surviving inventories and holdings I have been very selective for Appendix A and B, listing only works directly pertinent to my discussion in Chapter 1 of the French style of preaching and the literatures of the Spiritual Rococo and the Christianity of Reason. Because extant holdings and inventories are much rarer in Spanish South America— they have suffered greatly from theft or destruction and inventory references are often piecemeal—I have listed all late-seventeenth to eighteenth-century French spiritual and philosophical works to give a wider view of the interest in French literature in that part of the world. Nevertheless because of the overwhelming number of holdings of these works in all regions I have omitted from all Appendices the work of Francis of Sales, Jean-Baptiste De la Salle, and the non-spiritual works of Fénelon—specifically Les aventures de Télémaque, even though the work is deeply moralistic and spiritual. All three of these authors were so popular that the volume of their work would probably double the size of the appendices.

Appendix A Ameline, Claude, L’Art de vivre heureux Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Stuttgart, 1761)] Bellegarde, Jean-Baptiste Morvan de, L’Art de connoître les hommes Carmelite Monastery, Straubing, 1768 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 766 (Ger., Vienna & Leipzig, 1712)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1534 (Ger., Vienna & Leipzig, 1712)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II I/3 24 (Liege, 1703); A-14/3h-2, XIII F/2 38 (Amsterdam, 1709, 2 cop.); XIII F/2 34 (Ger., Leipzig, 1723); XVI F/3 62 (Sp., Antwerp, 1755)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/XVII/m (Amsterdam, 1709)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.99 (Amsterdam, 1710); 8.Fs.514 (Ger., Vienna & Leipzig, 1712)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 1049 (Amsterdam, 1709); Lm 341 (2) (Amsterdam, 1709)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 L 59 (Amsterdam, 1709); 65 F 100 (Amsterdam, 1709)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/031 [SSA, Phil 253 (Ger., Vienna & Leipzig, 1712)] L’Art de plaire dans la conversation Fr Franz Westermayr, O.S.A. 1712 [BSB, Ph.pr. 111 (Amsterdam, 1712)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.107 (The Hague, 1743)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 252 (Amsterdam, 1711)] Le chrétien honnête homme

Appendix A 317

Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV I/1 33 (The Hague, 1736)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Tg 23 (The Hague, 1736)] L’Éducation parfaite Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I C/2 36, XV F/3 31 (The Hague, 1726, 2 cop.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Pa 29 (Amsterdam, 1710)] Lettres curieuses de littérature et de morale Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Leipzig, 1760)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II H/2 08 (Ger., Leipzig, 1715)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, 30146 (Paris, 1702)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 333 (The Hague, 1734); M. Lm 332 (Amsterdam, 1707); M. Lm 331 (Paris, 1702); M. Lm 330 (The Hague, 1702); M. Lm Sammelbd 4 (2) (The Hague, 1702)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 F 101 (Amsterdam, 1707); 65 F 102 (Leipzig, 1760)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 115 (Amsterdam, 1707)]; Andreas Felix von Oefele (1706–80), Munich [BSB, Epist.60 (Amsterdam, 1707)] Maximes avec des examples tirés de l’histoire sainte et profane Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV I/3 32 (The Hague, 1740)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 334 (Paris, 1718)]; Augustinian Monastery, Gars am Inn [BSB, Paed.th. 405 (Paris, 1719)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 F 104 (The Hague, 1726)]; Andreas Felix von Oefele (1706– 80), Munich [BSB, Paed.th. 404 (Paris, 1718)] Modèles de conversations pour les personnes polies Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Amsterdam, 1709)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I F/3 34, VII D/2 2 (The Hague, 1734, 2 cop.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Gars am Inn [BSB, Ph.pr. 113 (Paris, 1699)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.105 (The Hague, 1730)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 355 (The Hague, 1719); M. Lm Sammelbd 4 (1) (Paris, n.d.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, B IX 444 (Paris, 1701); 12 K 125 (Paris, 1730); 65 F 105 (Leipzig, 1763); 65 F 103 (Ger., Leipzig, 1715); 65 F 106 (Ger., Leipzig, 1710)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 252 (Amsterdam, 1709)] Nouvelles lettres familières et autres sur toutes sortes de sujets Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2531b (Brussels, 1716); M. Lm 2531a (Brussels, 1707)] Réflexions sur ce qui peut plaire ou déplaire dans le commerce du monde Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Amsterdam, 1709, 2 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI B/2 03 (The Hague, 1728); XV F/3 20 (The Hague, 1734)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-G-V-46/1–2 (Amsterdam, 1712, 2 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, MM mitte VII 25–27 (Lyon, 1696, 3 vol.)]; Franciscan Monastery, Munich [BSB, Ph.pr. 113n (Amsterdam, 1712)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.104 (The Hague, 1729); 18.Fs.108 (The Hague, 1758)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 338 (Amsterdam, 1705); M. Lm 337 (Amsterdam, 1699)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 Y 54 (Paris, 1689); J III 51 (Paris, 1690); 12 K 117 (Amsterdam, 1699);

318 The Spiritual Rococo

12 J 178 (Amsterdam, 1712)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 117 (Amsterdam, 1709); Th S 117 (Amsterdam, 1708)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich 1719 [BSB, Ph.pr. 113m (Amsterdam, 1709)] Réflexions sur l’élégance et la politesse du style Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Amsterdam, 1706)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Amsterdam, 1706)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.106 (The Hague, 1735)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich [BSB, L.lat.f 14 (Paris, 1701)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1706 [BSB, Ph.pr. 114c (Paris, 1700)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm Sammelbd 3 (1) (The Hague, 1715); M. Lm 339 (Amsterdam, 1706)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 115 (Amsterdam, 1706)] Réflexions sur la ridicule, et sur les moyens de l’eviter Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Amsterdam, 1707)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.98 (Amsterdam, 1701); 8.Fs.512/1 (Ger., Leipzig, 1710); 18.Fs.103 (The Hague, 1729); 8.Fs.513 (Ger., Klagenfurt, 1774)]; Andreas Felix von Oefele (1706–80), Munich [BSB, Ph.pr. 115 (Amsterdam, 1699)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 343 (Ger., Leipzig, 1710); M. Lm 342 (Ger., Leipzig, 1708); M. Lm 341 (1); (Amsterdam, 1701); M. Lm 340 (Amsterdam, 1699)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, D IX 2 (Paris, 1696); 65 F 109 (Paris, 1696); D IX 1 (Amsterdam, 1701); 12 K 637 (Amsterdam, 1712); 12 K 63 (The Hague, 1720); 65 F 110 (Ger., Leipzig, 1710)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 116 (Amsterdam, 1707); CP 3000 (Amsterdam, 1701)] Réflexions sur la politesse des mœurs Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Amsterdam, 1707)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV F/3 19 (The Hague, 1734)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.98 (Amsterdam, 1703); 8.Fs.512/2 (Ger., Leipzig, 1708); 18.Fs.100 (The Hague, 1717); 18.Fs.102 (The Hague, 1728)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1717 [BSB, Ph.pr. 114h (Ger., Leipzig, 1708)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Hg 3 (The Hague, 1734)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 K 637 (Amsterdam, 1712); 65 F 107 (The Hague, 1717); 65 F 108 (Ger., Leipzig, 1716)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 116 (Amsterdam, 1707); Phil 250 (Paris, 1708); S 130 (The Hague, 1717)] Les règles de la vie civile, avec les traits d’histoire, pour former l’esprit d’un jeune prince Fransiscan Monastery, Straubing, 1786 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 375 (Ger., Leipzig, 1709)]; Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Leipzig, 1709)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VIII G/3 27, XV I/2 01 (The Hague, 1731, 2 cop.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.511 (Ger., Leipzig, 1709)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 K 57 (Amsterdam, 1707); 12 K 19 (Ger., Leipzig, 1709)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 117 (Amsterdam, 1707)]

Appendix A 319

Bergier, Nicholas-Sylvestre. L’Âme éclairée par les oracles de la sagesse Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1282 (Lyon, 1780)] L’Âme religieuse élevée à la perfection Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1292 (Lyon, 1788)] Apologie de la religion chrétienne contre l’auteur du Christianisme dévoilé Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; St. Nikola Abbey, Passau, 1803 [BHA, St. Nikola Passau Amtsbücher und Akten 1028 (Ger., Bamberg & Wurzburg, 1786, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/III/d/b/3 (Ger., Bamberg, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Wessobrunn Abbey [BSB, Polem.244-2 (Paris, 1776)]; Franciscan Canons, Polling [BSB, Polem.243-1-2 (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Passau [BSB, Polem.244 b1, b-2 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1786–87, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bf.92/1–2 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1786–7, 2 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/RB.570/1–2 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1786–87, 2 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 194 (Paris, 1770)] La certitude des preuves du Christianisme Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger., Cologne, 1787)]; St. Nikola Abbey Passau, 1803 [BHA, St. Nikola Passau Amtsbücher und Akten 1028 (Ger., Cologne, 1787)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/XVII/d-b (Ger., Cologne, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Be.214 (Ger., Cologne, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/032.36/1-2 (Ger., Cologne, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 75 C 310 (Paris, 1767); 65 E 193 (Paris, 1770); 65 E 982 (Paris, 1771)] Le déisme réfuté par lui-même Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 1766)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger., Augsburg, 1786)]; St. Nikola Abbey, Passau, 1803 [BHA, St. Nikola Passau Amtsbücher und Akten 1028 (Ger., Augsburg, 1786, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/V/i-b (Ger., Vienna, 1779, 2 vol.)]; Franciscan Canons, Polling [BSB, Polem.249 (Paris, 1770)]; the Electors Palatine [BSB, Polem.247-1-2 (Paris, 1765, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bf.11 (Ger., Augsburg, 1786); Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/058.164/1-2 (Ger., Augsburg, 1786, 2 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 192 (Paris, 1768); 35 D 248 (Ger., 1779)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Ger., Vienna, 1779, 2 vol.)] Examen du matérialisme ou réfutation du système de la nature Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; St. Nikola Abbey Passau, 1803 [BHA, St. Nikola Passau Amtsbücher und Akten 1028 (Ger., Bamberg & Wurzburg, 1788, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 1/XVI/g (Ger., Bamberg, 1788, 2 vol.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey [BSB, Polem.251 a-2 (Paris, 1771, vol. 2)]; Franciscan Canons, Polling [BSB, Polem.251-1-2 (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 30145 (Paris, 1771)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/058.163/1-2 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1788, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bf.91 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1788, 2 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 195 (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.); 75 C 312 (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.); S d 431 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1788)]

320 The Spiritual Rococo

Traité historique et dogmatique de la vraie religion Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger., Bamberg, 1788)]; St. Nikola Abbey, Passau, 1803 [BHA, St. Nikola Passau Amtsbücher und Akten 1028 (Ger., Bamberg & Wurzburg, 1788, 2 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, IV B/1 47–49, IV G/2 02–12 (Ger., Budweis, 1798–99, 12 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/V/B/I (Ger., Bamberg, 1791, 12 vol.); 3/VIII/e (Ger., Budweis, 1799, 12 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-B-V-89-100 (Paris, 1780, 12 vol.); K-P-III-1-11 (Ger., Budweis, 1798–99, 12 vol.)]; Franciscan Canons, Polling [BSB, Polem.252-2 (Paris, 1780)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bf.9 (Paris, 1780); 8.Bf.10/12 (Ger., 1792, Bamberg & Würzburg, 12 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/073.82/1– 12 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1788–92, 12 vol.)]; Kaiser Ferdinand, Vienna [NKCR, 35 F 331 (12 vol., Paris, 1784–85)]; Augustinian Monastery, Passau [BSB, Polem.253 b-1-12 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1788, 12 vol.); Polem.253 b-12 (Ger., Würzburg, 1792, 12 vol.)] Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, De la connoissance de Dieu, et de soi-même Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1741)] Directions pour la conscience des personnes de tout état Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.430 (The Hague, 1754)] Élévations à Dieu sur tous les mystères de la religion chrétienne Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1727)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676 (Ger., 2 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-I-262-263 (Paris, 1747, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.118/1–2 (Paris, 1753, 2 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Passau [BSB, Asc.726-1-4 (Paris, 1752, 4 vol.); Asc.721-1-2 (Paris, 1753, 2 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1727); (Paris, 1753)] Explication de quelques difficultés sur les prières de la messe Benediktbeuern Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1534 (Paris, 1689)] Instruction pastorale sur les promesses de l’Église Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1726)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1729); Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, C VIII 45 (Paris, 1729)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-V-II-61 (Paris, 1726); K-U-II-34 (Paris, 1726)] Lettres spirituelles St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-I-368 (Paris, 1746)] Maximes et réflections sur la comédie Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1728)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, B IX 392 (Paris, 1728)] Méditations sur l’Évangile St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-I-227, III-8,9, I-31 (Paris, 1752, 2 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1192 (Paris, 1731)]; Augustinian Monastery, Passau [BSB, Asc.726-1-3 (Paris, 1752, 3 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1752); (Paris, 1791)]

Appendix A 321

Œuvres/Sermons Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Venice, 1736, 3 vol.)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Ger., Leipzig, 1757)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546]; Polling Abbey, 1779–82 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 447 (2 cop.)]; Ettal Abbey, 1803 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 691 (Ger., 1681)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1534 (Paris, 1690)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I G/1 26–28, XV F1/18–19 (Strasbourg, 1747–57, 6 vol.); XV B/1 22–33, XVI H/1 07–21 (Ger., Steyr, 1778– 84, 15 vol., 2 sets)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/III/E/d-b (Venice, 1757, 10 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-C-III-5-14 (Strasbourg, 1736–57, 9 vol.); K-AIII-1-15 (Ger., Steyr, 1778, 15 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 4.Fs.2/1-10 (Strasbourg, 1736–57, 10 vol.); 4.Fs.3/12 (Paris, 1778, 12 vol.); 8.Fs.,518/1–15 (Ger., Steyr, 1784, 15 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/4.279.1/1–9 (Paris, 1757, 9 vol.); M/114.7/11 (Strasbourg, 1747); M/012.64/1–15 (Steyr, 1778–84, 15 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Strasbourg, 1736–57, 10 vol.); (Paris, 1745–53, 20 vol.); (Venice, 1752, 7 vol.); (Liege, 1766– 68)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, 4 LA, 1–6 (Paris, 1748–49, 6 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 75 A 10 (Strasbourg, 1736–57, 10 vol.); 65 L 49 (Paris, 1743–44, 12 vol.)]; The Elector Palatine [BSB, Hom.1971-8 (Paris, 1772, 8 vol.)] Oraisons Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.BM.204/1–11 (Ger., Steyr, 1778–82, 11 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, A173, 1–10 (Steyr, 1778– 84, 15 vol.)] Oraisons funèbres Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I H/2 10 (Ger., Vienna, 1764)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 401 (Paris, 1689) IV, 181 (Nimes & Brussels, 1696)2]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/012.73 (Ger., Vienna, 1764)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-IV-22 (Paris, 1754)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1704); (Paris, 1754); (Paris, 1762)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 10 E 132 (Ger., Leipzig & Züllichau, 1764)] Recueil des oraisons funèbres Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Or.fun.4 (Paris, 1762)] Relation sur le quiétisme Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 543 (Paris, 1698)]; StPölten Abbey [DASP, K-P-III-12/1 (Paris, 1698)] La séduction éludée ou Lettres de Mr. l’Évêque de Meaux Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Tp 62 (Berne, 1686)] Bourdaloue, Louis, Exhortations et instructions chrétiennes Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 1723)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, IX E/3 56–57 (Lyon, 1721, 2 vol.); II A/1 21–22, IV B/1 15–16 (Paris, 1721, 2 vol., 2 sets); XV I/2 22–23 (Paris, 1723, 2 vol.); II I/3 (Paris, 1750, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/G/g-a (Lyon,

322 The Spiritual Rococo

1721); 2/V/A/I (Paris, 1750, 2 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 399 (Lyon, 1721, 2 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-AIII-99-100 (Paris, 1734, 2 vol.); K-A-III-97-98 (Paris, 1750)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/213.300/1-2 (Paris, 1721, 2 vol.); M/287.1 (It., Venice, 1745)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1721, 2 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 I 54 (Paris, 1721, 2 vol.); 65 E 154 (Paris, 1721, 2 vol.); 65 E 162 (Lyon, 1721, 2 vol.); 65 E 149 (Liege, 1773, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 580 (2 vol., Lyon, 1756)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24300.1-2 (Liege, 1773, 2 vol.)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.208,VI-2 (Paris, 1721)] Panégyriques Heiligenkreuz Library [BZH, 2/VI/E/h, 4/XII/d (Ger., Prague, 2 vol.)] Pensées sur divers sujets de la religion et de morale Karl Theodor Kurfürst von Pfalzbayern [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208b]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1735)]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II I/3 21–22 (Paris, 1758, 3 vol.); XV H/1 13–15 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773, 3 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/D/h (Paris, 1752–53, 3 vol.); 1/XIV/f-a, 2/VI/E/h (Ger., Augsburg, 1773, 3 vol.)]; Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, Asc.779-1-2 (Paris, 1736, 2 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, VI-137, II-24, VI-138 (Paris, 1758, 3 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/MB.494/1-3 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773, 3 vol.); M/213.298/3 (Paris, 1774)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1752)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 D 55 (Paris, 1734, 2 vol.); 36 D 19 (Paris, 1735, 3 vol.); 65 E 150 (Paris, 1771, 3 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24296.1-2 (Brussels, 1755, 2 vol.); Magazin BiB 1033– 34 (Brussels, 1769, 2 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 3917/Th A 1462 (Ger., Augsburg, n.d., 2 vol.); BV007327188 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773, 3 vol.)] Retrait spirituelle à l’usage des communautés religieuses Franciscan Monastery of Neunburg vorm Wald, 1745 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 359 (Ger., Augsburg, 1749)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 1743)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 I (Ger., Augsburg, 1734)]; Ettal Abbey, 1803 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 691 (Ger., Augsburg, 1731)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I G/2 31 (Ger., Augsburg, 1721); I G/2 27 (Ger., Augsburg, 1734); I E/3 39 (Paris, 1747); XV I/2 (Paris, 1753); XIV E/3 15, XIV D/3 22 (Sp., Barcelona, 2 cop.); I G/3 08 (Ger., Augsburg, 1758)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/II/C/I (Ger., Augsburg, 1719)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 541 (Ger., Augsburg, 1724)]; Benedictine Convent of St Walburg, Eichstatt [BSB, Asc.779x (Ger., Ausgburg, 1729)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-III-119 (Ger., Augsburg, 1729); K-U-III-79 (Paris, 1753)]; Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, Asc.781 (Ger., Augsburg, 1741)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/213.297 (Paris, 1753); M/Wy.183 (Ger., Augsburg, 1758); M/MB.517 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768); M/L12.Asc.368/1-2 (Ger., Einsiedeln, 1785, 2 vol.); M/ L12.Asc.182 (Ger., Augsburg, 1729)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB,

Appendix A 323

Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1724); (It., Venice, 1732)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 D 56 (Paris, 1721); 65 E 152 (Paris, 1721); 65 E 156 (Paris, 1721); 36 D 177 (Ger., Augsburg, 1731); 65 E 161 (Lyon, 1721); 65 E 151 (Liege, 1773)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 18726 (Ger., Augsburg, 1731); Magazin 20739.2 (Ger., Augsburg, 1758); Magazin 22043 (Liege, 1773)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 581 (Lyon, 1754)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 3576 (Ger., Augsburg, 1729); BV035018571 (Ger., Augsburg, 1731, 5 vol.); BV035018173 (Einsiedeln, n.d., 6 vol.); Th Pr 311 (Ger., Augsburg, 1731); Th Pr 3577 (Ger., Augsburg, 1734); Th Pr 3578 (Ger., Augsburg, 1741); Th Pr 3526 (Ger., Augsburg, 1748); Th Pr 3579 (Ger., Augsburg, 1758); Th Pr 312 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Gift of Baja California missionary Jakob Begert SJ to fellow missionary Franz Inama SJ, Neustadt 1769 [BSB, Asc.774 (Lyon, 1727)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.208.VII (Paris, 1721)] Sermons Franciscan Monastery of Neunburg vorm Wald, 1745 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 359 (Ger., Augsburg, 1735, 9 vol.)]; Karl Theodor Kurfürst von Pfalzbayern [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208b]; Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Lyon, 1716)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 2 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Burghausen [BSB, Cbm Cat. 302 (Ger., 5 vol.)]; Baumburg Abbey, 1797 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 403 (Ger., Prague, 1785, 14 vol.)]; Franciscan Monastery, Eggenfelden, 1785 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 344 (Ger., Vienna, 1730)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger., 12 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger.)]; Jesuit Residence, Altötting, 1748 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 309 (4 vol.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II]; Andechs Abbey, ca. 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 388 (Antwerp, 1714)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II (Paris, 1707, 4 vol.)]; St. Nikola Abbey, Passau, 1803 [BHA, St. Nikola Passau Amtsbücher und Akten 1028 (Ger., Prague, 1760)]; Beuerberg Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1504 (Ger., Cologne, 1738)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XIV H/2 17 (Ger., Breslau, 1748); II I/1 21–27 (Ger., Prague, 1760–68 12 vol.); VIII B2 41, X E/3 19–21 (Ger., Dresden, 1760–68); II C/2 10 (Ger., Augsburg, 1785); I B/2 06, XVI C/2 23–29 (Ger., Vienna, 1786–87, 8 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/E/d (Lat., Augsburg, 1716); 2/IV/E/b (Ger., Vienna, 1749); 2/V/A/i (Paris, 1750, 11 vol.); 2/VI/E/h (Ger., Prague, 1760– 87, 14 vol.); 3/V/i-b (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1791, 2 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg, 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 243 (Ger., Vienna, 1738–46, 5 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Au am Inn [BSB, Hom.934-1-4 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1787, 4 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-III-107-110 (Paris, 1707, 4 vol.); K-A-III-111-112 (Paris, 1716, 2 vol.); K-A-I-40 (Ger., Vienna, 1749); K-A-III-91-104/2 (Paris, 1750, 12 vol.); K-A-IV-1-14 (Ger., Prague & Dresden, 1760–68, 14 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 2.Bm.158 (Ger., Vienna, 1738); 2.Bm.157 (Ger., Vienna, 1749); 8.Bm 189a/1-3, 189/1-9 (Ger., Prague, 1763, 14 vol.); Bmb.35/1-2 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1791, 2 vol.)]; Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, 2 Hom.27 (Ger., Vienna, 1746)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/263.230/1–2 (Lyon, 1711, 2 vol.); M/012.71/1-4 (Antwerp, 1713, 4 vol.);

324 The Spiritual Rococo

M/073.85/1-14 (Ger., Prague, 1760–68, 14 vol.); M/289.245 (Ger., Augsburg, 1785); M/175.297/1-2 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1787, 2 vol.); M/069.34/1-2 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1791, 2 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Ger., Vienna, 1738)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 34 F 205 (Antwerp, 1713); 34 C 246 (Ger., Prague, 1760–65, 5 vol.); 34 C 247 (Ger., Prague, 1766–68); 34 E 426 (Ger., Vienna, 1786)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 23128 (Ger., Vienna, 1738); Magazin 24622.1-14 (Lyon, 1778–86, 14 vol.); Magazin 9775.1-14 (Lyon, 1769–71, 14 vol.); Magazin 25524.1–8 (Lyon, 1708–11, 7 vol.)]; Floridus, Provost of Chiemsee 1736 [BSB, 2.Hom.26 (Ger., Vienna, 1749)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. 591 (Ger., Prague, 1760–68), 14 vol.]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV039946391 (Ger., Prague, 1760–68, 14 vol.); 2 Th Pr 11 (Ger., Vienna, 1738); BV004988943 (Lat., Augsburg, n.d.); Th Pr 3580 (Ger., Augsburg, 1785); Enc 606–29 (Ger., Augsburg, 1786)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... pour l’Avent Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1750); (Ger., 1748)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 1743)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit College, Burghausen [BSB, Cbm Cat. 302 (Lat.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Ebersburg, 1758 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 304 (Ger.)]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Lat.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Lat.)]; Jesuit Residence, Altötting, 1748 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 309 (Lat.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Lat., Augsburg, 1716)]; Tegernsee Abbey, after 1747 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 511 (Lat., Augsburg, 1716)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, IV B/1 06 (Paris, 1716); II I/2 26 (Paris, 1750); IX E/3 35 (Paris, 1759); I B/3 05 (Ger., Kempten, 1785)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/I/E/g (Paris, 1750)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 400 (Lyon, 1723)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/041.78 (Ger., Vienna, 1749)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1719 [BSB, Hom.203-1 (Lat., Augsburg, 1716)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1707)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 170 (Paris, 1707); 34 G 76 (Lyon, 1708) 65 E 155 (Paris, 1708); 34 F 263 (Paris, 1716); 34 F 212 (Ger., Augsburg, 1716); 34 C 135 (Ger., Regensburg, 1748); 65 E 144 (Paris, 1773)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24299 (Liege, 1773)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 582 (Lyon, 1757)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... pour le Carême Fransiscan Monastery, Straubing, 1786 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 375 (Ger., Augsburg, 1715, 8 vol.); Ger., Augsburg, 1716, 8 vol.)]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1750)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit College, Burghausen [BSB, Cbm Cat. 302 (Lat.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Ebersburg, 1758 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 304 (Ger.)]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Lat.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I]; Jesuit Residence, Altötting, 1748 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 309 (Lat.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II A/1 24, 30–31 (Paris, 1716, 3 vol.); II I/2 27, II I/3 35 (Paris, 1750, 3 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/G/g-a (Lyon, 1723); 2/V/A/I (Paris, 1750, 3

Appendix A 325

vol.); 2/VI/E/h, 4/XII/d, 6/IV/F/e (Ger., Prague, 1760–63, 5 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 400 (Lyon, 1723, 3 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/213.303/1-3 (Paris, 1716, 3 vol.); M/041.78 (Ger., Vienna, 1749)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1733 [BSB, Hom.204-1 (La Flèche, 1714)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1707, 3 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 34 E 341 (Paris, 1694); 65 E 167 (Paris, 1707, 3 vol.); 65 E 159 (Paris, 1708, 3 vol.); 34 F 212 (Lat., Augsburg, 1715); 34 B 231 (Ger., Regensburg, 1752–55, 3 vol.); 65 E 177 (Liege, 1773, 3 vol.); 65 E 922 (Liege, 1773, 3 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24340.1-2 (Liege, 1773, 2 vol.); Magazin 35354.1-2 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 584 (Lyon, 1757); M. Lm 583 (3 vol., Paris, 1692); M. Lm 584 (3 vol., Lyon, 1756–7)] Sermons pour les dimanches Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 1726)]; Jesuit College, Burghausen [BSB, Cbm Cat. 302 (Ger., 4 vol.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Ebersburg, 1758 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 304 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI B/1 10 (Vienna, 1738); IV B/1 07-10, II A1 29–38, XV I/2 14–17 (Paris, 1716–26, 4 vol., 3 sets); II I/3 33–34 (Paris, 1750, 4 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/G/g-a (Lyon, 1724–25, 2 vol.); 2/IV/J/d (Ger., Vienna, 1738); 2/V/A/I (Paris, 1750, 4 vol.); 2/VI/ Eh, 1/XI/da-b (Ger., Prague, 1763–5, 5 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg, 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 399 (Lyon, 1716, 4 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Au am Inn [BSB, Hom.209-10 (Lyon, 1724)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/213.302/14 (Paris, 1726, 4 vol.); M/041/76 (Vienna, 1738); M/324.00135/4 (Paris, 1750); M/ MB.444/1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1785)]; Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, Hom.212m.II-1-4 (Paris, 1733)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-I-39 (Ger., Vienna, 1738)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1716, 3 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 928 (Lyon, 1716 4 vol.); 65 E 158 (Paris, 1716, 4 vol.); 65 E 168 (Paris, 1716, 3 vol.); 65 E 145 (Liege, 1773, 4 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 585 (4 vol., Lyon, 1756)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011378004 (Lyon, n.d.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24301-1-4 (Liege, 1773, 4 vol.)]; the Electors Palatine [BSB, Hom.206-1-4 (Ger., Augsburg, 1785, 4 vol.)] Sermons pour les fêtes des saints Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1712); (Paris, 1750)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit Novitiate, Ebersburg, 1758 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 304 (Ger.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II (Lyon, 1732, 2 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II I/2 36–37 (Paris, 1712, 2 vol.); XV I/2 20–21, II A/1 27–28, IV B/1 11–12 (Paris, 1712– 26, 5 vol.); XV I/2 20 (Paris, 1726)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/G/g-a (Lyon, 1720); 2/V/A/i (Paris, 1750, 2 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 399 (Lyon, 1720, 2 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/012.72/1 (Amsterdam, 1712); M/213.301/1-2 (Paris, 1723, 2 vol.); M/041.77 (Ger., Vienna, 1746); M/2.DF.64 (Ger., Vienna, 1749)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-I-41 (Ger., Vienna, 1746)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1711, 2 vol.); (Ger., Salzburg, 1759, 2 vol.); M/

326 The Spiritual Rococo

RB.532/1-14 (Ger., Kempten, 1785, 14 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 169 (Paris, 1711, 2 vol.); 65 E 153 (Paris, 1712, 2 vol.); 65 E 157 (Paris, 1712); 65 E 163 (Lyon, 1720, 2 vol.); 34 C 125 (It., Venice, 1726); 34 E 483 (Paris, 1759); 65 E 146 (Liege, 1773)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 588 (2 vol., Lyon, 1756); M. Lm 587 (2 vol., Amsterdam, 1712)]; Staatsund Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011378083 (Lyon, 1712)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24298.1-2 (Liege, 1773, 2 vol.); EE mitte IV 26 (Ger., Einsiedeln, 1785)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.208.V-1,2 (Paris, 1711, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 586 (Paris, 1692)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 F 1666 (Brussels, 1692); 34 F 207 (Amsterdam, 1712, 2 vol.)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... sur les mystères Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Antwerp, 1712); (Paris, 1750, 2 cop.)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 I, II (Paris, 1709, 2 vol.); (1713, 2 vol.); ]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II A/1 23–26 (Paris, 1709, 3 vol.); IV B/1 13–14, XV I/2 18–19 (Paris, 1726, 2 vol., 2 sets); II I/3 20–21 (Paris, 1759, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/G/g-a (Lyon, 1729); 2/V/A/I (Paris, 1750, 2 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 400 (Lyon, 1729, 2 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Au am Inn [BSB, Hom.2096 (Lyon, 1719)]; Franciscan Monastery, Munich [BSB, Hom.212,IV-2 (Paris, 1723)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/La.292/2 (Lyon, 1709); M/MB.267/2 (Lyon, 1711); M/071.582/1–2 (Antwerp, 1713, 2 vol.); M/213.296/1–2 (Paris, 1726, 2 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1709, 2 vol.); (Paris, 1711, 11 vol.); (Ger., Prague, 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 160 (Paris, 1709, 2 vol.); 34 G 32 (Lyon, 1711); 34 F 206 (Antwerp, 1713, 2 vol.); 65 E 165 (Lyon, 1719); 65 E 166 (Paris, 1719, 2 vol.); 65 E 148 (Liege, 1773, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 590 (Lyon, 1756); M. Lm 589 (Antwerp, 1713)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, 4 Th Pr 886 (It., Venice, 1757); BV011378055 (Lyon, 1711)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24302 (Liege, 1773)] Bretonneau, François, Mystères Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, 4 Th Pr 886 (It., Venice, 1752)] Sermons Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Augsburg, 7 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XIII G/2 41–47 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767, 7 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/I/A/k, 4/X/i (Ger., Augsburg, 1767, 7 vol., 3 sets)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, A-III-114, 118–123 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767–68, 7 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 18985.1–7 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767–68, 7 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.201/1–7 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767–8, 7 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/012.51/1–7 (Augsburg, 1767, 7 vol.)]; Fr Franz Xaver Scherer SJ, Dillingen (3rd ¼ eighteenth century) [BSB,

Appendix A 327

hom.235-1–7 (Paris, 1749, 7 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 34 C 262 (7 vol., Augsburg, 1767–68)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011232189 (Ger., Augsburg, n.d.)] Sermons du père Bretonneau de la Compagnie de Jésus: Avent Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, IX E/3 35 (Paris, 1759)] Sermons pour le Carême Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 4/X/i (Ger., Augsburg, 1767, 3 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Au am Inn [BSB, Hom.236-1 (Paris, 1749)] Buffier, Claude, Cours de sciences sur des principes nouveaux et simples pour former le langage, l’esprit et le coeur, dans l’usage ordinaire de la vie Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1732)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, G II 3 fol. (Paris, 1732)] Examen des préjugés vulgaires Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 523 (Paris, 1750)] Exposition des preuves les plus sensibles de la véritable religion Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II E/2 17 (Ger., Vienna, 1751); IX D/3 36 (Ger., Linz, n.d.)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1756 [BSB, (Ger., Vienna, 1752)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Be.176 (Ger., Vienna, 1752)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Ger., Vienna, 1752)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, J II 51 (Paris, 1761)] Les principes du raisonement exposez en deux logiques nouvéles Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 680a (Paris, 1714)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, J V 51 (Paris, 1714)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 520 (Paris, 1714)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.sp.118m (Paris, 1714)] Traité des premières véritez, et de la source de nos jugemens Polling Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3478 (Paris, 1724)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 520 (Paris, 1724)] Traité de la société civile, et du moyen de se rendre heureux, en contribuant au bonheur des personnes avec qui l’on vit Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 681 (Paris, 1726)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, J IV 51 (Paris, 1726)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.pr.174 (Paris, 1726)] La vie du comte Louis de Sales, frère de S. François de Sales: Modèle de piété dans l’état séculier comme S. François de Sales l’a été dans l’état Ecclesiastique Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, V XI 51 (Paris, 1708)] Caraccioli, Louis-Antoine, Les caractères de l’amitié Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg, 1772)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Paris, 1767)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II H/3 46 (Frankfurt, 1760); XVI D/3 59 (Paris, 1767); II E/2 29

328 The Spiritual Rococo

(Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.130 (Frankfurt, 1761); 8.Fs.524/9 (Ger., Augsburg, 1772)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/289.589 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Frankfurt, 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 F 125 (Frankfurt, 1760); 12 H 198 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, FF mitte III 28 (Frankfurt and Liege, 1762); FF mitte III 20 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 4927 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767); Phil 578 (Ger., Augsburg, 1772)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.pr. 198 (Frankfurt, 1761)] Le chrétien de temps, confondu par les premiers chrétiens Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1769)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Paris, 1767)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/1 55, XVI F/2 34 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768, 2 cop.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.524/5 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/320.52.Beibd.1 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Metten Abbey [BSB, Asc.952 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Au am Inn Abbey 1778 [BSB, Asc.952b (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1769)] La conversation avec soi-même Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1769)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Liege, 1765)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/2 33 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 1/III/a-a (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.136 (Liege, 1763); 8.Fs.524/6 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Liege, 1759)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, FF mitte III 26 (Liege and Brussels, 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 H 202 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 575 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768); (Ger., Augsburg, 1769)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.pr. 200 (Liege, 1761)] Le cri de la vérité contre la séduction du siècle Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Paris, 1763)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Polling Abbey, 1779–82 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 447 (Ger.)]; Beuerberg Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1504 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Polling Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3478 (Ger., Augsburg, n.d.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/2 43, XVI F/2 27 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766, 2 cop.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 7/V/C/g (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.524/5 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767; 8.Fs.526 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/281.97 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 5980 (Liege, 1765); 35 D 254 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767); 35 E 10 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, FF mitte VI 1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg,

Appendix A 329

1802/03 [SSA, Th S 227 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773); Th S 2021 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766); Th S 1760 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)] De l’esprit Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Paris, 1739)] De la gaieté Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Frankfurt, 1762)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1768)]; Prüfening Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3583 (Ger., 1770)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/2 31 (Ger., Ulm, 1767); I D/3 22 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1768)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.135 (Frankfurt & Liege, 1762); 8.Fs.524/6 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1768)]; 8.Fs.527 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1768)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/057.89 (Ulm, Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1767)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Frankfurt, 1762)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, K 6232 (Frankfurt, 1762); 12 H 199 (Ger., Ulm, 1767); K 3895 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1768)]; Augustinian Monastery, Munich 1790 [BSB, Ph.pr. 201b (Ger., Frankfurt, 1768)] La grandeur de l’âme Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1768); (Ger., Augsburg, 1773)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Frankfurt, 1761)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1767)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I F/2 07, XVI F/2 32 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1767, 2 cop.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 8/XI/A/d (Brussels, 1761)]; 2/IV/C/I (Ger., Augsburg, 1762); 3/XV/b-b (Ger., Augsburg, 1762)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-F-VII-98/1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.131 (Frankfurt, 1761); 8.Fs.524/6 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1767)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/MB.565 (Ger., Leipzig, 1762); M/RB.715 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1767)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Frankfurt, 1761, 2 cop.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 725 (Frankfurt, 1761)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 19753 (Lyon, 1762); FF mitte III 18 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1767); Magazin 187722.2 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1767); Magazin 18722.1 (Frankfurt, 1767)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 661 (Frankfurt, 1762); 12 H 199 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 578 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1768); Phil 4927 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1767); Phil 580 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773)]; The Elector Palatine (before 1807) [BSB, Ph.pr. 205 (Frankfurt, 1762)] La jouissance de soi-même Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Frankfurt, 1761)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VIII F/2 58 (Amsterdam, 1759); II 1/3 49 (Frankfurt, 1759); II E/2 28 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769)]; XVI F/2 30 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz

330 The Spiritual Rococo

Abbey [BZH, 2/I/E/a (Ger., Frankfurt, 1759)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-I-264 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.525 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1759); 8.Fs.132 (Liege, 1761)]; 8.Fs.524/7 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/329.52 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Frankfurt, 1789)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, FF mitte III 16 (Ger., Frankfurt & Leipzig, 1759)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 H 164 (Frankfurt, 1759); 36 D 16 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1759); 12 H 202 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 578 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769); Phil 574 (Amsterdam, 1759)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.pr 207 (Frankfurt, 1761); Ph.pr. 208c (Frankfurt, 1789)] Le langage de la raison Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766); (Ger., Leipzig, 1768)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/1 43, XVI F/2 42, XVI F/2 25 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766, 3 cop.); XVI F/2 29 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767); XVI E/3 26 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, FF mitte III 27.2 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766); Magazin 243322.1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.130 (Liege, 1764); 8.Fs.524/4 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766); 8.Fs.524/4 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768); 8.Fs.527 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/RB.716 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 5260 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767); Th Pr 443 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768); Phil 576 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)] Le langage de la religion Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Beuerberg Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1504 (Ger., Augsburg, 1765)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/2 25, XVI F/1 43, XV H/3 13 (Ger., Augsburg, 1765, 3 cop.); SVI F/1 43, XVI F/2 42 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766, 2 vol.); II E/ 33 (Liege, 1768)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/b-b (Ger., Augsburg, 1765)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-F-VI-118/1–2 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768, 2 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, FF mitte VI 9 (Liege, 1763); FF mitte III 27.1 (Augsburg, 1765)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.137 (Paris, 1765)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/RB.76.Beibd.1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1765)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 658 (Liege, 1763); 31 K 54 (Ger., Augsburg, 1765); 36 D 16 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1759)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 576 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768); Th S 227 (Ger., Augsburg, 1780)] Lettres récréatives et morales sur les mœurs du temps Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Paris, 1767)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger.)]; Prüfening Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3583 (Ger., Augsburg, 1769, 2 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI F/2 35–38, F/1 40, XIII A/1 24 (Ger., Augsburg,

Appendix A 331

1769, 3 vol., 2 sets)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 823 (4 vol., Paris, 1767– 68)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.524/1–2 (4 vol., Ger., Augsburg, 1769); 8.Fs.138/1–2 (4 vol., Paris, 1768)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/MB.642.1–4 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1769, 4 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, LL rechts VIII 1, 2 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1769)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011290268 (Ger., Augsburg n.d., 2 vol.)] Le livre à la mode Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Hk 15 (Ger., Grünfeld, 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 9 F 242 (Paris, 1759); 65 F 190 (Paris, 1759); 65 F 191 (Paris, 1759)Le livre de quatre couleurs Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 724c (Paris, 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 7172 (Paris, 1760)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, H 180 (Paris, 1760)] Œuvres complètes Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II (9 vol.)]. La religion de l’honnête homme Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg, 1775)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Paris, 1766)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VII E/2 46 (Paris, 1766); XVI F/2 28 (Ger., Nuremberg, 1766)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-B-VI-89 (Ger., Nuremberg, 1766)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.524/4 (Ger., Nuremberg, 1766)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 660 (Paris, 1766)] Le tableau de la mort Franciscan Monastery of Neunburg vorm Wald, 1745 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 359 (Ger., Augsburg)]; Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Paris, 1766)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (Ger., Königsberg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI C/3 53 (Frankfurt, 1761); XV E/3 07 (Ger., Augsburg, 1762); XVI F/2 24 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1768)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/III/A/e-a (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-I-255 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.133 (Frankfurt, 1761); 8.Fs.524/10 (Ger., Augsburg, 1777)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/B.688 (Ger., Augsburg, 1762)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Frankfurt 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 7511 (Frankfurt, 1760)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 577 (Ger., Augsburg, 1786)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.pr. 208 bf (Liege, 1961)] L’Univers énigmatique Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg, 1776)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Frankfurt, 1760)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, I D/3 44, XVI F/2 43, XVI F/2 26, XV H/3 13 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766, 4 cop.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.135 (Ger., Frankfurt, 1762); 8.Fs.524/5 (Ger., Augsburg, 1768); 8.Fs.526 (Ger., Augsburg,

332 The Spiritual Rococo

1768)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Frankfurt, 1762)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 Y 655 (Avignon, 1759); 65 E 662 (Frankfurt, 1762); 35 D 213 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Polem. 479 (Frankfurt, 1761)] Le véritable mentor, ou l’éducation de la noblesse Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1767)]; Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (Liege, 1759)]; Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Liege, 1761)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VIII C/3 54 (Brussels, 1759); I D/3 44, XVI F/2 26 (Ger., Augsburg & Leipzig, 1766, 2 cop.); I G/3 05 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766); I E/3 06 (Breslau, n.d.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-F-IV-97 (Liege, 1759); K-FVIII-84/1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.134 (Liege, 1761); 8.Fs.524/10 (Ger., Augsburg, 1784)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Liege, 1759)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 K 414 (Liege, 1759); 65 E 663 (Liege, 1761); 12 H 201 (Ger., Augsburg, 1766); 12 H 27 (Ger., Augsburg, 1767)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin, 24332.2 (Augsburg, 1766)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Gs 1517 (Augsburg, 1767); Bild 441 (Liege, 1759)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Paed.th. 764 (Liege, 1761)]; Elector of Palatine (before 1807) [BSB, Paed.th. 765 (Liege, 1761)] Claville, Charles-François-Nicolas Le Maître de, Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.pr. 290 c-1 (The Hague, 1738, 2 vol.)]; the Electors of Bavaria [BSB, Ph.pr. 291-1/2 (Paris, 1742)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VIII G/2 57 (Amsterdam, 1738, 2 vol.); XVI D/3 11 (Amsterdam, 1742, 2 vol.); XV H/3 22 (Amsterdam, 1742, 2 vol.); VIII F/2 40 (Amsterdam, 1742, 2 vol.); III D/3 06–07 (Frankfurt, 1755, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VII/B/g (Frankfurt, 1755); 2/III/E/e-a (It., Venice, 1757)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (The Hague, 1738); (Paris & Lyon, 1742)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2167 (Ger., Leipzig and Stralsund, 1750); M. Lm 2166 (The Hague, 1742, 2 vol.); Lm 2165 (2 vol., Frankfurt, 1742); M. Lm 2164 (The Hague), 1738, 2 vol.); M. Lm 2163 (Paris, 1734)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 H 35 8 (2 vol., Paris, 1737); 65 E 834 (2 vol., Amsterdam, 1738); L X 17 (Frankfurt, 1755); 12 H 213 (Frankfurt 1742)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 2229/2229–2 (Amsterdam, n.d., 2 vol.); Phil 5509 (Ger., Leipzig, 1750)]; Karl Maria Ehrenbert Freiherr von Moll (1760–1838) [BSB, Ph.pr. 290–1 (Paris, 1737)] Croiset, Jean, Année chrétienne, ou vies des Saints et exercices de piété pour les Dimanches, les fêtes mobiles et tous les jours de l’année Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Lyon, 1721, 5 vol., 3 cop.)]; Jesuit College, Burghausen [BSB, Cbm Cat. 302 (Ger., 12 vol.)]; Kaisheim Abbey [BSB, Cbm Cat. 425 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1723)]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim,

Appendix A 333

1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger., 10 vol.)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger., 12 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger., 5 vol.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1725, 5 vol.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II (Paris, 1695, 12 vol.)]; Ettal Abbey, 1803 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 691 (Ger., Munich, 1725, 5 vol.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1534 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1725, 5 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI C/3 35–36, XI B/3 17– 18, VIII E/2 57 (Ger., Ingolstadt & Augsburg, 1749, 5 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 4/XIII/f-b (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1749); 2/VI/C/h (Lyon, 1764–65, 5 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 544 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1729, 8 vol.); (Ger., Munich, 1729); (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1732, 12 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-III-48–52 (Lyon, 1764–65, 5 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1737 [BSB, 2 Asc. 28-1-5 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1733–34, 5 vol.)]; Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, Asc.1261a-1-5 (The Hague, 1734, 5 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.338/1–5 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1725, 5 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/005.214/1,1–5,2; M/L12.Asc.170/1,1–5,2 (Ger., Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1725, 5 vol., 2 cop.); M/287.30/1 (Ger., Ingolstadt & Augsburg, 1749, 4 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Lyon, 1721, 5 vol.); (Lyon, 1738, 12 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV008732076 (Ger., Augsburg, n.d.)] Les bons sentimens que la retraite inspire Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1725)] La dévotion au Sacré-Cœur de Notre-Seigneur Jésus-Christ Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger., 2 cop.)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, IX B/2 20, 23; E/3 52 (Lyon, 1741, 2 vol.); (Strasbourg, 1746)]; Jesuit College, Munich [BSB, Asc.1259m (Lyon, 1691); Asc.1259o (Lyon, 1696)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/074.455 (Lyon, 1696)]Exercices de piété pour tous les jours de l’année Karl Theodor Kurfürst von Pfalzbayern [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208b (5 vol.)]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Lyon, 1712, 12 vol.)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676 (Ger., 12 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Burghausen [BSB, Cbm Cat. 302 (Ger., 23 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger., 24 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger., 11 vol.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1732, 12 vol.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 I, II (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1724, 12 vol.); (Lyon, 1745, 6 vol.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1534 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1732–33, 12 vol.); (Ger., Munich, 1725, 5 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XI B/3 13–16 (Ger., Ingolstadt & Augsburg, 1750, 4 vol. only); Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/D/c-a (Lyon, 1714, 4 vol. only); 4/XIII/ a/a (Ger., Munich, 1723, 1 vol. only)]; 1/VI/a, 3/I/e (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1724, 2 vol. only); 8/37/E/e (Ger., Bamberg, 1779, 12 vol.)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 544 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1732, 12 vol.)]; StPölten Abbey [DASP, K-Y-III-6 (Lyon, 1719, vol. 9 only); K-U-III-53–63 (Lyon, 1759–63, 12 vol.)]; Sister Emanuela Theresia vom Herzen Jesu, Clarissan

334 The Spiritual Rococo

Convent, Munich (before 1750) [BSB, Asc.1285 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1735)]; Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, Asc.1261-11 (The Hague, 1733)]; Jesuit College, Munich [BSB, Asc.1260-1,23 1,24 (The Hague, 1725, 2 vol.); Asc.1265-1 (Lyon, 1729); Asc.1262-1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1739)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 3289 (Ger., Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1733); Magazin BiA 160.1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1788)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.339/1–11 (Lyon, 1714, 11 vol.); 8.Bh.338/1–5 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1725, 5 vol.); 8.Bh.339/1–12 (Lyon, 1728, 12 vol.); 2.Bh 13/1–2 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1733, 2 vol.); 2.Bh.19 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1734)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/Wy.195.3,1-12,1; M/220.64/9 (Ger., Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1723–25); M/039.69/1–2 (Ger., Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1733, 2 vol.); M/39.69a (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1734)]; M/249.228/4 (Ger., Ingolstadt & Augsburg, 1750); M/336.25/12 (Ger., Bamberg & Würzburg, 1779, 12 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger.)]; Abensberg Abbey, 1793 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 333 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1730)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.341 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1730)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/L12. Asc.164.Beibd.1 (Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1730)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV008784928 (Ger., Ingolstadt & Augsburg, n.d.); BV036805829 (Ger., Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1734); Th A 734 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1725); Th A 736 (Ger., Ingolstadt, The Hague, 1723–25)] Heures ou prières chrétiennes Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI C/2 44 (Brussels, 1730)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bi.1124 (Brussels, 1730)] Des illusions du coeur Karl Theodor Kurfürst von Pfalzbayern [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208b (Lyon, 1736)]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Lyon, 1736)] Moyens de conserver les bons sentimens Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Parallèle des mœurs de ce siècle et de la morale de Jésus-Christ Karl Theodor Kurfürst von Pfalzbayern [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208b (5 vol.)]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Lyon, 1727)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger., 2 vol.); (2 vol.)]; Ansbach Abbey, 1803 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 393 (Ger., Munich, 1729)]; Jesuit Residence, Altötting, 1748 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 309 (Ger.)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, ca. 1740 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 405 II (Ger., Munich, 1729)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 I (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1729)]; Benediktbeuern Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 1534 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1729, 2 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VII E/2 52 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1738, 2 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-V-VI-41–2 (Paris, 1727, 2 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Gars am Inn [BSB, Asc.1273 m-1,2 (Lyon, 1735, 2 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Munich [BSB, Asc1275–1,2 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1729, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.340 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1729)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/004.159 (Ingolstadt & The Hague, 1729); Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV035017255 (Ger., Ingolstadt, n.d.);

Appendix A 335

BV035017298 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1729); BV011372820 (Ger., Ingolstadt, The Hague, 1729)]; M/121.198/1–2 (Lyon, 1743, 2 vol.)] Réflexions chrétiennes sur divers sujets de morale Seeon Abbey, 1780 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 503 (Paris, 1718)]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1712)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676 (2 vol.)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II (Paris, 1732, 2 vol.)]; Ettal Abbey, 1803 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 691 (Liege, 1708)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV H/2 17–18 (It., Venice, 1716, 2 vol.); XV E/2 31–32 (Paris, 1751, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VII/D/g (Paris, 1752)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-B-VI-58,108 (Paris, 1712, 2 vol.); K-BVI-104 1–2 (Paris, 1752, 2 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Munich [BSB, Asc.1262-1-2 (Ger., Augsburg, 1739, 2 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/L12.Asc.221/1-2 (Ger., Augsburg, 1739, 2 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011372825 (Ger., Augsburg, 1739)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 936 (2 vol., Paris, 1716)] Retraite sprituelle pour un jour chaque mois Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Paris, 1713)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger., 2 vol.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI B/1 14 (Ger., Ingolstadt, 1734)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV H/2 19–20 (It., Venice, 1716, 2 vol.); VI C/3 37 (Ger., Cologne and Frankfurt, 1735)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VI/D/e, 2/IV/F/d-a, 2/VI/D/e, 2/VII/D/g (Paris, 1743–52, 5 vol.)]; StPölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-III-4, K-U-I-10 (Lyon, 1725, 2 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Munich [BSB, Asc.1281-1-2 (Paris, 1712, 2 vol.); Asc.1284 c-1 (Lyon, 1725)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin BiA 173 (Lyon, 1725, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.1391 (Ger., Linz, 1708); 8.Bh.343 (Ger., Cologne, 1723); 8.Bh.342 (Ger., Augsburg, 1738)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/L12.Asc.164 (Ger., Cologne, 1723)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV035018613 (Ger., Ingolstadt, n.d., 6 vol.)] Dinouart, Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint, Abregé de l’embryologie sacrée, ou traité des devoirs des prêtres, des médecins, des chirurgiens & des Sages-Femmes envers les enfans qui sont dans le sein de leurs mères. Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1766)] L’Éloquence du corps dans le ministère de la chaire, ou l’action du prédicateur Electors of Bavaria [BSB, Hom. 368 (Paris, 1761)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV I/3 49 (Paris, 1761)]; Bavarian Court Theologian Franz Xavier Nepomuk Scherer, SJ, second third eighteenth century [BSB, Hom.368 (Paris, 1761)] Instruction pastorale Electors of Bavaria [BSB, J.can.p.833-168/178 (Lyon, 1791)] Manuel des pasteurs Electors of Bavaria [BSB, Past. 92 (Lyon, 1764)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XIV A/3 21–22 (Ger., Vienna, 1790)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bk.84/1–3

336 The Spiritual Rococo

(Lyon, 1768, 3 vol.)]; Friesing Cathedral Library [DBF, M/251.123/1 (Lyon, 1768)] La rhétorique du prédicateur Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom. 1631 (Paris, 1750)] Santoliana: Ouvrage qui contient la vie de Santeul ses bons mots, son demele avec les Jésuites, ses lettres, ses inscriptions Franz Töpsl (1711–1796) Provost of Stift Polling [BSB, Biogr. 1037 (Paris, 1764)] Traité de l’autorité ecclésiastique et de la puissance temporelle Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bu.246/1–2 (Paris, 1768, 2 vol.)] Fénelon, François de Salignac de la Mothe (spiritual works only), Démonstration de l’existence de Dieu Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI F/3 30 (Ger., Jena, 1769)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.H.1261/1–2 (Paris, 1731, 2 vol.); 8.Fs.532 (Ger., Leipzig, 1782, 4 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/177.354. Beibd.1 (Amsterdam, 1713); M/058.179/1–2 (Amsterdam, 1731, 2 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Amsterdam, 1713, 3 cop.)]; (Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 K 27 (Amsterdam, 1715); G IX 12 (Amsterdam, 1732)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Te 389 (Ger., Jena, 1748); M. Lm 1393 (Amsterdam, 1731); M. Nc 256 (Amsterdam, 1715); M. Nc 255 (Amsterdam, 1713)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 K 591 (Amsterdam, 1731, 2 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 1014 (1721); BV011692171 (1761); S 439 (Paris, 1738)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.sp.273 af (Paris, 1713)] Dialogues sur l’éloquence Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676 (Ger.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-E-VII-30 (Paris, 1753)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1718, 2 cop.); (Amsterdam, 1730, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Um 98 (Amsterdam, 1718)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, L.eleg.g 150 (Paris, 1740)] Dialogues des grands hommes aux champs elisées, appliquez aux mœurs de ce siècle Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1730, 2 cop.)] Directions pour la conscience d’un roi Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (The Hague, 1747)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-I-57 (Paris, 1775)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Fs.532 (Ger., Leipzig, 1782)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Le Haye, 1747)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 K 347 (The Hague, 1747)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 1399 (The Hague, 1747); Mor.365 (The Hague, 1747)] De l’éducation des filles Fransiscan Monastery, Straubing, 1786 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 375 (Amsterdam, 1708)]; Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Amsterdam, 1733)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI D/3 63 (Amsterdam & Leipzig, 1754); I E/3 05 (Paris & Liege, 1788)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.H.1199a (Ger.,

Appendix A 337

Lübeck, 1740); 18.Fs.158 (Paris, 1763)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Geneva, 1700); (Amsterdam, 1739)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Pb 403 (2) (Amsterdam, 1708); M. Lm 1401 (Amsterdam, 1702); M. Lm 1392 (Amsterdam, 1721)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 F 381 (Brussels, 1705); 12 L 125 (Amsterdam, 1708); 65 E 6584 (Frankfurt, 1760)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Bild 2938 (Ger., 1708)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Paed.th. 1344 (Paris, 1763)] Essai sur le gouvernement civil Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (London, 1721)] Explication des maximes des saints sur la vie intérieure Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546 (Brussels, 1698)]; Jesuit Novitiate, Ebersburg, 1758 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 304]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/074.442 (Paris, 1697)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1697, 2 cop.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 1402 (Brussels, 1698); M. Lm 1403 (Amsterdam, 1698)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 36 E 179 (Amsterdam, 1698); 65 F 382 (Brussels, 1698); 65 E 7083 (Ger., Wesel, 1699)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Asc.1850 (Paris, 1697)] Instructions pastorales Polling Abbey, 1779–82 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 447]; University Library Helmstedt [HAB, H. J 787.8o. Helmst. (Frankfurt, 1698)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 845 (Cambray, 1714)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-V-II-84 (Amsterdam, 1698)] Lettres sur divers sujets concernant la religion et la metaphysique Imperial Library, Vienna [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1758)] Nouveaux dialogues des morts Mainz Cathedral, 1790 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 537 (The Hague, 1760)]; Leopold Ernst Graf von Firmian, Archbishop of Passau, 1776 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 543]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/II/l (Ger., Frankfurt, 1755)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, P.o.gall.813 (Amsterdam, 1715); P.o.gall.617-2 (Paris, 1753)] Œuvres philosophiques St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-F-IV-99 (Paris, 1739)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.sp.272 (Paris, 1726)] Œuvres spirituelles Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Antwerp, 1718, 2 vol.)]; Prüfening Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3583 (Frankfurt, 1767)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/II/A/d (Paris, 1767, 4 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 18.Fs.156/1–4 (Paris, 1767, 4 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (1740, 5 vol.); (Paris, 1778, 9 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 38 E8 (Antwerp, 1718, 2 vol.); 65 E 411 (Amsterdam, 1723, 5 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-U-III-42, 86–88 (Paris, 1752, 4 vol.)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Asc.1855

338 The Spiritual Rococo

(Brussels, 1721)]; Josef Franz Anton, Prince Bishop of Passau (before 1795) [BSB, Asc.1856–5 (Amsterdam, 1723, vol. 5); Asc.1856-1-4 (Amsterdam, 1731, vol. 1–4)] Pensées morales Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 4/V/m-b (Ger., Vienna, 1788)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bf.570 (Ger., Vienna, 1788); 8.Fs.536 (Ger., Augsburg, 1792)] Réflexions sur la grammaire, la rhétorique Theatine Monastery, Munich, 1758–64 [BSB, L.eleg.g. 153 (Amsterdam, 1717)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, L.eleg.g. 152 (Paris, 1716)] Réflexions sur la rhétorique et sur la poétique Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 1405 (Amsterdam, 1717)] Sentimens de piété Jesuit Novitiate, Landsberg, 1755 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 306 II (Paris, 1713)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 6324 (Nancy, 1720)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Asc.1857 (Paris, 1737)] Sermons choisis Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/012.49 (Paris, 1757)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 1407 (Paris, 1727); M. Lm 1406 (Paris, 1718)] De la véritable et solide piété Cardinal Joseph Franz Anton von Auersperg, Archbishop of Passau, 1791 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 546]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th S 499 (French, Augsburg, 1752)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 46 G 848 (Prague, 1752)] Griffet, Henri. L’Année du chrétien [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1747, 15 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1204, 65 E 1203 (Paris, 1704–11, 12 vol.); (Paris, 1720–24, 12 vol.)] Exercice de piété pour la communion [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1748); (Mannheim, 1758); (Paris, 1766); (Ger., Vienna, 1772)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR 65 E 5575 (Paris, 1766)] L’Insuffisance de la religion naturelle Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 4/V/m-b (Liege, 1770, 2 vol.)]; [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Liege, 1771)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR 65 E 5766 (Liege, 1770)]; Lobkovicz Library, Prague [NKCR 65 E 623 (Liege, 1771, 2 vol.)] Sermons pour l’Avent, le Carême et les principales fêtes de l’année Elector Max III Joseph, 1767 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 208a (Liege, 1766, 4 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 I (Ger.)]; Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (4 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/II/C/I (Ger., Augsburg, 1770, 4 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, KAV 134–37 (Ger., Augsburg, 1770, 4 vol.)]; Cathedral Library, Freising [BSB, M/13 30/1 (Ger., Augsburg, 1770, 4 vol.)]; [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1766)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 21882.1–4 (Ger., Augsburg, 1770, 4 vol.)]; Staatsund Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 1030 1–4 (Ger., Augsburg, 1770, 4 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR 34 F 392 (Ger., Augsburg, 1770, 4 vol.)]

Appendix A 339

Traité des différentes sortes de preuves qui servent à établir la vérité historique Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, S 576 (Liege, 1769); Gx 12.138 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, IX C/2 27 (Ger., Augsburg, 1773)] Lambert, Anne-Thérèse de Marguenat de Courcelles, marquise de, Lettres d’une mère à son fils et à sa fille Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1729); (Lausanne, 1748); (Ger., Leipzig, 1750)] Lamourette, Antoine-Adrien, Les délices de la religion, ou le pouvoir de l’Évangile pour nous rendre heureux St Pöllten Abbey [DASP, K-U-II-79 (Paris, 1788)] Instruction Pastorale The Elector Palatine [BSB, J.can.p.833-168-78 (Lyon, 1791)] Lévesque de Pouilly, Louis-Jean, Théorie des sentimens agréables Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2273k (Paris, 1774); M. Vb 473 (Ger., Berlin, 1751); M. Lm 2273h (London, 1750); Lm 2273f (Paris, 1749); Lm 2273d (Geneva, 1747)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 Y 254 (Geneva, 1747); L 1265 (London, 1750)] Malebranche, Nicholas, Conversations chrétiennes Imperial Library, Vienna [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Rotterdam, 1685)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, d IX 19 (Amiens, 1678); 65 E 5741 (Paris, 1702)] Entretiens sur la métaphysique et sur la religion Imperial Library, Vienna [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Rotterdam, 1688); (Paris, 1732, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2346 (Rotterdam, 1688)] Lettres du père Malebranche à un de ses amis, dans lesquelles il répond aux réflections philosophiques & théologiques de Mr. Arnauld sur le traité de la nature & de la grace Imperial Library, Vienna [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Rotterdam, 1685); (Amsterdam, 1686); (Rotterdam, 1687, 2 cop.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 12 F 13 (Rotterdam, 1684); 12 F 13 (Rotterdam, 1684); D VIII 21 (Rotterdam, 1684); 3 L 46 (Rotterdam, 1685); D VIII 22 (Rotterdam, 1685); D IX 87 (Rotterdam, 1685) 12 J 32 (Rotterdam, 1686)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm Sammelbd 45 (1–3) (Rotterdam, 1685–7, 3 vol.); M. Lm 2347 (Rotterdam, 1697)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Phil 2045 (Rotterdam, 1686)] Méditations chrétiennes et métaphysiques Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Asc.2992 (Lyon, 1707)] De la recherche de la vérité Kaisheim Abbey [BSB, Cbm Cat. 425 (Lat., Geneva, 1753)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Lat., 1753, 2 vol.)]; Polling Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 3478 (Lat., Geneva, 1690); (Lat., Geneva, 1753)];

340 The Spiritual Rococo

Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, C-28/8–14, IX A/2 24–5 (Paris, 1678, 3 vol.); IX A/2 26 (Paris, 1700, 3 vol.); VI D/3 04 (Rotterdam, 1703); VI F/1 18–19 (Lat., Geneva, 1753, 2 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 1/XVIII/k (Paris, 1721, 3 vol.)]; StPölten Abbey [DASP, K-F-V-137–40 (Paris, 1749, 4 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 4.H.150 (Lat., Geneva, 1753)]; Freising Cathedral [BSB, Ph.sp. 530 e-1, y-1-2 (Paris, 1677–78, 4 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Lat., Geneva, 1685); (Paris, 1700, 3 vol.); (Paris, 1712); (Paris, 1721, 4 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, D II 70 (Paris, 1678); 12 K 9 (Geneva, 1685); 75 B 718 (Lat., Geneva, 1691); 12 K 564 (Paris, 1749); G VII 17 (Paris, 1749)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2352 (Ger., Halle, 1776); M. Lm 2351 (Paris, 1749); M. Ma 161 (2) (Lat., Geneva, 1691); M. Lm 2350 (Amsterdam, 1688, 2 vol.); M. Lm 2349 (3 vol., Paris, 1677–78)]; University Library Helmstedt [HAB, H. O 66.4o Helmst. (Paris, 1678)]; Staatsund Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV012649364 (Amsterdam, 1688)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Ph.sp.528-1-4 (Paris, 1675, 4 vol.); Ph.sp.528–3 (Paris, 1678); 4 Ph.sp. 116-1-2, 3–4 (Paris, 1712, 4 vol.); Ph.sp. 530-1-4 (Paris, 1749, 4 vol.)] Recueils des pièces fugitives Polling Abbey, 1779–82 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 447] Réflexions sur la promotion physique Imperial Library, Vienna [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1715)] Traité de la grâce générale Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, II H/3 36–37 (Paris, 1715, 2 vol.)] Traité de la morale Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XIII E/3 15, XIII D/3 28 (Lyon, 1707, 2 vol.)] Traité de la nature et de la grâce Polling Abbey [BSB, Cbm Cat. 447]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-B-IV-86 (Rotterdam, 1712)]; Franciscan Canons, Polling 1744 [BSB, Dogm.1030 (Amsterdam, 1682)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2353 (Amsterdam, 1680–81)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, L 1560 (Amsterdam, 1680); 31 L 127 (Rotterdam, 1684); C IX 2 (Rotterdam, 1684)] Massillon, Jean-Baptiste, Discours synodaux sur les principaux devoirs des ecclésiastiques Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 II (Ger., 1757)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI H/1 50–51, XV A/10 (Ger., Prague, 1758, 2 vol., 2 sets)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/f-a (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bk 19/2 (Paris, 1770, 2 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-VI-46 (Paris, 1748); K-A-VI-37, 42 (Paris, 1761, 2 vol.)] Mystères Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/1V/f-a (Paris, 1776)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.317/1 (Paris, 1770)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.966-3 (Paris, 1749)] Œuvres Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/J/i (Ger., Prague, 1755–58, 15 vol.)]

Appendix A 341

Oraisons funèbres et professions religieux Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/f-z (Paris, 1763)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.317/19 (Paris, 1770)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.966-4 (Paris, 1749)] Panégyriques Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/f-a (Paris, 1776)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.317/8 (Paris, 1770)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 1686 (Paris, 1770)] Pensées sur divers sujets du morale et de piété Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/f-a (Paris, 1768)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-VI-33 (Paris, 1758)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.1305 (Paris, 1770)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2445 (Paris, 1762); M. Lm 2444 (Paris, 1749]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 569 (Paris, 1770)] Sentimens d’une âme touchée de Dieu Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/f-a (Paris, 1775)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-VI-38 (Paris, 1758)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bh.1304 (Paris, 1770)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2453 (Paris, 1762); M. Lm 2452 (Paris, 1754)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 572 (Paris, 1770)] Sermons Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger., 14 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 II (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XVI H 1 40– 54, XV A/1 06–11 (Ger., Dresden & Prague, 1753–59, 15 vol., 1 full, 1 partial set); I H/1 22 (Lat., Esztergom, 1764, 2 vol.); IX F/3 27 (Paris, 1776)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-VI-36–45 (Paris, 1759, 9 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.318/11 (Ger., Dresden, 1757); 8.Bm.317/1–9 (Paris, 1770, 9 vol.)]; Augustinian Monastery, Au am Inn [BSB, Hom.934-1-4 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1788, 4 vol.)]; [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1763–64, 16 vol.); (Lat., 1764, 4 vol.); (Innsbruck, 1755, 13 vol.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin BiA 148.1–15 (Ger., Prague, 1753–63, 15 vol.); Magazin 24663.1–2 (Ger., Mindelheim, 1772, 1787–88, 2 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2449 (7 vol., Paris, 1759–63); M. Lm 2447 (9 vol., Paris, 1749)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 34 D 206 (Ger., Prague, 1753–59, 15 vol.); 65 E 654 (Paris, 1769, 4 vol.); 65 E 567 (Paris, 1770, 3 vol.); 34 G 117 (Paris, 1751); 65 E 653 (Paris, 1770); 65 E 571 (Paris, 1770, 4 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011654694 (Ger., Dresden, n.d., 5 vol.); BV012683933 (Sp., Madrid, n.d.)] Sermons sur divers sujets de morale avec deux panégyriques St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 400 (Trévoux, 1715), 2 vol.] Sermons sur quelques évangiles de l’Avent, et sur divers sujets de morale Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 3/IV/f-a (Paris, 1782)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.456 (Trévoux, 1710); 8.Bm.317/2 (Paris, 1770)]; Augustinian Canons, Stadt am Hof (Regensburg) [BSB, Hom.1465-1-4 (Trévoux, 1711, 4 vol.)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.966-1 (Paris, 1760)]

342 The Spiritual Rococo

Sermons sur les évangiles du Carême (includes abbreviated version called Petit Carême) Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, VI A/3 46, XIII H/3 28 (Paris, 1754, 2 vol.); XVI H/1 40–43 (Ger., Prague, 1763, 4 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/D/d-a (Ger., Prague, 1753–57, 7 vol.); 3/IV/f-a (Paris, 1769, 5 vol.); (Paris, 1782)]; St Emmeram Abbey, Regensburg 1748 [Kraus, Bibliotheca I, 401 (Trévoux, 1715, 4 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, Rand-I 65 (Ger., Dresden, 1753); K-A-V-124/1-2, 125/1–2 (Ger., Dresden, 1754–63, 4 vol.); K-A-V-126/1–2, 127/1–2, 128/1–2, 129/1–2, 130/1–2, K-A-VIII-117–121 (Ger., Vienna, 1785–87, 15 vol.)]; Franciscan Library, Freising [BSB, Hom.965-1-4 (Brussells, 1709, 4 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.455/1–3 (Trévoux, 1710, 3 vol.); 8.Bm.318/1 (Ger., Dresden, 1753); 8.Bm.318.3 (Ger., Dresden, 1755, 2 vol.); 8.Bm 318/4–5 (Ger., Dresden, 1756–7, 3 vol.); 8.Bm.318/7–8 (Ger., Dresden, 1758–9, 3 vol.); 8.Bm.318 (Ger., Dresden, 1763, 2 vol.); 8.Bm.1296/1–5 (Brussels, 1766, 5 vol.); 8.Bm 317/1–4 (Paris, 1770, 4 vol.)]; Augustinian Canons, Stadt am Hof (Regensburg) [BSB, Hom.1465-1-4 (Trévoux, 1711, 4 vol.)]; Franciscan Monastery, Freising [BSB, Hom.965-2 (Brussels, 1709)]; Jesuit College, Munich 1748 [BSB, Hom.1467-2 (Trévoux, 1708); (1764, 2 vol.); (Brussels, 1700, 3 vol.); ANF F/17*/20, 141b (Paris, 1754)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 2451 (2 vol., Ger., Dresden, 1753); M. Ti 282 (Trévoux, 1723)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 1685 (Ger., Dresden, 1753); BV035018840 (Paris, 1776); BV011654600 (Ger., Prague, n.d.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24376 (Paris, 1770)]; Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Hom.966-2,1–4 (Paris, 1746, 4 vol.); Hom.966-6 (Paris, 1754)] Neuville, Charles Frey de, Oraison funèbre de ... le Cardinal de Fleury Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (The Hague, 1743)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Db 1337 (Amsterdam, 1743)] Sermons Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VI/E/g (Ger., Vienna, 1777–80, 8 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-VI-47–54 (Paris, 1777, 7 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.377/1–5 (Ger., Vienna, 1778, 5 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 10 G 69 (Ger., Leipzig, 1743)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV011748005 (Rouen, n.d.)]; Sankt Gallen Abbey [SGST, Magazin 24656.1–7 (Ger., Vienna, 1777, 7 vol.)] Sermons pour Carême Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV I/1 01-02 (Ger., Vienna, 1778, 4 vol.)] Le Livre de Tobie avec des réflexions morales Jesuit Novitiate, Ebersburg, 1758 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 304] Perrin, Charles-Joseph, Sermons Metten Abbey, 1803 [BHA, KLDvB in Klostersachen Nr. 2582 (7 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/IV/F/b-a (Ger., Augsburg, 1771, 4 vol.)]; Freising

Appendix A 343

Cathedral [DBF, M/239.14/1–3 (Ger., Augsburg, 1775, 3 vol.); M/070.127/1–4 (Ger., Augsburg, 1771, 4 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, A-VI-123-5 (Ger., Augsburg, 1771, 4 vol.)] Segaud, Giullaume de, Homélies sur les évangiles de tous les dimanches de l’année Augustinian Monastery, Seemanshausen, 1781 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 502 (Lat., Bamberg, 1763, 6 vol.)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, (Ger., Augsburg, n.d., 2 vol.)] Sermons Schrobenhausen Abbey, 1788–89 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 370 (Ger., Bamberg, 1763, 6 vol.)]; Carmelite Monastery, Munich, 1777 [BSB, Cod. Lat 8676 (Ger.)]; Jesuit College, Mindelheim, 1772 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 307 (Ger., 3 cop.)]; Attel Abbey, 1796 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 395 (Ger.)]; Jesuit College, Amberg, 1770 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 301 II (Ger.)]; Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XV A/1 21–23, XVI H/1 01–06 (Ger., Würzburg, 1764–67, 12 vol.)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VII/B/h (Paris, 1760, 2 cop.); XV I/3 39–41, XV I/3 51–52 (Paris, 1767, 5 vol.); 2/IV/D/c-a (Ger., Würzburg, 1767, 3 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, A-VII-43/1–2, 44/1–2, 45/1–2 (Ger., Würzburg, 1765–67, 6 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 8.Bm.454/1– 2, 454/5–6, 455/3–4 (Ger., Bamberg, 1765, 6 vol.)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 34 G 151 (Paris, 1751); 65 E 1050 (3 vol., Paris, 1752)]; Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, BV010766658 (Würzburg, n.d., 3 vol.); SSA, Th S 1515 (no location, 1749)] Sermons pour l’Avent The Elector Palatine (before 1807) [BSB, Hom.1421-1 (Paris, 1760)]; Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1051 (Paris, 1752)] Sermons pour Carême Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VII/B/h (Paris, 1760, 3 vol.)]; The Elector Palatine, Munich (before 1807) [BSB, Hom.1429-2, 1–3 (Paris, 1760, 3 vol.)] Sermons: mystères Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1052 (Paris, 1752)]; The Elector Palatine (before 1807) [BSB, Hom.1429-3 (Paris, 1760)] Sermons: panégyriques Klementinum, Prague [NKCR, 65 E 1053 (Paris, 1752)]; Heiligenkreuz Abbey [BZH, 2/VII/B/h (Paris, 1760)]; The Elector Palatine (before 1807) [BSB, Hom.1429-4 (Paris, 1760)] Trublet, Charles-Joseph. Essais sur divers sujets de littérature et de morale Electors of Bavaria [BSB, Opp.414 b-1/4 (Paris, 1754, 4 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1749, 2 vol.); (Paris, 1754, 3 vol.); 74 L 117 (Paris, 1754–60, 4 vol.)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 3563 (8 vol., Amsterdam, 1760); M. Lm 3335 (2 vol., Paris, 1735)] Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire de la vie et des ouvrages de M. de Fontenelle Elector Palatine Karl Theodor (1724–99) [BSB, Biogr.415 (Amsterdam, 1761)]

344 The Spiritual Rococo

Panégyriques des saints, précédés de réflexions sur l’éloquence en général, et sur celle de la chaire en particulier St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-A-VI-176 (Paris, 1755)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1755)] Yves de Paris, L’Agent de Dieu dans le monde Electors Palatine [BSB, 4.Mor.562 (Paris, 1658)] Digestum sapientiae Capuchin Monastery, Munich [BSB, 2.Enc.25 (Lat., Paris, 1648)]; University Library, Helmstedt [HAB, H. O 5.2o Helmst. (Lat., Paris, 1648)] Les morales chrétiennes Herzogenburg Abbey [SBH, XXV B/1 04 (Ger., Prague, 1715, 4 vol.)]; St-Pölten Abbey [DASP, K-V-V-65/1–4 (Ger., Prague, 1715, 4 vol.)]; Kremsmünster Abbey [KSB, 4.Bh.253/1–4 (Ger., Prague, 1715, 4 vol.)]; Freising Cathedral [DBF, M/042.98/1, 3–4 (Paris, 1715, 3 out of 4 vol.); M/042.98/2 (Ger., Prague, 1715); M/039.40/1–4 (Ger., Prague, 1720, 4 vol.)]; Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Ger., Prague, 1715)]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Lm 4o 41 (Ger., Prague, 1715); M. Tg 180 (4 vol., Paris, 1645–48)] De la nécessité Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Tg 181 (Paris, 1653)] Philosophia sacra, sive discursus de incrementis divini amoris, in corde humano Staats- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, 1802/03 [SSA, Th Pr 1318 (Lat., Salzburg, 1678)] Très-humbles remonstrances présentées à la Reine contre les nouvelles doctrines de ce temps Polling Abbey, 1779–82 [BSB, Cbm Cat. 447]; Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel [HAB, M. Gk 2129 (14) (1644)] La théologie naturelle … sur l’immortalité de l’âme des anges et des démons Imperial Library, Vienna, 1780 [ÖNB, Josephinisches Zettelkatalog (Paris, 1640–41)]

Notes 1

The majority of the collections of eighteenth-century spiritual literature in the Staats- und Stadtbibliothek in Augsburg are from monastic libraries secularized in 1803/1804 [Personal communication, Helmut Gier, Chief Librarian, Augsburg, April 24, 2012]. In this instance I have placed the dates 1803/04 after the name of the library as if in an inventory since the represent a terminus ante quem for the acquisition of the book.

2

Johann Baptist Kraus, Bibliotheca Principalis Ecclesiae et Monasterii Ord. S. Benedicti ad S. Emmeramum Epis. Et Martyr. Ratisbonae IV (Regensburg, 1748) [BSB Bavar.384-4].

Appendix B: French Spiritual Literature in Luso-Brazilian Collections

(This list includes the work of Teodoro de Almeida, who was Portuguese but active in Paris.) Almeida, Teodoro de, Cartas Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 152b (Port.)]; Father Manuel Rodrigues da Costa, Mariana, 1791 [ADIM, VI, 439 (Port., 2 vol.)1] Catecismo da doutrina cristã Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 ii, 24b (Port., Lisbon)] Entretenimentos do coração devoto com o Santíssimo Coração de Jesus Joanine Library, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(a)-7-5 (Port., Lisbon, 1790)] Estimulos do amor da V. Maria Mãi de Deos Joanine Library, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(d)-4-27 (Port., Lisbon, 1759)] O feliz independente do mundo ou arte de viver contente em quaesquer trabalhos da vida Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 152b (Port.)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, TR. 3511 P. (Port., Lisbon, 1779); L. 86830-32 P. (Port., Lisbon, 1786, 3 vol.)]2; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (Port., 3 vol.)] Gemidos da Mãi de Deos aflita Joanine Library, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-14-15-11 (Port., Lisbon, 1763); 1-(d)-4-26 (Port., Lisbon, 1779)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 31986 (Sp., Madrid, 1794)] Meditações dos atributos divinos para todo o ano Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-38-2-20/23 (Port., Lisbon, 1796, 4 vol.)] A preciosa: allegoria moral Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 32750 P. (Sp., Madrid, 1791)] Recreação Filosófica Fr. José de Santo António Vilaça, Tibães [Smith, I, 132, 134 (Port., 10 vol.)]3; Augustinian Colégio de Sapiência, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-39-2-1 (Port., Lisbon,

346 The Spiritual Rococo

1778, vol. 1)]; Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 152b (Port.)]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 172a; I-14, 4, 13, 119b (Port., Lisbon, 1758, 6 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 318 5/I-X (Port., Lisbon, 1757–1800, 10 vol.)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, TR. 6831–37 P. (Port., Lisbon, 1758–85, 7 vol.)] Sermões Joanine Library, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-2-28-25/27 (Port., Lisbon, 1787, 3 vol.)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 28332–3 P. (Port., Lisbon, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 199 2/I-III (Port., Lisbon, 1787)]; Jesuit College Vigia (Pará), 1760 [Leite IV, 400 (4 vol.)]4; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC,, 237, n.f. (Port., 3 vol.); (Port., 4 vol.)] Sermão do espírito santo Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 200 27 (Port., Lisbon, 1799)] Tesouro de paciência nas chagas de Jezu-Christo Joanine Library, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(d)-5-28 (Port., Porto, 1765)] Bellegarde, Jean-Baptiste Morvan de, L’Art de connoître les hommes Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 346 22 (Sp., Antwerp, 1743)] Maximes avec des exemples tirés de l’histoire sainte et profane Real Colegio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-A-5–27 (The Hague, 1739–40, 2 vol.)] Modèles de conversations pour les personnes polies Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 346 26 (Paris, 1700); 11 567 4 ; 11 567 1 C.a. (Port., Lisbon, 1739)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, H.G. 15169//9 P.; L.6399//5; S.C. 24931 P.; TR. 5690//9 P.; RES. 2939//10 P.; H.G. 6597//1 V (Port., Lisbon, 1734–5, 3 vol., 5 incomplete cop.); H.G. 4531//10–12 (Port., Lisbon, 1739, 3 vol.)] Œuvres diverses Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 65 (The Hague, 1761, 15 vol.)]5 Réflexions sur le ridicule, et sur les moyens de l’éviter Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 346 21 (Amsterdam, 1712)] Bergier, Nicholas-Sylvestre. Apologie de le religion chrétienne contre l’auteur du Christianisme dévoilé Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCGB, S.P.-N-1-23/24 (Paris, 1770, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 139 7/I-II (Paris, 1770, 2 vol.)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (2 vol.)] La certitude des preuves du christianisme

Appendix B 347

Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-D-2-11 (Paris, 1767, 2 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-2-9-20 (Paris, 1767)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 28 11 (Paris, 1767); 11 139 4 (Paris, 1773); 11 139 9 (Port., Lisbon, 1788)] Le déisme réfuté par lui-même Franciscan Convento de Santo António, Varatojo [BNP, R. 11822 P ; VAR. 3861 (Port., Lisbon, 1787, 2 cop.)†];6 Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 139 6/I-II (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.); 11 139 8 (Port., Lisbon, 1787)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 11822 P.; R. 29569 P. (Port., Lisbon, 1787, 3 cop.)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (2 vol.)] Examen du matérialisme ou réfutation du système de la nature Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-14-10-21/22 (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 139 6/I-II (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (2 vol.)] Œuvres Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (19 vol.)] Traité historique et dogmatique de la vraie religion Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-2-2-1/10 (Paris, 1784–85, 10 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-M-1-2/12 (Paris, 1780, 12 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 139 2/I-XII (Paris, 1780, 12 vol.)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo,7 15 (Paris, 1786–87, 12 vol.)]. Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, Élévations à Dieu sur tous les mystères de la religion chrétienne Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 654 22/ I-II (Port., Coimbra, 1784, 2 vol.)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 21 (Port., Coimbra, 1795, 2 vol.)] Œuvres/Sermons Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 35a; 47-8-16 ii, 23a, 30a (Paris, 9 vol.); (Paris, 18 vol.); (Paris)]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 243a (Paris, 1748); 242b (Amsterdam, 1748); I-14, 4, 13, 124a (Paris n.d.)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-1 A-1/10 (Paris, 1747–49, 12 vol.); J.F.53-2 A-13/15 (Amsterdam, 1753, 3 vol.); 1-1-11-256/263 (Nîmes, 1785–87, 8 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina [UCBG, 1-2-12-221/232 (Paris, 1743–47, 12 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-B-13-10/12 (Amsterdam, 1753, 3 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 134 3/I-II (Paris, 1743–48, 2 vol.); 11 134 6/III-XII (Paris, 1747–49, 10 vol.); 11 134 4/I-II (Paris, 1753, 3 vol.)]; São Bento Monastery, São Paulo [BFSB (Versailles, 1821/23, 28 vol.)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (Lat. 22 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 56 (Liege, 1765, 22 vol.)8]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 20 (Liege, 1766–68, 22 vol.)]

348 The Spiritual Rococo

Oraisons Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 35a (Paris, 9 vol.)] Oraisons funèbres Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 ii, 35a (Paris, 2 vol.)]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 66 (Paris, 1747)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 191 10 (Paris, 1747); 11 173 3 (Rouen, 1780)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, L. 1561 P. (Paris, 1741)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f.]; São Bento Monastery, São Paulo [BFSB, Homiletica 1-C (Paris, 1820, 4 vol.)] Politique tirée des propres paroles de l’Écriture Sainte Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-66-3 A-7 (Paris, 1721, 2 vol.)] Recueil des oraisons funèbres Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 410b (Paris, 1761); 464a (Trevoux, 1715)] Relation sur le quiétisme Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, 55, 2, 22, n 2 (Paris, 1698), stamped]; Biblioteca Joanina [UCBG, 3-(6)-15-16 (Paris, 1697)] Sermons Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, CF E-1-16/23 (Paris, 1772, 9 vol.)]; P. Carlos Correia de Toledo e Melo, Ouro Preto, 1789 [ADIM VI, 350 (9 vol.)] Traité de l’amour de Dieu Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(a)-6-20 (Paris, 1736)] Traité du libre-arbitre et de la concupiscence Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 138 2 (Paris, 1742)] Bourdaloue, Louis, Exhortations et instructions chrétiennes Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 51 (Lyon, 1758, 2 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-12/13 (Lyon, 1770, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 2/I-II (Lyon, 1756, 2 vol.)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 28874 P. (Lyon, 1765)] Pensées sur divers sujets de la religion et de morale Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 193a]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 6/I-III (Sp., Milan, 1737)] Retrait spirituelle à l’usage des communautés religieuses Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 51 (Lyon, 1757, 14 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(b)-2-13 (Lyon, 1744)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-15 (Lyon, 1773)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 3 (Lyon, 1758)]; Domingos Fernandes da Cruz, Minas Gerais, 1789 [ADIM VI, 32 (Port.)]

Appendix B 349

Sermons Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 410a (Paris, 1750)]; Augustinian Colégio de Santa Rita, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-52-51/10 (Sp., Antwerp, 1740, 12 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 7/I-XII (Sp., Antwerp, 1740, 11 vol.); 11 182 5 (Paris, 1762)]; Father Manuel Rodrigues da Costa, Mariana, 1791 [ADIM VI, 439 (15 vol.)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 21 (Liege, 1773, 14 vol.); (Antwerp, 1740, 12 vol.)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... pour l’Avent Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, V-375, 1, 11 (Paris, 1716), stamped]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 50 (Lyon, 1758)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-14 (Lyon, 1771)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 1 (Lyon, 1757)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 56 (Lyon, 1757)]; Jesuit College Vigia (Pará) 1760 [Leite IV 400 (4 vol.)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... pour le Carême Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 92b (Sp., Lyon)]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 50 (Lyon, 1758, 3 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-1/3 (Lyon, 1771–72, 3 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 9/I-III (Lyon, 1756–57, 3 vol.)] Sermons pour les dimanches Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 50 (Lyon, 1758, 4 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-4/7 (Lyon, 1768–69, 4 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 10/I-IV (Lyon, 1756, 3 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 56 (Paris, 1726, 3 vol.); (Paris, 1726); (Sp., Madrid, 1779, vol. 5)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (15 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Rio de Janeiro, 1775 [RIHGB 301 (1973): 241]9 Sermons pour les fêtes des saints Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 50 (Lyon, 1757, 2 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-8/9 (Lyon, 1771–72, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 182 4/I-II (Lyon, 1756, 2 vol.)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... sur les mystères Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, V-375, 1, 12–13 (Paris, 1726), stamped]; Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, V-375, 1, 14–17, stamped]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 51 (Lyon, 1758)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-10/11 (Lyon, 1770, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL,11 182 11/I (Lyon, 1756)] Bretonneau, François, Sermons Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-2-11-8/9 (Paris, 1749)] Sermons pour l’Avent

350 The Spiritual Rococo

Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-N-1-14 (Lyon, 1771)]; Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, V-49, 2, 1 (Paris, 1743), stamped; V-49, 2, 2 (Paris, 1749), stamped] Sermons morales et panégyriques Mariana Episcopal Library, ca. 1780 [Massimi, 57 (Paris, 1749)]; Frei D. Pontenevel Bishop of Mariana, 1793 [Massimi, 63 (Paris, 1749, 5 vol.)] Sermons du père Bretonneau de la Compagnie de Jésus: mystères et fêtes Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, V-48, 1, 15–17 (Paris, 1743)] Buffier, Claude, Cours de sciences sur des principes nouveaux et simples pour former le langage, l’esprit et le coeur, dans l’usage ordinaire de la vie Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 47b] Examen des préjugés vulgaires Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-G-1-39 (Paris, 1704)] Exposition des preuves les plus sensibles de la véritable religion Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-6-16-27 (Paris, 1732)] Géographie universelle Augustinian Convento de Nossa Senhora da Graça, Lisbon [BNP, H.G. 5193 P. (Paris, 1775)†]; Casa de S. João e S. Paulo, Lisbon [BNP, H.G. 251 P. (It., Naples, 178-)†] Pratique de la mémoire artificielle Oratorian Father Joaquim Joze, Lisbon [BNP, H.G. 2466 P. (Paris, 1719) †] Les principes du raisonement exposez en deux logiques nouvéles Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-F-2-24 (Paris, 1714)] Caraccioli, Louis-Antoine, Les caractères de l’amitié Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-17 (Frankfurt, 1766)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 23 (Frankfurt & Liege, 1765)]; São Bento Monastery, São Paulo [BFSB, Pedagogia 1-A (Lisbon, 1813, Port.)] Le chrétien de temps, confondu par les premiers chrétiens Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-1626-8 (Paris, 1769)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-19 (Paris, 1766)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 13 (Paris, 1761)] Le cri de la vérité contre la séduction du siècle Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 31 (Paris, 1765)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-2; J.F.-53-2-20 (Paris, 1765, 2 cop.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 19 (Paris, 1765)] La conversation avec soi-même Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-2-26-30, 4 A-16-26-7 (Paris, 1765, 2 cop.); 4 A-16-26-3 (Liege and Brussels, 1767)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-13 (Frankfurt, 1766); J.F.-53-2-3 (Liege, 1767)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa

Appendix B 351

Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 11 (Brussels, 1767); 11 140 37 (Port., Lisbon, 1789)] Dictionnaire critique, pittoresque et sentencieux Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-2-14-10/12 (Lyon, 1768, 3 vol.)] De la gaieté Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-14 (Paris, 1762)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 17 (Paris, 1762)] Le grandeur de l’âme Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-16-26-6 (Paris, 1764); 4 A-16-269 (Frankfurt, 1768)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-7; J.F.-53-2-21 (Frankfurt, 1763, 2 cop.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 16 (Liege & Brussels, 1763)] Jésus-Christ par sa tolérance modèle des législateurs Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 7 (Paris, 1785)] Le jouissance de soi-même Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-16-26-5 (Paris, 1765); 4 A-16-26-2 (Liege, 1767)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-1 (Liege, 1764)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 15 (Brussels, 1762)] La langage de la raison Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-8 (Liege, 1764); J.F.-53-2-18 (Liege, 1766)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 22 (Liege, 1764)] La langage de la religion Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-14-19-19 (Liege, 1767)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-8 (Liege, 1763); J.F.-53-2-11 (Paris, 1766)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 21 (Paris, 1764)] Le livre de quatre couleurs Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, Obras Raras, OR 00391 (Paris, 1757), stamped]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, RES. 344//1 P. (Paris, 1760)] Le livre à la mode Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, RES. 344//3 P. (Paris, 1759); RES. 344//2 P. (Paris, 1760)] Lettres récréatives et morals sur les mœurs du temps Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-4/6 (Paris, 1767–68, 4 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 24/I-IV (Paris, 1767–68, 4 vol.)]

352 The Spiritual Rococo

La religion de l’honnête homme Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 54 (Paris, 1766)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-2 (Paris, 1765); J.F.-53-2-12 (Paris, 1771)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 20 (Paris, 1767)] Le tableau de la mort Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 31 (Frankfurt, 1760)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-16-26-1 (Paris, 1767)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-9 (Avignon, 1762)] Colégio da Sapiência, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-10 (Paris & Liege, 1766)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 12 (Liege, 1761); 11 553 22/I (Port., Lisbon, 1779)] L’Univers énigmatique Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-16 (Paris & Liege, 1768)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 14 (Frankfurt, 1760)] Le véritable mentor, ou l’éducation de la noblesse Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 31 (Liege, 1761)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-1-8-11 (Liege, 1762)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-15 (Paris & Liege, 1768)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 18 (Liege, 1762)] Unidentified Dr Claudio Manoel da Costa, Sabará 1789 [Revista trimensal do instituto histórico e geographico brasileiro 53, 1 (1890): 145] Claville, Charles-François-Nicolas Le Maître de, Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,12, 281b (Paris, 1742, 2 vol.)]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 32 (Paris, 1740, 2 vol.); (Paris, 1761, 2 vol.)]; Joanine Library, Coimbra [BJC 3-(6)-28-2,3 (Paris & Lyon, 1742, 2 vol.)] Croiset, Jean, Année chrétienne, ou Vies des Saints et exercices de piété pour les dimanches, les fêtes mobiles et tous les jours de l’année Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 256 2/I-II, IV-V (Lyon, 1764–65, 4 vol.); 11 256 8/I-V (It., Venice, 1763)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 36 (Paris 1732, 6 vol. only); (Lyon 1733, 18 vol.)] Considérations Chrétiennes pour toute l’année Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 ii, 26b (Paris, 4 vol.)]. La dévotion au Sacré-Cœur de Notre-Seigneur Jésus-Christ Portuguese Royal Library, 1788–90 [BNRJ, 65,3,2,6, 16]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-1-4-3; 4-1-4-4 (Sp., Barcelona, 1741, 2 cop.); 4 A-8-1627, 1 A-8-16-28 (Lyon, 1741, 2 cop.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de

Appendix B 353

Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 663 23/I-II (Sp., Madrid, 1741); 11 587 1 (Port., Lisbon, 1786)]; Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (French)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AH342115 Inv 00504805 (Lyon, 1741), S2AH342116 Inv 00504806 (Lyon, 1741)] Epitome Mariano das festas, e mysterios principaes de Maria Santissima Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, 65,2,2,1,20, 27a (Port.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-2-8-7; 4 A-32-23-10 (Port., Lisbon, 1760, 2 cop.)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 24027 V. (Port., Lisbon, 1759)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 36 (Port., Lisbon, 1760)] Exercices de piété pour tous les jours de l’année Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 67–8 (Lyon, 1745, 18 vol.); (It., Venice, 1755, 18 vol.); (Lyon, 1759, 18 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-14-15-17 (Port., Lisbon, 1747)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 256 1/I-XI (Lyon, 1754–63, 11 vol.); 11 256 10 (Lyon, 1761); 11 256 11 (Lyon, 1765, vol. 18 only); 11 256 7/I-IX (It., Venice, 1763)] Heures pour Messieurs les pensionnaires des RR PP Jésuites Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-13-7-24 (Lyon, 1749); 1-13-7-24 (Lyon, 1750)] Heures ou prières chrétiennes Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(b)-4-3 (Lyon, 1741)] Des illusions du cœur dans toutes sortes d’états et conditions Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 256 3/I-II (Lyon, 1748, 2 vol.)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 36 (Lyon, 1736, 2 vol.)] Œuvres Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (9 vol.)] Parallèle des mœurs de ce siècle et de la morale de Jésus-Christ Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 68 (It., Venice, 1734)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-3-1-9/10 (Lyon, 1743, 2 vol.); 1-(a)-3-20 (It., Venice, 1784)] Le parfait modèle de la jeunesse chrétienne Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 36 (Avignon, 1735)] Réflexions chrétiennes sur divers sujets de morale Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 ii, 31b (Lyon, 2 vol.)]; São Roque, Lisbon (ca. 1760) [BNRJ, I-13,4,27 (Port., Lisbon, 1747)]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 68 (It., Venice, 1734)]; Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (French)] Retraite spirituelle pour un jour chaque mois Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 ii, 32a (Port., Coimbra)]; Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, 65, 2, 2, 1, 92b (Lyon)]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 68 (Paris, 1741, 2 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 2-(3)-2-17 (Port., Lisbon, 1738); 4 A-14-20-5; 4 A-16-12-21; 4-26-1-

354 The Spiritual Rococo

17; 4-26-9-1; 1-(1)-8-11 (Port., Coimbra, 1741, 5 cop.); 4 A-16-19-9/12 (Port., Coimbra, 1764, 4 cop.); 4 A-16-19-8; 4 A-16-19-13 (Port., Lisbon, 1773, 2 cop.); 4 A-14-19-1; 4 A-16-19-14/17; 4 A-16-37-5 (Port., Coimbra, 1783, 6 cop.)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-56-2-29 (Lyon, 1755)]; Benedictine Monastery of Nossa Senhora da Assunção de Semide, Miranda do Corvo [BNP, R.13017 P (Port., Coimbra, 1738)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 256 4/I-II (Lyon, 1766, 2 vol.)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 36 (Lyon, 1750, 2 vol.)] Dinouart, Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint, L’Art de se taire, principalement en matière de religion Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-48-1-28; J.F.-48-1-29 (Paris, 1771, 2 cop.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 142 20 (Paris, 1771)] L’Éloquence du corps dans le ministère de la chaire, ou l’action du prédicateur Franciscan Convento de S. Francisco de Xabregas, Lisbon [BNP, L. 784/5 V. (Paris, 1761) †]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 418a (Paris, 1761)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 774 9 (Paris, 1761)]; Convento de São Francisco de Xabregas, Lisbon [BNP, L. 784 V. (Paris, 1761)] Journal ecclésiastique ou bibliothèque raisonnée des sciences ecclésiastiques Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-Ae-8-5 (Paris, 1760–86)] Manuel des pasteurs Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 71 (Lyon, 1764, 2 vol.)] Santoliana: Ouvrage qui contient la vie de Santeul ses bons mots, son demele avec les Jésuites, ses lettres, ses inscriptions Augustinian Monastery of S. Vicente de Fora, Lisbon [BNP, H.G. 9662 P. (Paris, 1764) †] Fénelon, François de Salignac de la Mothe (spiritual works only), Dialogues sur l’éloquence Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 ii, 22a (Port., Lisbon, 1 vol.)]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,12, 294a (Paris, 1773); (Port., Lisbon, 1761); BNRJ, I-14,4,13, 141b (Paris, 1753)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4-26-10-16 (Paris, 1753); 4-26-2-30 (Port., Lisbon, 1761)]; Augustinian Colégio de Santa Rita, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-652-28 (Paris, 1787)]; Convento de São Francisco de Xabregas, Lisbon [BNP, L. 786 V (Amsterdam, 1730); L. 793 V. (Paris, 1753); L. 1485/6 P. (Port., Lisbon, 1761, 2 cop.)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-65-5 A-1 (Paris, 1753)]; João Tomas de Mesquita e Quadros, eighteenth century [UCBG, J.F.-65-4 A-1 (Paris, 1740)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 767 4/II (Paris, 1764); 11 767 8 (Port., Lisbon, 1761)]; Canon Luís Vieira da Silva, 1789

Appendix B 355

[ADIM VI, 87–88, 312 (Port.)]; P. Carlos Correia de Toledo e Melo, Ouro Preto, 1789 [ADIM VI, 349 (Port.)] Directions pour la conscience d’un roi Portuguese Royal Library, 1788–90 [BNRJ, 65,3,2,6, 6a (Paris, 1747)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 347 18 (The Hague, 1748)] De l’éducation des filles Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 33 (Amsterdam, 1754, 2 vol.)] Explication des maximes des saints sur la vie intérieure Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 258a; and I-14,4,13, 144b (Paris, 1697)] Instructions pastorales Franciscan Monastery of São José de Ribamar, Arrábidos [BNP, RES. 289//2 P. (Amsterdam, 1698)] Œuvres philosophiques Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-1-9-66/69 (1740, 4 vol.); 4 A-10-1-15/16 (Amsterdam, 1731, 2 vol.)] Œuvres spirituelles São Roque, Lisbon (ca. 1760) [BNRJ, I-13,4,27 (Amsterdam, 1723)]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1762 [BNRJ, I-14,4,13, 141b (Paris, 1751, 5 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-(d)-10-3/11 (Paris, 1792, 9 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 762 7/I-IX (Paris, 1787–92, 9 vol.)]; São Bento Monastery, São Paulo [BFSB, Ascetica 2-B (Nancy, 1835, 4 vol.)] Nouveaux dialogues des morts P. Carlos Correia de Toledo e Melo, Ouro Preto, 1789 [ADIM VI, 350 (2 vol.)] Réflexions sur la rhétorique et sur la poétique Cistercian Monastery of Alcobaça [BNP, L. 786 V (Paris, 1730)] Sentimens de piété Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-10-11-23 (Paris, 1737)] Sermons choisis Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 426a (Paris, 1744)] Traité du ministère des pasteurs Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 111 10 (Paris, 1688)] Griffet, Henri, L’Année du chrétien Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 56 (Paris, 1747, 18 vol.)] L’Insuffisance de la religion naturelle Augustinian Colégio de Santa Rita, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-53-2-23/24 (Liege, 1770, 2 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina [UCBG, 4-26-14-13 (Liege & Avignon, 1772)]; Oratorian Congregation of the Holy Spirit, Lisbon [BNP, H.G. 6887 P. (Liege,

356 The Spiritual Rococo

1770)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 141 9/I-II (Liege, 1770, 2 vol.)] Sermons pour l’Avent, le Carême et les principales fêtes de l’année Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 173 7/I-III (Liege, 1766, 3 vol.); 11 173 8/I-III (Liege, 1773, 3 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library, ca. 1780 [Massimi, 59 (Paris, 1776, 4 vol.)] Traité des différentes sortes de preuves qui servent à établir la vérité historique Oratorian Casa do Espírito Santo, Lisbon [BNP, H.G. 6887 P. (Liege, 1770)†] Ladvocat, Louis-François, Entretiens sur un nouveau système de morale et de physique, ou la recherche de la vie heureuse selon les lumières naturelles (Paris, 1721) Merced, Belém (Pará) [ATC, 237, n.f.] Lamourette, Antoine-Adrien, Pensées sur la philosophie de l’incrédulité Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, 65,2,2,1,20, 21a (Port.)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 66 (Paris, 1786)] Malebranche, Nicholas, Conversations chrétiennes Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 140 8 (Paris, 1733)] Entretien d’un philosophe chrétien, et d’un philosophe chinois Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-6-16-12 (Paris, 1708)] Méditations chrétiennes et métaphysiques Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-8-11-12 (Lyon, 1707)] De la recherche de la vérité Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 214a (Paris, 1762, 4 vol.)]; Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 23 (Lat., Geneva, 1753, 2 vol.)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, 1-7-9-94/97 (Paris, 1772, 4 vol.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-20-3-2 (Paris, 1712); 4 A-10-11-8/11 (Paris, 1749, 4 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 325 3 (Lat., Geneva, 1691); 11 328 25/I-IV (Paris, 1762); 11 324 3/I-VI (Lat., Geneva, 1753, 2 vol.)] Massillon, Jean-Baptiste, Conversations chrétiennes Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-8-6-21 (Paris, 1733)] Discours synodaux sur les principaux devoirs des ecclésiastiques Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCGB, S.P.-S-11-3/4 (Paris, 1775, 2 vol.)]; Augustinian Colégio de Santa Rita, Coimbra [UCGB, J.F.-48-4-20/21 (Paris, 1748, 2 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 191 3/I-II (Paris, 1769, 2 vol.)]; Merced, Belém (Pará) [ATC, 237, n.f. (Port., 4 vol.)] Œuvres Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 450a (Paris, 1754, 13 vol.)]

Appendix B 357

Panégyriques Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 191 2/I-XII (Port., Lisbon, 1763–1775, 12 vol.); 11 200 17/I-II (Port., Lisbon, 1780)] Pensées sublimes Portuguese Royal Library [BNRJ, 65,2,2,1,20, 24a (Port.)]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-14-16-32 (Port., Lisbon, 1786)] Pensées sur divers sujets du morale et de piété Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 191 5 (Paris, 1769)] Sentimens d’une âme touchée de Dieu Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-14-27-9; 4 A-16-39-16 (Paris, 1758, 2 cop.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-s-11-14 (Paris, 1775)]; Cónegos Regrantes de Santo Agostinho, Convento de Santa Cruz, Coimbra [UCBG, J.F.-48-4-29 (Paris, 1748)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 191 7 (Paris, 1769)] Sermons Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 81b]; Biblioteca Joanina, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-27-20-2/3 (It., Venice, 1750, 2 vol.)]; Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, S.P.-S-11-5/13 (Paris, 1775, 9 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 191 1/I-VIII (Paris, 1769, 8 vol.); 11 187 3-7 (It., Venice, 1753–7); 11 191 15/I-X (Sp., Madrid, 1773–75)]; Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 26075 P. (Paris, 1745)]; Jesuit College Rio de Janeiro 1775 [RIHGB 301 (1973): 238]; Merced, Belém (Pará) [ATC, 237, n.f. (Port., 9 vol.); (13 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 60 (Paris, 1774–75, 3 vol.); (Paris, 1770); (It., Venice, 1750–55, 2 vol.); (It., Venice, 1753)]; Marquezes de Castello Melhor, Rio de Janeiro [Catálogo, 77 (Paris, 1759–63, 13 vol.); (Port., Lisbon, 1763–75, 11 vol.)] Sermons sur les évangiles du Carême Book Sale, Lisbon 1771 [Catálogo de Livros, 97 (Paris, 1763)] Necker, Mme (Suzanne Curchod), Manuscrits de Mme Necker, publiés par sa fille Conde de Barca (1754–1817), Rio de Janeiro 1818 [BNRJ, 1,298,806, 25a (Geneva)] Neuville, Charles Frey de, Sermons Unidentified Monastic Library, Portugal, 1834 [BNP, R. 6477–84 P. (Paris, 1776, 8 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 60 (Paris, 1776, 8 vol.)] Perrin, Charles-Joseph, Pièces d’éloquence, qui ont remporté le prix de l’académie françoise, depuis de 1750 jusqu’en 1763 Merced, Belém (Para) [ATC, 237, n.f. (4 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 57 (Paris, 1764, 3 vol.)]

358 The Spiritual Rococo

Segaud, Giullaume de, Homélies sur les évangiles de tous les dimanches et principales fêtes de l’année Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 472a (Metz, 1761, 4 vol.)] Sermons Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 468a (Paris, 1750, 6 vol.)]; Augustinian Colégio de Santa Rita, Coimbra [J.F.-63-2 A-22/27 (Paris, 1767, 6 vol.)]; Mariana Episcopal Library ca. 1780 [Massimi, 61 (Paris, 1750, 3 vol.)]; Frei D. Pontenevel Bishop of Mariana 1793 [Massimi, 63 (Paris, 1750, 6 vol.)] Sermons pour Carême Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 200 7/I-III (Paris, 1751, 3 vol.)] Sermons de missions Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 468a (Paris, 1754, 8 vol.)] Sermons des plus célèbres prédicateurs de ce tems Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 35a]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 468b (Brussels, 1750, 3 vol.)] Sermons sur les plus importantes matières de la morale chrétienne Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 81b (8 vol.)] Unidentified (“Tratado completo em Frances”) Jesuit College, Rio de Janeiro 1775 [RIHGB 301 (1973): 248] Trublet, Charles-Joseph. Introduction à la connoissance de l’esprit humain Real Colégio de São Pedro, Coimbra [UCBG, 4 A-8-11-23 (Paris, 1747)] Panégyriques des saints, précédés de Réflexions sur l’éloquence en général, et sur celle de la chaire en particulier Casa do Infantado, Lisbon, 1782 [BNRJ, 47-8-16 i, 132b (Paris)]; Dom João Cosmé da Cunha, Archbishop of Evora, 1764 [BNRJ, I-14,4,11, 472a (Paris, 1755)]; Franciscan Convento de Santo António, Varatojo [BNP, VAR. 2934/5 (Paris, 1764)]; Mariana Episcopal Library, ca. 1780 [Massimi, 62 (Paris, 1755)]; Frei D. Pontenevel Bishop of Mariana 1793 [Massimi, 63 (Paris, 1755)] Yves de Paris, Digestum sapientae Third Order Franciscan Convento de Nossa Senhora de Jesus, Lisbon [ACL, 11 780 2/I-IV (Paris, 1759–72, 4 vol.)]

Notes 1

Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI (Belo Horizonte, 1982).

2

The “main part” of the pre-nineteenth-century collections of the Biblioteca Nacional in Lisbon are from monastic libraries secularized in 1834 [Personal communication, Teresa Duarte Ferreira, librarian in the Manuscripts Department, Lisbon, October 1, 2012].

Appendix B 359

3

Robert C. Smith, Frei José de Santo António Ferreira Vilaça: Escultor beneditino do século XVIII (Lisbon, 1972).

4

Seraphim Leite, História da Companhia de Jesus no Brasil IV (Rio de Janeiro, 1938).

5

Catálogo de livros que se vendem por seus justos preços na loge da Impressão Regia (Lisbon, 1771).

6

All the provenances of the books bearing the † symbol were found for me by Fernanda Guedes de Campos of the Biblioteca Nacional in Lisbon, to whom I am extremely grateful.

7

Catálogo da importante e copiosa Bibliotheca dos Marquezes de Castello Melhor (Lisbon, 1878). The collection dates mostly from the eighteenth century and earlier, collected by Luis de Vasconcelos e Sousa (1742–1809), between 1778 and 1790 the twelfth viceroy of Brazil, and was added to in the early nineteenth century. The library was sold in 1878 and this was the catalogue for the sale.

8

Marina Massimi, “Um importante corpo documentário para a reconstrução da história da cultura no Brasil colonial: os acervos da oratória sagrada, Memorandum 10 (2006): 54–64.

9

“Auto de inventário e avaliação dos livros achados no Colegio dos Jesuitas do Rio de Janeiro e sequestrados em 1775,” Revista do Instituto Histórico e Geográfico Brasileiro, 301 (October-December, 1973): 212–309.

Appendix C: French Spiritual Literature in the Spanish Southern Cone

(This list includes the work of Teodoro de Almeida, who was Portuguese but active in Paris.) Almeida, Teodoro de, Disciplina eclesiástica Jesuit book order, Buenos Aires, 1742 [AGN, IX 6-9-7, 618a]; Shipment for Jesuit College, Buenos Aires, ca. 1744 [AGN, IX 6-9-7, 1162b] Recreação Filosófica Biblioteca Juan Egaña, Santiago, 1813 [BNC, 8/766–24 (Sp., Madrid, 1792, 2 vol.)]; Angel Mariano Moscoso, Bishop of Córdoba, 1762 [Furlong, Bibliotecas,1 62]; Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires, 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 120 (3 vol.); 123 (vol. 1, 4, 6, 7)]; Rodrigo Antonio de Orellana, Bishop of Córdoba, 1810 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 63] Sermões Jesuit libraries, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX-7-3-7, 538a (Sp., Madrid, 1738)]; Santa Rosa Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 22, 6b (4 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Santa Fé, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-3-5, 6, 7a]; Franciscan Library, Buenos Aires [BFBA Inventario 1771, (Sp.)] Beaumont, Christophe de, Instruction pastorale de monseigneur l’archevêque de Paris Jesuit College, Santa Fé, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-3-5, 6, 9b]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, 136, 52b] Bellegarde, Jean-Baptiste Morvan de, Le chrétien honnête homme Jesuit College Santa Fé [AGN, IX 22-3-5, 6, 8a] Œuvres, Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 244 B439.0 1761 c.1 (The Hague, 1761, 15 vol.)]; R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/1027A-15 (Paris, 1723)]. Réflections sur ce qui peut plaire ou déplaire dans le commerce du monde Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AH414619 Inv 00492256 (The Hague, 1729)]

362 The Spiritual Rococo

Bergier, Nicholas-Sylvestre. La certitude des preuves du Christianisme Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 230.1 B498 1768 c.1 (Paris, 1768, 2 vol.)] Le déisme réfuté par lui-même Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, (Paris, 1774)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 211 B498 1768 c.1 (Paris, 1768, 2 vol.); 211.5 B498 1771 (Paris, 1771); 211 B498 1777 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1777)]; Merced, Córdoba [Ferreyra, 159 (Sp., Madrid, 1777, 2 vol.)]2; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3A181319 Inv 00016786 (Sp., Madrid, 1777); TES3A18318 Inv 00016785 (Sp., Madrid, 1777)] Examen du matérialisme ou réfutation du système de la nature Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, (Paris, 1771, 2 vol.)] Boileau, Jacques, Panégyriques des saints San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 260a (Paris, 1719)]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, 136, 43b] Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, De la connoissance de Dieu et de soi-même Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 111:159.93:165 B777 1781 (Sp., Madrid, 1781)]; Dominican Library, Buenos Aires [OPBA (Paris, 1741)] Élévations à Dieu sur tous les mystères de la religion chrétienne Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, M VI (Sp., Madrid, 1785, 2 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 232.9 B777 1785 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1785, 2 vol.)]; Merced, Córdoba [Ferreyra, 187 (Sp., Madrid, 1769, vol. 2)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 181 (Sp., Madrid, 1772, 2 vol.)]3; Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 125] Histoire universelle Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC, 191: Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 11] Histoire des variations des Églises protestantes Shipment for Jesuit College, Buenos Aires, ca. 1744 [AGN, IX 6-9-7, 1158b (4 vol.); 1159 (4 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 269]4; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 12 (Antwerp, 1737)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 181 (Sp., Madrid, 1772)] Méditations sur L’Évangile Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 121 (4 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 181 (Sp., Madrid, 1770)] Œuvres/Sermons Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Paris, 1747, 12 vol.); (Amsterdam, 1753, 3 vol.)]; 5 Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, M IV (Sp., Madrid, 1771, 10 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 252 B746 1766 (Liege, 1766, incomplete); 252 B746 1774 c.1 (Sp., Valencia, 1774–76, 2 vol.)]; Ytapuá Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 27, 12b (4 vol.)]; Merced,

Appendix C 363

Córdoba [Ferreyra, 192–3 (Valencia, 1774, Sp.)]; Dr Baltasar Maciel, Buenos Aires 1801 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 76] Oraisons funèbres San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 263a (Paris, 1747)] Pensées chrétiennes Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 10b (Port., Lisbon, 1753)] Bourdaloue, Louis, Exhortations et instructions chrétiennes Jesuit College, Córdoba, before 1767 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 87 (Paris, 1733)]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, (1767) [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 11b (Avignon, 1750, 10 vol.)] Pensées sur divers sujets de religion et de morale Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Sp., Milan, 1740, 3 vol.)]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 11b (2 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 181 (Sp., Madrid, 1780)] Retraite Spirituelle à l’usage des communautés religieuses Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 242 B768 1787 c.1 (Toulouse, 1787, 2 vol.)]; Book sale, Buenos Aires, 1771 [Furlong, Trasplante cultural, 53 (11 vol.)]; San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 97a; 251a (Madrid, 1736, 5 sets)]; Mercedarian Library, Córdoba, 1776 [ACMC, 19, Libro de Inventarios 1774 a 1804, 44 (3 sets)] Sermons (including Sermons ... pour les dimanches) Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Sp., Antwerp, 1740); (Sp., Madrid, 1790–91, 2 vol.)]; Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, 33/171 (Sp., Madrid, 1796, 13 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 252 B768s 1701 c.1 (Lyon, 1701, 4 vol.); 252 B768a-s 1787 c.1–2 (Toulouse, 1787, 3 vol., 4 sets); 252.4 B768d 1787 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1791, 16 vol.)]; Shipment for Jesuit College, Buenos Aires, ca. 1744 [AGN, IX 6-9-7, 1162a]; Merced, Buenos Aires [BMBA (Lyon, 1750, vol. 2); (Lyon, 1769, vol. 3, 4)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 333 (15 vol.)]; San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 89a (14 vol.); 245b (Lyon, 1750, 14 vol.); 245b (Lyon, 1750, 14 vol.); 254b (Sp., Barcelona, 1758)]; Jesuit College, Santa Fé, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-3-6, 2, 15a (Antwerp, 1740, 11 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Salta, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-1-2, 85b; 270b]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 3b (Sp., Antwerp, 1700, 12 vol.); XII, 4b (It., Venice, 1739); 136, 45b (15 vol.); 84b (9 vol.)]; Franciscan Library, Buenos Aires [BFBA (Sp.)]; Merced, Córdoba [Ferreyra, 182 (Sp., Madrid, 1779, 15 vol.)]; San Francisco, Córdoba, purchased 1807 [AFC, Gastos 3, 219a]; Dominican Library, Buenos Aires [OPBA (Sp., Madrid, 1777, 12 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 181 (Antwerp, 1740–50, 4 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1777–78, 9 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1791, 11 vol.)] Sermons du père Bourdaloue ... pour l’Avent Santo Ángel Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-4, 20, 33b]; Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Sp., Madrid, 1791, 2 vol.)]

364 The Spiritual Rococo

Sermons du père Bourdaloue … pour le Carême Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, B 26 (Sp., Madrid, 1779, 11 vol.)] Unidentified Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC 191, Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 17 (17 vol.)] Bretonneau, François, Sermons morales et panégyriques Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, F VIII (Paris, 1749, 7 vol.)]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 3b (Paris, 1749, 7 vol.); 136, 50b (5 vol.)] Buffier, Claude, Exposition des preuves les plus sensibles de la véritable religion Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF031034 Inv 00419222 (Paris, 1732)] Pratique de la mémoire artificielle R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/242A-13 (Paris, 1735)] Calmet, Antoine-Augustin, Commentaire de la Bible Jesuit College, Córdoba, before 1767 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 87 (Latin, Lucca, 1729)]; Book purchase, Jesuit College, Buenos Aires, 1753 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 47]; Mission Library, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 7-3-7, 472a (1734)]; Crisanto Aragón, Mendoza, late eighteenth century [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 70]; Franciscan Library, Buenos Aires [BFBA (Latin)] Œuvres Angel Mariano Moscoso, Bishop of Córdoba, 1762 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 62]; Corpus Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 21, 9a]; Itapuá Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 17, 10b (2 vol.)]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, 136, 41b (9 vol.)] Caraccioli, Marquis Louis-Antoine de, Les caractères de l’amitié Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032311 Inv 00418137 (Frankfurt, 1762)]; R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/998–21 (Sp., Madrid, 1786)] La conversation avec soi-même Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032306 Inv 00418131 (Liege, 1742)]; R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/1056–3 (Sp., Madrid, 1786)] Le cri de la vérité contra la séduction du siècle Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 217 C27cV 1777 (Sp., Madrid, 1777)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF041511 Inv 00420150 (Sp., Madrid, 1763)] De la gaieté Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 123 (Sp.)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032310 Inv 00418136 (Paris, 1763); S2AH333618 Inv 00505044 (Sp., Madrid, 1782)] La jouissance de soi-même

Appendix C 365

Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032305 Inv 00418131 (Liege, 1744); S2AF064120 Inv 00421939 (Sp., Madrid, 1780); TES3C113114 Inv 00404992 (Sp., Madrid, 1787); TES3C113205 Inv 00404993 (Madrid, 1787); TES3C113205 Inv 00417464 (Madrid, 1787)] Le langage de la raison Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 17 C257 1777 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1777)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032312 Inv 00418133 (Frankfurt, 1761)]; R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8A/3615 (Sp., Madrid, 1786)] Le religion de l’honnête homme Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 17 C257 1776 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1776)] L’Univers énigmatique Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 141.333 C257 1778 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1778)] Le véritable mentor, ou l’éducation de la noblesse Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032308 Inv 00418134 (Liege, 1762); S2AF03232112 Inv 00417464 (Sp., Madrid, 1785)]; Franco Antonio de Letamendi, Buenos Aires [BNC, 8A/55-24 (Sp., 1785)] Œuvres Angel Mariano Moscoso, Bishop of Córdoba, 1762 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 62]; Merced, Buenos Aires 1791 [AGN, IX 7-2-6 (22 vol.)] Cheminais, Timoléon, Sermons du père Cheminais de la Compagnie de Jésus San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 265a (Paris, 1741, 2 vol.)] Chevassu, Joseph, Prônes pour tous les dimanches de l’année San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 245a (Lyons, 1755, 4 vol.)] Claville, Charles-François-Nicolas Le Maître de, Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF032316-17 Inv 00418142-43 (Amsterdam, 1777, 2 vol.)]; R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/105723/24 (Paris, 1761, 2 vol.)] [Courtin, Antoine de], Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnêtes gens San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 97a] Croiset, Jean, Année chrétienne, ou vies des Saints et exercices de piété pour les Dimanches, les fêtes mobiles et tous les jours de l’année Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS (Sp., Madrid, 1781, 12 vol.)]; Third Order Franciscan Library, Santiago [BFS (Sp., Madrid, 1787, 6 vol.)]; Unspecified

366 The Spiritual Rococo

colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3C143118 Inv 003 77816 (Sp., Madrid, 1763, supplement)]; Merced, Córdoba [BMBA, 1111 17-02 (Sp., eighteenth century, vol. 1); 1112 17-02 (Sp., Madrid, 1774, vol. 2); 1113 17-02 (Sp., Madrid, 1787, vol. 3); 1114 17-02 (Sp., Madrid, 1775, vol. 4); 1115 17-02 (Sp., Madrid, 1775, vol. 5)]; Merced, Mendoza [BMBA, 1105-10 17-02 (Sp., Madrid, 1787, 6 vol.)]; Dominican Library, Buenos Aires [OPBA (Sp., Madrid, 1771–74, 4 vol.)]; Don Santiago Liniers, Buenos Aires, 1810 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 132 (Sp., 12 vol.)] La dévotion au Sacré-Cœur de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ Jesuit College, Santa Fé, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-3-6, 2, 12b (Sp., Pamplona, 1736, 2 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 313] Exercices de piété pour tous les jours de l’année Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Lyon, 1745, 12 vol.); (Lyon, 1745–46, 5 vol.); (Lyon, 1751, 13 vol.)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF073101-109 Inv 004226614-622 (Lyon, 1783, 9 vol.); S2AF072710-17 Inv 00423222-29 (Lyon, 1787, 7 vol.)] Réflexions chrétiennes sur divers sujets de morale San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 256a; AGN, IX 225-5, 87a, 248b (Sp., Madrid, 1749, 2 vol., 7 sets); 252b (Sp., Barcelona, 1758, 2 vol.)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3C123207 Inv 00501984 (Sp., Barcelona, 1758), TES3C122101 Inv 00572406 (Sp., Barcelona, 1758)]; Don Santiago Liniers, Buenos Aires 1810 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 132 (Sp., 12 vol.)]; Dominican Library, Buenos Aires [OPBA (Sp., Madrid, 1771–74, 4 vol.)]; Santa Rosa Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 22, 6b (2 vol.)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF041617 Inv 00420041 (Lyon 1755, vol. 2)]; Shipment for Jesuit College, Buenos Aires, ca. 1744 [AGN, IX 6-9-7, 1163b]; Angel Mariano Moscoso, Bishop of Córdoba, 1762 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 62] Retraite spirituelle pour un jour chaque mois Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 290]; San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 87a; 218b]; Jesuit College Santa Fé [IX 223-6, 2, 14a (Sp., Barcelona)]; Jesuit College, Salta [AGN, IX 22-1-2, 84b; 289b; 308a]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF041616 Inv 00420041 (Lyon, 1755, vol. 1)]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 5b (Sp., Barcelona, 1708, 2 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 179 (Sp., Madrid, 1781–86, 2 vol.); (Sp., Pamplona, 1782– 83, 6 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1787, 5 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1778, 5 vol.)] Unidentified Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC 19, Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 11 (15 vol.)] De La Rue, Charles, Panégyriques des saints et oraisons funèbres San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 245b (Paris, 1760, 2 vol.)]

Appendix C 367

Sermons Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC, 191, Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 17 (2 vol.)]; Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, F III (Sp., Madrid, 1781)]; Merced, Córdoba [BMBA, 1704–7 16–4 (Sp., Madrid, 1781, vol. 1, 2, extra copy of 2, 3)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1771 [AGHUC, 6-17-7, 89a (12 vol.); 127a (16 vol.)] Dinouart, Joseph-Antoine-Toussaint, L’Éloquence du corps dans le ministère de la chaire, ou l’action du prédicateur R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/373A-8 (Paris, 1754)] Duguet, Jacques-Joseph, Institution d’un prince San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 244a (London, 1743)] Fénelon, François de Salignac de la Mothe (spiritual works only), Dialogues sur l’éloquence Biblioteca Juan Egaña, Santiago, 1813 [BNC, 8/1051–24 (Paris, 1764)] De l’éducation des filles Biblioteca Juan Egaña, Santiago, 1813 [BNC, 8/1109–21 (Paris, 1788)] Instructions pastorales Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 159, 49] Œuvres spirituelles Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, E 19; G VII (Paris, 1751, 4 vol., 2 cop.)]; Dr Baltasar Maciel, Buenos Aires, 1801 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 76] Fléchier, Esprit, Lettres Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 224; AGHUC, 6-17-7, 121a (2 vol.)] Œuvres complètes R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/1028-10 (Nimes, 1782)] Panégyriques, sermons, discoures et oraisons funèbres Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Lyon, 1752, 2 vol.)]; San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 262a]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, S2AF062107 Inv 418997 (Sp., Madrid, 1787)]; Dr Baltasar Maciel, Buenos Aires, 1801 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 76] Sermons Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, 3 f 3 (Sp., Madrid, 1783, 6 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 252.9 F593 1775 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1775–76, 6 vol.)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3A194502-07 Inv 0017137-42 (Sp., Madrid, 1785, 6 vol.)]; Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC 191, Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 17 (3 vol.)] Sermons de morale Cathedral Library, Santiago [CLS (Lyon, 1730, 2 vol.)]

368 The Spiritual Rococo

Fleury, Claude, La manière de bien penser San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 272a (Lyon)] Petit catéchisme historique, ou abrège de l’histoire sainte et la doctrine Chrétienne Jesuit book order, Buenos Aires, 1739 [AGN, IX 6-7-9 (2 vol. x 4)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 189]; Order for Brother Manuel Herrera, Chile, 1762 [IX 6-10-5]; Book order, Candelaria Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 6-10-5]; San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires 1767 [AGN, IX 22-55, 248a (Sp., Madrid, 1766, 2 vol.); 265b (Paris, 1754); 277 (French)] Gallifet, Joseph de, De cultu sacrosanti cordeis Iesu Santo Ángel Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-4, 20, 35a (Latin)]; Jesuit College, Santa Fé [AGN, IX 22-3-6, 2, 12b (Latin, Rome, 1726)] Gibert, Balthasar, La rhétorique ou les règles de l’éloquence San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 263a (Paris, 1742)] Gobinet, Charles, Instruction de la jeunesse en la piété chrétienne Merced, Buenos Aires, 1791 [AGN, IX 7-2-6 (Sp.)] Griffet, Henri. Traité des différentes sortes de preuves qui servent à établir la vérité historique Biblioteca Juan Egaña, Santiago, 1813 [BNC, 8/332A-18 (Liege, 1769)] Helvetius, Claude Hadrien. Unidentified Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 497] Houdry, Vincent, Bibliotheca concionatoria complectens panegyricas orationes sanctorum Shipment for Jesuit College, Buenos Aires, ca. 1744 [AGN, IX 6-9-7, 1166b] L’honnête homme Jesuit College Santa Fé, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-3-5, 6, 8a] Lacroix, Claude, Le nouveau secret San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 88b] Lafitau, Pierre-François, Sermons Don B. Alvarez, Santiago [BNC, 14/68-16 (Sp., Valencia, 1754)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 197–8 (Sp., Valencia, 1754, 6 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1770–76, 8 vol.)]; Dominican Library, Santa Fé [OPBA (Sp., Madrid, 1773, 4 vol.)] Sermons : Carême Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757, 1771 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 328; AGHUC 6-17-7, 107b]

Appendix C 369

Lambert, Mme, Lettres d’une mère à son fils et à sa fille Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 122] Lamourette, Antoine-Adrien, Considérations sur l´esprit et les devoirs de la vie Religieuse Don Francisco Cándido Gutiérrez, presbitério of Córdoba Cathedral, ca. 1810 [ACC] La Roche, Jean de, Sermons Mártires Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 4, 16a (4 vol.)] Lebrun, Père, Sermons Ytapuá Reduction, Paraguay, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-6-3, 17, 10b] Lévésque de Pouilly, Jean-Simon, Théorie des sentimens agréables R.E.S. (?), Santiago [BNC, 8/985A-6 (Sp., Madrid, 1777)] Lipse, Juste, Le Prince Parfait, avec des conseils et des exemples moraux et politiques Jesuit College, Santa Fé [AGN, IX 22-3-6, 2, 2a] Malebranche, Nicholas, De la recherche de la vérité Biblioteca Juan Egaña, Santiago, 1813 [BNC, 8/882-10a13 (Paris, 1749, 4 vol.)] Massillon, Jean-Baptiste. Discours synodaux sur les principaux devoirs des ecclésiastiques Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 252 M417 1770 c.1 (Paris, 1770)]; Angel Mariano Moscoso, Bishop of Córdoba, 1762 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 62] Panégyriques Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 11b (Paris, 1748)] Pensées sur divers sujets du morale et de piété Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS (Sp., Madrid, 1778, 9 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 252 M417p. 1770 c.1 (Paris, 1770)] Sermons Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS (Sp., Madrid, 1778, 11 vol.); (It., Venice, 1765)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1771 [AGHUC 6-17-7, 124b (6 vol.)]; Unidentified Dominican Monastery, Argentina, 1793 [ADC, Caja de Inventarios (2 vol., 2 sets)]; Dr Baltasar Maciel, Buenos Aires 1801 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 76]; Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, 136, 84b (5 vol.)]; Merced, Mendoza [BMBA 1400-03 17-06 (Sp., Madrid, 1773, 3 vol.)]; Merced, Córdoba [BMBA, 1404-06 17-06 (Sp., Madrid, 1773, 3 vol.)]; Merced, Buenos Aires 1791 [AGN, IX 7-2-6 (Port., 9 vol.)]; Franciscan Library, Buenos Aires [BFBA (Sp.)]; Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC, 191, Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 28; Ferreyra, 191 (Sp., Madrid, 1773)]; Dominican Monastery, Córdoba [Llamosas and Tagle, 198 (Sp., Madrid,

370 The Spiritual Rococo

1775–78, 8 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1773–75)]; Dominican Library, Rioja [OPBA (Sp., Madrid, 1773, vol. 1, 3, 5, 7); Dominican Library, Santa Fé [OPBA (Sp., Madrid, 1778, 3 vol.)]; Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3A161407-1411 Inv 00016337-41 (Sp., Madrid, 1778, 9 vol.)]; Merced, Rioja [BMBA, 1399 17-06 (Sp., Madrid, 1800, vol. 1)] Sermons sur les évangiles du Carême Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3A161416 Inv 16346 (Sp., Madrid, 1778)] Nepveu, François, Méthode facile d’oraison San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 89b; 260b (Madrid, 1766)] Pensées, ou réflexions chrétiennes Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, 136, 45b (5 vol.); XII, 11 (Antwerp, 1643, 4 vol.)]; Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 124 (4 vol.)] Retrait spirituelle pour les personnes religieuses Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 235]; Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 122] Neuville, Charles Frey de, Sermons Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS (Sp., Madrid, 1786, 5 vol.); (Sp., Madrid, 1793, 4 vol.)]; Dominican Monastery of the Recoleta, Santiago [BRD, 252 N498 1787 c.1 (Sp., Madrid, 1787, 6 vol.)]; Merced, Córdoba [BMBA, 1818–20 18-2 (Sp., Madrid, 1786, vol. 1, 2, 5); 1821 18-2 (Sp. Madrid, 1787, vol. 6); 1822 18-02 (Sp., Madrid, 1789, vol. 7)]; Merced, Buenos Aires 1791 [AGN, IX 7-2-6 (6 vol.)] Perrin, Charles-Joseph, Sermons sur la morale et sur les mystères Jesuit libraries Buenos Aires [AGN, IX-7-3-7, 565b (Paris, 1740, 2 vol.)]; Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 237 (2 vol.)] Pouget, François Aimé, Instructions générales en forme de catéchisme Don Francisco de Ortega, Buenos Aires, 1790 [Furlong, Bibliotecas, 125] Rapin, René, Comparaisons de grands hommes de l’antiquité Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 385] Œuvres du P. Rapin qui contiennent réflexions sur l’éloquence, la poétique, l’histoire, et la philosophie Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 387] Richard, Jean, Eloges historiques des Saints, avec les mystères de Nôtre-seigneur, et les fêtes de la Sainte Vierge, pour tout le cours de l’année Merced, Córdoba [BMBA 1121 17-02 (Sp., Valencia, 1778, vol. 2); 1122–23 17-02 (Sp., Valencia, 1780, 2 vol., 2 cop.)]

Appendix C 371

Saint-Aubin, Gilbert Charles Le Gendre, Marquis de, Traité de l’opinion ou mémoires pour servir de l’histoire de l’esprit humain San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 97b; 265b (Paris, 1758, 4 vol.)] Saint-Georges, Georges Guillet de. Les arts de l’homme d’épée: dictionnaire du gentilhomme Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 494] Segaud, Giullaume de, Sermons Franciscan Monastery, Santiago [BFS, B 100 (Paris, 1760, 4 vol.)]; San Fernando Ship, Buenos Aires, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-5-5, 97a; 245a (Paris, 1760, 4 vol.)]; Merced, Córdoba, 1846 [ACMC, 191, Inventario de las temporalidades del Convento de la Merced de Córdoba, 1846, 17 (2 vol.)] Surin, Jean-Joseph, Pensées chrétiennes Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 11a (Avignon, 1727, 2 vol.); 10b (1762)] Texier, Claude, Conduite spirituelle Jesuit College, Córdoba, 1757 [Fraschini and Sánchez, 189] Trublet, Charles-Joseph, Panégyriques des Saints précédés de réflexions sur l’éloquence en général et sur celle de la chaire en particulier Unspecified colonial library, Río de la Plata [BNRA, TES3C113116 Inv 00417567-8 (Paris, 1764, 2 vol.)] Voltaire, L’Histoire de Charles XII, Roi de Suède Jesuit Residence, Montevideo, 1767 [AGN, IX 22-9-3, XII, 10b (Paris, 1732)]

Notes 1

Guillermo Furlong, Bibliotecas argentinas durante la dominación hispánica. Buenos Aires, 1944.

2

Avelino Ferreyra Alvarez, Catálogo de la Biblioteca del Convento de la Merced siglos XVI-XVII-XVIII (Cordoba, 1952).

3

F. Llamosas and Matilde Tagle de Cuenca, “Librería de predicadores de Córdoba ediciones siglos XVI, XVII, XVIII,” in Rubén González et al, eds, La Orden de Santo Domingo en Córdoba historia y patrimonio (Pugliese Siena, 2004).

4

Alfredo Eduardo Fraschini and Luís Ángel Sánchez, Index Librorum Bibliothecae Collegii Maximi Cordubensis Societatis Iesu, 1757 (Buenos Aires, 2003).

5

I am grateful to Carmen Pizarro for locating the books in the Cathedral Library in Santiago.

Bibliography

Published Primary Sources Almeida, Theodoro de. O feliz independente do mundo e da fortuna ou arte de vivir contente em quaesquer trabalhos da vida. Lisbon, 1779. d’Argenville, Dezallier. La conchyliologie, ou, histoire naturelle des coquilles de mer. Paris, 1780. Assézat, Jules, ed. Œuvres complètes de Diderot. Paris, 1876. Aubert, Mme. Les Charmes de la société du chrétien. Paris, 1730. Autos de Devassa da Inconfidência Mineira VI. Belo Horizonte, 1982. Bastide, Jean-François. The Little House: An Architectural Seduction (Rudolphe el-Khouri, trans. and ed.). New York, 1996. Bergier, Nicholas-Sylvestre. Apologie de la religion chrétienne, contre l’Auteur du Christianisme dévoilé, & contre quelques autres Critiques. II vols. Paris, 1769. Blondel, Jacques-François. Nouveau livre des cinq ordres. Paris, 1761. Blondel, Jacques-François. “Disposition (Architecture).” In Denis Diderot and Jean d’Alembert, eds, Encyclopédie ou dictionnaire raisonné XI (Geneva, 1777): 109. Boffrand, Germain. Book of Architecture (Caroline van Eck ed., and David Britt, trans.). Aldershot, 2002. Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne. Élévations à Dieu chez tous les mystères de la religion chrétienne. Paris, 1727. Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne. Méditations sur l’évangile. Versailles, 1815. Buffier, Claude. Exposition des preuves les plus sensibles de la véritable religion. Paris, 1732. “Cabinet construit à Paris, pour être transporté en Pologne.” Mercure de France (July 1736): 1691–4. Calmel, Père. Méthode facile pour être heureux en cette vie et assurer son bonheur éternel. Paris, 1727. Caraccioli, Louis-Antoine. De la gaieté. Frankfurt and Paris, 1762. Caraccioli, Louis-Antoine. L’Europe française. Turin, 1776. Caraccioli, Louis-Antoine. La jouissance de soi-même. Utrecht and Amsterdam, 1759.

374 The Spiritual Rococo

Caraccioli, Louis-Antoine. Le livre des quatre couleurs. Paris, 1760. Catálogo da importante e copiosa Bibliotheca dos Marquezes de Castello Melhor. Lisbon, 1878. Catálogo de livros que se vendem por seus justos preços na loge da Impressão Regia. Lisbon, 1771. Claville, Le Maître de. Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme considéré dans tous les âges et dans toutes les conditions. Paris, 1737. Claville, Le Maître de. Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme considéré dans tous les âges et dans toutes les conditions. Amsterdam, 1742. Corsembleu, Joseph-François-Édouard de, Sieur de Desmahis. “Femmes.” In Denis Diderot and Jean d’Alembert, eds, Encylopédie, ou dictionnaire raisonné XIII (Geneva, 1778): 956–7. Courtin, Antoine de. Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnêtes gens. Paris, 1700. Danzer, Jakob. Anleitung zur christlichen Moral für seine Schüler in Privatstunden. Salzburg, 1791. De la Salle, Jean-Baptiste. Les Règles de la Bienséance et de la civilité chrétienne I. Rheims, 1782. Diderot, Denis. “Jouissance.” In Denis Diderot and Jean D’Alembert, Encyclopédie, ou dictionnaire raisonné XVIII (Geneva, 1777): 45. Diderot, Denis. Salons. Michel Delon, ed., Paris, 2008. Dinouart, Joseph-Antoine-Toussant. L’éloquence du corps dans la ministère de la chaire, ou l’action du prédicateur. Paris, 1754. Dinouart, Joseph-Antoine-Toussant. Le Triomphe du sexe, ouvrage dans lequel on démontre que les femmes sont en tout égales aux hommes. Amsterdam, 1749. Fastl, Augustin. Der neue Himmel zu Diessen, das ist: Kirchweyh- Lob- und Jubel-Predig. Die neue Marianische Stüfft-Kirchen. Munich, 1740. Fénelon, François de Salignac de La Mothe. Dialogues sur l’éloquence en général, et sur celle de la chaire en particulier. Paris, 1841. Fénelon, François de Salignac de La Mothe. Œuvres de M. François de Salignac de La Mothe Fénelon VIII. Paris, 1792. Gersaint, Edmé-François. Catalogue raisonné de coquilles et autres curiosités naturelles. Paris, 1736. Griffet, Henri. Sermons pour l’Avent, le Carême, et les principales fêtes de l’année. Paris, 1766. Kraus, Johann Baptist. Bibliotheca Principalis Ecclesiae et Monasterii Ord. S. Benedicti ad S. Emmeramum Epis. Et Martyr. Ratisbonae. Regensburg, 1748. La Fontaine, Jean de. Les amours de Psyché et de Cupidon. Paris, 1803. La Fontaine, Jean de. The Loves of Cupid and Psyche in Verse and Prose (Lockman, trans. and ed.). London, 1744. Lambert, Anne-Therèse de Marguenat de Courcelles, Marquise de. Avis d’une mère à son fils et à son fille. Paris, 1728.

Bibliography 375

Lamourette, L’Abbé. Les délices de la religion ou le pouvoir de l’évangile pour nous rendre heureux. Paris, 1788. Laugier, Abbé. Manière de bien juger des ouvrages de peinture. Paris, 1771. Lévésque de Pouilly. Louis-Jean The Theory of Agreeable Sensations. Edinburgh, 1766. Mariette, Pierre-Jean. Catalogues de la collection d’estampes de Jean V, roi de Portugal III vols (Marie-Thérèse Mandroux-França ed.). Lisbon and Paris, 2003. Massillon, Jean-Baptiste. Œuvres de Massillon, Évêque de Clermont I. Paris, 1843. Massillon, Jean-Baptiste. Petit Carême de Massillon, Évêque de Clermont. Paris, 1789. Massillon, Jean-Baptiste. Sermons de M. Massillon, Évêque de Clermont: Carême I. Paris, 1758. Massillon, Jean-Baptiste. The Charges of Jean Baptiste Massillon, Bishop of Clermont, Addressed to his Clergy (Rev. Theops. St. John, ed.). New York, 1806. Mayr, Beda. Predigten über den Catechismus: für das Landvolk auf alle Sonn- und Festtage des Jahres. Augsburg, 1777. “Memoire sur M. Messonier.” Mercure de France (October 1750): 138–40. Mézières, Le Camus de. Le génie d’architecture, ou analogie de cet art avec nos sensations. Paris 1780. Molé, Guillaume-François-Roger. Observations historiques et critiques sur les erreurs des peintres, sculpteurs, et dessinateurs dans la représentation des sujets tirés de l’histoire sainte. Paris, 1771. Morellet, André. Portrait de Madame Geoffrin. Paris, 1777. Nattenhusanus, Mauritius. Homo Simplex Et Rectus, Oder der alte redliche Teutsche Michel. Augsburg, 1701. Neuville, Charles Frey de. Œuvres I. Paris, 1830. Neuville, Charles Frey de. Sermons du Père Charles Frey de Neuville II. Paris, 1776. Neuville, Charles Frey de. Sermons du Père Charles Frey de Neuville III. Lyon, 1777. Ovalle, Alonso de. Historica relatione del regno de Cile. Rome, 1646. Perrin, Charles-Joseph. Sermons du R.P. Perrin sur la morale et sur les mystères. Liege and Paris, 1768. Puisieux, Mme de. Conseils à une amie. Paris, 1750. Ripa, Cesare. Iconologia (Piero Buscarioli, ed.). Milan, 1992. Rösser, Columban. Institutiones philosophiae de homine et deo. Würzburg, 1780. Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. Confessions (Angela Scholar, trans. and ed.). Oxford, 2000. Sales, Francis de. Introduction to the Devout Life. London, 1877. Schelle, Augustin. Praktische Philosophie: zum Gebrauche akademischer Vorlesungen. Salzburg, 1792. Segaud, Guillaume de. Panégyriques du Père de Segaud de la Compagnie de Jésus. Paris, 1751. Segaud, Guillaume de. Sermons du Père de Segaud, de la Compagnie de Jésus: Mystères. Paris, 1747.

376 The Spiritual Rococo

Sepp, Anton. Relación de viaje a las misiones jesuíticas (Werner Hoffmann, trans.). Buenos Aires, 1971. Stöcklein, Joseph Der neue Welt-Bott. Augsburg, 1728–1758. Thomas, M. A la mémoire de Madame G.. Paris, 1777. Trublet, Abbé Nicolas-Charles-Joseph. Essais sur divers sujets de littérature et de morale. Paris, 1768. Trublet, Abbé Nicolas-Charles-Joseph. Panégyriques des saints. Paris, 1764. Voltaire, Candide (Philip Littell ed.). New York, 2007. Yvon, Claude. Histoire de la religion où l’on accorde la philosophie avec le christianisme. Paris, 1785.

Secondary Literature Abray, Jane. “Feminism in the French Revolution.” The American Historical Review 80, 1 (February 1975): 43–62. Afonso, Simonetta Luz, and Angela Delaforce. Palace of Queluz: The Gardens. Lisbon, 1989. Albertan-Coppola, Sylviane. “L’apologétique catholique française à l’âge des Lumières.” Revue de l’histoire des religions 205, 2 (1988): 151–80. Albertan-Coppola, Sylviane. “Présentation,” and “Perspectives.” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 5–9, 10–12. Albina, Larissa L., and Anthony Strugnell. “Recherches nouvelles sur l’identification des volumes de la bibliothèque de Diderot.” Recherches sur Diderot et sur l’Encyclopédie 9 (1990): 41–54. Alcalá, Luisa Elena. “Las imágenes de Jerónimo Nadal y un retablo novohispano.” Anales del Instituto de Investigaciones Estéticas XVI/64 (1993): 47–55. Alm, Göran. “Arkitekturen och Inredningskonsten,” in Göran Alm, ed., Frihetstidens Konst. (Lund, 1997): 9–134. Amunátegui, M.L. “Apuntes sobre lo que han sido las Bellas Artes en Chile.” Revista de Santiago III (1849): 37–47. Anastácio, Vanda. “Cherchez la femme (à propos d’une forme de sociabilité littéraire à Lisbonne à la fin du XVIIIème siècle.” Arquivos do Centro Cultural Português XLIX (2005): 93–101. Andrew, Edward G. Patrons of Enlightenment. Toronto, 2006. Angenot, Marc. Les champions des femmes. Quebec City, 1977. d’Angers, Julien Eymard. Le père Yves de Paris et son temps. Meaux, 1946. Aranguiz Donoso, Horacio. “Notas para el estudio de la Hacienda de la Calera de Tango, 1685–1783,” Historia, 6 (1967): 221–262. Archikatedra Świętego Jura we Lwowie. Lvov, 2008. Arcidiacono, Maria. “Beyond the Alps: the Viennese Masters.” In Elena Montani et al., eds, Flemish Masters and other Artists: Foreign Artists from the Heritage of the Fondo Edifici di Culto del Ministero dell’Interno (Rome, 2008): 49–51.

Bibliography 377

Arias Incollá, María de las Nieves. “Evolución arquitectónica.” in María I. Soulés et al., eds, Manzana de las Luces Iglesia de San Ignacio XVII–XX (Buenos Aires, 1983): 81–116. Arnault, A.V. et al., eds. Biographie nouvelle des contemporains ou dictionnaire historique et raisonné. Paris, 1824. Arnold, Rebecca. “New rococo: Sofia Coppola and the fashions in contemporary femininity.” In Melissa Hyde and Katie Scott, eds., Rococo echo: art, theory and historiography from Cochin to Coppola. Oxford, 2015. Aston, Nigel. Art and Religion in Eighteenth-Century Europe. London, 2009. Auer, Wilhelm Theodor. Die Klosterpfarrkirche zu Dießen am Ammersee. Dießen, 1964. Ayres de Carvalho, A. “Dom Joao V and the Artists of Papal Rome.” In Jay Levenson, The Age of the Baroque in Portugal (Washington, 1993): 31–48. Ayrolo, Valentina. Funcionarios de dios y de la república: clero y política en la experiencia de las autonomías provinciales. Buenos Aires, 2007. Azevedo, Ferdinand. “Teodoro de Almeida: A Religious Orator of the Portuguese Enlightenment.” Luso-Brazilian Review 16, 2 (Winter, 1979): 239–47. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. The Andean Hybrid Baroque: Convergent Cultures in the Churches of Colonial Peru. Notre Dame, 2010. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. Art on the Jesuit Missions in Asia and Latin America, 1542–1773. Toronto, 1999. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. Baroque & Rococo. London, 2012. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. Between Renaissance and Baroque: Jesuit Art in Rome, 1565–1610. Toronto, 2003. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “The Calera de Tango of Chile (1741–67): The Last Great Mission Art Studio of the Society of Jesus.” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu LXXIV, 147 (January–June 2005): 175–206. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “Classicism in a Rococo World: Steadfastness and Compromise in Late Colonial South America.” In Matthew Reeve, ed., Architecture and the Classical Tradition (Turnhout, 2014): 101–13. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “Cultural Convergence at the Ends of the Earth: The Unique Art and Architecture of the Jesuit Missions to the Chiloé Archipelago (1608–1767).” In John W. O’Malley et al., eds, The Jesuits II: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts, 1540–1773 (Toronto, 2006): 211–39. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “French Rococo Prints and Eighteenth-Century Altarpieces in Buenos Aires.” The Burlington Magazine 1316, CLIV (November, 2012): 782–8. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “The Jesuits and the Non-Spanish Contribution to South American Colonial Architecture.” In Hilmar M. Pabel and Kathleen M. Comerford, eds, Early Modern Catholicism: Essays In Honour of John O’Malley (Toronto, 2001): 211–40. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “‘Just Like the Gesù:’ Sebastiano Serlio, Giacomo Vignola, and Jesuit Architecture in South America.” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu LXX, 140 (July–December, 2001): 233–64. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “‘Le style jésuite n’existe pas:’ Jesuit Corporate Culture and the Visual Arts.” In John W. O’Malley et al., eds, The Jesuits: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts (Toronto, 1999): 38–89.

378 The Spiritual Rococo

Bailey, Gauvin Alexander. “The Synthesis of East and West in the Ottoman Architecture of the Tulip Period,” Oriental Art XLVIII, 4 (Winter 2002): 2–13. Bailey, Gauvin Alexander, and Fernando Guzmán. “The Rococo Altarpiece of Saint Ignatius: Chile’s Grandest Colonial Retable Rediscovered,” The Burlington Magazine CLXV (December 2013): 815-820). Bailey, Gauvin Alexander, and Fernando Guzmán. “The ‘Saint Sebastian’ of Los Andes: A Chilean Cultural Treasure Re-examined,” The Burlington Magazine CLIII (November 2011): 721–6. Ballot, Marie-Juliette. Le décor intérieur au XVIIIe siècle dans la région parisienne. Paris, 1930. Baptista, J, and Philip Caraman. “Primoli, Giovanni Battista.” In Charles E. O’Neill and Joaquín M. Domínguez, Diccionario histórico de la Compañía de Jesús (Rome and Madrid, 2001): IV, 3232. Barbier, Antoine-Alexandre. Dictionnaire des ouvrages anonymes. Paris, 1823. Bargellini, Clara. “Difusión de modelos: grabados y pinturas flamencos e italianos en territorios americanos.” In Juana Gutiérrez Haces, ed., Pintura de los Reinos: Identidades Compartidas. Territorios del Mundo Hispánico, siglos XVI–XVIII (Madrid, 2010): 964–1007. Barker, Emma. Greuze and the Painting of Sentiment. Cambridge, 2005. Barker, Emma. “Mme Geoffrin, Painting and Galanterie: Carle Van Loo’s Conversation espagnole and Lecture espagnole,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 40, 4 (Summer 2007): 587–614. Barocchi, Paola. Trattati d’arte del Cinquecento. Bari, 1961. Barreiros, Maria Helena. “Urban Landscapes: Houses, Streets and Squares of 18th Century Lisbon.” In Riitta Laitinen and Thomas V. Cohen eds, Cultural History of Early Modern European Streets (Leiden, 2009): 11–38. Bartolomé, Miguel Alberto. Chamanismo y religion entre los Ava-Katu-Ete. Asunción, 1991. Batllori, M. “Gracián y Morales, Baltasar,” in O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario II, 1796–97. Bauer, Hermann. Rocaille. Zur Herkunft und zum Wesen eines Ornament-motivs. Berlin, 1962. Bauer, Hermann. “Zur Bedeutung der Wieskirche.” In Petzet, Die Wies, 73–80. Bauer, Hermann, et al. Johann Baptist und Dominikus Zimmermann. Regensburg, 1985. Bauer, Hermann, and Anna Bauer. Klöster in Bayern: eine Kunst- und Kulturgeschichte. Munich, 1993. Bauer, Hermann, Bernhard Rupprecht, et al. Corpus der barocken Deckenmalerei in Deutschland, 12 vols. Munich, 1976–. Bauer, Hermann, and Hans Sedlmayr. Rokoko: Struktur und Wesen einer europäischen Epoche. Cologne, 1992. Bauer, Hermann, and Wolf-Christian von der Mülbe. Barocke Deckenmalerei in Süddeutschland. Munich and Berlin, 2000. Baur-Heinhold, Margarete. Süddeutsche Fassadenmalerei. Munich, 1952.

Bibliography 379

Bayón, Damián, and Murilo Marx. History of South American Colonial Art and Architecture. New York, 1992. Bazin, Germain. L’architecture religieuse baroque au Brésil. II vols. Paris, 1956. Beales, Derek. Prosperity and Plunder: European Catholic Monasteries in the Age of Revolution. Cambridge, 2003. Béchu, Philippe, and Christian Taillard. Les hôtels de Soubise et de Rohan-Strasbourg. Paris, 2004. Beck, Otto. Pfarr- und Wallfahrtskirche Maria-Thann. Regensburg, 1995. Beck, Otto. Wallfahrtskirche Steinhausen. Regensburg, 2004. Bédard, Jean-François. Decorative Games: Ornament, Rhetoric, and Noble Culture in the Work of Gilles-Marie Oppenord, 1672–1742. Lanham, MD, 2011. Belting, Hans. Likeness and Presence: A History of the Image before the Era of Art. Chicago and London, 1994. Benton, Tim, and Nicola Durbridge. “‘O Aleijadinho’: Sculptor and Architect.” In Catherine King, ed., Views of Difference: Different Views of Art (New Haven, 1999): 143–77. Berckenhagen, Eckhart. Die Französische Zeichnungen der Kunstbibliothek Berlin. Berlin, 1970. Bernier, Marc-André. “L’exposition dans le Traité philosophique et pratique d’éloquence.” In Edith Flamarion, ed., La chair et le verbe: les jésuites de France du XVIIIe siècle et l’image (Paris, 2008): 98–102. Beylard, H, and D.M. Price. “Frey de Neuville, Charles.” In O’Neill and Dominguez, Diccionario II, 1526–27. Beylard, H. “Buffier, Claude.” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario I, 567–8. Blackburn, Robin. The Making of New World Slavery. London and New York, 1997. Bleibrunner, Hans. Andachtsbilder aus Altbayern. Munich, 1971. Blom, Philipp. Wicked Company: Freethinkers and Friendship in Pre-Revolutionary Paris. London, 2011. Blunt, Anthony. Art and Architecture in France 1500–1700. New Haven and London, 1999. Boge, Birgit, and Ralf Georg Bogner, Oratio Funebris: Die katholische Leichenpredigt der frühen Neuzeit. Amsterdam and Atlanta, 1999. Bonazzi da Costa, Mozart Alberto. A talha ornamental barroca na igreja conventual franciscana de Salvador. Sao Paulo, 2010. Borralho, Maria Luísa Malato. “Teodoro de Almeida.” In Luís de Oliveira Ramos et al, eds, Estudios em homenagem a João Francisco Marques I (Porto, 2001): 213–17. Borricand, René. Les hôtels particuliers d’Aix-en-Provence. Aix-en-Provence, 1971. Boscarino, Salvatore. Sicilia Barocca: architettura e città 1610–1760. Rome, 1997. Boschi, Caio César. Os leigos e o poder: irmandades leigas e política colonizadora em Minas Gerais. São Paulo, 1986. Boschloo, A.W.A. Annibale Carracci in Bologna. Visible Reality in Art after the Council of Trent. The Hague, 1974.

380 The Spiritual Rococo

Bösel, Richard. “L’architettura sacra di Pozzo a Vienna.” In Alberta Battisti ed., Andrea Pozzo (Milan and Trent, 1996): 161–77. Bouvier, Raphaël. “Jeff Koons’ Christ and the Lamb: Spiegelung as Erbauung.” In Kunsttexte.de 2 (2010): 1–9. Boxer, C.R. The Golden Age of Brazil. Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1962. Brandão, Angela. “Dom Frei Domingos da Encarnação Pontével: um exemplo de mecenato diocesano.” Revista electronica de história do Brasil, 9, 2 (July–December 2007): 4–15. Braun, Emanuel, et al. Johann Evangelist Holzer: Maler des Lichts. Augsburg, 2010. Braun, J. Die Kirchenbauten der deutschen Jesuiten. Freiburg im Breisgau, 1910. Braunfels, Wolfgang. François Cuvilliés: Der Baumeister der Galanten Architektur des Rokoko. Munich, 1986. Bremer-David, Charissa. “About Time: The Hours of the Day in Eighteenth-Century Paris.” In Charissa Bremer-David, ed., Paris: Life & Luxury in the Eighteenth Century (Los Angeles, 2011): 11–32. Bremond, Henri. Histoire littéraire du sentiment religieux en France. V vols. Paris, 1923. Bruant, Yves. “Un grand collectionneur, marchand et graveur … Gabriel Huquier.” Gazette des Beaux-Arts 6, 37 (July–Sept 1950): 99–108. Brum, José Zephyrino de Menezes. Estampas gravadas por Guilherme Francisco Lourenço Debrie. Rio de Janeiro, 1908. Bryson, Norman. Word and Image: French Painting of the Ancien Régime. Cambridge, 1981. Buck, Ingeborg Maria. Katholische Pfarr- und Wallfahrtskirche Maria Steinbach. Lindenburg, 1998. Burns, E. Bradford. “The Enlightenment in two Colonial Brazilian Libraries,” Journal of the History of Ideas 25, 3 (July–September 1964): 430–38. Burson, Jeffrey D. “The Catholic Enlightenment in France from the Fin de Siècle Crisis of Consciousness to the Revolution, 1650–1789.” In Ulrich L. Lehner and Michael O’Neill Printy, eds, A Companion to the Catholic Enlightenment in Europe (Leiden, 2010): 63–126. Bury, J.B. “Late Baroque and Rococo in North Portugal,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 15, 3 (October, 1956): 7–15. Buschiazzo, Mario J. Historia de la arquitectura colonial en Iberoamérica. Buenos Aires, 1961. Buschiazzo, Mario J. La estancia jesuítica de Santa Catalina. Buenos Aires, 1940. Büttner, Frank. “Ikonographie des Bibliothekssaals in der ehemaligen Benediktinerabtei Wiblingen.” In Martin Mádl et al., eds, Baroque Ceiling Painting in Central Europe (Prague, 2007): 117–30. Calafate, Pedro. “La question de la méthode portuguaise et de la métode française de predication au XVIIIe siècle au Portugal.” In Saulo Neiva, ed., La France et le monde luso-brésilien (Clermont-Ferrand, 2005): 335–45. Calasso, Roberto. Tiepolo Pink. London, 2010.

Bibliography 381

Candel, Jules. Les prédicateurs français dans la première moitié du XVIIIe siècle: de la régence a l’encyclopédie. Paris, 1904. Cañizares-Esguerra, Jorge. How to Write a History of the New World. Stanford, 2001. Caraman, Philip. “Bianchi (Blanqui), Giovanni Andrea.” In O’Neill and Dominguez, Diccionario, I, 436. Caraman, Philip, and C.J. McNaspy. “Sepp von Reinegg, Anton.” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario IV, 3555–6. Cardozo, Manoel S. “The Lay Brotherhoods of Colonial Bahia.” Catholic Historical Review 33: 1 (April 1947): 12–30. Carvalho, J Vaz de. “Viera, António.” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario IV, 3950. Castelli, A. “La importancia de la imprenta Plantin para la América Colonial,” Histórica XX/2 (1996): 313–22. Caumont, August de. En marge de l’academie. Paris, 1962. Ceballos, Rodgríguez G. de. El siglo XVIII: entre tradición y academia. Madrid, 1992. Cevallos García, Gabriel. Arte Colonial en Ecuador. Quito, 1985. Charbonneau, Frédéric ed. L’art d’écrire la science: anthologie de textes savants du XVIIIe siècle français. Rennes, 2006. Chastel, André. L’Art français: ancien régime 1620–1775. Paris, 2000. Cholvy, Gérard. “Les peuples de France entre religion et révolution (1760–1830).” In J. Martin, ed., Religion et Révolution (Paris 1994): 11–24. Christiansen, Keith. Tiepolo. New York, 1996. Ciudad de Buenos Aires I. Buenos Aires, 1998. Ciudad de Buenos Aires II II vols (Buenos Aires, 2006): II. “Claudio Manoel da Costa (Noticia biographica).” Revista do Archivo Publico Mineiro I, 2 (April–June 1896): 357–99. Coello de la Rosa, Alexandre. El pregonero de Dios: Diego Martínez, SJ, misionero jesuita del Perú colonial. Valladolid, 2010. Coffin, David R. The Villa in the Life of Renaissance Rome. Princeton, 1979. Collins, James B. The State in Early Modern France. Cambridge, 1995. Conisbee, Philip, et al. French Paintings of the Fifteenth through the Eighteenth Century. Washington, 2009. Courtin, Nicolas. Paris au XVIIIe siècle: entre fantaisie rocaille et renouveau classique. Paris, 2013. Courtine, Jacques, and Claudine Haroche. “Présentation.” In Abbé Dinouart, L’art de se taire (Jean-Jacques Courtine and Claudine Haroche eds., Grenoble, 1987): 5–32. Cracraft, James. The Petrine Revolution in Russian Architecture. Chicago, 1988. Craveri, Benedetta. The Age of Conversation (Teresa Waugh, trans.). New York, 2005. Cross, F.L., and E.A. Livingstone. The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. Oxford, 1997.

382 The Spiritual Rococo

Cruz de Amenabar, Isabel, and Graciela M. Viñuales. “La pintura en Chile y en el virreinato del Río de La Plata.” In Ramón Gutiérrez, ed., Pintura, Escultura, y Artes Útiles en Iberoamérica, 1500–1825 (Madrid, 1995): 177–88. Cueille, Sophie. Le domaine de Rambouillet. Paris, 2010. Dance, Peter. A History of Shell Collecting. London, 1969. Dantas Silva, Leonardo. Pernambuco preservado. Recife, 2002. Davidson, Gail S. “Emulation and Subversion: Nineteenth-Century Rococo Revivals in the Graphic Arts.” In Sarah D. Coffin et al., eds, Rococo: the Continuing Curve (New York, 2008): 168–79. Dehio, Georg. Handbuch der deutschen Kunstdenkmäler, Bayern IV. Munich and Berlin, 2006. DeJean, Joan. “A New Interiority: The Architecture of Privacy in Eighteenth-Century Paris.” In Bremer-David, Paris: Life & Luxury, 33. Delaforce, Angela. “Lisbon, ‘This New Rome’: Dom João V of Portugal and Relations between Rome and Lisbon.” In Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 49–80. Delaforce, Angela. Art and Patronage in Eighteenth-Century Portugal. Cambridge, 2002. Démoris, René. “Boucher, Diderot, Rousseau.” In Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, eds, Rethinking Boucher (Los Angeles, 2006): 201–28. Detjen, Claus. Arlesheim Cathedral. Regensburg, 2000. Díaz, Marco. La arquitectura de los Jesuitas en Nueva España. Mexico City, 1982. Dictionnaire des églises de France IV. Paris, 1968. Donnell, Edna. “Juste Aurèle Meissonnier and the Rococo Style,” Bulletin of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (December, 1941): 254–60. Donnelly, J.P. “Bourdaloue, Louis.” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario I, 508–9. Döring, Heinrich. Die gelehrten Theologen Deutschlands im achtzehnten und neunzehnten Jahrhundert. Neustadt, 1835. Drėma, Vladas. Vilniaus Bažnyčios. Vilnius, 2008. Drexel, Hermann. “Das Votivbild as Massenware.” In Inge Praxmarer and Hermann Drexel, eds, “Als ich in shwerer angst gestanden” Votivbilder aus Tirol (Innsbruck and Vienna, 1998): 46–77. Duhr, Bernhard. Geschichte der Jesuiten in den Länden deutscher Zunge im 18. Jahrhundert. Munich and Regensburg, 1928. Dülmen, Richard van. Propst Franziskus Töpsl (1711–1796) und das AugustinerChorherrenstift Polling: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der katholischen Aufklärung in Bayern. Kallmünz, 1967. Dumoulin, Aline et al. Paris d’église en église. Paris, 2008. Duncan, Carol. “Happy Mothers and Other New Ideas in French Art,” Art Bulletin CV, 4 (1973): 570–83. Dupuy-Vachey, Marie-Anne. Fragonard. Paris, 2006. Duran, Maria Renata da Cruz. Ecos do pulpito: oratório sagrada no tempo de D. João VI. Sao Paulo, 2010.

Bibliography 383

Durand, Carroll. “The Apogee of Perspective in the Theatre: Ferdinando Bibiena’s Scena per angolo,” Theatre Research International 13 (1988): 21–9. Earle, Rebecca. “Letters and Love in Colonial Spanish America,” The Americas 62, 1 (July 2005): 17–46. Ebyl, Franz M. “Konfession und Buchwesen. Augsburgs Druck- und Handelsmonopol für katholische Predigtliteratur, insbesondere im 18. Jahrhundert.” In Helmut Gier and Johannes Janota, eds, Augsburger Buchdruck und Verlagswesen von den Anfängen bis zur Gegenwart (Wiesbaden, 1997): 643. Echenique, Javier González. Arte colonial en Chile. Santiago, 1978. Edgerton, Samuel Y. Theaters of Conversion: Religious Architecture and Indian Artisans in Colonial Mexico. Albuquerque, 2001. Edmunds, Martha Mel. “Gabriel’s Altar for the Palace Chapel at Versailles,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 65, 4 (December 2006): 550–77. Edwards, O.C. Jr. “Varieties of Sermon: A Survey of Preaching in the Long Eighteenth Century.” In Joris van Eijnatten, Preaching, Sermon and Cultural Change in the Long Eighteenth Century (Leiden, 2009): 3–56. Ehrard, Jean. Littérature française: le XVIIIe siècle I, 1720–1750. Paris, 1974. Epple, Alois, and Josef Straßer. Die Gemälde Johann Georg Bergmüller 1688–1762. Lindenberg im Allgäu, 2012. Estabridis Cárdenas, Ricardo. “La escultura en Trujillo.” In Colección arte y tesoros del Perú: Escultura en el Perú (Lima, 1999): 135–90. Etlin, Richard. Symbolic Space: French Enlightenment Architecture and its Legacy. Chicago, 1994. Fajardo de Rueda, M. “Del grabado europeo a la pintura americana,” Historelo 3/5 (2011): 191–214. Fastiggi, Robert L. The Natural Theology of Yves de Paris, 1588–1678. Atlanta, 1991. Fellöcker, Sigmund. Geschichte der Sternwarte der Benedictiner-Abtei Kremsmünster. Linz, 1864. Ferrari Peña, Claudio A. “La influencia de los jesuitas bávaros en la arquitectura y el arte chilenos del siglo XVIII.” Symposium internazionale sul barocco latino americano (Rome, 1980): 200–25. Ferreyra Alvarez, Avelino. Catálogo de la Biblioteca del Convento de la Merced siglos XVIXVII-XVIII. Córdoba, 1952. Feuer, Lewis. Spinoza and the Rise of Liberalism. Boston, 1958. Fitz-Gerald, Desmond. Juste Aurèle Meissonnier and Others. New York and Phoenix, 1963. Forster, Marc R. Catholic Revival in the Age of the Baroque: Religious Identity in Southwest Germany, 1550–1750. Cambridge, 2001. França, José Augusto. Lisboa Pombalina e o Iluminismo. Lisbon, 1983. França, José Augusto. “Lisbon the Enlightened City of the Marques de Pombal.” In Jay Levenson, The Age of the Baroque in Portugal, 133–7. Francastel, Pierre. “L’esthétique des lumières.” In Pierre Francastel, ed., Utopie et institutions au XVIIIe. siècle. Le pragmatism des lumières (Paris, 1963): 335–57.

384 The Spiritual Rococo

Fraschini, Alfredo Eduardo, and Luís Ángel Sánchez. Index Librorum Bibliothecae Collegii Maximi Cordubensis Societatis Iesu, 1757. Buenos Aires, 2003. Fried, Michael. Absorption and Theatricality, Painting and Beholder in the Age of Diderot. Chicago, 1980. Fried, Michael. Manet’s Modernism: Or, the Face of Painting in the 1860s. Chicago, 1996. Fuhring, Peter. Designing the Décor: French Drawings from the Eighteenth Century. Lisbon, 2006. Fuhring, Peter. “Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier and his Patrons.” In Sarah D. Coffin et al., eds, Rococo: the Continuing Curve, 22–39. Fuhring, Peter. Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier: un génie du Rococo II vols. Turin and London, 1999. Fumaroli, Marc. “Baroque et Classicisme: l’Imago Primi Saeculi Societatis Jesu (1640) et ses adversaires.” In Marc Fumaroli, L’école du silence: la sentiment des images au XVIIe siècle (Paris, 1998): 445–77. Fumaroli, Marc. “Between the Rigorist Hammer and the Deist Anvil: The Fate of the Jesuits in Eighteenth-Century France.” In John W. O’Malley et al., eds. The Jesuits II: Cultures, Sciences and the Arts (Toronto, 2006): 684–5. Fumaroli, Marc. “The Fertility and Shortcomings of Renaissance Rhetoric: The Jesuit Case.” In John O’Malley et al., eds. The Jesuits: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts (Toronto, 1999): 90–106. Fumaroli, Marc. “Louis-Antoine de Caraccioli (1721–1803) et l’Europe française,” Commentaire 91 (Autumn 2000): 615–29. Fumaroli, Marc. Quand l’Europe parlait Français. Paris, 2001. Fumaroli, Marc. “Retour à l’antique: la guerre des gouts dans l’Europe des Lumières.” In Guillaume Faroult et al. eds, L’antiquité rêvée (Paris, 2010): 23–56. Furlong, Guillermo. Arquitectos argentinos durante la dominación hispánica. Buenos Aires, 1946. Furlong, Guillermo. Artesanos argentinos durante la dominación hispánica. Buenos Aires, 1946. Furlong, Guillermo. Bibliotecas argentinas durante la dominación hispánica. Buenos Aires, 1944. Furlong, Guillermo. El trasplante cultural: arte. Buenos Aires, 1969. Furlong, Guillermo. Misiones y sus pueblos de Guaranies. Buenos Aires, 1962. Gady, Alexandre. Les hôtels particuliers de Paris. Paris, 2008. Gallas, Disperati Fernanda, and Alfredo O.G. Gallas. O barroco do reinado de D. João V: arquitetura, moedas e medalhas. Sao Paulo, 2012. Gallet, Michel. “Quelques Étapes Du Rococo Dans L’architecture Parisienne,” Gazette Des Beaux-arts, 67 (March 1966): 145–68. García Sáiz, M.C. “La interpretación de los modelos europeos en las artes de tradición indígena.” In A. Bustamante García et al., eds. Felipe II y el Arte de su Tiempo (Madrid 1999): 293–303. Garnier-Pelle, Nicole, Anne Forray-Carlier, and Marie-Christine Anselm. Singeries & exotisme chez Christophe Huet. Saint-Rémy-en-L’eau, 2010.

Bibliography 385

Garrioch, David. The Making of Revolutionary Paris. Berkeley and London, 2002. Gaukroger, Stephen. “Introduction.” In Antoine Arnauld, On True and False Ideas, Stephen Gaukroger, trans. and ed. (Manchester 1990): 1–42. Géhanne Gavoty, Stéphanie. “Le mythe des Lumières à propos d’un ‘anti-Lumières’ Clement XIV revu et corrigé.” In Jan Herman et al., eds, Les philosophes et leurs papes (Amsterdam, New York, 2009): 215–30. Geiss, Rudolf. Katholische Pfarrkirche St. Georg und Florian Reicholzried. Munich and Zurich, 1989. Genovese-Oeyen, Stella. Buenos Aires Colonial: Arquitectura Jesuitica del Siglo XVIII: La iglesia de San Ignacio. Buenos Aires, 1946. Gevrey, François et al. “Avant-propos.” In François Gevrey, Julie Boch, Jean-Louis Haquette, eds, Écrire la nature au XVIIIe siècle (Paris, 2006): 7–14. Gier, Helmut. “Buchdruck und Verlagswesen in Augsburg vom Dreißigjährigen Krieg bus zum Ende der Reichsstadt.” In Gier and Janota, Augsburger Buchdruck, 479–516. Gier, Helmut. “Die Stapelstadt der katholischen Buchhandlung in Deutschland.” Zeitscrift des historischen Vereins für Schwaben 101 (2007): 151–70. Gijswijt-Hofstra, Marijke. Witchcraft and Magic in Europe V: The Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries. London, 1999. Gil Tovar, Francisco. “La versión virreinal del rococó.” In Manuel Salvat, ed., Historia del arte colombiano V (Barcelona and Bogota, 1977): 1001–18. Giuria, Juan. La arquitectura en el Paraguay. Buenos Aires, 1950. Glotz, Marguerite and Madeleine Maire. Salons du XVIIIe siècle. Paris: 1949. Gnadenreiches Jesulein: Jesuskindverehrung in der Andachtsgraphik. Vienna, 1998. Goldner, Johannes, and Lisa and Wilfried Bahnmüller. Wessobrunner Stukkatorenschule. Freilassing, 1992. Gomes, Paulo Varela. A Cultura Arquitectônica e Artística em Portugal no século XVIII. Lisbon, 1988. González. Ondina E., and Justo L. González. Christianity in Latin America: A History. Cambridge, 2008. González, Ricardo. “El culto público.” In Ricardo González et al., Arte, culto e ideas: Buenos Aires, Siglo XVIII (Buenos Aires, 1999): 49–80. González, Ricardo. “El retablo mayor de San Ignacio de Buenos Aires.” In II Jornadas del Instituto de Arte Argentino y americano (Buenos Aires, 2004): 1–7. González, Ricardo. “Los retablos de la Catedral de Buenos Aires,” Anales del Instituto de Arte Argentino y Americano Mario Buschiazzo 39 (2005–2006): 1–19. González, Ricardo. “Los retablos mayores de Buenos Aires.” In Facultad de Filosofía y Letras de la Universidad de Buenos Aires, Memorias de las III Jornadas del Instituto Julio Payró (Buenos Aires, 1998): 1–16. Goodman, Dena. “Enlightenment Salons: The Convergence of Female and Philosophic Ambitions,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 22, 3 (Spring 1989): 329–50. Goodman, Dena. The Republic of Letters: A Cultural History of the French Enlightenment. Cornell, 1996.

386 The Spiritual Rococo

Goodman, Elise. The Portraits of Madame Pompadour: Celebrating the Femme Savante. Berkeley and Los Angeles, 2000. Goodman, John. “Jansenism, Parlementaire Politics and Dissidence in the Art of Eighteenth-Century Paris: The Case of the Restout Family,” Oxford Art Journal 18, 1 (1995): 74–95. Gordon, Alden R. “Le mécénat artistique de la Marquise de Pompadour et du Marquis de Marigny.” In Penelope Hunter-Stiebel et al., La volupté du gout: la peinture française au temps de Madame de Pompadour (Paris, 2008): 38–57. Gordon, Alden R. “A Rare Engraving of an Italian Rococo Parade Apartment of 1736: Andrea Bolzoni’s Print of the Interior of the Palazzo Cervelli in Ferrara,” Getty Research Journal 4 (2012): 57–74. Gordon-Smith, Maria. “Jean Pillement at the Imperial Court of Maria Theresa and Francis I in Vienna (1763 to 1765),” Artibus et Historiae 25, 50 (2004): 187–213. Goré, Jeanne-Lydie. L’itinéraire de Fénelon: humanisme et spiritualité. Paris, 1957. Gouzi, Christine. Jean Restout, 1692–1768: Peintre d’histoire à Paris. Paris, 2000. Grabar, Oleg. The Mediation of Ornament. Princeton, 1992. Grammont, Giomar de. Aleijadinho e o aeroplano – O paraíso Barroco e a construção do herói colonial. Rio de Janeiro, 2008. Grassi, Marie-Claire. “Introduction.” In Antoine de Courtin, Nouveau traité de la civilité qui se pratique en France parmi les honnête gens (Clermont-Ferrand, 1998): 11–48. Greve, Ernesto. Historia de la Ingeniería en Chile. Santiago, 1938. Guarda, Gabriel. Iglesias de Chiloé. Santiago, 1984. Guedes, Natália Brito Correia. O palácio dos senhores do infantado em Queluz. Lisbon, 1971. Guilmard, Désiré. Les maîtres ornemanistes: dessinateurs, peintures, architectes, sculpteurs et graveurs: Écoles français, italienne, allemande et des Pays-Bas II vols. Paris, 1880. Gut, Rudolf, and Kurt Lussi. Quellen der Kraft: die Wallfahrtskapellen von Ruswil. Lindenberg, 2002. Gutiérrez, Ramón. Evolución urbanística y arquitectónica del Paraguay, 1537–1911. Resistencia, 1977. Gutiérrez, Ramón. “Los circuitos de la obra de arte. Artistas, mecenas, comitentes, usuarios, y comerciantes.” In Gutiérrez, Pintura, Escultura, y Artes Útiles, 51–82 Gutiérrez, Ramón, ed. Alemanes en la arquitectura argentina. Buenos Aires, 2010. Gutjahr, Paul C. An American Bible: A History of the Good Book in the United States, 1777–1880. Stanford, 1999. Guzmán, Fernando. Representaciones del Paraíso: Retablos en Chile, siglos XVIII y XIX. Santiago, 2009. Hager, Werner. Die Bauten des Deutschen Barocks. Jena, 1942. Haidt, Rebecca. Seduction and Sacrilege: Rhetorical Power in Fray Gerundio de Campazas. Cranbury, 2002. Hall, Marcia. The Sacred Image in the Age of Art. New Haven and London, 2011.

Bibliography 387

Hammond, Frederick. “The Creation of a Roman Festival: Barberini Celebrations for Christina of Sweden.” In Maria Giulia Barberini et al., Life and the Arts in the Baroque Palaces of Rome (New Haven and London, 1999): 54–7. Hamon, Françoise. “Les églises parisiennes du XVIIIe siècle. Théorie et pratique de l’architecture cultuelle,” Revue de l’art 32 (1976): 7–14. Hanisch Espíndola, Walter. “Calera de Tango, cuna industrial de Chile,” Boletín de la Academia Chilena de la Historia 93 (1982): 159–89. Hanisch Espíndola, Walter. “El P Carlos Haimbhausen SJ precursor de la industria chilena,” Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte von Staat, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft Lateinamerikas 10 (1973): 133–206. Hanisch Espíndola, Walter. Historia de la Compañía de Jesús en Chile. Santiago, 1974. Harbison, Robert. Reflections on Baroque. Chicago, 2000. Harries, Karsten. The Bavarian Rococo Church: Between Faith and Aestheticism. New Haven and London, 1983. Harries, Karsten. The Broken Frame, Three Lectures. Washington, 1989. Hauser, Arnold. The Social History of Art III vols. New York, 1951. Heckscher, Morrison H., and Leslie Greene Bowman. American Rococo, 1750–1775: Elegance in Ornament. New York, 1992. Heisner, Beverly. “The Rococo: Art Terminology and Aesthetic Prejudices,” Southeastern College Art Conference Review 10, 5 (1985): 259–64. Helke, G.D. Johann Esaias Nilson (1721–1788): Augsburger Miniaturmaler, Kupferstecher, verleger und Kunstakademiedirektor. Munich, 2005. Hellmann, Mimi. “Enchanted Night: Decoration, Sociability, and Visuality after Dark.” In Bremer-David, Paris: Life & Luxury, 91–114. Hellman, Mimi. “Furniture, Sociability, and the Work of Leisure in EighteenthCentury France,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 32, 4 (1999): 415–45. Hempel, Eberhard. Baroque Art and Architecture in Central Europe. Harmondsworth, 1965. Herrera García, Francisco Javier. El retablo sevillano en la primera mitad del siglo XVIII. Seville, 2001. Hertel, Christiane. Pygmalion in Bavaria: the Sculptor Ignaz Günther and EighteenthCentury Aesthetic Art Theory. University Park, 2011. Higgins, Kathleen J. Licentious Liberty in a Brazilian Gold-Mining Region. University Park, 1999. Hitchcock, Henry-Russell. German Rococo: The Zimmermann Brothers. Baltimore, 1968. Hitchcock, Henry-Russell. Rococo Architecture in Southern Germany. London, 1968. Hobson, Marian. The Object of Art: The Theory of Illusion in Eighteenth-Century France. Cambridge, 1982. Hofer, Sigfrid. Studien zur Stuckausstattung im frühen 18. Jahrhundert. Munich and Berlin, 1987. Hojer, Gerhard et al. Nymphenburg: Palace, Park and Pavilions. Munich, 2009. Höltgen, Karl Josef. Aspects of the Emblem: Studies in the English Emblem Tradition and the European Context. Kassel, 1986.

388 The Spiritual Rococo

Holz, Sabine. “On Sermons and Daily Life.” In Eijnatten, Preaching, 263–312. Hösch, Karin. Basilika Wilten-Innsbruck. Passau, 2000. Hunter-Stiebel, Penelope. “Art Nouveau.” In Coffin, Rococo, the Continuing Curve, 207–17. Hunter-Stiebel, Penelope. “The Continuing Curve.” In Coffin, Rococo: The Continuing Curve, 2–11. Hunter-Stiebel, Penelope. “A Royal Taste: Louis XV, 1738,” Metropolitan Museum Journal 7 (1973): 89–113. Hyde, Melissa. Making Up the Rococo: François Boucher and his Critics. Los Angeles, 2006. Hyde, Melissa. “Rococo Redux: From the Style Moderne of the Eighteenth Century to Art Nouveau.” In Coffin, Rococo: The Continuing Curve, 12–21. Hyde, Melissa, and Mark Ledbury. “The Pleasures of Rethinking François Boucher.” In Hyde and Ledbury, Rethinking Boucher, 1–12. Hyde, Melissa, and Katie Scott, eds., Rococo echo: art, theory and historiography from Cochin to Coppola. Oxford, 2015. Hyde, Melissa, and Mark Ledbury, eds. Rethinking Boucher. Los Angeles, 2006. Irmscher, Günther. “Style rocaille,” Barockberichte 51/52 (2009): 339–414. Jacobson, Dawn. Chinoiserie. London, 1993. Jacquart, Jean ed. L’abbé Trublet, critique et moraliste, 1697–1770: D’après des documents inédits. Paris 1926. Jacques, Martine. “L.-A. Caraccioli et son oeuvre: la mesure d’une avancée de la pensée chrétienne vers les lumières,” Dix-huitieme siècle 34 (2002): 289–302. Jacques, Martine. “Le lieu et l’idée: typologie des décors dans l’oeuvre romanesque de L.-A. Caraccioli.” In Nathalie Ferrand, ed., Locus in fabula: la topique de l’espace dans les fictions françaises d’Ancien Régime (Louvain, 2004): 583–95. Jardim, Márcio et al. O Aleijadinho: Catálogo geral da obra, inventário das coleções públicas e particulares. Sao Paulo, 2011. Jocher, Norbert. “Matthäus Günther und seine Stukkatoren: zur Beziehung Ornament und Bild.” In T. Falk et al., eds, Matthäus Günther 1705–1788 (Munich, 1988): 170–77. Jones, Pamela. Federico Borromeo and the Ambrosiana. Cambridge, 1993. Jorge, Fernando. O Aleijadinho: sua vida, sua obra, sua época, seu gênio. Sao Paulo, 1949. Joulie, Françoise. “Sujets religieux et derniers dessins.” In Françoise Joulie and JeanFrançois Méjanès, eds. François Boucher hier et aujourd’hui (Paris, 2003): 132–42. Júnior, Delson Aguinaldo de Araujo. “Estampas como inspiração para a pintura em Minas Gerais.” In V Encontro de história da arte – IFCH/UNICAMP (2009): 144–57. Júnior, Rubem Amaral. “Emblematica Mariana no Convento de São Francisco de Salvador, Bahia, e seus modelos europeus,” Lumen et Virtus I/3 (2010): 107–30. Kale, Steven. French Salons: High Society and Political Sociability from the Old Regime to the Revolution of 1848. Baltimore, 2004. Kalina, Pavel. Benedikt Ried: a počátky záalpské renesance. Prague, 2009. Kalina, Pavel. “In opera gotico unicus: the Hybrid Architecture of Jan Blažej SantiniAichl and Patterns of Memory in Post-Reformation Bohemia,” Uměni LVIII (2010): 42–56.

Bibliography 389

Kalnein, Wend von. Architecture in France in the Eighteenth Century. New Haven and London, 1995. Karraker, D. Gene. Looking at European Frames: a Guide to Terms, Styles, and Techniques. Los Angeles, 2009. Kavanagh, Thomas M. “Painting for the Senses: Boucher and Epicurean Stoicism.” In Melissa Hyde and Mark Ledbury, eds, Rethinking Boucher, 253–68. Kazerouni, Giullaume et al. Peintures françaises du XVIIIe des églises de Paris. Paris, 2010. Kelley, Theresa M. “Visual Suppressions, Emblems, and the ‘Sister Arts,’” EighteenthCentury Studies 17, 1 (Autumn, 1983): 28–60. Kennedy, George Alexander, et al., eds. The Cambridge History of Literary Criticism: The Eighteenth Century. Cambridge, 1997. Kennedy Troya, Alejandra. “La escultura en el virreinato de Nueva Granada y la audiencia de Quito.” In Ramón Gutiérrez, ed., Pintura, escultura y artes útiles en Iberoamérica, 1500–1825 (Madrid, 1995): 237–56. Kerber, Peter Björn. “Perfectibility and its Foreign Causes: Reading for Self-Improvement in Eighteenth-Century Paris.” In Bremer-David, Paris: Life & Luxury, 75–90. Kimball, Fiske. The Creation of the Rococo. Philadelphia, 1943. Kirchmeir, Georg, and Margret Hasenmüller. Die Wies. Lechbruck, 2006. Kisner, Matthew J. “Rationalism and Method.” In Alan Nelson, A Companion to Rationalism (Oxford, 2005): 137–55. Klajumienė, Dalia. XVIII a. Sienų Tapyba: Lietuvos Bažnyčių Architektūroje. Vilnius, 2004. Knedlik, Manfred, and Georg Schrott. Anselm Desing (1699–1772): ein benediktinischer Universalgelehrter im Zeitalter der Aufklärung. Kallmünz 1999. Kolb, Nanette and Raimund. Franz Joseph Spiegler: Kostbarkeiten barocker Malerei 1691–1757. Passau, 1991. Krins, Hubert. Barock in Süddeutschland. Stuttgart, 2001. Krull, Ebba. Franz Xaver Habermann (1721–1796): ein Augsburger Ornamentist des Rokoko. Augsburg, 1977. Kubler, George, and Martín Soría. Art and Architecture in Spain and Portugal and their American Dominions 1500–1800. Baltimore, 1959. Kustatscher, Erika. Die Deutschordenspfarre Sarnthein (Tappeiner, 1996): 221. La Iglesia del Pilar. Buenos Aires, 1945. Ladurie, Emmanuel le Roy. The Ancien Régime: A History of France, 1610–1774. Oxford, 1998. Laing, Alistair. “Boucher et la pastorale peinte,” Revue de l’art (1986/1): 55–64. Laing, Alastair. “French Ornamental Engravings and the Diffusion of the Rococo.” In Henri Zerner, ed., Le stampe e la diffusione delle immagini e degli stili (Bologna, 1983): 109–27. Laing, Alastair. “German Drawings.” In Drawings for Architecture, Design and Ornament: The James A. De Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor (Aylesbury, 2006) II, 614–76.

390 The Spiritual Rococo

Lamb, Carl. Die Wies. Munich, 1964. Landry, Madeleine, and Robert Derome. L’art sacré en Amérique française. Quebec City, 2005. Landwehr, John. Emblem Books in the Low Countries, 1554–1949: A Bibliography. Utrecht, 1970. Langlois, Claude. “Démographie céleste et révolution théologique chez NicolasSylvestre Bergier,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 267–76. Larkin, Brian. The Very Nature of God: Baroque Catholicism and Religious Reform in Bourbon Mexico City. Albuquerque, 2010. Le Pas de Sécheval, Anne. “Entre hommage et trahison: la réception et l’adaptation du baldaquin de Saint-Pierre.” In C. Grell et M. Stanic, eds, Le Bernin et l’Europe, actes du colloque de 1998 (Paris 2002): 375–90. Lefebvre, Frédéric. “La vertu des images. Analogie, proportion et métaphore dans la genèse des sciences socials au XVIIIe siècle.” Revue de Synthèse 121, 1–2 (January 2000): 45–77. Lehner, Ulrich L. Enlightened Monks: The German Benedictines, 1740–1803. Oxford, 2011. Lehner, Ulrich L. “Introduction: the Many Faces of the Catholic Enlightenment.” In Lehner and Printy, A Companion to the Catholic Enlightenment, 1–62. Leite, Paulo Gomes. “Revolução e heresia na biblioteca de um advogado de Mariana,” Acervo 8, 1–2 (1995): 153–66. Leite, Seraphim. História da Companhia de Jesus no Brasil. X vols. Rio de Janeiro, 1938. Leleux, Marie Claude. “Les prédicateurs jésuites et leur temps à travers les sermons prononcés dans le Paris religieux du XVIIIe siècle, 1729–1762,” Histoire, économie et société 9 (1989): 24–43. Levey, Michael. Painting and Sculpture in France, 1700–1789. New Haven and London, 1995. Levey, Michael. Rococo to Revolution: Major Trends in Eighteenth Century Painting. London, 1966. Lieb, Norbert, and H. Müller. Augsburger Rokoko. Augsburg, 1956. Lieb, Norbert, et al. Barockkirchen zwischen Donau und Alpen. Munich, 1997. Liégeois, Guy. Aix-en-Provence : Les hôtels particuliers, les fontaines et les oratoires. Aix-en-Provence, 2014. Lilti, Antoine. “The Kingdom of Politesse: Salons and the Republic of Letters in Eighteenth-Century Paris,” Republics of Letters: A Journal for the Study of Knowledge, Politics, and the Arts 1, 1 (May 2009): 1–11. Lilti, Antoine. Le monde des salons: sociabilité et mondanité à Paris au XVIIIe siècle. Paris, 2005. Lilti, Antoine. “Sociabilité et mondanité: les hommes de lettres dans les salons parisiens au XVIIIe siècle,” French Historical Studies 2005 28, 3 (2005): 415–45. Llamosas, F., and Matilde Tagle de Cuenca. “Librería de predicadores de Córdoba ediciones siglos XVI, XVII, XVIII.” In Rubén González et al eds, La Orden de Santo Domingo en Córdoba: historia y patrimonio (Pugliese Siena, 2004): 165–203.

Bibliography 391

Loers, Veit. Rokokoplastik und Dekorationssysteme: Aspekte der süddeutschen Kunst und des ästhetischen Bewusstseins im 18. Jahrhundert. Munich, 1976. Lorentz, S. “Mécénat et vie artistique en Pologne au XVIIIe siècle,” Annales. Économies, Sociétés, Civilisations 15, 1 (1960): 45–59. Lot, Thierry. Rambouillet au XVIIIe siècle. Rambouillet, 2010. Luks, Ilmar. “Tipología de la escultura decorativa hispánica en la arquitectura andina del siglo XVIII,” Boletín del Centro de Investigaciones Históricas y Estéticas 17 (número especial). Lupton, Ellen. “The Modern Curve: Form, Structure, and Image in the Twentieth Century and Beyond.” In Coffin, Rococo: The Continuing Curve, 218–45. Malachin, Fabrizio, and Alessia Vedova. “Mattia Bortoloni: dagli esordi alla maturità veneziana.” In Malachin and Vedova, eds, Bortoloni, Piazzetta, Tiepolo: il ‘700 veneto (Milan, 2010): 29–42. Malato Borralho, Maria Luísa. “Teodoro de Almeida.” In Luís de Oliveira Ramos et al, eds, Estudios em homenagem a João Francisco Marques I (Porto, 2001): 213–27. Malgouyres, Philippe. “Peinture et spiritualité en Italie au XVIIIe siècle,” Studiolo 2 (2003): 254–76. Mallé, Luigi. Stupinigi. Un capolavoro del settecento europeo tra barocchetto e classicismo. Torino, 1968. Mallgrave, Henry Francis, ed. Architectural Theory. II vols. Malden, Oxford, Victoria, 2006. Mandroux-França, Marie-Thérèse. “Information artistique et ‘mass media’ au XVIIIe siècle: la diffusion de l’ornement gravé rococo au Portugal.” In Actas do Congresso ‘A arte em Portugal no século XVIII’ I (Braga, 1973): 416–27. Mandroux-França, Marie-Thérèse. “La collection royale portugaise.” In Mariette, Catalogues de la collection, I, 45–227. Manierismo, barocco e rococo. Concetti e termini. Rome 1962. Maral, Alexandre et al. La Chapelle Royale de Versailles. Paris, 2010. Martin, Meredith. “The Ascendancy of the Interior in Eighteenth-Century French Architectural Theory.” In Denise Amy Baxter and Meredith Martin, eds, Architectural Space in Eighteenth-Century Europe (Farnham, 2010): 15–34. Martin, Meredith. Dairy Queens: The Politics of Pastoral Architecture from Catherine de’ Medici to Marie Antoinette. Cambridge, MA, 2011. Martinaitis, Marcelijus. “Lithuania’s Epic in Wood.” In Marcelijus Martinaitis, The Old Lithuanian Sculpture (Vilnius, 1994): 23–36. Masseau, Didier. “La position des apologistes conciliateurs,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 121–30. Massimi, Marina. “Um importante corpo documentário para a reconstrução da história da cultura no Brasil colonial: os acervos da oratória sagrada,” Memorandum 10 (2006): 54–64. Maué, Claudia. “Bildhauerkunst under den Grafen von Schönborn 1650–1770.” In Gerhard Bott, Die Grafen von Schönborn (Nuremberg, 1989): 129–39. Mauzi, Robert. L’idée du bonheur dans la littérature et la pensée françaises au XVIII siècle. Paris, 1965.

392 The Spiritual Rococo

Mauzi, Robert, and Sylvain Menant. Littérature française: le XVIIIe siècle II, 1750–1778. Paris, 1977. Maxwell, Kenneth. Conflicts and Conspiracies, 1750–1808. London, 2004. Maxwell, Kenneth. “Eighteenth-Century Portugal: Faith and Reason, Tradition and Innovation During a Golden Age.” In Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 103–32. Maza, Francisco de la. El arte colonial en San Luis Potosí. Mexico City, 1985. McFee, Sarah. Bernini and the Bell Towers: Architecture and Politics at the Vatican. New Haven and London, 2002. McMahon, Darin. Happiness: a History. New York, 2006. McManners, John. Abbés and Actresses: The Church and the Theatrical Profession in Eighteenth-Century France. Oxford, 1986. McManners, John. Church and Society in Eighteenth Century France II: The Religion of the People and the Politics of Religion. Oxford, 1998. McQueen, Alison. Empress Eugénie and the Arts: Politics and Visual Culture in the Nineteenth Century. Farnham, 2011. McQueen, William A. ed. A Selection of Emblems. Los Angeles, 1972. Mebold, Luis. Catálogo de pintura colonial en Chile. Santiago, 1985. Meier, Johannes. “Johann Bitterich und die Indios von Oberursel,” Würzburger Diözesan- Geschichtsblätter 62/63 (2001): 945–52. Meier, Johannes, and Michael Müller. Jesuiten aus Zentraleuropa in Portugiesisch- und Spanisch-Amerika 2: Chile. Münster, 2011. Melchior-Bonnet, Sabine, Histoire de la Frivolité. Paris, 2013. Melvin, Karen. Building Colonial Cities of God. Stanford, 2012. Mesa, José de, and Teresa Gisbert. “La escultura en Cusco.” In Escultura en el Perú. (Banco de Crédito del Perú, 1991): 191–250. Mesa, José de, and Teresa Gisbert. Escultura virreinal en Bolivia. La Paz, 1972. Michel, Christian. “Le mythe de la régénération de l’art au XVIIIe siècle.” In Guillaume Faroult et al. eds. L’antiquité rêvée (Paris, 2010): 57–64. Milam, Jennifer. Historical Dictionary of Rococo Art. Lanham, 2011. Milam, Jennifer. “Playful Constructions and Fragonard’s Swinging Scenes,” Eighteenth-Century Studies, 33, 4 (Summer 2000): 543–59. Millé, Andrés. La recoleta de Buenos Aires: una visión del siglo XVIII. Buenos Aires, 1952. Minguet, Philippe. Baroque et Rococo en Belgique. Liège, 1987. Minguet, Philippe. Esthétique du rococo. Paris, 1966. Miranda, Selma Melo. A igreja de São Francisco de Assis em Diamantina. Brasilia, 2009. Modiano, Ignacio. Iglesias de Chiloé: riqueza iconográfica dentro de una acción racionalista. Santiago, 1988. Modiano, Ignacio. Las experiencias arquitectónicas de los jesuitas en la Misión de Chiloé durante los siglos XVII y XVIII. Santiago, 1993. Molotiu, Andrei. Fragonard’s Allegories of Love. Los Angeles, 2007.

Bibliography 393

Montagu, Jennifer. “João V and Italian Sculpture.” In Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, (National Gallery of Art, 1993): 81–8. Montecinos Barrientos et al., eds. Las Iglesias Misionales de Chiloé. Documentos. Santiago, 1995. Montes, Maria Lúcia. “African Cosmologies in Brazilian Culture and Society.” In Edward J. Sullivan, ed., Brazil Body & Soul (New York, 2001): 340–44. Morales, Alfredo J. et al. Guía artística de Sevilla y su provincia. Seville, 2004. Mornet, Daniel. La Pensée Française Au XVIIIe Siècle. Paris, 1926. Moseley, Charles. A Century of Emblems: An Introductory Anthology. London, 1989. Moser-Rath, Elfriede. Dem Kirchenvolk die Leviten Gelesen: Alltag im Spiegel die Leviten gelesen. Stuttgart, 1991. Mowl, Timothy, and Brian Earnshaw. An Insular Rococo: Architecture, Politics and Society in Ireland and England, 1710–1770. London, 1999. Mühlen, Ilse von zur. “Imaginibus honos-Ehre sei dem Bild: Die Jesuiten und die Bilderfrage.” In Reinhold Baumstark, Rom in Bayern: Kunst und Spiritualität der ersten Jesuiten (Munich, 1997): 161–70. Mujica Pinilla, Ramón. “El arte de los sermones.” In Ramón Mujica Pinilla, ed., El Barroco peruano (Lima, 2002): 222–314. Mujica Pinilla, Ramón. “‘Reading without a Book’—on Sermons, Figurative Art, and Visual Culture in the Viceroyalty of Peru.” In Suzanne Stratton-Pruitt, ed., The Virgin, Saints, and Angels: South American Paintings 1600–1825 from the Thoma Collection (Stanford, 2006): 40–65. Müller, Michael “Mainzer Jesuitenmissionare in Übersee im 18. Jahrhundert. Eine erste Forschungsbilanz,” in Mainzer Zeitschrift. Mittelrheinisches Jahrbuch für Archäologie, Kunst und Geschichte 99 (2004): 105–20. Mulvey, Patricia A. “Slave Confraternities in Brazil: Their Role in Colonial Society,” The Americas, 39, 1 (July 1982): 39–40. Mundt, Ernest. “The Rocaille in Eighteenth-Century Bavarian Architecture,” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 26, 4 (Summer, 1968): 501–13. Nadler, Stephen M. “Nicolas Malebranche.” In Alan Charles Kors, ed., Oxford Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), III, 9–12. Nadler, Stephen M. Spinoza: A Life. Cambridge, 1999. Naudin, Pierre. “Un pédagogue enjoué: le Maître de Claville, l’Auteur du Traité du vrai mérite de l’homme.” In Philippe Koeppel, ed. Humour, ironie et humanisme dans la littérature français (Paris, 2001): 147–55. Necipoğlu, Gülru, and Mohammed al-Asad. The Topkapı Scroll: Geometry and Ornament in Islamic Architecture. Santa Monica, 1995. Neuman, Robert. “French Domestic Architecture in the Early 18th Century: the Town Houses of Robert de Cotte,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 39, 2 (May, 1980): 128–44. Niderst, Alain. “Modernisme et Catholicisme de l’Abbé Trublet,” Dix-huitième siècle 34 (2002): 303–13.

394 The Spiritual Rococo

Nolhac, Pierre de. Le château de Versailles sous Louis XV. Paris, 1898. Nyberg, Dorothea. “Introduction.” In Dorothea Nyberg, Meissonnier: an EighteenthCentury Maverick (Bronx, 1969): 16–43. O’Brien, Thomas. “Utopia in the Midst of Oppression? A Reconsideration of Guaraní/Jesuit Communities in Seventeenth and Eighteenth Century Paraguay,” Contemporary Justice Review 7, 4 (December 2004): 395–410. O’Malley, John. The First Jesuits. Cambridge, MA, 1993. O’Neill, John P. Mexico: Splendors of Thirty Centuries. New York, 1990. O’Phelan, Scarlett. La gran rebelión en los Andes. Lima, 1995. O’Phelan, Scarlett. Un siglo de rebeliones anticoloniales: Perú y Bolivia 1700–1783. Cuzco, 1988. Old, Hughes Oliphant. The Reading and Preaching of the Scriptures in the Worship of the Christian Church. IV vols. Grand Rapids, 1998. Oldřich, Blažíček, J. Umĕní Baroku v Čechách. Prague, 1967. Oliveira, Monalisa Pavonne. “O compromisso da Irmandade do Santíssimo Sacramento da Freuesia de Nossa Senhora do Pilar de Ouro Preto (1738),” Revista Cantareira 16 (2011): 2–9. d’Orey, Leonor. “The Silver Table Service of Dom José I of Portugal.” In Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 187–72. Pagden, Anthony. The Enlightenment and Why it Still Matters. New York, 2013. Paknys, Mindaugas. Lieutovos Didžiosios Kunigaikštijos dailės ir architektūros istorija. Vilnius, 2009. Palmer, Gabrielle G. Sculpture in the Kingdom of Quito. Albuquerque, 1987. Park, William. The Idea of Rococo. Newark, 1992. Paula, Alberto de, et al. Influencia alemana en la arquitectura argentina. Residencia, 1981. Pekacz, Jolanta T. Conservative Tradition in Pre-Revolutionary France. New York, 1999. Pekacz, Jolanta T. “The Salonnières and the Philosophes in Old Regime France: The Authority of Aesthetic Judgment,” Journal of the History of Ideas 60, 2 (April, 1999): 277–97. Peña, E. Documentos y planos relativos al periodo edilicio colonial. IV vols. Buenos Aires, 1910. Percival, Melissa. Fragonard and the Fantasy Figure. Farnham, 2012. Pereira, Cassia Farnezi. “Vida religiosa e mundanças sociais no Distrito Diamantino nos séculos XVIII e XIX,” Anais do XXVI Simpósio Nacional de História – ANPUH (Sao Paulo, 2011): 1–7. Pereira, Danielle Manoel dos Santos. “Atribuição confirmada: a pintura do forro da Capela-Mor dos Terceiros do Carmo em Mogi das Cruzes (SP).” In VIII Encontro de História da Arte (Campinas, 2012): 123–33. Pereira, José Fernandes. Estética Barroca I: Arquitectura e escultura. Lisbon, 2009. Pereira Salas, Eugenio. Historia del arte en el reino de Chile. Santiago, 1965.

Bibliography 395

Perrin, Jean-François. “Penser l’hégémonie: intolérance et lumières dans Rousseau Juge de Jean- Jacques.” In Ourida Mostafai and John T. Scott, eds, Rousseau and L’infâme: Religion, Toleration and Fanaticism in the Age of Enlightenment (Amsterdam and New York, 2009): 260–84. Perrin, Jean-François. “Rousseau et Saint-François de Sales: les lettres à Sophie ou la voie spirituelle,” Revue d’histoire littéraire de la France 94, 2 (March–April 1994): 221–30. Petri, Erika. Johann Michael Feichtmayr: ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des deutschen Rokoko. Mainz, 1935. Petzet, Michael, ed. Die Wies: Geschichte und Restaurierung. Munich, 1992. Pisani, Salvatore. Domenico Vaccaros SS Concezione a Montecalvario: Studien zu einem Gesamtkunstwerk des neapolitanischen Barocchetto. Frankfurt and New York, 1994. Plá, Josefina. El barroco hispano-Guaraní. Asunción, 2006. Plattner, Felix Alfred. Deutsche Meister des Barock in Südamerika. Basel, Freiburg, Vienna, 1960. Plax, Julie Ann. Watteau and the Cultural Politics of Eighteenth-Century France. Cambridge, 2000. Pons, Bruno. The James A. de Rothschild Bequest at Waddesdon Manor: Architecture and Painting. Aylesbury, 1996. Pons, Bruno. De Paris à Versailles, 1699–1736. Les sculpteurs ornemanistes parisiens et l’art décoratif des Bâtiments du Roi. Strasbourg, 1985. Pons, Bruno. L’hôtel de Roquelaure. Paris, 1988. Porteman, Karel. Emblematic Exhibitions at the Brussels Jesuit College (1630–1685). Brussels, 1996. Praz, Mario. Mnemosyne: the Parallel between Literature and the Visual Arts of Several National Traditions. Princeton, 1970. Praz, Mario. Studies in Seventeenth-Century Imagery. Rome, 1964. Precht-Nusßbaum, Karin. Zwischen Augsburg und Rom. Der Pollinger AugustinerChorherr Eusebius Amort (1692–1775): Ein bedeutender Repräsentant katholischer Aufklärung in Bayern. Paring, 2007. Preiss, Pavel. Der Bömische Barockmaler W.L. Reiner. Salzburg 1984. Prevost, M., and Roman d’Amat. Dictionnaire de biographie française VIII. Paris, 1959. Price, D.M. “Segaud, Guillaume.” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario IV, 3456. Printy, Michael. “Catholic Enlightenment and Reform Catholicism in the Holy Roman Empire.” In Lehner and Printy, A Companion to the Catholic Enlightenment, 165–214. Proctor, Candice E. Women, Equality, and the French Revolution. Westport, 1990. Radisich, Paula Rea. Hubert Robert: Painted Spaces of the Enlightenment. Cambridge, 1998. Ramos, Luís A. de Oliveira. Os Beneditinos e a cultura: ressonâncias da ilustração. Porto, 1984. Ramos Sosa, Rafael. “La grandeza de lo que hay dentro: escultura y artes de la madera.” In Guillermo Lohmann Villena et al., eds. La basilica catedral de Lima (Lima, 2004): 158–64.

396 The Spiritual Rococo

Reuter, Guido. Barocke Hochaltäre. Petersberg, 2002. Revello, José Torre. La Catedral. Buenos Aires, 1947. Ribbrock, Gerhard. August und Wilhelm Rincklake: Historismusarchitekten des späten 19. Jahrhunderts. Bonn, 1985. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade. “A escola mineira de imaginária e suas particularidades.” In Beatriz Coehlo, ed., Devoção e arte: imaginária religiosa em Minas Gerais (Sao Paulo, 2005): 15–68. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade. Aleijadinho e sua oficina: o catálogo das esculturas devocionais. Rio de Janeiro, 2008. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade. “Antônio Francisco Lisboa: de herói romantico a mito da nacionalidade.” In Teixeira, Aleijadinho, 12–17. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade. “O rococó na Igreja do Carmo da Antiga Sé.” In José Santos, Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Se (Rio de Janeiro, 2009): 107–21. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade. O rococó religioso no Brasil e seus antecedentes europeus. São Paulo, 2003. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade. Os passos de Congonhas e suas restaurações. Brasilia, 2011. Ribeiro de Oliveira, Myriam Andrade, and Fátima Justiniano. Barroco e Rococó nas igrejas do Rio de Janeiro III vols. Brazilia, 2008. Ribera, Adolfo Luis, and Héctor H. Schenone. El arte de la imaginería en el Río de la Plata. Buenos Aires, 1948. Ricard, Robert. “Sur la diffusion des oeuvres du P.e Teodoro de Almeida,” Boletim International de Bibliografia Luso-Brasileira IV (October–December 1963): 626–30. Rocha, Manuel Joaquim Moreira da. “A propósito de André Soares e do rococo-nótulas para a revisão de um processo,” Portugalia XVII–XVIII (1996–1997): 283–92. Rodrigues, Andre Figueiredo. “Estudio econômico da Conjuração Mineira: análise dos seqüestros de bens dos inconfidentes da comarca do Rio das Mortes.” Unpublished dissertation, University of Sao Paulo, 2008. Rodrigues dos Santos Filho, Olinto. “Características específicas e escultores identificados.” In Beatriz Coehlo, ed., Devoção e arte: imaginária religiosa em Minas Gerais (Sao Paulo, 2005): 139–232. Rodter, Gabriele D. Via piae animae: Grundlagenuntersuchung zur emblematischen Verknüpfung von Bild u. Wort in den ‘Pia desideria’ des Herman Hugo. Frankfurt, 1992. Röhrl, Anton. Die Künstlerfamilie Asam und ihr Wirken in Niederbayern und der Oberpfalz. Abensberg, 1987. Rohrmann, Hans. Die Wessobrunner des 17. Jahrhunderts. Munich, 1999. Roland Michel, Marianne. Lajoüe et l’Art Rocaille. Neuilly-sur-Seine, 1984. Roland Michel, Marianne. “L’ornement rocaille: quelques questions,” Revue de l’Art 55 (1982): 66–75. Roodenburg, Herman. “From Embodying the Rules to Embodying Belief: on Eighteenth-Century Pulpit Delivery in England, Germany and the Netherlands.” In Eijnatten, Preaching, 313–42.

Bibliography 397

Rosenberg, Pierre. Fragonard. New York, 1988. Rousset-Charny, Gérard. Le domaine de Sceaux. Paris, 2000. Rückert, Georg. Eusebius Amort und das bayerische Gestesleben im 18. Jahrhundert. Munich, 1956. Rupprecht, Bernard. Die Bayerische Rokoko-Kirche. Munich, 1959. Rupprecht, Bernhard, and Wolf-Christian von der Mülbe. Die Brüder Asam: Sinn und Sinnlichkeit im bayerischen Barock. Regensburg, 1980. Russell-Wood, A.J.R. “Portugal and the World in the Age of Dom João V.” In Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 15–30. Russell-Wood, A.J.R. “Prestige, Power, and Piety in Colonial Brazil: The Third Orders of Salvador,” The Hispanic American Historical Review 69, 1 (February 1989): 61–89. Sahut, Marie-Catherine, and Florence Raymond. Antoine Watteau et l’art de l’estampe. Paris, 2010. Saine, Thomas P. The Problem of Being Modern, or the German Pursuit of Enlightenment from Leibniz to the French Revolution. Detroit, 1997. Saisselin, Rémy G. “The Rococo as a Dream of Happiness,” The American Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 19, 2 (Winter, 1960): 145–52. Salmon, Pierre. The Breviary Through the Centuries. Collegeville, 1962. Salzgeber, Joachim. Einsiedeln. Ensiedeln, 1980. San Cristobal, António de. “La Catedral de Lima en la arquitectura virreinal.” In Lohmann, La basílica catedral, 56–111. Santos, Zulmira C. “O Feliz Independente do P.e Teodoro de Almeida: a teoria literária como forma de cultura no século XVIII,” Revista da Facultade de Letras, Linguas, e Literaturas 1 (1987): 179–91. Santos, Zulmira C. “Vícios, virtudes e paixões: da novela como ‘catecismo’ no século XVIII,” Revista de Estudios Ibéricos 3 (2006): 187–99. Savignac, Monique de. Peintres d’églises à Paris au XVIIe siècle. Paris, 2002. Scharnagl, Ralf. Der Wessobrunner Stukkateur Johann Michael II Feichtmayr. Münster, 1993. Scheider, Martin. “Between Grâce and Volupté: Boucher and Religious Painting.” In Hyde and Ledbury, Rethinking Boucher, 61–90. Schenone, Héctor. “Retablos y púlpitos.” In Historia general del arte en la Argentina I (Buenos Aires, 1982): 213–76. Schenone, Héctor. “Tallistas portugueses en el Río de la Plata,” Anales del Instituto de Arte Americano e Investigaciones Estéticas 8 (1955): 40–56. Schmid, Alois. “Die Klöster der Oberpfalz von der Rekatholisierung bis zur Säkularisation von 1802/03.” In Bernhard Löffler and Karsten Ruppert, eds, Religiöse Prägung und politische Ordnung in der Neuzeit (Cologne, 2006): 113–36. Schmidt, Leopold. Barocke Volksfrömmigkeit. Vienna, 1971. Schnell, Hugo and Uta Schedler. Lexikon der Wessobrunner Künstler und Handwerker. Munich, 1988.

398 The Spiritual Rococo

Schnell, Werner. Marienmünster Dießen: ehemalige Augustiner-Chorherrenkirche. Passau, 2005. Schönberger, Arno, and Halldor Soehner. L’Europe du XVIIIème siecle. L’art et la culture. Paris, 1960. Schott, Friedrich. Martin Engelbrecht und seine Nachfolger. Vaduz, 2009. Schütz, Bernhard. Wallfahrtskirche Basilika Vierzehnheiligen. Regensburg, 2005. Scott, Katie. The Rococo Interior. New Haven and London, 1995. Sebastián, Santiago. Estudios sobre el arte y la arquitectura coloniales en Colombia. Bogota, 2006. Sebastián, Santiago. “La influencia germanica de los Klauber en Hispanoamérica,” Boletín del Centro de Investigaciones Históricas y Estéticas 14 (1972): 61–74. Sedlmayr, Hans. “The Synthesis of the Arts in the Rococo.” In The Age of Rococo (Munich, 1958): 25. Sedlmayr, Hans, and Hermann Bauer. “Rococo.” In Encyclopedia of World Art XII (New York, 1966): 241. Seibert, Gerhard. “500 Years of the Manuscript of Valentin Fernandes, a Moravian Book Printer in Lisbon.” In Beata Elżbieta Cieszyńska, ed, Iberian and Slavonic Cultures: Contact and Comparison (Lisbon, 2007): 79–88. Serra, Pedro. “Aesthetics and Ideology in Queirós’s A Cidade e as Serras.” CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture 11.3 (2009): 1–9. Serulnikov, Sergio. Subverting Colonial Authority: Challenges to Spanish Rule in Eighteenth- Century Southern Andes. Durham and London, 2003. Sheriff, Mary D. Fragonard: Art and Eroticism. Chicago, 1990. Sheriff, Mary D. “Fragonard’s Erotic Mothers and the Politics of Reproduction.” In Lynn Hunt, ed., Eroticism and the Body Politic (Baltimore, 1991): 14–40. Sheriff, Mary D. Moved by Love, Inspired Artists and Deviant Women in EighteenthCentury France. Chicago, 2004. Sheriff, Mary D. “Rococo.” In Alan Charles Kors, ed., Oxford Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003) III, 465–7. Sierra, Vicente. Los jesuitas germanos en la conquista spiritual de Hispano-America. Buenos Aires, 1944. Smith, Jeffrey Chipps. Sensuous Worship: Jesuits and the Art of the Early Catholic Reformation in Germany. Princeton and Oxford, 2002. Smith, Robert. The Art of Portugal 1500–1800. New York, 1968. Smith, Robert C. “Arte barroca de Portugal e de Brasil,” Revista Panorama 38 (1949): 1–22. Smith, Robert C. “Baroque and Rococo Braga: Documenting Eighteenth-Century Architecture and Sculpture in Northern Portugal,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 115, 3 (June 17, 1971): 214–20. Smith, Robert C. Frei José de Santo António Ferreira Vilaça: Escultor beneditino do século XVIII. II vols. Lisbon, 1972. Smith, Robert C. A talha em Portugal. Lisbon, 1962.

Bibliography 399

Snodin, Michael, and Elspeth Moncrieff, eds. Rococo: Art and Design in Hogarth’s England. London, 1984. Sobrón, Dalmacio. “Acerca de la arquitectura del hermano Andrés Blanqui, S.J.” In La Salvaguarda del Patrimonio Jesuitico: seminario post congreso Posadas 1994 II Congreso Internacional de Rehabilitación del Patrimonio Arquitectónico y Edificación (Buenos Aires, 1995): 19–33. Sobrón, Dalmacio. Giovanni Andrea Bianchi: un arquitecto italiano en los albores de la arquitectura colonial argentina. Córdoba, 1997. Soergel, Philip M. Wondrous in His Saints: Counter-Reformation Propaganda In Bavaria. Berkeley, 1993. Sohm, Philip. “Gendered Style in Italian Art Criticism from Michelangelo to Malvasia,” Renaissance Quarterly 48, 4 (1995): 759–808. Sorkin, David Jan. The Religious Enlightenment: Protestants, Jews, and Catholics from London to Vienna. Princeton, 2008. Spahr, Gebhard. Oberschwäbische Barockstrasse III. Weingarten, 1980. Spary, E.C. “Scientific Discoveries,” History of Science 42 (2002): 11–13. Spencer, Samia I. ed. French Women and the Age of Enlightenment. Bloomington, 1984. Spudytė, Elvyra. Tradicinė žemaičių skulptūra. Vilnius, 2008. Stewart, Matthew. The Courtier and the Heretic: Leibnitz, Spinoza and the Fate of God in the Modern World. New York, 2006. Strayer, Brian. Suffering Saints: Jansenists and Convulsionnaires in France, 1640–1799. Eastbourne, 2012. Sustersic, Bozidar D. Imagines Guaraní-jesuítias. Asuncion, 2010. Sypher, Wylie. Rococo to Cubism in Art and Literature. New York, 1960. Tadgell, Christopher. “France.” In Anthony Blunt, ed. Baroque and Rococo Architecture and Décoration (New York, 1978): 106–42. Tapié, Victor-Lucien. “Essai d’analyse du rococo international.” In Sensibilità e razionalità nel settecento. Aspetti e problemi 5 (Venice, 1969): 125–56. Taylor, R.C. “Francisco Hurtado and His School,” The Art Bulletin, 32, 1 (March, 1950): 25–61. Taylor, William. Magistrates of the Sacred. Stanford, 1996. Teixeira, José de Monterroso Aleijadinho, o teatro da fé. Sao Paulo, 2007. Templo de Nuestra Señora del Pilar: una reliquia colonial. Buenos Aires, 1942. El Templo de San Ignacio. Buenos Aires, 1947. Terpak, Frances. “Objects and Contexts.” In Barbara Stafford and Frances Terpak, eds, Devices of Wonder (Malibu, 2002): 143–364. Thierer, Manfred. Konrad Hegenauer: Rokokobildhauer in Oberschwaben. Leutkirch, 1986. Thomson, Sinclair. We Alone Will Rule: Native Andean Politics in the Age of Insurgency. Madison and London, 2002. Thon, Christina. J.B. Zimmermann als Stukkator. Munich and Zurich, 1977.

400 The Spiritual Rococo

Thurnheer, Jürg. Ingenbohl-Brunnen: Kirchen und Kapellen. Passau, 1999. Tillmann, Max. Ein Frankreichbündnis der Kunst. Berlin and Munich, 2009. Tillmann, Max. “‘Très belle, agreeable et bien meublée,’ The Electoral Palace at SaintCloud in the Early Eighteenth Century.” In Denise Amy Baxter and Meredith Martin, Architectural Space in Eighteenth-Century Europe (Farnham, 2010): 35–55. Tirapeli, Percival. Igrejas Barrocas do Brasil. Sao Paulo, 2008. Tirapeli, Percival. Igrejas Paulistas: Barroco e Rococó. Sao Paulo, 2003. Tirapeli, Percival, and Wolfgang Pfeiffer. As mais belas igrejas do Brasil. Sao Paulo, 2001. Toledo, Benedito Lima de. Esplendor do barroco luso-brasileiro. Sao Paulo, 2012. Toussaint, Manuel. Arte Colonial en México. Mexico City, 1948. Unruh, Alison. “Warhol’s Rococo.” In Hyde and Scott, eds, Rococo Echo. Urruela de Quezada, Ana María. El tesoro de la Merced: arte e historia. Guatemala City, 1997. Urzúa, Luis Roa. “El arte colonial en Chile,” Revista Chilena de Historia y Geografía 65 (1929): 34–7. Urzúa, Luis Roa. El arte en la epoca colonial de Chile. Santiago, 1929. Vahlne, Bo. Frihetstidens inredningar på Stockholms Slott. Stockholm, 2012. Van de Vyver, O. “Hugo, Herman.” In O’Neill and Domínguez, Diccionario II, 1965. Vanuxem, Jacques. “Note sur les contrefaçons des gravures et ornements francais,” Bulletin de la société de l’histoire de l’art français, année 1952 (1953): 29–35. Vargas Ugarte, Ruben. Los Jesuitas del Perú y el arte. Lima, 1963. Vasconcellos, Sylvio de. “A arquitetura colonial mineira.” In Primeiro Seminário de Estados Mineiros (Belo Horizonte, 1957): 59–77. Vidal, Mary. “Looking Past the Mirror: Genre Painting Taken Seriously,” EighteenthCentury Studies 36, 1 (2002): 99–108. Vidal, Mary. Watteau’s Painted Conversations: Art, Literature and Talk in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century France. New Haven and London, 1992. Villalta, Luiz Carlos. “O diabo na livraria dos Inconfidentes.” In Adauto Novaes, ed., Tempo e História (Sao Paulo, 1992): 372–5. Villeneuve, René. Baroque to Neo-Classical Sculpture in Quebec. Ottawa, 1997. Viñuales, Graciela María. “Los jesuítas de origen alemán. Su obra en el Río de la Plata.” In Ramón Gutiérrez and Patricia Méndez, eds, Alemanes en la arquitectura argentina (Buenos Aires, 2010): 26–8. Vít Vlnas. Mannerist and Baroque in Bohemia. Prague, 2005. Vives Mejía, G.A. “El arte colonial y los grabados,” Desde la Sala 16 (2010): 58–60. Voekel, Pamela. Alone Before God. Durham and London, 2002. Volk, Peter et al. Rokokoplastik in Altbayern, Bayrisch-Schwaben und im Allgäu. Munich, 1981. Vollmer, Eva Christina. Der Wessobrunner Stukkator Franz Xaver Schmuzer. Sigmaringen, 1979.

Bibliography 401

Wappenschmidt, Friederike. Chinesischen Tapeten für Europa: vom Rollenbild zur Bildtapete. Berlin, 1989. Warwick, Genevieve. Bernini: Art as Theatre. New Haven, 2012. Weisgerber, Jean. Les masques fragiles: esthétique et formes de la littérature rococo. Lausanne, 1991. Whitehead, John. The French Interior in the 18th Century. London 1992. Wilberg, Peter Vignau. “Le finte cupole e la loro recezione nella Germania meridionale.” In Battista, Andrea Pozzo, 215–24. Wittkower, Rudolf. Art and Architecture in Italy: 1600–1750. London, 1991. Wohl, Helmut. “Portuguese Baroque Architecture.” In Levenson, The Age of the Baroque, 139–62. Wolf, Friedrich. “Der Stukkator Johann Michael Feichtmayr als Figurenbilder,” Oberbayrisches Archiv 85 (1962): 59–66 Wolf, Friedrich. François de Cuvilliés (1695–1768): der Architekt und Dekorschöpfer. Munich, 1967. Wolfgang, Aurora. Gender and Voice in the French Novel 1730–1782. Aldershot, 2004. Worcester, Thomas. “The Classical Sermon.” In Joris van Eijnatten, Preaching, Sermon and Cultural Change in the Long Eighteenth Century (Leiden, 2009): 133–72. Wunder, Richard P. Extravagant Drawings of the Eighteenth Century from the Collections of the Cooper Hewitt Museum. New York, 1962. Yonan, Michael. “Ornament’s Invitation: the Rococo of Vienna’s Gardekirche,” The Eighteenth Century 50, 4 (2010): 285–308. Yonan, Michael. “The Wieskirche: Movement, Perception, and Salvation in the Bavarian Rococo,” Studies in Eighteenth Century Culture 41 (2012): 1–25. Young, Paul J. Seducing the Eighteenth-century French Reader. Farnham, 2008. Zalapì, Angheli. Palazzi of Sicily. Cologne, 2000. Zanconato, Alessandro. Le dispute du fatalisme en France, 1730–1760. Fasano, 2004. Ziskin, Rochelle. Sheltering Art: Collecting and Social Identity in Early Eighteenth-Century Paris. University Park, 2012.

Index

Abbaye de Saint Antoine 29, 87 absorption 83–4 abstraction 7, 12–13, 53, 123, 153, 161, 197, 238, 251, 283, 286, 306–7 Academies Academia Real de Belas Artes 188 Académie Royale des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres 38 Académie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture 2–3, 29, 36, 93 Academia de San Fernando 297 Académie de Saint-Luc 94 Bavarian Academy of Science 117, 127 Royal Academy of History (Portugal) 187 academism 1, 2, 16, 32, 42, 93–4, 133, 298–9, 302 acanthus scrolls 8, 119, 133, 190–91, 207, 242, 251, 255, 257 Achao (Chilean Patagonia) 273 Church of Santa Maria de Loreto 279, 280, 281, 283, 302 Adam, Nicolas Sébastian 75, 78 Aix-en Provence, Hôtel de Rimbaud 61 Albrecht, Karl 118, 133 alcove (ruelle) 58–9, 77, 168, 277 d’Alembert, Jean Le Rond 4, 28, 33–4, 58, 183 allegories 79, 80, 122, 139, 152 Alletz, Pons-Augustin 179 Almeida, Teodoro de 16, 42, 180–81, 215, 284, 306 Alpoim, José Fernades Pinto 199 Altötting (Bavaria) 147, 244 Alves, Domingos 192 Ambros, Joseph 250 Amigoni, Jacopo, 141, 142 Amort, Eusebius 127, 147

anástilo, 238 animal imagery 60, 61, 69, 251, 274, 276, 278, 283, 297, 302 Apologetics 7, 15, 31, 34, 42–4, 117–18, 127–8, 180, 252, 303 appartements 57–8 appliqué ornament 148–9, 190, 207 arabesques 7, 72, 74, 78, 130, 186, 187, 218, 251 Araújo, José Álvares de 190, 191, 194, 195 Arcadia 11, 55, 72, 80, 82, 87, 93, 130, 168, 215, 265; see also pastoral architecture domestic vs. ecclesiastical 13, 14, 16, 23, 77–9, 94–6, 100, 109, 111, 113, 118–19 130, 148, 163, 168, 177–8, 180, 186, 190, 201–5, 215, 218, 222, 224, 237, 242 interior vs. exterior 10, 16, 61, 94, 149, 177–8, 201, 222, 278 as ornament 13, 71, 149, 154–7, 159–63, 190, 206 plans 57–8, 74, 76, 95, 158–9 161, 162, 177, 190, 206 Arlesheim Cathedral (Switzerland) 150 Art Nouveau 18, 307, 309 artifice 53, 74, 148, 302 artistic dynasties 16, 115, 122, 127, 131–4, 210, 245–6, 248 aristocracy 2, 5, 12, 15, 24, 26, 27–8, 30, 33, 38, 57, 59, 75, 82, 115, 117, 125, 126, 127, 130, 132, 168, 180–81, 221, 302, 307 Arregui, José Ignacio de 263 Arriaga, Dona Mariana de 181 Asam, Cosmas Damian 113, 132–3, 136, 139, 140, 255

404 The Spiritual Rococo

Asam, Egid Quirin 114, 132, 133, 135, 136, 255 Asunción (Paraguay) 273–5, 277–8 asymmetry 8, 9, 65, 68–9, 72, 79, 82, 97, 124, 134, 147, 150, 161, 184, 190, 196, 198, 203, 207, 210, 218, 221, 219, 259, 262–3, 277, 297, 302, 305 Ataíde, Manuel da Costa Plate 11, 198, 211, 224 atheism 5, 177 Aubert, Mme 128, 181, 285, 304, 35, 36, 37 Augsburg 120, 133, 163 Schaezlerpalais, Plate 4, 131, 205 Augsburg presses 10, 16, 73, 98, 109, 117–18, 120–26, 130–34, 177, 183, 188–90, 192–3, 197–8, 201, 205, 208, 224, 239, 251–2, 255, 265, 268, 286, 300, 305 Augsburger Geschmack 120, 122, 130–33, 162, 205 Augustinians 115, 125–7, 167, 179, 188 auricular style 60, 63, 97, 119, 192–3, 277 Aveline, Pierre 9, 73, 188 azuleijos (blue tiles) 184, 188 Babel, Pierre-Edmé 3, 16, 64, 69, 72, 74, 99, 109, 120, 146, 149, 157, 158, 159, 188–9, 193, 195, 207, 261 Baciccio (Giovanni Battista Gaulli) 119, 134, 136, 138, 139, 141–2, 205 Bader, Joseph Anton, 113, 150 Bahia (Brazil) 190, 197, 207, 222–3 baldachin 99, 100, 131, 159, 167, 191, 195, 225, 239, 250, 259, 262, 282 Balthäfer, Paul 255 Bamberg (Franconia), Martinskirche 245 barocchetto 8, 134 Baroque 1, 6, 9, 12–14, 16–17, 23, 30–31, 53, 57, 59–62, 64, 74, 76, 78–9, 82, 85, 87, 93–4, 111, 187, 286, 302, 304–5 Germanic 13, 112–13, 144 Iberian and South American 8, 17, 184, 190–91, 194, 198, 205, 210, 228, 238, 239, 242, 251–2, 257, 273, 285, 304 Italian 8, 10–11, 95–7, 119, 134–6, 149, 186, 190, 273, 283, 298 Bauer, Hermann 6–8, 10–11, 13, 35, 69, 109, 134, 138, 148, 150, 157, 161–2 Bauer, Johann 122, 193, 194, 195–6, 270

Baumgartner, Johann Jacob 120 Baumgartner, Johann Wolfgang 122, 124, 188 Bazin, Germain 205, 208, 214, 217 beauty 25, 27, 30–32, 39, 43, 69, 79, 128, 180–81 bedrooms 57, 58, 65, 77–9, 87, 94, 130, 308 bel composto 135; see also unity of media Bellegarde, Jean-Baptise Morvan de 38, 126–7, 178, 248, 284 Bellevue, Château de 90 Benedictines 115, 117–18, 125–8, 145–7, 152, 179, 188–90, 192, 225, 253, 303 Benediktbeuern, Abbey (Bavaria) 125, 134 Berain, Jean 60, 120, 130, 187, 262, 60 Berg-am-Laim (Bavaria), Church of St. Michael 142, 143, 163, 221 Bergier, Nicolas-Sylvestre 32–5, 125–8, 178, 180, 284, 303 Bergmüller, Johann Georg 145, 167, 198, 224 Bernini, Gianlorenzo 3, 9, 94–5, 97, 135–6, 137, 157, 159, 191, 255 Bianchi, Andrea 237, 243, 252, 262 Bibiena, Ferdinando Galli 60, 61 Bieliński, Count Franciszek 65, 67, 205, 309 bird imagery 3, 55, 69, 79, 90, 130, 150, 163, 278, 283, 297 Bitterich, Johann 245 Blanchardière, René Courte de la 305 Blondel, Jacques-François 4, 9, 54, 58, 69, 74, 95–6, 189, 259, 261, 298, 307 Blondel, Jean-François 97, 130, 268 Boffrand, Germain Plate 1, 61, 76, 77, 94, 130, 218, 74, 75, 218 boiseries 3, 11, 14, 62, 64, 72, 76, 79, 94, 97, 120, 130, 184, 203; see also woodwork Bolswert, Boëtius à 81, 82 books; see also libraries, sermons, treatises architectural 4, 73–5, 98–9, 121, 131, 137, 224, 189, 255, 259 ornamental 3, 9, 16, 72–5, 96, 109, 120–25, 133, 147–8, 165, 187–9, 196, 204, 221, 228, 251, 257–9, 261, 280 Borromini, Francesco 59, 68, 95–66, 149, 188 Bos, Abbé Jean-Baptiste du 58

index 405

Bossuet, Jacques Bénigne 31, 126–7, 178, 183, 237, 284 Boucher, François 3, 5, 9, 11, 15, 73–4, 79–80, 82, 84–5, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 120, 134, 142, 188, 189, 302, 310 Bourdaloue, Louis 31–2, 37, 42, 125–6, 237, 284 bourgeoisie 12, 27–8, 75, 181–2, 228 Braga (Portugal) 188, 190, 192, 211, 228, 305 Archiepiscopal Palace 193, 194 Church of Santa Maria do Monte da Falperra 192, 193 Brazilian Independence Movement 1, 14–15, 17, 182, 228, 284, 302, 308 Brêtas, Rodrigo José Ferreira 208–9 Bretonneau, François 32, 125–7, 178, 183, 284 Briseux, Charles Etienne 189 Brito, Henrique Gomes de 211, 212, 213 brotherhoods; see confraternities, irmandades, and Third Orders Brunnen (Switzerland) Church of Saint Leonhard 300 Bucalemu (Chile), Hacienda 246, 250 Buenos Aires 1, 14, 16, 29, 196, 202, 243, 251, 261, 267–8, 270, 275, 284–6, 305 Cathedral 250, 256, 260, 262, 268 Jesuit Church of San Ignacio 237, 252, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258–9, 300, 308 Recollect Church of El Pilar Plate 14, 262, 263, 264, 285 Santa Catalina 256, 258, 259 San Francisco 256, 259, 285 Buffier, Claude 41, 42, 126–7, 180, 284 C-scrolls 8, 43, 68, 82, 96–7, 134, 147, 190, 193–4, 207, 242, 265, 268, 277, 300, 302 cabinet 8, 9, 26, 60, 65, 68, 72, 77–9, 85, 94, 193, 205, 246, 250, 254, 267, 270, 309 cabinet makers (ébénistes) 64, 243, 245–7, 238 Cachoeira (Portugal), Third Order Carmelite Church 190, 207–8 Calera de Tango (Chile) 246, 247, 248, 250 Calmel, Jean-Jacques-Joseph 41

Campos, Bishop Gregorio 297 Le Canu, Jean-Dominique-Étienne 73, 99, 124, 259 Candel, Jules 32, 34, 303 Capela-Mor 177, 190, 194–9, 202, 203, 204, 207, 211–14, 216–17, 224 Capiatá (Paraguay) Plate 17, 274 Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria 276, 277 Capuchins 26, 126, 129 Caraccioli, Louis–Antoine 40, 125–7, 178, 180, 237, 248, 284, 303–5, 310 Careaga, Miguel de 263 Carlone, Giovanni Battista 120, 139 Carmelites 41, 201, 203, 207–8, 210, 212, 225, 257, 285 Carmona, Pedro Plate 14, 262–3, 264 cartouche 3, 9, 10, 13–14, 60–61, 63, 65, 68, 69, 71, 72, 74–5, 78, 97, 100, 109, 120–23, 127, 131, 132, 133–4, 145, 148–50, 152–4, 155, 156–7, 158, 159, 161–3, 168, 188–9, 195–6, 204, 207, 218–19, 221, 224, 242, 253, 258, 259, 261–3, 268, 270, 276, 278, 300, 302, 305, 311 Catholic Enlightenment 16, 115, 117, 125–8, 147, 303 Catholic Reformation 306 Cavadas, José de Sousa Plate 15, 275, 276, 278 Caylus, Anne-Claude-Philippe, comte de 62, 90, 184 ceiling painting 6, 11–13, 16, 62, 78, 119–20, 130–34, 136–53, 158–9, 161–3, 167, 177, 184, 204, 206, 207, 211, 224, 228, 299–300 Cerqueira, Francisco de Lima Plate 12, 211–12, 214, 215, 216, 219, 221 Challe, Simon 53–4, 54, 97 Chantilly, Château de 55, 72, 73 charmes 24, 26, 32–3, 35, 39–40, 57, 58 Charles III, King of Spain 283, 297, 299 Charpentier, Étienne 204 Charpentier, René-Jacques 261, 300 cheminée 64, 66, 72, 74–5, 87, 131 Chiloé (Chilean Patagonia) 246, 273, 279 chinoiserie 71, 72, 74, 123, 188, 189, 196, 268, 283, 305 Christianity of Reason 5, 7, 14–15, 23, 25, 27, 30–32, 34, 41–4, 55, 117, 125, 127, 129, 178, 303, 304–5, 316; see also apologetics, sermons, treatises definition 34, 41–2

406 The Spiritual Rococo

Church, institution of 27, 30, 41, 111– 12, 117, 143–4, 164, 166, 273, 304 Cicero 23–5, 32, 37, 59 civility 23, 24, 25, 26, 31, 32, 33, 38 Classicism 10–11, 17, 93–5, 97, 149, 297, 298 Claville, Charles-François-Nicolas Le Maître de 37–9, 126, 129, 284–5, 303, 306 Clemente, Cristóbal 238 Cochin, Charles-Nicolas 2, 68, 84 Coimbra (Portugal) 179–90, 197 collecting see shells, prints colonialism 1, 75, 100, 177–9, 182, 197, 201, 228, 237–8, 245–6, 248, 252, 267, 272–3, 283–5, 297, 299, 303, 308 color 3–4, 54, 62, 77–8, 82, 90, 93, 99– 100, 115, 134, 139, 154, 159, 167–8, 178, 185–6, 197–8, 201–3, 210, 214, 217, 224, 228, 239, 242, 254, 259, 263, 270, 275, 277–8, 282–3, 298–9, 300, 305, 308–9, 310 columns; see also estípite Classical 64, 155, 210, 257, 261, 265, 267–8, 279, 300 Solomonic 177, 190–91, 196, 210, 214, 238, 242, 250, 256, 276, 277, 283 comfort (commodité) 7, 58, 130, 307, 308 Concepción (Chile) 248 Jesuit Church 246, 238 conduct books 7, 15, 23–4, 26, 28–30, 32, 36–8, 41–2, 76, 79, 80, 83–4, 180, 284 confessionals 72, 98–9, 123, 149, 150, 251, 153–4, 262, 275, 277 confraternities 6, 16, 113, 178, 188, 198, 228, 284; see also irmandades, Third Orders Congonhas do Campo 209, 224, 228, Cono Sur 16–17; see Southern Cone convenance 55, 57 conversation 5, 8, 24, 26, 28, 31, 34–7, 39–40, 53–5, 76, 80, 83–5, 87, 90, 225, 303–4 convulsionnaires (convulsionists) 6, 27 coquillage 8, 60, 124, 221, 262; see also shells, shellwork Córdoba (Argentina) 250, 252, 262, 284–5, 304–5 La Compañía 265 Corny, Emmanuel Héré 99–100 Correggio, Antonio da 11, 90, 136

Cortona Pietro da 59, 95, 134, 149 Costa, Cláudio Manuel da 182, 299 Costa, Father Manuel Rodrigues da 182–3 costume 3, 82, 85, 90, 143, 219, 224, 251, 304, 310 Council of Trent 37, 128, 306 Courcillon, Marie-Sophie (Princesse de Soubise) 76, 80 court culture 1, 11, 14, 16, 23–6, 28, 30–31, 33, 35, 37, 40, 43, 57, 65, 109, 118, 120, 126, 129, 130–34, 165, 177, 183–4, 186, 188, 197, 201, 210, 245–6, 305, 307 Courtin, Antoine de 23–5, 27, 38 coves 61, 62, 79, 97, 130, 186 Coypel, Charles-Antoine 85, 189 craftsmen 8, 16, 64, 75, 114, 115, 120–21, 165, 201, 237, 242–3, 244, 246, 248, 276, 277 283; see also indigenous artists Croiset, Jean 125–7, 178, 248, 284 Cunha, Dom Luís da 184, 187, 197 curiosity cabinets 8, 9, 68, 74 curve 3, 12, 61, 68, 94–7, 146–7, 149, 162, 178, 191, 195–7, 202, 207, 209, 214, 218, 242, 244, 257, 259, 262, 265, 268, 270, 282–3, 300, 309 Cuvilliés, François de 3, 66, 118–119, 120, 123, 129–31, 132, 133, 246 Cuzco (Peru) 251 Cathedral 242, 243 Compañía 238 Danner, Philipp David 124, 228 Danzer, Jakob 128–9, 144, 181 De La Salle, Jean-Baptiste 26, 31, 125 Debrie, François-Laurent 187–9 Decker, Paul 138 decorum 2, 25–7, 29, 30, 36, 38, 41, 58, 83, 93, 304; see also manners Deism 5, 30, 117, 304 Delafosse, Jean-Charles 188, 261, 300 Delamair, Alexis 95, 130 delight (délices) 26, 32, 33, 37, 42, 285 Desing, Anselm 127 Desmahis, Sieur de 4 Diamantina (Brazil) 189, 228 Diderot, Denis 2–5, 25–6, 28, 30, 34, 41–2, 53, 58, 83, 87, 183, 302, 304, 310 Dießen, Abbey Church (Bavaria) 166, 167–8, 221–2, 262–3

index 407

Dietrich, Johann Joachim 166, 167 dievukai (“little gods”) 165 Dinouart, L’Abbé Joseph-AntoineToussaint 39, 126–7, 303 Dominicans 143, 284 Driendl, Thomas 309 Du Barry, Madame 55 Du Perron, 57 Du Préaux, L’Abbé 36 Du Deffand, Mme (Marie Anne de Vichy-Chamrond, marquise de) 28–9, 59 Duguet, Jacques-Joseph 284–5 Dupont, Nicolas 100 duty 23, 25, 35, 37, 304 Dyckburg (Westphalia), St. Mauritz 308 Eastern Orthodox Church 14, 112 education 24–6, 35, 38, 43, 79–80, 85, 99, 127–8, 167, 179–82, 285, 197, 306; see also conduct books Egaña, Don Juan 303 emotions 5, 31–2, 55, 83, 93, 136, 152, 179, 310 enfilades 57, 76, 77, 112, 155, 185, 194 Engelbrecht, Martin 121, 122–4, 188–9, 193, 225 Engelhard, Adam 270, 271 Enlightenment 2, 4–5, 7, 13, 15–17, 23, 27–8, 31, 34–5, 38–43, 83, 112, 115, 117, 180–83, 210, 228, 252, 283, 286, 299–304, 307–8; see also Catholic Enlightenment Epicureanism 7, 31, 36, 38, 80 Epifania, Frei Manuel de 179 eroticism 3, 5, 40, 54–5, 81–2, 90, 109, 148, 219, 307 Eschlbach, Church of St. Mariä Geburt (Bavaria) 113, 115, 152, 153, 163 estípite 8, 238, 239, 242 Fackler, Matthias 113, 115, 150, 152, 153 farmers 113, 114, 115, 124, 126, 129, 152, 163–5, 168, 247, 250, 274 Fastl, Augustin 167–8, 221 Feichmayr Family 123, 133 Feichmayr, Franz Xaver (I, II) 133, 167 Feichmayr, Johann Michael Plate 5, 116, 133, 146, 147, 150, 153, 154, 157, 159, 167

Fénelon, François de Salignac de la Mothe 32–5, 41–2, 117, 125–8, 178– 80, 248, 284, 303 fêtes galantes 83, 87, 90, 152, 184 fish motifs 3, 69, 207, 258–9 floral imagery 62, 69, 79, 100, 159, 163, 168, 180, 195, 203, 224, 242, 268, 275–6, 278–80, 300, 310 fountains 55, 65, 72, 80, 123, 131, 163, 165, 185; see also gardens, architecture Fragonard, Jean-Honoré 3, 5–6, 11, 15, 55, 56, 82–3, 91, 148, 152, 156, 265, 310 frame 9, 60–62, 78, 97, 112, 123–4, 139, 141, 150, 162–3, 165, 184, 186–8, 190, 195, 203, 207, 218–19, 221, 228, 239, 252, 263, 268, 283, 300 frame vs. framed 61, 69, 71, 97, 150, 152–4, 156, 159, 163, 177, 190, 204, 206, 215, 302, 312 Franciscans 117, 129, 182, 198, 210, 219, 271, 273–5, 279, 284, 297 François de Pâris, “Saint” 6 Francophilia 14, 118, 125, 183–4, 285, 305, 308 Freising (Bavaria), Cathedral 135, 136, 139, 140 French Revolution 5–7, 41–3, 53, 97, 118, 300–301 French Style of preaching; see preaching, affective Friesenhofen (Bavaria) Church of St. Petrus und Paulus 298 frivolity 2–3, 13, 32, 37, 40, 54, 84, 297, 303, 310 Fuentes de Andalucía (Spain), San José 239, 240 Fumaroli, Marc 4, 5, 7, 40 furniture and furnishings 10, 53, 57, 64, 69, 94, 109, 120, 122, 123–4, 130–31, 183–4, 188, 193, 218, 224, 237, 239, 242, 250–51, 266, 270, 273, 275, 309 Gallemayr, Johann Benno 246 gardens 8, 55, 58, 60, 62, 65, 69, 72, 78, 80, 87, 122, 130, 150, 154, 185, 186, 192, 215, 245, 276, 280 architecture 14, 55, 72, 78, 80, 118, 123, 185, 215 garlands 8, 43, 62, 69, 78, 100, 199, 133, 152, 154, 159, 162, 191, 207, 224, 242, 253, 259, 263, 265, 268, 276, 300

408 The Spiritual Rococo

genre pittoresque 65, 71, 130–31, 188, 259, 309 Geoffrin, Mme (Marie-Thérèse Rodet) 28–9, 36, 53, 59, 84–5, 87, 181 de Gergy, Jean-Baptiste Languet 95 Gersaint, Edmé-François 65, 9 gesture 26, 39, 129, 152, 161 gilding 14, 53, 61–2, 64, 78–9, 82, 127, 134–5, 152, 154, 159, 161, 163, 165, 167, 177–8, 186–7, 190, 194–5, 197, 201–3, 205, 210–18. 228, 238–9, 242, 248, 256–7, 259, 262, 268, 270, 277– 8, 286, 297, 305–6, 309, 310 Glam Rock 309 Glöcker, Hans Ulrich 114 gloria (sunburst) 97, 167, 202, 252, 255–7, 268, 282, 300 Goez, Gottfried Bernhard 121, 123–4, 188, 196, 221, 223 goldsmithery 59, 60, 63–5, 73, 78, 123, 161, 168, 178, 180, 190, 205, 207, 210, 224, 248, 250, 259, 283 Gothic 1, 16, 112–13, 149–50, 190, 210, 273, 280, 302 goût à la grecque 2, 9, 43, 300 goût moderne 59, 299 Graneros (Chile), Hacienda La Compañía 270 Griffet, Henri 32–4, 125, 126, 183, 303 grotesques 60, 130, 132, 186, 187, 251, 262 grottoes 8, 123, 152, 186, 192; see also gardens Grueber, Franz 247, 248 Guaraní sculptors Plate 15, Plate 16, 273–4, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 283, 302 Günther, Ignaz Plate 7, 3, 13, 117, 152, 154, 308 Günther, Matthäus Plate 6, 133, 141, 143–4, 150, 151, 163, 280 Gutiérrez, Don Francisco Cándido 285, 304 Guzmán, Fernando 245, 268, 270 Habermann, Franz Xaver 3, 16, 121, 122–4, 188, 193, 196, 207, 224, 226, 242, 254, 255, 256, 257, 259, 263, 266–8, 270, 276, 282, 310 Hagen, Johann 248 Haimhausen (Haimbhausen), Karl 246, 248, 267

Haimhausen (Bavaria), Schloß 145, 198, 246 hameau 55, 113 happiness 2, 5, 23, 25–6, 28, 31–3, 40– 41, 54–9, 69, 79–80, 109, 134, 168, 273, 301, 307 spiritual 6, 14–15, 24–5, 27, 30–37, 39–42, 81, 85, 90, 93, 100, 109, 113, 115, 117, 128, 129, 167–8, 180–81, 215, 218, 224, 238, 285, 304, 308, 312 worldly 36, 39, 93, 117, 33–4, 27 Hårleman, Carl 14 Harls, Anton 244 Haro, Alonso Núñez de, Archbishop of Mexico 297 Harries, Karsten 6, 12, 109, 112, 119, 143, 149–50, 161, 163, 165, 307 Hegenauer, Konrad 298 Hermann, Franz Joseph 300 Hernández Juan Antonio 256, 261, 300 Herre, Michael 246 Hertel, Christiane 5, 13, 109, 111, 117, 128 Hertel, Johann Georg the Elder 120, 121, 122, 123–4, 188, 196, 202, 207, 226, 239, 242, 254, 255, 256, 257, 259, 263, 270, 276, 282 D’Holbach, Paul-Henri, Baron Dietrich 5, 28, 34, 183 holy cards 188, 228, 251 honnête femme 35 honnête homme 23–4, 26, 30, 33–7, 130 honnêteté 76, 79, 109, 179, 304 hôtels particuliers 28–9, 53, 61–2, 64, 65, 69, 76–82, 85, 94, 95, 112, 130, 149, 155, 194, 218, 263, 307, 308 Huet, Christophe 72, 73, 189 Hugo, Herman 79, 81, 82 Huilliche 279, 283 humor 28, 31, 36–7, 39–40, 69, 72, 83, 87, 139, 142 Huquier, Gabriel 55, 64, 67, 68, 73–4, 98, 185, 188–9, 196, 257, 261 Hyde, Melissa 5, 12 iconography Christian 6, 55, 79, 85, 87, 90, 91, 93–4, 100, 120, 122, 124, 134, 136, 139, 141, 144, 152–3, 156–9, 161–3, 167, 182, 189, 224, 225, 228, 252, 268 mythological 78–81, 85, 93, 122

index 409

Ignatius of Loyola 111, 268, 270, 283 illusionistic architecture 119, 137, 139, 141, 143–5, 149, 198, 212, 228 immigrant artists and architects 1, 16, 190, 208–10, 237, 242–8, 262–3, 267, 274–5, 279, 302, 305 intimacy 1, 2, 53, 57–8, 76–8, 83, 84, 85, 90, 94, 95, 109, 179, 182, 262 irmandades 16, 178, 198, 212 Irmscher, Günther 8, 13, 109, 121, 130, 132, 147, 159 Jansenism 25, 26, 27, 30, 43, 93, 94 Jesuits 25, 26, 32, 33, 34, 35, 38, 41, 81, 95, 115, 117, 129, 136–7, 152, 179, 182, 184, 207, 237–8, 242, 243–8, 250, 252, 254–5, 257, 265–8, 270, 271–5, 278–9, 283–5, 303 brother artists 14, 16, 237, 242–5, 247–8, 250, 305 expulsion 33, 248, 250, 255, 256, 257, 265, 266, 279, 284 João V, King 12, 16, 65, 179, 183, 192, 207, 210, 239, 270, 283–4, 186–7 José I, King 178, 184 Junck, Ignaz Karl 121, 122, 123 Jungwierth, Franz Xaver 127, 132 Kant, Immanuel 112, 117, 128, 304 Kelner (Kelnehr, Kellner) Jacob 247, 266, 267 Kempten (Bavaria) 125, 139, 164, 300 Kiev, Church of St Andrew 14, 112 Kilian, Philipp Andreas 124, 225, 228 Kimball, Fiske 9, 10, 12, 97 Klauber brothers (Johann Baptist, Johann Sebastian) 121, 123–4, 165, 188–9, 193, 207, 219, 221, 222, 223, 228, 268 Kohl, Conrad 254, 255 Köhler, Johann 248, 268, 271, 272 Koller, Michael 279 Kollman, Johann 248 Koons, Jeff 310, 311, 312 Kracker, Lucas 148 Kraus, Johannes 237, 243, 253 Kremsmünster Abbey (Austria) 125–7 Krüner (Griner), Benedikt 248 Küchel, Jacob Michael 159 Kuen, Franz Martin 146

La Font de Saint-Yenne, Étienne 3 La Paz (Boliva) 242, 297 Ladvocat, Louis-François 27 Lajoüe, Jacques 3, 11, 31 65, 68, 69, 73–5, 109, 120, 123, 146, 149, 188, 302 Lambert, Mme (Marquise AnneThérèse de Marguenat de Courcelles) 28–30, 35–6, 126, 181, 285 Lamourette, L’Abbé Antoine-Adrien 42, 126, 284–5, 303–4 Landsberg am Lech 248 Johanneskirche Plate 9, 154, 156, 157, 159, 162, 194, 243 landscape 5, 15, 55, 59, 68, 72, 79, 80, 85, 87, 93, 113, 120, 123, 130, 134, 142, 143, 150, 156, 157, 159, 163, 166, 168, 184, 219, 265 Lanz, Georg 248, 249 Lassurance, Pierre 62 Laugier, Abbé Marc-Antoine 4 Lepautre, Pierre 9, 60, 187 Leszczyński, Stanisław (Stanislas) Duke of Lorraine 99 Lespinasse, Julie de 28–9 Letten, Gerhard 252, 254, 255 Levey, Michael 4, 7, 10, 11, 87, 302 Liberace 309 libertinism 5, 23, 28, 31, 54, 58, 87, 310 libraries 15, 68, 125–7, 129, 146, 183, 189, 192, 248, 250, 284–5, 303 Lima (Peru) 242, 297 Lindemayr, Maurus 126 Lisboa, Antônio Francisco (Aleijadinho) 182–3, 208–11, 212, 213, 215, 217, 219, 220, 221, 257 Lisboa, Manuel Francisco 210, 257 Lisbon (Portugal) 14, 177, 179, 181, 183–5, 187, 190–93, 197, 201, 210, 305 ——earthquake 178, 184, 298 ——Paço da Ribeira 184, 188, 146, 165 Lobo, Luís Pinherio Plate 12, 212, 216 Lobo, Silvestre de Faria 186, 187 Lopes, Aniceto 219 Lorea, Isidro 196, 254, 256–61, 257, 258, 259, 260, 300, 305 Lori, Maria 113, 115, 127 Louis XIV 1, 9, 24, 31, 57, 93–4, 97, 118, 125, 129 Louis XV 1, 9, 11, 57, 79, 309 Louis XVI 9, 43, 62

410 The Spiritual Rococo

Louveciennes (France) 55 love 5, 7, 39, 55, 78, 79, 80, 83, 85, 90, 301 spiritual 7, 24–5, 31, 32, 34, 37–8, 40, 42, 47, 79, 80–82, 285 Ludwig, Johann Friedrich (João Frederico Ludovice) 184 Lumières 4, 5, 7, 26, 27, 41, 42; see also philosophers Lunéville (Lorraine) Church of SaintJacques 99, 100 Mabillon, Jean 117, 285 Mably, Gabriel Bonnot de 182–3 Macedo, João Rodrigues de 182 Maclaurin, Oudot de 97, 298 Mafra (Portugal), Palace-Monastery 183–4 Malebranche, Nicolas 26, 42, 117, 126–7, 149, 178 manners 23, 24, 30, 33, 35–6, 38,40, 43, 54, 83 180, 284–5, 305–6, 310 Marchena (Spain), Church of San Miguel 239, 241 Maria Steinbach (Swabia) 133, 163, 165 Mariana (Brazil) 179, 183, 210, 224, 305 Cathedral 182, 209 Mariette, Jean 12, 84, 73, 75, 184, 187, 204 Massillon, Jean-Baptiste 32–3, 40, 43, 126–7, 178, 180, 183, 237, 284, 303 Matos, Antônio Fernandes de 205 Maupertuis, Pierre-Louis Moreau de 28 Mauzi, Robert 25, 30, 35, 303 Max II Emmanuel, Elector 297 Max III Joseph, Elector 298 mayas (reflecting panels) 248 Mayr, Beda, 126, 129 meditation 24, 27, 37, 55, 81, 85, 87, 94, 111, 148, 156, 180, 215, 303, 312 Meissonnier, Juste-Aurèle Plate 3, 3, 9, 11, 63, 64, 65, 67, 68–9, 73–5, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 109, 184, 185, 188, 193, 205, 218, 261, 268, 298, 305, 309 Mendizabal, José Domingo 263 Mercier, Louis-Sébastien 64 Mercedarian 237, 239, 248, 284 Mexico City 238–9, 251, 297 Church of La Enseñanza, 238, 239 Mézières, Nicolas Le Camus de 9, 54, 73 Mezner (Mößner), Joseph 248 Miller, Anton 246, 279, 280, 281, 283

Minas Gerais 17, 178–80, 182, 189, 190, 197–8, 208–10, 212, 219, 222, 225, 228, 275, 299 Minguet, Philippe 3, 10, 54, 63–4, 94, 109, 302 miracles 6, 12, 112–13, 127, 129, 143, 161–6, 179, 306 Miranda, Caetano Luiz 189 mirrors 54, 61–2, 65, 69, 73, 75, 77–8, 82, 94, 130, 139, 153–4, 184, 186, 218, 297, 310–12 missions 1, 16, 115, 242, 246–7, 271–4, 279, 284, 286; see also reductions missionaries 35, 242–5, 273, 286, 305; see also Jesuits, Franciscans Modernism 12, 307, 308 Mogi das Cruzes (Brazil) Third Order Carmelite Church Plate 13, 225, 299 Molé, Guillaume-François-Roger 91 Mondon, Jean 9, 69, 71, 72, 120, 188, 268, 283, 302 monkey imagery; see: singeries moralism 1, 2, 4, 23, 25–7, 29, 31, 34, 36–7, 43, 55, 80, 87, 126–9, 167, 302, 304 Moosbrugger, Andreas 298, 148 Moosbrugger, Peter Anton 300 Morellet, André 84–5 Morlière, Jacques-Rochette de la 57 Mosson, Joseph Bonnier de la 9, 68 Motsch (Metsch, Mätsch, Metz), Martin 246 Munich 14, 114, 118, 120, 125, 130–31, 244, 246, 248, 267 Nymphenburg Palace 118, 119, 123, 131, 133, 205 Residenz 118, 130, 132 music 28, 38–40, 64, 97, 128, 130, 167, 181, 223–4 Nasoni, Niccolò 190 Native American artists 265, 273, 275, 276–9, 283, 286, 302, 305 Natoire, Charles-Joseph 78, 80–82, 85, 91, 142 Nattenhusanus, Mauritius 126 nature 4, 5, 7, 12, 25–7, 55, 58, 69, 111, 117, 144, 163, 166, 183, 215, 283 nature imagery; see animals, flowers, plants, shells Necker, Mme (Suzanne Curchod) 28, 84 Neggs, Johann Simon 123, 208, 227

index 411

Neoclassicism 1–2, 4, 8–9, 11, 178, 210, 228, 239, 298–300, 302, 308; see also goût à la grecque Neumann, Johann Balthasar 117, 159 Neuville, Charles Fray de 32–4, 40, 126–8, 183, 284, 303, 305 Nilson, Johann Esaias 122, 124, 188 Norvins, Jacques 29 Noyer, Mme de 55 Nyberg, Dorothea 11, 12, 63, 307 Oliveira, Domingos Moreira 211, 217 Oliveira, Mateus Vincente 186, 187 Oppenord, Gilles-Marie 55, 64, 73, 74, 95, 97, 99, 184, 188 Ott, Joseph 255 Oratorians 26, 33, 40, 179, 180 organs 97, 100, 123, 134, 139, 167, 195, 198, 239, 274 d’Orleans, Duc 57, 184 ornament books; see books, ornamental ornemenistes 3, 10, 11, 65, 94, 98, 188 Ouro Preto (Brazil) 16, 182, 198, 209, 223–4 Church of São Francisco de Assis Plate 11, 182, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 22, 223, 224, 299 Church of Nossa Senhora do Carmo 210, 257 overdoors 61, 63, 72, 79, 87, 94 panels, wall 55, 61–2, 64, 69, 72, 75, 78, 87, 97, 131, 150, 165, 186–7, 189–90, 196, 201–4, 218, 239, 252, 255–6, 258–9, 263, 268, 270, 275, 278 papillotage 9, 36, 53, 82, 111, 144, 148, 167, 214, 310 Paris 1–3, 8, 11, 13–14, 16, 23, 25, 29, 33, 37, 40, 42, 53–5, 57, 61, 65, 68–9, 73, 91, 93–5, 97–100, 109, 117, 120, 124–6, 130–31, 168, 177–8, 180–81, 183–4, 187, 202, 204, 218, 228, 259, 268, 283, 285, 298, 305, 307–8 Church of Saint-Jean-en-Grève 97, 268 Church of St Médard 6 Church of St Roch 29, 53 Church of Notre-Dame-des-BlancsManteaux 98, 99 Hôtel de Lassay 58

Hôtel de Roquelaure 61, 62, 69, 70, 149 Hôtel de Soubise Plate 1, 65, 74, 75, 76, 77–8, 79–82, 83, 85, 130, 155, 194, 218, 263 Hôtel Rambouillet 28, 57, 58, 59, 62, 63 Louvre 31, 2, 31, 68, 94, 184 Maison Eynaud 61, 62 Saint-Sulpice Plate 3, 95, 96, 97, 98, 184, 298, 261 Paris Parlement 26, 43 Paris, Yves de 26, 126, 127 pastiche 72, 73, 124, 208, 219, 224–5, 251, 302 pastoral imagery 6, 54–5, 57–9, 68, 78–81, 90, 93, 113, 117, 124, 129–30, 134, 143, 148, 159, 162–5, 180, 184, 215, 262, 283, 299, 310; see also Arcadia paternalism 273–4 patronage 4, 5, 11, 55, 59, 75, 85, 87, 127, 132, 137, 168, 178, 183, 185, 197–8, 219, 224, 245, 246, 248, 251, 252, 274, 279, 297, 284, 299, 306; see also women, as patrons Pedrajas, Francisco Xavier 242 Pedro III, Dom 185 Pernambuco (Brazil) 189–90, 197, 204, 207, 209 Perrault, Claude 31, 95 Perrin, Charles Joseph 32, 125–6, 284, 303 perspective distorted 12, 73, 119, 143, 144, 148, 154, 163, 203 oblique (scena per angolo) 60, 65, 68 illusionistic 53, 54, 68, 111, 119, 137, 138, 143–4, 156, 177 petitesse 10, 63, 82 Peyrotte, Alexis 3, 16, 72–3, 188, 196, 258, 257, 258–9, 283, 305 philosophers 5, 7, 25, 27–8, 34, 36, 41–3, 128, 183, 304 pilgrimage and pilgrims 6, 15, 87, 90, 109, 111–13, 115, 127, 129, 142–3, 145, 147, 149, 155, 159, 161–5, 167, 188, 192, 221, 228, 302 Pillement, Jean-Baptiste 72, 120, 188 Pineau, Nicolas 69, 70, 73, 97, 120, 188 Pinto, Inácio Ferreira 199, 203

412 The Spiritual Rococo

plant imagery 7, 25, 55, 60, 69, 72, 81, 113, 120, 130–33, 144, 147, 152, 157, 162, 165, 168, 186, 190, 195, 207, 215, 242, 251, 257, 259, 265–8, 274–9, 282–3, 300, 302 pleasure; see happiness pleasure-dairies 62, 113 polite society 7, 10, 23–4, 27–8, 30–31, 33–40, 42, 53–4, 57–9, 69, 76, 83, 87, 90, 168, 304 reciprocity 25–7, 29–31, 34–5, 37, 58, 79, 83, 85, 90, 125, 127, 180 as spiritual exercise 7, 26, 38 politesse 23, 27–8, 30, 32, 36, 38, 55, 85, 205; see also polite society Pöllants, Franz 248, 271, 272 Polling (Baviara) 125, 127 Pombal, Marquis de 178, 201, 298 Pommersfelden (Franconia), Schloß Weißenstein, 245 Pompadour, Madame de 3, 90 Pontenevel, Bishop Frei Domingos da Encarnação 179, 183 popular piety 5–6, 111, 115, 128, 147, 163, 164, 165, 166, 168 15, 113 porcelain 10, 72, 121, 122, 192 Porto (Portugal) 188, 190, 305 Church of Santa Clara 190–91, 192, 196, 205 portraiture 85, 122, 189, 221, 250, 268 Pouilly, Louis-Jean Lévesque 38–9, 82, 126, 128, 303, 306 Pozzo, Andrea 119, 134, 136, 137, 139, 141–2, 196–7, 224, 268 Prague 113, 125, 144, 149, 246, 305 Church of Saint Giles (Sv Jiljí) 143, 144 preaching 15, 25–6, 31–4, 37–9, 40, 41, 43, 53, 121, 125–6, 129, 142, 154, 165, 178–9, 180, 182–3, 237, 279, 284–5, 303–4 affective (French style) 31, 32, 37, 42, 126, 129, 179–80, 284 classical rhetoric 31, 37 Jesuit style 25, 26, 31–3 Primoli, Giovanni Battista, 237, 243, 254, 273 prints 3, 9–10, 12, 15–17, 39, 43, 60, 64–5, 68, 72–4, 80–81, 84, 95, 98, 109, 117–18, 120–25 130–34, 147, 150, 165, 177, 180, 183–4, 187–9, 193, 198, 204, 208, 210, 218–19,

221–4, 226–8, 237, 251–2, 254, 256, 268, 270, 277, 280, 282, 302, 304, 312; see also books collecting 12, 16, 73–4, 77, 120–21, 131, 179, 184, 187–9 distribution 15, 72–5, 99, 124–5, 177, 187–9, 192, 251, 304 subjects 72–9, 120, 12–14, 131, 188, 189, 228 use of 17, 73–5, 119, 120–24, 131, 151, 189, 192–3, 196–7, 207–8, 219, 225, 228, 251–2, 255–9, 261, 263, 270, 277, 282, 286, 304 processions 6, 94, 109, 127, 142–3, 147, 152, 161–2, 165, 221–3, 224, 284 Protestantism 7, 14–15, 33, 43, 122, 125, 144 Puisieux, Mme de (Madeleine d’Arsant) 30, 39 pulpits 16, 33–4, 38, 53–4, 72, 97–9, 121, 123–4, 129, 148, 150, 152–3, 178–9, 187–8, 192, 195, 207, 212, 238, 248– 51, 256, 258–9, 263, 265, 275, 278, 285, 297, 298 quadratura 137, 197 quadro riportato 224 Queluz 16, 185–7 Pleasure Palace 185, 186, 187 Quillard, Pierre-Antoine 184 Rabelo (José de Oliverira Barbosa) 206, 207 Rambouillet, Château 57, 62–3 Rambouillet, Marquise de 28, 57, 59 Rastrelli, Bartolomeo, 14, 112 Rationalism 5, 7, 17, 25, 27, 30, 34, 36, 41–4, 117, 128, 179, 180–81; see also Enlightenment Rauch, Jakob 154, 156 Recife (Brazil) 207 Carmelite Church 207, 208 Nossa Senhora da Conçeicão dos Militares 204, 205, 206 Redle, Johann 248, 250 Reductions 250, 272–5, 278, 283; see also missions Reicholzried (Bavaria), Church of Saints George and Florian, 300 Reinegg, Anton Sepp von 243 Reiner, Wenzel Lorenz 143, 144, 300

index 413

Regency 1, 57, 95, 120, 123, 127, 130, 132, 162, 187, 202, 262 regionalism 16, 118, 122, 124, 133, 165, 177, 190, 197, 219, 239, 242, 250–51, 265, 270, 273–9, 282–3, 286, 302–5; see also Sonderformen relaxation 5, 26, 57, 59. 72. 76, 82 religious orders 117, 129, 132, 178, 297 reliquaries 239, 248 Renaissance 3, 23, 34, 55, 60, 74, 76, 79–80, 95, 144, 190, 242, 283, 286, 298, 302, 306 Renou, Antoine 87 Restout, Jean 93, 79, 80, 85, 93 Retablistas, see retablo makers retablo makers 14, 202, 237, 246, 255–6, 262–3, 275, 299 retablos (including retábulo) 17, 177, 187, 190, 194, 197, 203, 210–12, 218, 238–9, 242, 250–52, 255–7, 259, 261–3, 265, 266, 268, 270, 273, 275, 277–8, 282–4, 297, 300, 302, 305 ribbons/bows 43, 53, 59, 60, 62, 69, 297 Ribeiro, Myriam 12, 178, 190, 203, 211, 224 Rigl, Franz 124, 219, 222 Rincklake, Wilhelm 308 Rio de Janeiro (Brazil) 16, 182, 189–90, 192, 197, 201, 207, 209, 223, 228, 262, 275, 299, 305, 309 Church of Nossa Senhora do Carmo da Antiga Sé 201, 202, 203, 204, 228 Church of Nossa Senhora Mãe dos Homens 199, 200 Santa Rita de Cássia 200, 201 Robillon, Jean-Baptiste 186 rocaille 8–10, 14, 43, 60, 63, 69, 72, 82, 99–100, 109, 112, 119–20, 123–4, 127, 131, 133–4, 143–7, 149, 150, 154, 157, 159, 161–2, 165, 167–8, 184, 186, 188, 190, 192, 194, 196, 198, 202–4, 207–8, 212, 215, 218, 224–5, 228, 239, 242, 251, 255–6, 261–3, 268, 270, 275, 277–8, 280, 283, 298, 299, 300, 302, 305, 307, 310–11 Rococo and architecture 13, 62–5, 68–9, 122, 149–50, 154, 194, 195, 202, 280, 286 and Baroque 8, 10, 12, 17, 23, 57, 60, 62, 64, 74, 76, 78–9, 82, 85, 87, 93–7, 111, 119, 136, 144, 146, 149, 184, 186, 190–91, 228, 242, 251, 257, 283, 285

brushwork 82, 83 142, 148, 150, 156 and decorative arts 2, 6, 12, 63, 68, 76, 94 definition of style 8–9, 10, 30, 53, 57, 69, 119 and domesticity 3, 55 and femininity 3–4, 10, 12, 55, 94, 307, 310 and freedom 5–6, 11, 55, 301, 302 free form nature of 1, 5, 11, 60, 130, 133, 190, 195, 197, 218, 259, 265 and Italy 4, 9, 10–11, 16, 60, 97, 119–20, 123, 133–5, 139, 177, 191, 201, 224 and light 54, 77–8, 82, 90, 112, 142, 148–9, 153, 155–6, 161–2, 167, 194, 218, 224, 255, 257, 262, 283 lightness in 12, 134. 60, 62, 134, 178, 190, 197, 201, 203, 206, 213, 215, 286 metamorphosis in 60, 65, 74, 120, 121, 150, 153, 154, 156–7, 265, 279 and modernity 16–17, 19, 40, 95, 177, 184, 197, 201, 266, 283–4, 297, 307, 309 non-specificity of 90 playfulness in 12, 60, 69, 111, 153, 302, 312 as refuge 4, 5, 10, 29, 55, 57, 59, 62, 69, 72, 76, 79, 82, 168, 180, 301, 302 reputation of 1–10, 13–14, 43, 68, 74, 85, 87, 94, 96, 98, 178, 297–9, 303, 305–7, 311, 309, 312 revival of 10, 12, 299, 307–12, 254 as a revolt , 2, 7, 12, 23, 307, 309 scholarship on 2–8, 10–13, 15, 85, 117–18, 207–9, 210, 273 and self-awareness 1, 2, 5, 10, 11, 13, 54, 121, 153, 177, 302, 307 Rodrigues, Pedro João 192 Rohan, Hercule Mériadec de 76, 80 Rome 95–6, 134–9, 147, 165, 183, 187, 268 Il Gesù 95, 136, 138, 205, 268 St. Peter’s 95, 97, 135, 159, 255 S. Maddalena al Pantheon 134, 135 S. Maria della Vittoria 137 S. Ignazio 137, 139 Rosa, José de Oliveira 202, 204 Roscher, Georg Michael 121 123, 124, 239 Rösser, Banz Benedictine Columban 128–9, 181

414 The Spiritual Rococo

Rott-am-Inn (Bavaria) 114 Abbey Church Plate 7, 133, 149, 154, 156 Rottenbuch, Abbey Church Plate 6, 141, 144, 150, 151, 165, 280 Rousseau, Jean-Jacques 4, 5, 26, 28, 31, 34, 40, 42, 54–5, 83, 180, 183 Rubens, Peter Paul 87, 187, 4, 85 Rudolf, Christian Friedrich 121, 124, 255 Rue Saint-Jacques presses 15, 16, 72–3, 99, 118, 120, 305 Rugendas, Johann Moritz 267, 247 rural life 113, 115, 124–5, 128–9, 163–5, 168; see also popular piety Sacred Heart, cults of 6, 7 sacristy cabinets 246, 193, 250, 254, 265, 270 Sacramento, Manoel do Plate 13, 225 Sainscy, Marchal Louis-PierreSébastien 55 Saint Francis de Sales 24–6, 32, 125–6, 180–81, 285 Saint-Julien, Louis-Guillaume Baillet 90 salons and salon culture 1, 5, 6, 14–16, 23, 28–9, 32–8, 40–41, 54–5, 57–9, 61–2, 65, 69, 70, 76–80, 82, 84–5, 87, 94, 113, 117, 130, 149, 155, 168, 178–82, 184, 190, 194, 204, 218, 263, 283, 299, 303, 308, 310 salonnières 4, 28–9, 33, 35–6, 39, 59, 84–5, 181, 285 Salvador (Brazil) 189, 197, 205, 207 San Francisco de Atyrá (Paraguay) 277 San Ignacio Miní (Paraguay) 272, 278 Sancta Clara, Abraham a 165 Santa Catalina (Argentina), Jesuit estancia 244, 266 Santiago (Chile) 1, 16, 248, 250–51, 267, 286, 303 Cathedral 193, 246, 250, 251, 271, 272 Colegio Máximo 246, 248, 250, 269 Jesuit Church of San Miguel 245–6, 247, 248, 250, 266, 267, 270 La Merced 248, 249, 254, 261 San Juan Evangelista 266, 268 Santa Ana 301 Santos, Antonio dos 299 São Felix (Brazil), Church of Deus Menino 190, 207, 209 São João del-Rei (Brazil) 182, 212

Church of São Francisco Plate 12, 209–12, 214, 215, 216, 217–18, 221, 262 São Miguel, Frei Jacinto de 179, 180 Sao Paulo (Brazil) 197, 225, 228, 303 Church of São Francisco 308, 309 Sardi, Guiseppe 134, 135 Sartori, Tiberius 129 Sceaux, Château 57, 308 Schelle, Augustin 117, 128 Schleißheim (Bavaria), Schloß 142 Schmidt, Joseph 243, 254, 256 Schmuzer, Franz Xaver Plate 6, Plate 8, 141, 145, 150, 151, 153, 155, 280, 311 Schmuzer, Joseph 141, 145, 150, 151 scholasticism 31, 117, 128, 129 Schwarzhueber, Simpert 127, 147, 165 science 9, 32, 39, 41, 79, 117, 127, 246 Scott, Katie 12, 58, 73 Scripture 34, 39, 79, 117, 127, 128, 181 scrolls/scroll work 4, 7, 8, 60–62, 69, 100, 123, 152–4, 184, 195, 197, 207, 218–19, 224, 239, 251, 255–6, 262, 265–6, 268, 277; see also C–scrolls secularism 6, 7, 27, 34–6, 39–43, 87, 117, 178, 189, 303–5, 309, 312 Sedlmayr, Hans 6–8, 10, 35, 69, 109, 134, 148, 150 Segaud, Guillaume de 32, 40, 125–7, 284 sensuality 5, 13, 26–7, 35–6, 38, 43, 57– 8, 69, 85, 90, 93, 115, 129, 136, 180 Sepúlveda, João de Deus 206, 207 sermons 5, 7, 14–15, 26–7, 29, 30–31, 33, 35, 37–8, 53, 85, 117, 125–6, 128–9, 142, 162, 167, 179, 183, 222, 237, 238, 284–5, 303–5 Servandoni, Nicolas 95, 97, 298 Setlezki, Balthazar Sigmund 121–4, 133, 308 shells 3, 7–9, 62, 69, 74, 78, 97, 127, 131, 133, 147–8, 152, 154, 186, 191, 193, 195–6, 207, 215, 219, 255–6, 268, 278, 283 collecting 8, 9 shell work (coquillage) 8, 195, 204, 210, 218, 221, 224–5, 228, 268 Sheriff, Mary 5, 8, 11, 54–5, 82, 85, 158 shrines 7, 113, 143, 147, 149, 154, 159, 161–5, 168, 199, 244 da Silva, Bernardo Pires 224–5 da Silva, Miguel Francisco 191, 192

index 415

silversmithery 32, 59, 60, 63, 69, 96–7, 130, 165, 206, 248, 250, 267–8, 274, 297 silversmiths 11, 60, 63–5, 184–6, 248, 250 singeries 71–2 Sluščanskis, Matas Motiejus 146 Soares, André, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195 sociability; 2, 31, 53, 117 see also polite society Sonderformen 8, 134; see also regional forms soul 24, 29, 30, 32, 35, 36, 38, 40–41, 80–82, 87, 150, 165, 208 Southern Cone (Cono Sur) 13, 16, 17, 237, 239, 242–3, 250 Spiegler, Franz Joseph Plate 5, 146, 147–8, 150, 153 spiritual literature; see treatises, sermons Spiritual Rococo 5, 7, 14–16, 23, 26–41, 43–4, 55, 58, 76, 79–80, 82–3, 111, 117, 125, 127, 129, 168, 178, 180, 183, 237, 273, 284–5, 303–6 definition 27–28, 30–34 predecessors 23–6 Steingaden (Bavaria), Abbey Church Plate 8, 153, 155, 312 Stockholm, Royal Palace 14 Stoicism 7, 11 stone work 62, 94, 177, 185, 190, 197, 199, 201, 207, 212 pedra lioz 185, 218, 251, 279, 297 pedra-sabão 212 stucco 12, 14, 16, 40, 53, 62, 64, 76, 78–9, 100, 113–14, 118–20, 130–34, 136, 139, 141, 144–50, 152, 154, 156, 159, 161–2, 166–7, 177, 190, 205–7, 211, 218, 242, 265–6, 297–9, 300, 305 Stuckmarmor (false marble painting) 132–3, 156–7, 159, 162, 167, 214, 270 Stukkatoren (stucco masters) 114, 118, 120, 122, 127, 129, 132–3, 246, 259, 300 Sypher, Wylie 2, 7, 11, 307 talha 177, 190, 194, 197, 199, 201, 202, 207, 228 tarja 192, 196–7, 200, 202, 262, 309 taste 4, 9, 26, 28, 32, 35, 37, 65, 68–9, 94, 97, 118, 120, 130, 177, 180, 184, 186, 210, 228, 263, 297, 298, 304–5

Tegernsee (Bavaria) 114, 115, 117, 125, 134, 248 Tencin, Mme (Claudine Guérin, Baronne de Saint-Martinde-Ré) 28–9, 36 textiles 53, 62, 64, 71, 76, 184, 192, 250, 268, 283; see also costume, fashion theatre 25, 27, 38–9, 65, 87, 123, 126, 129, 136, 143, 147, 217, 222, 224, 252, 276 theatricality 23, 25–6, 30–31 111–12, 147, 219, 221, 228 Theatrum Sacrum 112, 136, 157 Thelot, Jacob Gottlieb 122, 123 Third Orders 16, 178, 182, 189, 198, 207, 210, 212, 225 Thirty Years War 138, 164 Tibães (Portugal), Church of São Martinho 3, 179, 188–90, 191, 192, 194, 195, 196–7, 201–3, 205, 207, 218, 270, 279 Tiepolo, Giovanni Battista 141 Töpsl, Franz 126–7 translations 15–16, 41, 81, 124–5, 179, 182, 303 Trémolières, Pierre–Charles 79–80, 83 treatises 5, 9, 15, 24–5, 27–8, 127–8, 180, 182–3, 228, 237, 284, 305–6 spiritual 4–7, 14–16, 26–7, 29, 30, 35–44, 58, 76, 79, 81, 85, 90, 94, 117, 125–8, 179–80, 183, 189, 218 trelliswork 62, 78, 150, 154, 162, 215, 242, 255, 265–6, 268, 277, 280, 283, 300 trophées (trophies) 43, 62, 72, 97, 188–9, 251, 261, 300 Trublet, l’Abbé Charles-Joseph 29, 36–7, 111, 126, 180, 183, 284, 304–6 Uberlingen (Swabia), Church of St. Niklaus 114, 153 unity of the media (arts) 64–5, 68, 113, 119–20, 132, 134, 136–7, 148–50, 152, 204, 251–2, 259, 270 Van Loo, Carle 79, 80, 84–5, 86 Vasques, José 199 Venice 4, 10, 11, 16, 55, 119, 134, 141–3 Verberckt, Jacques 11, 59, 62, 63, 78, 79 Verdejo, Gerónimo 274–5 Versailles, Château 8, 11, 24, 55, 57, 59, 62, 80, 97, 183

416 The Spiritual Rococo

Vianen, Paulus van 60 Vieira, António 179–80, 182, 197 Vienna (Austria) 29, 125, 129–30, 137, 165, 186 Gardekirche 13, 152, 155 Vierzehnheiligen (Franconia) 113, 115, 116, 117, 159, 161, 163, 195 viewers engagement with 6, 9, 13, 43, 54–5, 76–8, 82–3, 87, 90, 111–13, 136–7, 142, 144–5, 147–8, 152, 154–9, 161– 3, 167–8, 215, 217, 261, 302, 312 interference with 54–5, 77, 111–12, 136–7, 144–5, 147–8, 152, 154–8, 161, 163, 168, 194, 204, 214, 224, 262, 265, 302 Vila Rica; see Ouro Preto Vilaça, José de Santo António 189–90, 191, 192, 194, 195 Vilnius (Lithuania), Church of the Holy Spirit (Šv Dvasios) 112, 146 virtue 24–7, 30, 34–5, 41, 55, 128, 139, 310 Vogl, Peter 246, 247, 248 Voltaire 4, 5, 28, 33–4, 36, 41–2, 54, 69, 129, 178, 182–3, 273, 283, 285 volupté (voluptuousness) 26, 28, 30, 38, 41, 57, 87, 90 Wachsmuth, Jeremias 122–4, 188 Watteau, Jean Antoine Plate 2, 3–5, 9, 15, 29, 35, 72–3, 82–3, 84, 85, 87, 90–91, 93, 120, 130, 134, 152, 156, 180, 184, 189, 308 Weger, Peter 237, 252 Weiss, Joseph Ignaz 300 Wessobrunn stucco workshops 14, 16, 114–15, 118, 122, 127, 129, 130, 132–3, 246, 259 Wieskirche (Bavaria) Plate 10, 10, 13, 110, 111, 113, 115–17, 127–8, 148, 155, 159, 160, 161–3, 195, 214, 218

windows 54, 61–2, 77, 78, 96–7, 120, 122, 130, 135, 149–50, 155–7, 163, 177, 186, 190–96, 202, 207, 218–19, 253–4 Wolff, Jeremias 60, 120, 122, 265 Wolff, Johannes 237, 243, 252 women 3–4, 26–32, 35, 38–9, 43, 54, 79, 80–81, 85, 87, 90, 117, 180–81, 198, 297, 305; see also Salonnières as authors 29–30, 35, 85, 181 equality of women 30, 39, 80, 85, 117 as patrons 4, 29, 59, 72, 84–5, 87 sexualization of 4, 87 wood carving 3, 16, 62, 78, 152, 156, 177, 186, 189–91, 194–5, 197, 199, 201–4, 206, 209–11, 214, 217–18, 242, 245–8, 255, 270, 273–4, 278–80, 283, 298, 309; see also boiseries, talha workshops 1, 11–12, 114, 133, 209, 212, 246, 250, 256; see also, Calera de Tango, Tegernsee, Wessobrunn, Yaguarón Yaguarón (Paraguay) 274–9 Church of San Buenaventura Plate 15, 274, 275, 276 Yonan, Michael 10, 13, 109, 111–13, 128, 152, 162 Yvon, L’Abbé Claude 42 Žd’ár nad Sázavou (Bohemia), Church of Saint John Nepomuk 113 Zimmerman, Dominikus 3, 110, 114, 132–3, 149, 154–5, 157, 159, 161–3, 178, 196, 218 Zimmerman, Johann Baptist Plate 9, 118–19, 130–33, 142, 143, 150, 156, 157, 159, 161–3, 205 Zwiefalten Abbey (Swabia) Plate 5, 129, 146, 147–50, 153, 154, 163, 214, 221

1 Germain Boffrand, Salon de la Princesse at the Hôtel de Soubise, Paris, 1738–1740. Photo: Author

2 Jean-Antoine Watteau, Holy Family, ca. 1715. Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg. Photograph © The State Hermitage Museum/photo by Vladimir Terebenin, Leonard Kheifets, Yuri Molodkovets

3 Juste-Aurèle Meissonnier, study for the façade of Saint-Sulpice, Paris, 1726. Ink, gouache, and watercolor on paper. Waddesdon, The Rothschild Collection (The National Trust)

4 Festsaal, Schaezlerpalais, Augsburg, 1765–1770. Photo: Author

5 Franz Joseph Spiegler, Saint Benedict and his Followers Pay Homage to the Virgin Mary and the Holy Trinity, nave fresco with stuccoes by Johann Michael Feichtmayr, Abbey Church, Zwiefalten, Swabia, 1751. Photo: Author

6 Matthäus Günther and Joseph and Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave, Abbey Church, Rottenbuch, Bavaria, 1737–1745. Photo courtesy Peta Gillyatt Bailey

7 Ignaz Günther, Saint Notburga, polychrome limewood, Benedictine Abbey church of Rott am Inn, 1760–1762. Photo: Author

8 Franz Xaver Schmuzer, nave pendentive cartouches, Abbey Church, Steingaden, Bavaria, 1740–1741. Photo: Author

9 Johann Baptist Zimmermann, High Altar (detail), Johanneskirche, Landsberg am Lech, Bavaria, 1752. Photo: Author

10 Church of “Die Wies” (Wieskirche), Bavaria, detail of apse. Photo courtesy Michael Mertens

11 Manuel da Costa Ataíde, Apparition of Our Lady of Porciúncula, nave ceiling painting, São Francisco in Ouro Preto, Brazil, 1802. Vault constructed 1772–1774. Photo courtesy Percival Tirapeli (Baroque Churches of Brazil, Sao Paulo: Metalivros, 2008), photo by Jacob Gelwan

12 Luís Pinheiro and Francisco de Lima Cerqueira (?), Capela-Mor, São Francisco in São João del-Rei, Brazil, begun 1781, altarpiece begun 1790. Photo courtesy Mozart Alberto Bonazzi da Costa

13 Manoel do Sacramento, The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, Third Order Carmelite church, Mogi das Cruzes, Brazil, 1802. Photo: Author

14 Pedro Carmona, side altar (detail), El Pilar, Buenos Aires, ca. 1771. Photo: Author

15 José de Sousa Cavadas and Guaraní sculptors, High Altar, San Buenaventura, Yaguarón, Paraguay, ca. 1752–1755. Photo: Author

16 Guaraní workshop, High Altar and chancel (detail), Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria, Capiatá, Paraguay, completed 1769. Photo: Author