The Myth of the "Baroque"

There seems to be a sudden rash of TV, radio, and newspaper coverage of "the Baroque": much of it very interesting, and illustrated with pretty pictures, but also a real and obvious lack of historical thinking.

The key culprit (that I have come across) is Waldemar Januszczak, in his BBC4 mini-series, entitled "From St Peter's to St Paul's". The idea is to trace "the baroque" from Rome to London, over a period of about 150 years, via Italy, Spain, the Low Countries, and thence to England. An interesting project...

He starts by defining the movement (and he includes art, architecture, and music in this) as a key part of the Counter Reformation, lashing back against the Protestant revolt in the north, and its pared down aesthetic. Which is superficially, attractive, except for a few points.

The Council of Trent (which he made great play of), was certainly not thinking of baroque music as its ideal - Palestrina was much more to their taste. (See the amazing opera by Pfitzner for details!) Opera (the "quintesstial music of the baroque", apparently) started in renaissance Italy, and was by no means a baroque invention. The new aesthetic of the Italian (perhaps southern European) baroque was in no way a creature of the Catholic Reformation, at least to start with.

He then moves to Spain, where he characterises the Baroque as a new passionate religious artform (cue lots of monks and gruesome martyrdoms). But to suggest that 16th century Spain was not a place of religious passion is staggeringly ignorant: The music of "El Siglo d'Oro" is testament to that. Similarly, although they didn't merit a mention, the spirituality of Teresa d'Avila and St John of the Cross are perfect examples of pre-Baroque (on his definition at least) Spanish devotion.

With a bit more wiggling, the Baroque becomes, for Waldemar, a way of protraying doubt and ambiguity. And, from the examples he gave, I can see what he means. But it doesn't fit in with the previous ideas of it being a movement defined by a Catholic resurgence against Protestantism, nor, unless with considerable stretching, does it coincide with the idea of religious passion and committment.

He then moves on to the Low Countries: Rembrandt, Van Eyck, and friends. Here, of course, there is the slight problem that he is moving to cultures where there is no triumphant restatement of Catholic verities - which, presumably, is why we hear no more about religion. Instead, the Baroque has become a manifestation of civic pride, of peace rather than war - which hardly fits with his theories of the religious Spanish baroque.

The final programme hasn't arrived yet, but it promises Germany and England. Quite how he will mash it together I have no idea, but I am sure that he will, somehow, make Bach a cheerleader for frippery and Wren the ultimate religious enthusiast...

But perhaps this is being unfair, when we think exactly what "the Baroque" means.

I know what I mean when I say that a church or other building is Baroque: it generally involves twiddly bits, and decorating anything that doesn't move (and even some priests who do). Similarly, baroque music seems to me characterised by ornamentation - as well as some rather fun new harmonies and rhythmic styles. It also sees the use of new musical technologies - organs, better stringed instruments, more civilised brass and woodwind. Baroque painting seems to me an altogether harder genre to define. Perhaps Waldy has a point when he says that it is more about individuals than symbolic representations, but on the other hand, it's very easy to reel off a list of counterexamples to that.

The real problem, however, comes when you look at this across European culture. Bach and Vivaldi are both undeniably baroque. But they are trying to do very different things for different reasons - mainly to do with their religious circumstances. They may use similar musical techniques to acheive those aims, but a similarity of method should not blind us to a difference of intent.

Ditto Bernini and whoever-designed-German-baroque-churches (I'll leave out Wren for the moment because of the peculiarities of England in the 1660s), although here the techniques even have profound differences. They were striving for a different aesthetic meaning, even if some of the twiddly bits are superficially similar. Even more, the uses to which their products were put are so radically different that any real comparison just falls down.

Having read a reasonable amount about what the Renaissance might be, I'm well aware of how difficult it can be to define a period with any degree of precision, but surely it's time to throw away "Baroque" to mean anything other than twiddling. Let's find some better words for a few manageable distinctive phenomena. That way future BBC programmes might not suggest that Bach was taking a lead from the Council of Trent, that Spain was devoid of religious intensity before 1600, and (especially) that just because two things happen at the same time and look slightly similar, then they have common intent.