A Walk through the Baroque Churches of Rome

By Liam Beecher

In terms of art and architecture, the Baroque reigns supreme in the Eternal City. Although this style is relatively recent, only dating back to the late 16th century, it exercised a striking influence on the city where it originated. Anyone who has been to Rome can testify to how utterly packed with churches the city is. Of these many churches, the vast majority are in the Baroque style. Even of those which predate the style, many have been given thorough Baroque updates.

The Baroque style had such a decisive impact because it was not an isolated movement in art, but rather the artistic outpouring of the Counter-Reformation. The authoritative Catholic response to Protestantism achieved its highest expression in the acts of the Council of Trent, and the reception of the council’s decrees by the Church at large would bring about crucial movements in discipline and culture. The Baroque was an artistic development born and bred in the atmosphere of Trent. It was conceived in the very heart of the Church, Rome itself, the focal point of all Counter-Reformation efforts.

Obviously, a thorough tour of even the most famous Baroque churches of Rome would be utterly impossible in an article of this length. What I propose to give is a brief overview of the Baroque sensibility and its genesis in the Catholic response to Protestantism, and an introduction to a few of the great Baroque churches of Rome. The churches I have selected are not necessarily the most frequented or the largest, but they are ones in which the Counter-Reformation influence is palpable in their design and decoration. They are powerful examples of the character of the Baroque style and the distinctive spirituality of the Roman Counter-Reformation.

Catholicism and Protestantism: Opposing Visions of Reality

The difference between incipient Protestantism and Catholicism runs far deeper than any of the specific points of dogma and discipline which swirled around the Reformation period. They are predicated on two radically different approaches to religion—one marked by unity, the other by division. What the Protestant reformers repudiated was the concept of Christian revelation as a tradition. By setting themselves at liberty to examine and adjudicate the legitimacy of Catholic doctrines, they showed a clear misunderstanding of the nature of the Deposit of Faith. The very idea of Christian truth was impoverished, reduced to a set of doctrines extracted from the Scriptures instead of a living body of revelation infallibly preserved and proclaimed by the Church. The fabric of divine faith was artificially rent and patched up according to a human design.

Such a hubristic deconstruction of Christianity brings with it revised sensibilities. Among many, especially Calvinists, it manifested in a severe austerity which effectively downplayed the intrinsic goodness of God’s creation and its restoration by Christ. As could have been expected, iconoclasm soon reared its head. All of this was the consequence of a self-constructed system of belief which failed to heed the peril of man crafting his own religion. Doctrines out of balance, spiritual realities isolated and not understood in harmonious unity, inevitably wreak havoc. The Protestant reformation imperiled not just men’s souls but even their sense of beauty, their ability to appreciate sensible goods.

Far from fawning and cringing in the face of error, the Council of Trent emphatically reaffirmed the integrity of Catholic faith and life. While condemning excesses and curtailing abuses which crept into the medieval and Renaissance church, the council had a hearty appreciation for the achievements of Christendom in all arenas of life. The council’s decree on art is an emphatic, albeit succinct, reaffirmation of the Catholic support for the arts, as well as an inspiration for the artistic movements which would develop and incarnate its teachings.

Genesis and Characteristics of the Baroque

The short Tridentine decree on art has both negative and positive aspects. The council admonishes: “If any abuses have crept in amongst these holy and salutary observances, the holy Synod ardently desires that they be utterly abolished; in such wise that no images, suggestive of false doctrine, and furnishing occasion of dangerous error to the uneducated, be set up.” All perversions of art, whether of the superstitious, idolatrous, or lascivious variety, are cautioned against. However, the council also makes recommendations for how art is to be used to great spiritual benefit. It declares that by sacred art, “the people are instructed” but also “may be excited to adore and love God.” Religious art teaches by appealing both to the mind and the senses.

Baroque art, cradled in the heart of Christendom, arose from a robust awareness of art’s role in lifting the soul and glorifying God, consciously guided by Tridentine principles. It is supremely Roman and supremely incarnational. The style is pervaded with a sense of what one of my professors called “sacred drama”—highlighting the gravitas of the Christian mysteries as the events of the divine narrative of salvation. No amount of spectacle and adornment is too much for the representation of the Sacred Mysteries, the Baroque sensibility declared. Combining pedagogic and ecstatic intent, it served as an aesthetic corrective to the inescapable mundaneness of Protestant culture.

Consequently, the style was marked by an intensity of detail and embellishment. Exquisitely gilded motifs combine in patterns of astounding intricacy and majesty. Contrast of light and dark colors is used to great dramatic effect. Rich materials, especially different varieties of marble, were employed often. Buildings and pieces of art are furnished with what seems an almost unearthly level of decoration, while still maintaining a stately coherence.

In Rome’s Centro Storico (Historic Center) are a number of prominently placed churches not only built during the Counter-Reformation, but by orders instrumental in the Catholic revival of this period. St. Anthony Maria Zaccaria’s Barnabites, St. Cajetan’s Theatines, St. Phillip Neri’s Oratorians, and of course St. Ignatius’ Jesuits all constructed impressive Baroque edifices to serve as the heart of their activities. I would like to introduce the reader to three of these fine Churches. These are helpful examples because they are entirely the work of the Counter-Reformation and the Baroque Period. This means that, unlike many other churches in Rome, they are not palimpsests, blends of various periods of art and architecture layered upon one another. They are thoroughly and integrally Baroque. These three in particular, beyond being artistic marvels in their own right, together exemplify these salient traits of the Counter-Reformation style: exuberance, drama, and daring.

 

Chiesa del Santissimo Nome del Gesù (Church of the Most Holy Name of Jesus)

There is no better place to start than with the mother Church of the Society of Jesus, often abbreviated to the “Chiesa del Gesù” or simply “Il Gesù.” Although the Jesuit order in its present state is a far cry from its past greatness, the Society at its height evokes images of all the vigor and glory of the Counter-Reformation. In fact, the Gesù, started in 1568 (just 5 years after the Council of Trent), is one of the very earliest works of Roman Baroque architecture, and a great inspiration, both in style and artistic content, to subsequent churches in the style.

Unlike the older basilica style of construction, with side aisles outside of the main nave, the Gesù has a very broad nave with recessed side chapels constructed into its sides. This design immediately draws attention to the altar and the Holy Sacrifice—a conscious concern in this age of Protestant attacks on the Eucharist. The beautiful side chapels are a palpable way to cultivate the piety of the faithful by encouraging them in authentic devotions. The sanctuary, simpler in design than some later baroque churches, relies heavily on golden marble to achieve its regal effect.

And if the Jesuit’s mother church needed any more proof of its staunch Counter-Reformation character, it can be found in the tomb of St. Ignatius, on the left side of the nave. The shrine above the saint’s tomb, constructed largely of dark marble accented with gold, is flanked by two sculptures: the Triumph of Faith over Idolatry, and the Triumph of Religion over Heresy and Hatred. The Triumph of Religion over Heresy features Holy Mother Church casting down the figures of Heresy and Hatred, while an angel tears pages out of a book by Zwingli. Volumes by Luther and Calvin await the same fate. Elsewhere in the church, a statue of St. Ignatius holds Martin Luther pinned to the ground with his foot. The combative attitude of the Counter-Reformation is clearly on display throughout the Gesù.

Finally, the frescoed vault of the church is one of the most unique and exuberant painted ceilings in Rome. The main scene is the Triumph of the Name of Jesus. What makes the vault so distinctive is the bursting effect, the figures tumbling out of frame with characteristically Baroque exuberance. It is as though the art and the marvels it depicts cannot be contained by the frame. The supernatural intrudes into the mundane through art.

Chiesa di Sant’Ignazio di Loyola (Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola)

The Jesuits, being the most formidable of the Counter-Reformation orders, has not one but two monumental churches in the Centro Storico. The Gesù was completed in 1580, 24 years after its founder’s death. After St. Ignatius was canonized in 1622, the Society, at the recommendation of Pope Gregory XV, promptly began work on a church in his honor, adjacent to their Collegio Romano. In other words, this massive artistic marvel is essentially a college chapel.

San Ignazio features some of the most breathtaking examples of the classic Baroque technique of trompe l’oeil (“trick the eye”). Its main ceiling, depicting the Triumph of Saint Ignatius, is an utterly astonishing feat of illusion. The painter, lay Jesuit brother Andrea Pozzo, managed to turn a flat ceiling into a window into heaven. Columns upon columns, intricate arches, and finally the open vault of heaven—all blend perfectly with the architecture of the Church and make it nearly impossible to tell where the structure ends and the painting begins.

This ceiling is a magnificent example of the spirit the Counter-Reformation breathed into Roman art and architecture. To stretch human artistic ability to its utmost in the search for beauty, to produce the most awe-inspiring artistic feats for the glory of God—this is thoroughly in line with the Baroque mentality. Unsurprisingly, Saint Ignatius’ motto “Ad Majorem Dei gloriam,” perfectly suits the church built in his honor. The Catholic heart, mindful of the source of all good things, resisted the idea that art, even the most impressive, was intrinsically vain or self-serving.

There are many other features worth noting in Sant’Ignazio, from the elegant façade to the ornate tomb of its patron, Pope Gregory XV. One playful idiosyncrasy that cannot go unmentioned is the church’s “dome.” Not able to afford the construction of a dome, the Jesuits had Andre Pozzo paint one on. The paint of his trompe l’oeil cupola has darkened over time and it is somewhat less convincing today, but it is still an amusing and audacious feature. Seen at the right angle, the illusion succeeds quite well.

Basilica di Sant’Andrea della Valle (Basilica of St. Andrew of the Valley)

The Theatine church in the Centro Storico embodies the tight fusion of didactic and dramatic elements typical of post-Tridentine Catholic conventions. The sanctuary and the ceiling are covered in panels depicting sacred scenes. Behind the altar is a sequence of events culminating in the martyrdom of Saint Andrew, while the vault features scenes celebrating Our Lady’s Immaculate Conception.

The church is in some ways reminiscent of a smaller Saint Peter’s, with a similar floor plan and various motifs, like the inscription lining the top of the walls, evocative of the great basilica. Sant’Andrea della Valle is a gorgeous specimen of what Bernini, perhaps the greatest Baroque artist, called “Bel Composto”—architecture, painting, and sculpture combining in a harmonious union. For all of the intensity of its design and decoration, the church is delightfully cohesive. It certainly fulfills the directive of the Council of Trent to lift the heart to God through beauty, while explicitly reminding Christians of the real lives of Christ, Our Lady, and the Saints.

Conclusion

These churches, and many like them in Rome, are enduring testaments to the resilience and vitality of Catholic culture. The Counter-Reformation response to Protestantism extended to far more than the realm of polemics and theological writing. It prompted the impassioned outpouring of human creativity in the service of God. The Baroque style, in all its splendor, is a reminder of the catholicity of the Faith—the Catholic propensity to see the majesty of God in all his works. It is an endeavor to reflect the divine glory, to offering back to God the artistic powers with which he endowed man.