Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The baroque's show-stopping qualities were not lost on the Catholic Church.
Threatened by the burgeoning Reformation to the north of the Alps, the Church commis-
sioned a battalion of grandiose churches, palaces and art to dazzle the masses and reaffirm
its authority. Rome soon became a showcase of this baroque exuberance, its impressive
new statements including Giacomo della Porta's Chiesa del Gesù. Commissioned to cel-
ebrate the newly founded Jesuit order, the church's hallucinatory swirl of frescoes and gil-
ded interiors were produced by baroque greats such as Battista Gaulli (aka Il Baciccio),
Andrea Pozzo and Pietro da Cortona.
Even more prolific was Gian Lorenzo Bernini, who expressed the popes' claim to
power with his sweeping new design of St Peter's Square, its colonnaded arms 'embra-
cing' the faithful with a majesty that still moves visitors today. Yet not everyone was
singing Bernini's praise, especially the artist's bitter rival, Francesco Borromini
(1599-1667). Neurotic, reclusive and tortured, Borromini looked down on his ebullient
contemporary's lack of architectural training and formal stone-carving technique. No love
was lost: Bernini believed Borromini 'had been sent to destroy architecture'. Centuries on,
the rivalry lives on in the works they left behind, from Borromini's Chiesa di San Carlo
alle Quattro Fontane and Bernini's neighbouring Chiesa di Sant'Andrea al Quirinale to
their back-to-back creations in Piazza Navona.
Glowing in the wealth of its Spanish rulers, 16th-century Naples also drew driven, tal-
ented architects and artists in search of commissions and fame. For many of Naples'
baroque architects, however, the saying 'it's what's inside that counts' had a particularly
strong resonance. Due in part to the city's notorious high density and lack of show-off
piazzas, many invested less time on adorning hard-to-see facades and more on lavish in-
teriors. The exterior of churches like the Chiesa e Chiostro di San Gregorio Armeno gives
little indication of the opulence inside, from cheeky cherubs and gilded ceilings to poly-
chromatic marble walls and floors. The meister of this marble work form was Cosimo
Fanzago, whose masterpiece is the church inside the Museo Nazionale di San Martino in
Naples - a mesmerising kaleidoscope of inlaid colours and patterns.
Considering the Neapolitans' weakness for all things baroque, it's not surprising that
the Italian baroque's grand finale would come in the form of the Palazzo Reale in Caserta,
a 1200-room royal palace designed by Neapolitan architect Luigi Vanvitelli to upstage
France's Versailles.
