In Italy, during the Baroque period, sculptors produced works as capital as those of the 1500s. One of the most esteemed sculptures from the beginning of the Baroque period is St. Cecilia (1600), by Stefano Maderno at the high altar of Santa Cecilia in Trastevere (Rome): a beautiful fallen young body.
Maderno’s St. Cecilia has become a Christian symbol of overcoming hatred and prosecution. In this sculpture executed in 1600, Maderno foreshadowed many of the poetic impulses that would later flourish throughout the Baroque. St. Cecilia aims right at the viewer, directly engaging with feelings and igniting emotions in a way that Bernini and Caravaggio will later perfect. The sculpture was commissioned by Cardinal Paolo Emilio Sfondrato, the titular cardinal of the church, who ordered excavations of the building to find the remains of St. Cecilia. The discovery of her supposed entire and uncorrupt body on 20 October 1599 led Sfondrato to commission Maderno to reconstruct the altar and to carve, as its centerpiece, a statue of the recumbent saint. Maderno sculpted St. Cecilia following the way her body was supposedly found: uncorrupt, lying on her side, clad in a mantle, with her veiled head turned towards the ground. However, the statue is an invention of Maderno, though loosely based on the description of St. Cecilia’s body.
St. Cecilia is lying on her right side, wearing a long dress that is stuck in between her knees, which allows the viewer to see her body shape. Her hands are located in front of her legs, has if they were tied before. Her face is turned away from the viewer making the back of her neck visible, displaying the cuts made by the executioner’s axe. The saint’s body looks as if it were still warm giving the impression that the event has just occurred, right under the eyes of the viewer. Some of St. Cecilia’s right hand fingers extend off the marble breaking the barrier between the statue and the visiting pilgrims, as if reaching for them.
But the greatest Italian baroque sculptor was Gian Lorenzo Bernini, who we have mentioned before as an architect for his marvelous design of Sant’Andrea al Quirinale, for his intervention in the Barberini Palace and in the interior decoration of the Vatican basilica, as well as for his urbanization of Saint Peter’s square and several decorative fountains in Rome. After being almost idolized by his generation, when the neoclassical reaction arrived he was bitterly criticized: “Smash Bernini’s tail!” Johann Joachim Winckelmann exclaimed. Winckelmann, a German art historian and archeologist, had a decisive influence on the rise of the Neoclassical movement during the late 18th century. Such was the formula of the men of the neoclassical restoration who had invented the word baroque as a derogatory epithet. The reappraisal of Bernini’s sculpture, which opposes forms open in all directions to the logical and closed forms of the Renaissance, has been the work of 20th-century critics.
Called in Rome cavaliere Bernini, he was born in Naples in December 7, 1598. His father, Mannerist sculptor Pietro Bernini, was from Florence and his main merit seems to be that of having been able to give his son an artistic direction; Pietro ended his career as an independent sculptor evidently happy to act as his son’s assistant. Gian Lorenzo, precocious as all great artists generally are, gave in his group of The Goat Amalthea with the Infant Jupiter and a Faun (ca. 1609-1615)—carved when he was between 11 and 17 years old— proof of his exceptional fantasy and his technical mastery with marble. This small sculpture, made in imitation of the ancient Roman and Greek art, represents an episode of Classical mythology. Jupiter’s father, Saturn, devoured his children because it was prophesied that one of them would usurp his throne. In consequence, Jupiter’s mother fled to Crete where he was born secretly in a cave. To trick Saturn, she gave him a large stone wrapped in swaddling clothes which he unknowingly swallowed instead of his son. Jupiter grew up on the slopes of Mount Ida in Crete and was raised by nymphs who fed him with wild honey and the milk from the goat Amalthea. Young Bernini sculpted a chubby baby Jupiter accompanied by the goat Amalthea and an infant Faun.
But Gian Lorenzo began to be noticed in Rome with the funerary monument of Bishop Giovanni Battista Santoni (ca. 1613-1616), butler of Pope Sixtus V, in the church of Santa Prassede (Rome). Bernini set the life-size marble bust of Santoni in an oval frame behind and in between a broken pediment. The bust an pediment crown an elaborate frame ornamented at the top and at both sides by three cherubim, also by Bernini. The bust of Santoni shows Bernini’s ability (even as a young age) with the carving of the marble: for example, the transition from skin to hair is almost imperceptible.
Cardinal Scipione Borghese, passionate about the ancient Greek and Roman statues with which he had built a precious collection in his marvelous Villa Borghese, took the young Bernini to his service as restorer and, satisfied with his work, commissioned him to undertake various sculptural works for his lavish villa. In 1620 Borghese commissioned a statue of David (1623-1624). David was Scipione Borghese’s last commission for Bernini. In it, Gian Lorenzo, who was then 24 years old, went further than any other sculptor in the representation of energy and movement. David’s body is twisted, in the act of slinging the stone that will bring down Goliath, and represents the polar opposite of the Platonic grace of the other Davids by Donatello and Verrocchio, and even Bernini’s is more alive than the epic David of Michelangelo. His face, frowning and biting his upper lip, directs a violent look, full of energy. With this work, Bernini plastically realized the ideal of the new historical moment to which the Baroque corresponded: the fighting spirit of the counterreformation. The fire that Saint Ignatius, a Spanish Catholic priest, one of the founders of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuit order) and an instrumental figure in leading the Counter-Reformation against Protestantism, wanted to launch on earth makes the hard muscles of this David tremble in a fiery movement. Apparently, the face of this statue is a self-portrait of Bernini himself, and it is said that his great admirer, Cardinal Maffeo Barberini, held up a mirror from which the sculptor modeled during the execution of the work.
Bernini’s David differed from earlier celebrated David sculptures on the same subject in various significant ways. At first glance, the sculpture is no longer self-contained, but interacts with the space around it. This hasn’t been seen in sculpture since the Hellenistic period (see the Winged Victory of Samothrace). For a dynamic composition, Bernini here relied on the spiral; the sculpture thus can be appreciated from different points of view. When viewed from the right side, we can see David’s movements, his stride as he aims his sling; when seen from the front his pose is frozen, just one second before his shot…
Also, compared to earlier sculptures of David, Bernini followed the biblical passage as closely as possible. Unlike the earlier Davids, Bernini’s carries a shepherd’s pouch across his chest containing pebbles ready to use against Goliath. David’s clothing is also typical of a shepherd, which he was. At his feet lies the armor of Saul, King of Israel, who gave it to David to be used in the battle; as David was unaccustomed to it, he refused to wear it. At his feet is also David’s harp in reference to him being the Psalmist and a talented harpist. The harp is decorated with an eagle’s head, a symbolic reference to the Borghese family, who commissioned the statue. David’s tense facial expression was modelled after Bernini’s own face as he struggled with his tools to work the hard marble.
In 1621-1622 he executed the group of The Rape of Proserpina, based on the contrast between the gnarled and robust musculature of the underground god and the sweetness of the graceful, abducted goddess of spring. The sculpture motif is based on the Classical myth of Proserpina, as told in both Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Claudian’s De Raptu Proserpinae (4th century AD): Proserpina, the Roman goddess of agriculture and daughter of Jupiter and Ceres, is gathering flowers when she is abducted by the god of the underworld, Pluto. Pluto appears through the ground in a chariot pulled by four black horses, and takes Proserpina down into the underworld with him. Her mother Ceres, though, heard her daughter scream in anguish. As a retaliation, Ceres dried the earth and caused harvests to fail, forcing Jupiter to negotiate a deal: Pluto and Ceres would each have Proserpina for half the year. The myth thus symbolizes the changing of the seasons: when Proserpina is with Pluto, nature dies and Winter begins; when she lives with her mother Ceres, the earth is in Spring.
In his sculpture, Bernini depicted the specific moment of the abduction of Proserpina: Pluto is shown holding Proserpina aloft, and Cerberus (his three-headed dog, guardian of the gates of the underworld) sits next to the figures symbolizing the border into the underworld where Pluto is taking Proserpina.
The detail of the pressure of Pluto’s iron, brute fingers sinking into the flowing skin of the beautiful Proserpina had not yet been achieved by any sculptor of any age, as well as the subtle detail of Proserpina’s tears. The mastery of Bernini in the handling of the marble allows for a varied treatment of the sculpture’s surfaces, from the roughness of Cerberus’s pelt to the sensual softness of Proserpine’s flesh, which transcend the physical properties of the stone in Bernini’s powerful simulation of reality.
Between 1622 and 1625 he sculpted the even more celebrated group of Apollo and Daphne (1622-1625), conceived as an animated painting, almost a spectacle. It is an illustration of Ovid’s classic passage that describes the myth of the chaste nymph Daphne, who, chased by Apollo, saves herself from him by transforming into a laurel tree. Apollo —characterized with the face of the famous Apollo Belvedere— is about to reach the young woman, at whom he looks with intense desire; she utters a cry of fear asking for the Gods’ help, while her hair turns into leaves, her arms into branches and roots grow at her feet. A protective bark grows around her lithe, bare body, smooth and fine as that of a supernatural nymph. This was the last work, and the best, that Bernini made for Cardinal Scipione Borghese.
Appointed Knight of Christ in 1622 by Gregory XV, from which time he was always called “knight Bernini” (cavaliere Bernini), his exceptional fortune began in 1623 when his great admirer, Cardinal Maffeo Barberini —the one who held the mirror for him during the execution of his David—, ascended to the pontifical throne with the name of Urban VIII. It is said that he then said to the artist: “It is lucky for you to have Cardinal Barberini as Pope; but it is an even greater happiness for me that the knight Bernini lives under my pontificate.”
Few artists have come to enjoy the consideration and appreciation of intellectuals and great personalities as Bernini did. We will see how, when dealing with the conclusion of the Louvre palace, Bernini was called to Paris by King Louis XIV to give his opinion on the different projects, and although his plan was not executed, the then Minister of State Jean-Baptiste Colbert never failed to show the great esteem in which he had the great Roman sculptor.
We have already described the interior decoration of Saint Peter in Rome and its baldachin. Complementing it are the statues placed in the four niches that open at the foot of the gigantic pillars of the dome. That of Saint Longinus was completed by Bernini in 1638, six years before the death of Urban VIII.
In past essays we described how, in 1627, Bernini replaced Carlo Maderno as the chief architect for St. Peter’s Basilica and managed the construction projects until 1647. Besides overseeing the new interior decoration in St. Peter’s, Bernini was also responsible for the execution of several works, one of them being the statue of Saint Longinus (1631-1638) placed in the north-eastern niche in the crossing of St. Peter’s Basilica. Due to its immense size, Saint Longinus was made from four pieces of marble. Saint Longinus as well as other three massive statues were commissioned for the niches located under the crossing of St Peter’s below the dome. Longinus, the blind Roman soldier who speared Jesus in the side during the crucifixion, allegedly converted to Christianity after the event. When converting to Christianity, he was cured of his blindness.
In his sculpture of St. Longinus, Bernini captured the specific moment when he experiences his spiritual awakening: his face looks up towards the sky and his mouth appears partially open in awe, his hair is disorganized, his arms widely opened (a pose unprecedented for statuary) as a gesture of receiving the divine light which in real life comes through the windows of St. Peter’s Basilica’s dome. He holds the holy lance to one side, while his armor and weapons lay behind him as a symbol of him having renounced to his career as a Roman soldier.
St. Longinus also exemplifies how Bernini used a careful depiction of a subject’s clothing to enhance the drama of the scene: the saints’ clothes twist and billow around him with great intensity and become a visual representation of Longinus’s spiritual awakening. The treatment of fabric by Bernini in his sculptures are also a device to represent movement. But his mastery of the chiaroscuro, the contrast between light and dark, served to heighten the drama of a scene, particularly in the clothing, creating pockets of shadow.
At different times during his long life, Bernini also executed in the Vatican the majestic Chair of Saint Peter, the famous Escala Regia, a true prodigy of Baroque scenery, and the great tombs of his patrons Urban VIII and Alexander VII.
The tomb of Pope Urban VIII (1627-1647) is located on the Northern wall of the main apsis of St. Peter’s Basilica. At the center of the massive monument sits a bronze sculpture of the Pope giving benediction atop a high pedestal, on the floor at either side of the sarcophagus and carved in contrasting white marble are the figures of Charity and Justice. Behind the sarcophagus the figure of the Death (also in bronze) is writing the name of the Pope into the book of eternal memory.
The Tomb of Pope Alexander VII (1671-1678) is the second monumental papal tomb designed by Bernini and executed by him together with a group of sculptors under his direction. Located in the south transept of St. Peter’s Basilica, it was commissioned by Pope Alexander VII himself. This monument was the last major sculptural commission before Bernini’s death in 1680.
The monument includes six main figures. At the top on a pedestal is the Pope Alexander kneeling in prayer, below him are four female statues representing virtues he practiced. Partially standing in front of him and to either side are Charity bearing a child in her arms, and Truth, whose left foot rests on a globe, more precisely, directly over England, where the Pope had tried to stop the growth of Anglicanism. On the second level lying at either side of the pedestal are Prudence and Justice. All these statues were carved in white marble. Below the figure of the Pope and in front of the pedestal is the figure of Death in gilded bronze, covered with a large drapery carved in Sicilian jasper. The Death raises an hourglass to symbolize that time has passed and as an artistic symbol frequently used to signify a “memento mori“, a expression in Latin that means “remember you will die”. The Death hangs over a real door symbolizing the Gate of Death.
Bernini’s most esteemed work is, however, the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa (1647-1652), in the Cornaro Chapel, in the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria (Rome). The decoration of the chapel was designed and completed by Bernini. The chosen theme could not be more topical. Saint Teresa of Jesus had in fact recently been canonized on February 16, 1622, together with the great saints of the Counter-Reformation Ignatius of Loyola, Francisco Javier, and Filippo Neri. The entire chapel is a lavish riot of colored marble and jasper, combined in the most baroque and theatrical manner.
On the two walls, as well as on the balconies, Bernini sculpted the members of the Cornaro family in white marble. They, from behind the balustrades, and the viewer, from the ground, contemplate together the miraculous scene of Ecstasy, as if they were all equally living beings, located in the same space. Thus the border between our real universe and the world of art is ingeniously concealed.
The scene portrayed is the one described by Saint Teresa in the chapter XXIX of her autobiography: an angel appeared to her in corporeal form with a beautiful face and all illuminated. The angel drew an arrow, which seemed to her to have an inflamed tip, with which he pierced her entrails, appearing, as he withdrew from her, to give her life and leaving her “all agitated with great love of God.” The saint said that the pain and pleasure that this dart produced in her was not bodily, but spiritual, “although her body was not completely foreign to her.”
Bernini achieved the most exquisite realism in sculpting the nun’s heavy cloak, the vaporous clouds, the light veil, and the youthful, smooth skin of the adolescent angel. An enigmatic smile models the face of this angel. It is an ambiguous smile, between malicious and beatific, which makes him similar to the disturbing Saint John by Leonardo. The expression on the saint’s face is that of loss of consciousness, her eyes closed, her lips and nostrils open. Her hands and feet express total abandon, in a dramatic attitude. At the same time, the body suspended in the air and the diagonal movement that animates it makes us believe in the impossible. An opening to the outside closed by yellow glass and placed above and further back than the group, bathes the scene in a magical light.
But Bernini still had to give, before he died, another higher note, if possible, of divine love: the recumbent statue of Blessed Ludovica Albertoni (1671-1674) located in the Altieri Chapel in the Church of San Francesco a Ripa (Rome). Except for Saint Teresa, nothing can compare to the emotion of this lying young woman, whose face expresses both pain and pleasure, and seems to shed light from her features. The baroque “pathos” reaches its culminating point in the gesture of her mouth, one of those lively open mouths that, since Daphne, have been Bernini’s marvel. She presses against her chest, dilated by a deep breath, the ruffled fabric of her tunic in order to calm the great pain of her heart. Gian Lorenzo Bernini finished this statue in 1674 and died, 81 years old, six years after the work was completed. Ludovica Albertoni (1473-1533), was a Roman noblewoman who entered the Third Order of St. Francis after the death of her husband. She lived a pious life, working for the poor of the Trastevere neighborhood where the church of San Francesco a Ripa is located. She was buried in this same church. In 1671 Ludovica was beatified and Cardinal Albertoni commissioned the sculpture to Bernini to commemorate the event.
The sculpture of the dying nun is placed above the altar of the chapel where she was buried. As typical of Bernini’s monuments, the scene is theatrical and enhanced by the natural light coming from a hidden window above the left of Ludovica’s head, a device designed by Bernini to get this precise effect. The decorative folded carpet he added below the saint also helps to multiply the dramatism.
The figure of Ludovica Albertoni is depicted lying on a mattress at the moment of her “mystical communion” with God. The folds of her habit reflect her turmoil, her head lies back on an embroidered pillow supported by a headrest. Beneath her figure is a deeply crumpled sculpted cloth above a red-marble sarcophagus, where Ludovica is buried.
However, Gian Lorenzo Bernini had a powerful rival in the sculptures by Alessandro Algardi (1598-1654), especially since, on the death of Urban VIII, Borromini had succeeded Bernini in directing architectural works. We have already explained that Algardi himself, as an architect, studied the project and supervised the construction works of the façade of the famous Villa Doria-Pamphili. During the pontificate of Urban VIII’s successor, Innocent X Pamphili, political power was actually in the hands of his sister-in-law, Mrs. Olimpia Pamphili (1646-1647), of whom Algardi carved an expressive portrait. This powerful and energetic lady had a masculine temperament, and she loved political dominance as well as hunting. In opposition to the Francophile politics of the Barberinis, Mrs. Olimpia was the champion of Spanish politics.
The portrait busts executed by Alessandro Algardi paid minute attention to detail and marvelous tonal control in the handle of the material. The imposing bust of Donna Olimpia is considered as one of the greatest portraits of the Baroque. As opposed to the usually charming busts of ladies made at the time, this bust shows Olimpia as a disagreeable and domineering woman; as the sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X she was indeed a powerful figure in Rome during his pontificate. The billowing veil extending behind Olimpia’s head helps transmit majesty and determination.
Algardi was from Bologna, but his best sculptures are in Rome: the bronze statue of Innocent X (1645-1649), a realistic portrait, today in the Capitoline Museums (Rome); the high-relief marble panel of Pope Leo and Attila (1646-1653), sculpted in 1650, a marble altarpiece that has been rightly described as a “petrified painting” where Algardi’s technique of working the marble smoothly and evenly is in direct contrast to Bernini’s differentiation of texture and surfaces; and the Tomb of Pope Leo XI, in the Basilica of Saint Peter, where he used exclusively white marble, a monochrome ensemble that evidently obeys the same taste that made Borromini prefer white as well.
The Tomb of Pope Leo XI (1634-1644) seems to follow the basic design we saw in the papal tombs designed by Bernini: the pyramidal arrangement of the figures, the figure of the blessing pope above his sarcophagus, and allegories standing next to it and below the figure of the Pope. Algardi set the statue of Leo XI enthroned inside a niche above his sarcophagus, which is flanked by standing allegorical figures representing Magnanimity (at the left) and Liberality (at the right) executed by other sculptors. Above the niche is Leo XI’s coat of arms held by hovering putti, the coat of arms bearing the symbol of the Medici family, a shield with five balls.
Alessandro Algardi’s baroque sculpture, due to its ideal being closer to the classical and academic spirit than that of Bernini, seems to already prefigure the taste of the Neoclassicism.
The Artistic Adventure of Mankind 