MODERN SACRED ART
It can be said that, beginning with the 18th-century Enlightenment movement, sacred art no longer achieved that expression and triumph which had constituted the greatest glory of the figurative arts, not only of the Middle Ages but also of the Renaissance and Baroque periods. And this is understandable: subtle rationalism could not foster the impulse of faith, which was increasingly opposed during the 19th century and our own by new philosophical and political currents—materialism, socialism, positivism, modernism, communism (to limit ourselves to the principal ones)—to which, in recent decades, have been added the horrors of two world wars with their attendant grave hardships.
Yet it would be unjust to deny that, both in the 19th century and today, a problem of sacred art has been felt, even if it no longer dominates the minds of artists, and that alongside mediocre or unfortunate solutions, there have been notable and even admirable ones.
Certainly, architecture did not succeed in asserting itself in the 19th century; indeed, it was the least successful of all the arts, oscillating between constant imitations, now of classical models, now of Romanesque, Gothic, or Renaissance styles. In Italy during the Neoclassical period, Giuseppe Valadier (1762–1839) stands out among others as the designer of Rome’s splendid Piazza del Popolo and, for example, the measured façade of S. Pantaleo in the same city and the imposing interior of the Urbino cathedral. In Rome, the most significant classical-style construction is undoubtedly the restoration, by Luigi Poletti (1792–1869), of the Basilica of S. Paolo fuori le mura after the fire of 1823; yet while the interior of this basilica is notable for its luminous yet severe grandeur, the exterior and the bell tower betray the worst kind of academicism.
In Naples, which had been ruled by Giuseppe Bonaparte and Gioacchino Murat, the church of S. Francesco di Paola was built, on the model of the Pantheon, by Pietro Bianchi (1787–1849) at the order of Ferdinand I, flanked by a Doric portico with an elliptical plan that had already been begun under Murat according to a design by Leopoldo Laperuta.
In Milan, capital of the Cisalpine Republic and the Kingdom of Italy, Neoclassicism triumphed and continued even after Napoleon’s fall and death. Among the most significant works of this period is S. Carlo, erected between 1836 and 1847 by Carlo Amati (1776–1852), a pupil of Albertolli and Zanoia. In the Veneto, where Classicism remained ever alive through the Palladian tradition, a church perfectly Neoclassical in the model of the Pantheon was built as early as the first half of the 18th century: S. Simeone Piccolo in Venice (1718), by Giovanni Scalfarotto. The scheme of a pronaos with Ionic or Corinthian columns surmounted by a triangular pediment would enjoy ever greater success, not only in the Veneto but throughout Italy and abroad; suffice it to recall, limiting ourselves to the Veneto, the façade of the cathedral of Cologna Veneta by Giannantonio Selva (1751–1819), that of the cathedral of Schio by Antonio Diedo (1772–1847), and that of the cathedral of Treviso, designed in 1836. To Selva also belong the otherwise simple façades of two small Venetian churches, S. Maurizio and S. Maria del Nome di Gesù. At Possagno, the celebrated temple designed by Canova himself and completed after his death in 1830, combines in its pronaos an imitation of the Parthenon with in its circular body an imitation of the Pantheon. In Trieste, one of Italy’s most notable centers of Neoclassical architecture, the fine church of S. Antonio Nuovo (1826–49), built by Pietro Nobile (1774–1854) on the model of the Pantheon, deserves mention.
For this period, Turin can boast above all the church of the Gran Madre di Dio (1818–41), well-proportioned and well-integrated into the landscape, the work of Ferdinando Bonsignore (1767–1843). In Genoa, the elegant pronaos erected by Carlo Barabino (1767–1835) for the façade of S. Anna Annunziata is worthy of note. In Tuscany, civil buildings predominated; yet one may recall the parish church of Montecatini Terme (1833) and that of SS. Pietro e Paolo in Livorno, both by Luigi de Cambray-Digny (1779–1843).
With the decline of the Napoleonic age, the wind of Romanticism swept across our peninsula, bringing with it an ever more passionate study of national history, especially of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, and this was all the more encouraged by new aspirations for freedom and independence. Naturally, this had a lively reflection in art, determining new directions; but unfortunately, this movement was not felt in architecture. Instead, forms from a national past were adopted more out of study and application than from an urgent need of taste, for fantastical re-elaboration; thus, to a classical imitation of the Napoleonic Empire period and immediately thereafter, there succeeded another with far less happy results, as the new imitations quickly degenerated into facile eclecticism and a jumble of hybrid forms.
In Rome, which had become the capital of Italy, there was in the last decades of the century a great building activity even in the field of sacred architecture, and it can perhaps be said that here, more than in other Italian cities, that imitation of past forms and that eclecticism were fully displayed, clearly indicating creative poverty, bad taste, and academicism. Generally, Romanesque and Gothic styles were chosen for churches, Renaissance and Baroque for private palaces, more rarely for sacred buildings. One of the first examples is the church of the Sacro Cuore in Via Marsala (1879–87), of Renaissance type, the work of Francesco Vespignani (1842–99). To Luca Carimini (1830–99) belong S. Antonio on Via Merulana (1886), with a Paleochristian plan, and the Renaissance façade of S. Chiara. Paleochristian and Renaissance is S. Gioacchino (1890–98) by Raffaele Inganni; Romanesque is S. Anselmo (1900), built by Francesco Vespignani to designs by Fr. Ildebrando de Hemptine; completely Gothic are the church of the Sacro Cuore in Via Piave, by Aristide Leonori, and the other likewise dedicated to the Sacro Cuore on Lungotevere Prati, by Giuseppe Gualandi (1870–1942); Romanesque are the two churches of S. Teresa al Corso d’Italia and of S. Camillo, by Tullio Passarelli (1869–1941), and that of S. Giuseppe on Via Nomentana (1905–06), the work of Carlo Busiri Vici (1856–1925); a compromise between Paleochristian and Romanesque is the church of S. Croce in Via Guido Reni (1913), by Leonori.
Outside Rome, one may recall the façades in Florence of Santa Croce and Santa Maria del Fiore: the former (1857–63), in Renaissance style with three Gothic cusps crowning it, by Niccolò Matas (c. 1808–1872); the latter, imitating the forms and polychromy of the sides of the same church, with Romanesque-Gothic elements, by Emilio De Fabris (1808–83) and completed in 1887 by his assistant Luigi Del Moro. Also in Florence is the bell tower of Santa Croce (1805), in the manner of the fourteenth century, by Gaetano Baccani (1782–1867). In Milan, the two Gothic façades of San Marco (1871) and Santa Maria del Carmine (c. 1879), by Carlo Maciacchini (1818–90). In the Veneto, the cathedral of Lonigo (1877–95), by Giacomo Franco (1818–1895), derived from Romanesque models. In Turin, the Gothic Sacred Heart of Jesus (1873–76) and the Romanesque San Giovanni Evangelista (1878–82) were built by Edoardo Arborio Mella (1806–84), while the Renaissance church of Saints Peter and Paul (1863–65) is by Carlo Velasco. Perhaps the most significant eclectic architect in Turin is Carlo Ceppi (1829–1921), whose San Gioacchino (1876–82), in Paleo-Christian style, and the Sacred Heart of Mary (1890) are of particular interest. Yet a masterpiece is found in Novara with the dome of San Gaudenzio, supremely slender and soaring, by Alessandro Antonelli (1798–1888)—a work even more organic than his celebrated Mole Antonelliana in Turin. In Genoa, the church of the Immaculate Conception (1856–73), in Ligurian and Lombard Renaissance forms, with a Greek-cross plan and rich façade, is by Domenico Cervetto, Maurizio Dufour (1837–97) and Gioacchino Zandomeneghi (1837–1902); while in Savona the façade of the cathedral (1886), imitating late Renaissance style, is by Guglielmo Calderini (1837–1916). Romanesque and Gothic elements reappear together in the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Bologna (1901–12), by Edoardo Collamarini (1863–1928). Finally, for Campania, one may recall the restorations of the façade of the cathedral of Naples (1877–1905), in Gothic guise, by Enrico Alvino (1810–76) and Giuseppe Pisanti (1826–1913), and the cathedral of Amalfi (1891), in two-hundreds Arab-Norman style, by the same Alvino, L. Della Corte and Guglielmo Raimondi.
Already in the second half of the nineteenth century there arose a reaction against this confused eclecticism, which was nothing more than a sign of creative sterility. Yet the first attempts at renewal, which took place abroad, should not be sought in the use of new materials—first iron, then reinforced concrete and glass—nor in the tenets of functionalism and rationalism, for an architectural work must above all be a work of art, and the values of a work of art do not reside in particular techniques or theories. The earliest stirrings of renewal are to be found rather in the writings, more than in the buildings, of certain foreign architects, especially the Frenchman Viollet-le-Duc (1814–79). The first works of the new architecture, however, appeared in Holland, Sweden, Germany and Austria with architects such as H. P. Berlage (1856–1935), G. F. Boberg (b. 1860), P. Behrens (1868–1938) and O. Wagner (1841–1918), who suppressed ornament, simplified forms, emphasized structural elements and materials, while reworking national traditions—until the Belgian Van de Velde (b. 1863) and the American Wright (b. 1869) launched the architecture of today, which would flourish especially in Holland, Germany, Austria and France, based not so much on principles of functionality and rationalism nor on any single tradition, but rather on concealing structural elements behind broad, luminous planes cut at right angles and expressing a common, international character.
In Italy, this broad movement resonated later and in relation to tradition. After Antonio Sant’Elia (1888–1916) published his manifesto in 1914—an idealist and theorist who understood that architecture is not a dry combination of practicality and utility but remains an art, a synthesis and an expression, and must represent the effort to harmonize, with freedom and boldness, the environment with humanity—progress continued up to the years before and after the Second World War. Yet Italy did not produce forms as strongly individual as those abroad, though in the main cities and in the new centres of the Roman Agro there are works worthy of admiration, especially in civil architecture. Modern and beautiful churches are fewer in number. Among others, one may recall San Antonio in Cremona (1936) by Giovanni Muzio (b. 1893); San Michele Arcangelo in Aprilia (1936–38) by Concezio Petrucci (1902–46) and Mario Tufaroli; San Marco in Latina (1932) by Oriolo Frezzotti; and above all Christ the King in Rome (1927–34) by Marcello Piacentini (b. 1881), notable especially for its façade of three great arches flanked by two square towers, while the exterior of the apse and dome is poor in aspect and lacks logical development.
In Italian churches, as one would expect, traditional elements appear readily, above all the arch; yet in the best examples the taste for simplification, for large surfaces, for bold sweep and precise articulation in the arch itself leads to a completely new artistic expression (cf., for instance, the façades of the churches in Aprilia, Latina and Cremona). In the latter, Muzio ingeniously reduced the arch to a lunette crowning element in order to give bold emphasis to the great pilaster strips, which lend the whole a grand and severe aspect.
Also in the other genres of art one can naturally follow the evolution of taste and forms, from Neoclassicism to the present day. In sculpture the leading representative of the Neoclassical age was—well known to all—Antonio Canova (v.), a genuine artist, even if not infrequently not without mannerism. Aimed at the most rigid abstraction from any pulse of life for the triumph of the purest formalism was the Nordic Albert Thorvaldsen (1770–1844), as can be seen in his monument to Pius VII in the Vatican Basilica (1831). From the models of Canova and Thorvaldsen, who exercised a wide influence in Rome, there soon derived works of a more or less monotonous academism. It suffices to recall a few: statues of SS. Peter and Paul on either side of the staircase of St. Peter’s, by Giuseppe de Fabris (1710–1860) and Adamo Tadolini (1789–1868); statue of St. Stephen, by Rinaldo Rinaldi (1793–1873) in the Basilica of Ostia; statue of St. Francis Caracciolo, by Alessandro Laboureur (1796–1861) in St. Peter’s; monument to Pius VIII, by Pietro Tenerani (1789–1869), and to Gregory XVI, by Luigi Amici (1813–97) in the same basilica; group of the Kiss of Judas, by Ignazio Jacometti (1819–83) on the Scala Santa; statue of the Immaculate Conception, by Giuseppe Obici (d. before 1865) on the column in Piazza di Spagna.
In Milan, another important center of this period, the sculptures observed are not very different in character and value from those of Rome or other cities. The most celebrated sculptor is Pompeo Marchesi (1789–1858), to whom we owe, among other works, a Pietà and the Communion of St. Aloysius Gonzaga in the Neoclassical church of St. Mark, and various statues on the façade of the Duomo. In Genoa there is St. Agnes in Glory, by Nicola Traverso (1745–1823) in S. Maria del Carmine; in Florence, Penitence and Faith, by Innocenzo Spinazzi (d. 1798).
To these forms, tired repetitions of classical models, BARTOLI, DANIELLO (v.) reacted by abandoning the study of the antique in order to uphold that of nature and of the Florentine fifteenth century; yet in practice, especially in the last years of his life, he did not stray far from a Canovian taste for form, caressing his images with the most attentive care. His example was followed by another Tuscan, Duprè (v.), in whom the study of the real is tempered by a sense of Renaissance composure. A freer form of realism is found in the work of a Lombard, Vincenzo Vela (1820–91), who also set out from Bartolini’s teachings. Of him one may recall the *Addolorata* in the Dadda Chapel at Arcole.
But it must be noted at once that works of sacred subject by those sculptors who represent the liveliest currents of the 19th century become ever rarer. In Lombardy, where Romantic sculpture in contact with Cremona and Ranzoni and French Impressionism assumed an ever more marked pictorialism up to Medardo Rosso and a Trubetzky, after Giuseppe Grandi (1843–94), pupil of Vela and in turn a leading master, other artists emerged, among them Enrico Butti (1847–1932), who in 1894 modeled a very expressive Crucifix for the tomb of the sculptor Vincenzo Tantardini in the Monumental Cemetery of Milan. Of Rosso (1858–1928), one of our greatest 19th-century sculptors, only an *Ecce Puer* (1906) in the National Gallery of Modern Art in Rome can be cited.
In Turin Carlo Marocchetti (1805–1887) had known how to react against academism; to him belong two Adoring Angels in the church of the Madeleine in Paris. From the second half of the century to the beginning of our own are counted especially the works of David Calandra (1856–1915) and Leonardo Bistolfi (1859–1933). Both Romantic, at least in their youth, the former was a passionate lover of nature and a perfect master of technique (cf. *Resurrection of the Widow’s Son of Nain* [1914] for the Molli tomb in the cemetery of Borgomanero); the latter succeeded, through subtle pictorialism, in expressing a poetry almost mystical (cf. *The Funeral of the Virgin*).
In Genoa one must recall above all Giulio Monteverde (1837–1917), who, like so many of his contemporaries at the end of the century, was torn between realism and academism; his *Madonna and Child* (1889) for the Balduino tomb in the Stagliano Cemetery in Genoa bears the imprint of these traits. In Florence a strong personality, a bitter enemy of all academism, asserts itself: Adriano Cecioni (1836–86), theorist of the Macchiaioli; yet in his sculptures one searches in vain for any interest in the sacred world. Later the Palermitan Domenico Trentacoste (1859–1933) settled in this city; in his *Dead Christ* executed for the De Asarta tomb at Fraforeano (Udine) he shows not only a sure interpretation of nature but a profound feeling that ennobles form.
In Rome, capital of Italy, artists of various tendencies displayed intense activity. A fervent spirit is revealed in Ernesto Biondi (1855–1917) in a *St. Francis in Ecstasy* (1898–1900), now in a private collection—a work that may be considered his masterpiece and that, through lively pictorialism, shows a deep interest in nature. Conversely, Enrico Quattrini (1863–1950) is a sensitive modeler and sincere and refined interpreter of the sacred theme in an *Annunciate* (c. 1903) in Rome, belonging to his son Carlo, who continues his father’s art; while Eugenio Maccagnani (1852–1930) impresses strong plasticity in sure perspective and a calm and solemn character in a bas-relief with the *Transport of the Body of St. Cyril* (1908), now in the collection of Leccisi of Rome. The eclectic Ettore Ximenes of Palermo (1855–1926; Rome, collection of Ugo Ximenes), of recherché but noble forms. The liveliest naturalism is found in Naples with Filippo Cifariello (1864–1936), a most able and powerful modeler, of whom remains the monumental bronze group of the Dead Christ and the Magdalene (1895) in the Gallery of the Academy of Fine Arts in Ravenna, one of the major works of the time for plastic robustness and dramatic effect. Vincenzo Gemito (1852–1929) was another brilliant interpreter of life.
In our own century new generations have not been lacking who have continued in the tradition of the 19th century. It would suffice to recall in Rome Amleto Cataldi (1882–1930), with the marble group of *Madonna and Child* (1921) in the possession of his widow in Rome. And still active is Duilio Cambellotti (b.
1876; *Buon Pastore*, from 1946, with interesting stylizations), Aurelio Mistruzzi (b. 1880; *Regina Pacis* from 1948), Alfredo Biagini (b. 1896; winning model for one of the doors of St Peter’s Basilica, 1949). Others, and they are the majority, have sought renewal by emphasizing form, simplifying it, and focusing on character and mood. Among these, one of the personalities who most impresses us and who still awaits proper appraisal is Ermenegildo Luppi (1877–1937), who knew how to create works of the highest order (cf. *Pietà*, a grand marble group formerly in the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna in Rome; a small bronze with the busts of the Virgin and Christ proportionate to Barluzzi in Rome). Others, though not reaching the intense poetic level attained by Luppi, have produced fine works: Giovanni Prini (b. 1877), for example, with the *Baptism of Christ* (1951) in S. Eugenio in Rome, or Antonio Maraini (b. 1886), with the *Porta di S. Paolo fuori le mura* (1891), or Attilio Selva (b. 1888) with the bronze group of the *Regina Pacis* (1948).
Of a younger generation, and thus more modern in their process of simplifying form, are Francesco Nagni (b. 1897), author of a *Dormitio Virginis* (1939, in a private collection), remarkable for its sense of measure and feeling; Alessandro Monteleone (b. 1897) with a severe *Deposizione nel Sepolcro* (1948); Venanzio Crocetti (b. 1913), winner of the competition for one of the doors of St Peter’s (1949); Pericle Fazzini (b. 1913), to whom we owe the group of *S. Francesca Saverio Cabrini crowned by an angel* (1951) in S. Eugenio in Rome.
In Florence, the artist who most renews tradition, though drawing on examples from the 15th century and the Romanesque period, is Libero Andreotti (1875–1933): see the *Pietà* (1926) in S. Croce in Florence, the other fine *Pietà* (1928–29), notable for its severe stylization, in a private collection at Grignano near Trieste, or the *Risen and Blessed Christ* (1928) for the Monumento della Vittoria in Bolzano. The same path is followed by Giuseppe Graziosi (1879–1942), as shown by the *Crucifix* (1942) for the church of SS. Pietro e Paolo in Rome. Romano Romanelli (b. 1882), on the other hand, inclines toward a grand, austere form, as in the *Pietà* (1924) in the Casa Madre dei Mutilati in Rome; whereas Antonio Berti (b. 1904) delights in the most refined elegance, as in the bronze statue of *S. Caterina da Siena* (1938).
Where renewal has been most decisive in asserting new and authentic artistic values, there is no doubt that it has occurred in Milan, the city in which there arose in 1922 the movement that took the name of ‘Novecento’. Already Adolfo Wildt (1868–1931) had made his mark with a new but highly personal vision, expressing the most passionate and tragic aspects of the human soul through broad, stylized, subtle, polished and luminous forms, evoking images of a *S. Francesco* (Rome, Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna) and a *S. Lucia* (Forlì, Museo Civico). In contrast, Arturo Martini (1885–1947), using precise forms animated by vibrant painterliness, gives his images a dreamy, legendary tone of high lyrical value (with certain exceptions): thus in the group of *Il Figliuol prodigo* (1927) in the Ospizio Ottolenghi in Acqui.
Different again is Francesco Messina (b. 1900), whose small bronze statuette of *S. Sebastiano* displays a fundamentally classical character with its precise yet animated plasticity. Of a livelier spirit, a continuer of distinctly Lombard pictorial taste without sacrificing form as Medardo Rosso had done, is the Bergamasque Giacomo Manzù (b. 1908), also a winner of the competition for one of the doors of St Peter’s in the Vatican (1949); yet this model, though notable for its taste in line and flattened schematic form, does not reveal the artist’s best qualities, as, for example, certain stations of the *Via Crucis* in bronze in S. Eugenio in Rome (1951), remarkable for their dramatic power.
Neoclassical painting in Rome may be said to have had a master in the Frenchman J.-L. DAVIDE (v.), who painted in Rome in 1784 the celebrated *Oath of the Horatii*, now in the Louvre in Paris and regarded as the first official painting of the new age.
They have been called "il Piccio" (q.v.), author of an *Agar in the Desert* in the Farina collection in Milan; Luigi Galli (1820–1900), active in Rome but essentially Lombard in spirit, mindful of the painting of il Piccio, to whom we owe the fine *Holy Family* in the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna in Rome; Mosè Bianchi (1840–1904), with *The Baptism of Christ* in the Museo Civico in Lugano and *The Word of God* in the aforementioned Roman gallery. At the same time, Divisionism established itself in Lombardy as in France, and, despite much of today’s criticism, it must be acknowledged that its finest exponents often created masterpieces marked by sincerity of inspiration, refined sensitivity in handling form, light, and color, and purity of line. Sacred themes or religious sentiment found suggestive interpretations from these masters. Consider, for instance, without prejudice, *Ave Maria at the Ferry* (1887) by Giovanni Segantini (1858–99), in a private collection in Cologne, so intensely lyrical, or *The Angel of Life* (1894) by the same artist, in the Galleria d’Arte Moderna in Milan; *The Procession* (1892–95) by Pellizza da Volpedo (1868–1907), permeated with pure, delicate religious poetry, now in the Rossi collection in Milan; and among Gaetano Previati’s (1852–1920) many works, *The Annunciation*, *The House of the Virgin* (Lugano, Thomy collection), or—powerfully expressive—*The Marys at the Foot of the Cross* (Rome, Galleria d’Arte Moderna) and the *Via Crucis* series (Milan, Benni collection).
In Genoa, the artist worth recalling is Niccolò Barabino (q.v.), whose naturalism is certainly academic, yet he gave us a noble image of the Virgin in her humanity, however conventional in composition, with his well-known *Madonna of the Olivet*.
In Bologna, an able draftsman and an epigone of Purism: Luigi Serra (1846–88), with *St. Bonaventure and St. Francis* in the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna in Rome; but especially in the Marches, Fra Paolo Mussini (q.v.), a Franciscan tertiary, holds a notable place in sacred art.
In Florence first, and later in Siena, we encounter the work of a Purist who sought to react against academicism, though without fully freeing himself from it: Luigi Mussini (1813–88), to whom belong, among other works, the cartoons for the musical scenes on the façade of Siena Cathedral, including *The Coronation of the Virgin* and *The Nativity*. His pupil Alessandro Franchi (1838–1914) continued Mussini’s art, as seen in his *Visitation* in the homonymous church in Siena.
In Florence, painters such as Antonio Ciseri (1821–91) with *The Martyrdom of the Maccabees* in S. Felicita represent much the same position, while others, like Antonio Puccinelli (1822–97), prepared—especially in sketches and portraits—for the advent of the Macchiaioli (q.v.), one of the most important schools of 19th-century Italian painting, though unfortunately remaining aloof from the complex issue of sacred art.
In Naples, another lively and multifaceted artistic center emerged. After the Posillipo school, led by Giacinto Gigante and verging on Romanticism, a form of realism increasingly asserted itself through artists often of diverse origins but who became Neapolitan in school. This realism found ingenious interpretations, even in sacred subjects, faithful to its time: for example, in *Mater Dolorosa* (c. 1870; Sulmona, Sardi collection) by Teofilo Patini (1840–1906), in the more celebrated *Corpus Domini* (1877; Rome, Crispini collection), or in *The Vow* (1880–83; Rome, Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna) by Francesco Paolo Michetti (1851–1929), and in *Christ among the Children* (1880; Naples, Accademia di Belle Arti) by Gaetano Esposito (1858–1911). Above all, two masters must be singled out: Gioacchino Toma (1836–91) and Domenico Morelli (q.v.). The former may be considered the greatest of the Neapolitan school for having revealed a lofty world of faith and sorrow, transforming reality into authentic poetry without resorting to superfluous illustrative touches; his masterpiece is *The Viaticum to the Orphan Girl* (1877) in the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Moderna in Rome. The latter, at times Romantic, at times a realist, at times academic, devoted much of his activity to sacred subjects, which he evidently loved and felt deeply; among his finest works we may cite *The Christ Deposed and Embalmed* (1871) and *Christ Served in the Desert by Angels* (1895) in the aforementioned Roman gallery. Following in his footsteps were others, including Paolo Vetri (1855–1937).
In our own age, alongside the work of artists who, though great and highly individual, remain tied to one or another current of the 19th century, new directions and tendencies have emerged in clear opposition to those of the past century. Yet amid such ferment and such struggles—and naturally in relation to social and political life—the complex issue of sacred art has often been neglected. Among the many artists who remained outside the currents of renewal, two stand out: Antonio Mancini (1852–1925), a superb colorist, and Armando Spadini (1883–1925), a fanciful interpreter of luminous, joyful hues. Of the former, only a *Holy Family* (1918) survives in the Alfredo Mancini collection in Venice, along with a few other sacred subjects; of the latter, the well-known *Finding of Moses* (1920) in the Galleria d’Arte Moderna in Milan, a pretext for the artist to depict a festive world.
Far more numerous are the artists tied to a tradition based on drawing and often academic, who in the 20th century continue the sacred iconography of the 19th century, which can only hold interest when it still conveys a sincere accent: thus Ubaldo Oppi (1889–1942; frescoes in the Chapel of St. Francis in the Basilica of St. Anthony in Padua), Corrado Mezzana (b. 1890; *St. Benedict, Patron of Labor*, 1945, at the National Federation of Labor Knights in Rome), and others. With robust forms, Ettore Tito (1859–1941) in the ceiling of the church of the Scalzi in Venice (1929–35) and even more in the modello in the possession of his son.
We can only follow the sacred theme in a very fragmentary way in the expressions of the most modern currents. There is nothing in Futurist painting, almost nothing in the work of that group of Italian artists active in Paris—Modigliani (1884–1920), De Chirico (b. 1888), Severini (b. 1883), Campigli (b. 1895), Tozzi (b. 1895), De Pisis (b. 1896), and others—who played such an important role in the development of contemporary art. One might cite, for example, G. Severini’s frescoes in the churches of Semsales-en-Gruyère and La Roche-en-Gruyère in Switzerland, or a small and delightful *Nativity* by Mario Tozzi in the possession of Monsignor Fallani in Rome.
In Turin, F. Carena (b. 1879), after various experiments, arrived at a monumental, simple, and coloristic form, thus renewing tradition; witness the fine canvases *The Apostles* in the Galleria d’Arte Moderna in Florence and *Pietà* in the Cini collection in Venice. In a rare *Crucifixion* (1944) by F. Casorati (b. 1886) in the Cologno collection in Biella, one can appreciate more the compositional balance and the juxtaposition of unified hues, not without a subtle taste for primitivism that may be traced back to Gauguin.
In Milan, the so-called Novecento group formed in 1922 (now disbanded), and one of its leading members, Piero Marussig (b. 1889), is noted for a recent and truly suggestive work, *The Holy Sepulchre* (1949). Among others active in Milan we may recall Carlo Carrà (b. 1881) with a *Deposition* (1948) that does not reveal the painter’s highest qualities; Aldo Carpi (b. 1886) with a merely decorative *Nativity* (1942); and among the less well-known, Augusto Colombo (b. 1902), who in his *Jesus and the Blind Boy* (1947) shows far greater commitment, seeking a dramatic moment with the utmost simplicity of means.
In Florence, too, the sacred theme is little treated. One of the most significant painters, Ottone Rosai (b. 1895), has a *Crucifixion* (1943) that is fine chiefly for its tonal harmonies and glazes. Gisberto Cercignani (b. 1890) seeks to simplify and monumentalize in the manner of 15th-century Tuscan models, as in a *Holy Family* (1946), noble certainly but with a patina that gives it a spurious antique appearance.
In Rome, Ferruccio Ferrazzi (b. 1892) has interpreted evangelical themes with his own distinctive character, as seen in *The Word of Christ* (1943–45), full of fantasy, in the Cardarelli collection in Milan. Also of interest for formal problems are the compositions of Antonio Achilli (b. 1903; *The Virgin Appearing to a Group of Saints*, 1949), and for the beauty of color and modernity of approach.
Certainly, the Crucifixions by S. Monacheschi (b. 1910), a Neapolitan, is noteworthy. Another Neapolitan is Giovanni Brancaccio (b. 1903), to whom we owe, among other works, a vast sketch with the Triumph of the Cross (1940) for the church of SS. Peter and Paul in Rome, which clearly recalls the past in a new vision.
Outside Italy, during the last century and the first half of our own, new currents in art arose which, even when they did not produce masterpieces, were of considerable importance for the history of taste, both for the influence they exerted everywhere—including Italy—and in the field of sacred art. It might be repeated here, as has already been observed, that this was not a triumphant age, though it did produce some very significant expressions. The Neoclassical movement, which had taken shape in Rome (mid-18th century) and had produced ingenious forms in its early decades, continued its course at the beginning of the 19th century and even after the Napoleonic era, but no longer with the same freedom of vision: often, creative spirit gave way to a painstaking study of models, easily lapsing into academicism. Neoclassical architecture did not forget what it had learned even at the end of the 18th and throughout the 19th century, producing works of undeniable nobility.
In France, one of the greatest monuments of the time remains the church of La Madeleine in Paris, built by Barthélemy Vignon (1762–1846) on the model of the Maison carrée in Nîmes. In England, where Neoclassical architecture had asserted itself in the 18th century in a truly ingenious manner—particularly through the work of Robert Adam (1728–92) and his brothers—churches were built with elegant Ionic porticoes of the Greek type and bell towers, such as those in London by William and Henry William Inwood (St. Pancras, 1819–22), C. R. Cockerell (St. George, 1823–25, demolished in 1897), Robert Smirke (St. Mary, 1823–24), John Soane (St. Mary-le-Strand, 1824–25), and J. Savage (St. James, 1827–29). In Germany, another country where sacred art was often not Catholic, one of the leading architects of the time, Karl Friedrich Schinkel (1782–1841), designed the church of St. Nicholas in Potsdam (1830–49), adopting a Greek-cross plan inscribed in a square, while Friedrich Weinbrenner (1766–1826), who gave a Neoclassical aspect to the interior of Karlsruhe, built there the Evangelical church (1807–15) and the Catholic church (1814). In Denmark, in Copenhagen, the church of Our Lady (1811–29) by Christian Frederick Hansen (1756–1845) is notable for the purity of its form, and in Russia, mention should be made of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Kazan in Leningrad (1801–11) by Andrei Nikiforovich Voronikhin (1759–1814), with its lofty dome and colonnade, and the Kronstadt Cathedral (1806–11) by Adrian Dmitrievich Zakharov (1761–1811). In Russia, however, great importance was held by the work of famous Italians such as Giacomo Quarenghi (1744–1817), Luigi Rusca (1758–1822), Carlo Rossi (1775–1849), and of Frenchmen, including Auguste Ricard de Montferrand (1786–1858), author of the Cathedral of St. Isaac in Leningrad, which recalls the Panthéon in Paris and St. Peter’s in Rome.
It was in England that the reaction against Neoclassicism first took shape. Even during the Neoclassical period, buildings had been constructed in the Gothic style, and when, in the Romantic period, the Middle Ages were sought after, knowledge of Gothic architecture was deepened in England, giving rise to that interesting phenomenon known as the Gothic Revival, which here, more than elsewhere, assumed a unified aspect. Churches of great refinement were built by Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin (1812–52), including St. George’s and St. Giles’s in London and St. Augustine’s in Ramsgate. Even more renowned is the work of Gilbert Scott (1811–78), who, unfortunately, also restored numerous medieval monuments, falsifying them. Soon, interest in Gothic spread to its land of origin, France, which found its greatest theorist in E. E. Viollet-le-Duc (1814–79), to whom we owe so many unfortunate restorations of famous cathedrals. Romantically, many architects adopted Gothic forms, and among other constructions, some typical Parisian churches arose: St. Clotilde (1846) by François-Christophe Gau (1790–1853), the Trinity (1867) by Théodore Ballu (1817–85), and the Sacré-Cœur (1875) by Paul Abadie the Younger (1812–84). Outside France, the movement did not attain equal importance: mention may be made of the Votive Church in Vienna by Heinrich von Ferstel (1828–83). The transition—already seen in Italy—to eclecticism was an easy one, that is, to the imitation and hybrid mixing of different styles of the past, with a decorative search that became wearisome. This was certainly the saddest period of 19th-century architecture, as evidenced by famous civil buildings such as the Paris Opera by Charles Garnier (1825–98), the Dresden Museum by Gottfried Semper (1803–79), or that in Munich by Gabriel Seidl (1848–1913). Among the numerous churches built in recent times and scattered everywhere, a few examples of the most disparate “styles” may be cited: Notre-Dame in Marseille (1855) by Léon Vaudoyer (1803–72); the Westminster Cathedral (1895–1903) in London by John F. Bentley (1839–1902), pseudo-Byzantine in style; the Sagrada Família in Barcelona by Antoni Gaudí (1852–1926), a veritable Gothic pastiche; St. Henry in Bamberg (exterior) by Michael Kurz (1876–?); the church at Boendael (Brussels) by Van den Nieuwenborgh (b. 1890); and the church of the Holy Spirit in Paris (1934) by Paul Tournon. Nor did the use of new materials (reinforced concrete, iron, glass), employed within old frameworks and for decorative effects, mark a renewal: consider the church of St. John the Evangelist in Paris (1894–1904) by Anatole de Baudot (1834–1915), the first church of reinforced concrete, and others by Auguste (b. 1874) and Gustave (b. 1876) Perret (Notre-Dame at Le Raincy, Seine-et-Oise, 1923, etc.).
At the close of the last century, as a reaction to erudite eclecticism, there arose the floral style known as Art Nouveau (v.), which displayed a persistent taste for ornamentation rather than an interest in clear and logical architectural structure.
As has already been noted at the outset, Viollet-le-Duc himself, Semper, and various English theorists in the 19th century had the merit of reacting in their writings against eclecticism and decorative excess, while insisting on principles of rationalism and functionalism which in themselves cannot bring about renewal, which is only possible with the formation of a new consciousness and the emergence of genuine sensitivity. And behold, these conditions began to materialize, as has already been said, in the works of Berlage in Holland, Boberg in Sweden, Behrens in Germany, and Wagner in Austria. In the field of sacred architecture, mention should be made of Boberg’s church at Saltsjöbaden near Stockholm, Behrens’ church of Peace in Linz, and Wagner’s church of St. Leopold in Vienna. In this preparatory period of renewal, the role played by the “Viennese Secession” must be recalled; it was founded by Wagner himself and Joseph Maria Olbrich (1867–1908) and sought a somewhat precious sobriety, emphasizing interior furnishings. To them, whose leading figure was Joseph Hoffmann (b. 1870), Adolphe Loos (1870–1933) opposed himself, attacking all refinement and ornamentation and often devising simple, box-like structures. However, the first to display a wholly new vision and definitively open the way to modern architecture were the Belgian Henry Van de Velde (b. 1863) and the American Frank Lloyd Wright (b. 1869), who, despite their rationalist and functionalist principles, demonstrated an absolutely new vision in both plans and elevations, creating clean volumes and broad, luminous surfaces inside and out, without any appeal to national traditions. Their work exerted a wide influence everywhere.
The most brilliant aspects of contemporary architecture are undoubtedly found in the Nordic countries. Thus in Holland, after Berlage’s work, there emerged the so-called Amsterdam School, which erred in adhering too closely to tradition and decorative excess. Yet among these architects, some sought simplification even while adopting Gothic schemes, such as A. J. Kropholler (b. 1881) with the interiors of Our Lady of Good Counsel in Beverwijk and of St. Anthony the Hermit in Rotterdam, and Jan Van Donge with the exterior of St. Francis in Steenwijkmoer and that of SS. Fabian and Sebastian in Apeldoorn. But against the Amsterdam School stood the more decisively innovative “De Stijl” group, until the new Rotterdam School emerged with J. A. Brinkman (b. 1902), L. C. Van der Vlugt (b. 1894), and others, who, on an international plane, exalted clean volumes and broad, luminous surfaces with sharp edges, culminating in projecting masses, large openings, and the use of glass, achieving an almost aerial, fantastic vision—especially in civic buildings. An interesting example among churches is St. Augustine in Amsterdam by K. P. Tholens, notable for its daring upward thrust and the superimposition of white cubic masses.
Similarly in Germany, a new art emerged after a preparatory phase. Though without the rigorous cubism of Walter Gropius (b. 1883) in civic buildings, artists such as Fritz Fuchsenberger (1876–1945) with St. Boniface in Erlangen, Dominikus Boehm (b. 1880) with St. Engelbert in Köln-Riehl (1930)—with its compact, semi-void façade and bold vaults and arches inside—and the Catholic church for foreigners on the island of Nordeney, with an even more modern cubist structure; Martin Weber (1890–1941) with Holy Cross in Frankfurt am Main, whose open exterior features a series of tall, narrow arcades; and Hans Herkommer (b. 1887) with Our Lady of Peace in the same city.
In Sweden, worthy of note is the church of Högalid near Stockholm by Ivar Tengbom (b. 1878), who creates simple masses without departing from national forms, as indeed do all Swedes. In Austria, one of the leading figures is Clemens Holzmeister (b. 1886), whose church in Linienstrasse in Berlin is notable for the measured interplay of volumes. Among others should be mentioned Karl Holey (b. 1879) and Karl Raimond Lorenz (b. 1909). In Czechoslovakia, Jaroslav Čermák (b. 1901) stands out for his truly modern vision, as seen in the church of St. John of Nepomuk in Prague (1938). For Slovenia, Plečnik and his school are remembered; for Hungary, Lajos Kozma (b. 1884).
Important is the place occupied by Switzerland, where contemporary architecture has been perfectly understood and successfully resolved. The first truly modern church may be cited as St. Anthony in Basel (1927) by Karl Moser (1860–1936), box-like, with broad windows and a vast, deep portal with five rectangular steps. Less ambitious but noteworthy are St. Charles in Lucerne (1933–34) by Fritz Metzger (b. 1898), simple, light, and luminous; and the rural church at Döttingen (1944) by Hermann Baur (b. 1894). Also to be remembered are Otto Dreyer, Joseph Schütz (b. 1898), and others.
In Belgium, attempts at renewal generally occur within traditional frameworks and with decorative tendencies, as seen in the churches of Albert Van Hulten (Sacred Heart in Brussels, 1921), Henry Vaes (abbeys of Our Lady at Clairfontaine and Orval), Henry Lacoste (churches at Beringen and Bléharies), Joseph Diongre (St. John the Baptist at Molenbeek near Brussels), and many others. Of some interest is the church of Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows at Diegem-Loo (Brussels) by H. Julien de Ridder (b. 1891), and the chapel of the College of the Immaculate Conception at Héverlé (Leuven) by Florent Van Reeth, luminous and with clean, box-like forms.
In France, the work of Le Corbusier (b. 1887)—a Swiss by birth active in civic architecture—is especially important, where he brought a wholly new, entirely personal vision of abstract tendency with his extremely light, almost suspended architectures, sharply cut, with white, thin walls that define space. Overall, apart from his creations, France’s contribution, with other minor architects, cannot compare to that of the northern European countries—especially in sacred architecture, where eclecticism often persists, albeit with modern tendencies, and where a clear, organic vision is generally lacking. For example, the interior of St. Joan of Arc in Nice by Jacques Droz is notable for the soaring vaults and arches and its starkness, but the exterior features a strange system of ovoid domes and semi-domes, not without Oriental reminiscences and of poor taste. Fairly interesting are the churches of St. James in Neuilly and of St. Mary of the Flowers in St-Maur-des-Fossés (Seine) by Henri Vidal (b. 1896). More modern in tendency is Our Lady of the Trinity in Blois by Paul Rouvière and Michel-Ives Froidevaux, with large windows, and the church at Assy by Pierre Navarin, which takes into account the surrounding mountainous landscape.
A mention should be made of the architecture of the two Americas, insofar as it reflects the European style, both in eclecticism and in modernity. As simple examples, we cite for Canada the church of St-Bruno (Montréal) by Tourville and that at Matane (Québec) by Paul Rousseau, which are the first two modern churches (1933) in the country, where they have exerted a wide influence, and the baptistery (1946) at St-Charles-de-Limoilou (Québec) by A. Henry Tremblay (b. 1901); for the United States, the church of Christ the King in Seattle (Washington) by Paul Thiry (b. 1904), one of the most original in its central plan and its light, simple, and luminous forms. Particularly bold in design are the cathedral of Chillán (Chile) by Hernán Larrain Errazuriz and the winning project for the basilica of St. Mary of Grace in Higuey (San Domingo) by the French architects André Dunoyer de Segonzac (b. 1915) and Pierre Dupré (b. 1913).
European sculpture of the 19th century, initially neoclassical-academic under the strong influence of Canova, could become vividly romantic, especially in France with François Rude (1784–1855), Pierre-Jean David d’Angers (1788–1856), and Antoine Barye (1795–1875). Later, it often lapsed into rhetorical eclecticism and facile naturalism, finally turning toward formal and painterly research with Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux (1827–75) and Auguste Rodin (1840–1917), or toward ideological illustration with the Belgian Constantin Meunier (1831–1905), or toward abstract formalism with the German Adolph von Hildebrandt (1847–1921). These are only the most salient aspects, but the sacred theme remained largely foreign to this development. Nor in the present century have the leading masters, such as the French Aristide Maillol (1861–1944) and Charles Despiau (1874–1946), who restored to sculpture a new beauty through full, precise forms rendered with fine sensitivity and rhythmic calm, or certain Germans who pushed expressionism to paroxysm, felt the religious subject. Nevertheless, the sacred theme has not been absent from sculpture since the late 19th century, and without detailing its characteristics, some significant modern works from various European regions may be noted.
In France, especially noteworthy for its expressive monumentality is the Virgin of the Offering (1920–23) at Nieberdrück (Alsace) by Émile-Antoine Bourdelle (1861–1929). Many works remain conventional in character, either eclectic, banally naturalistic, or falsely modern. More recent, however, is a Pietà in low relief (1943) by Raymond Delamarre (b. 1890), of some interest for its sober stylization and severe expression, and several small bronzes by Jean Lambert-Rucki (b. 1888), of Polish origin, are also engaging. Among Belgian artists, George Minne (1866–1941; Pietà, 1938), Oscar Sinia (Pietà in the Museum of Ghent), Oscar de Clerck (b. 1892; baptismal font, 1937), and Camille Colruyt (b. 1908; Easter candle holder, 1948) stand out. In the Netherlands, notable figures include Charles Vos (b. 1888; Entombment in terracotta in the Municipal Museum, The Hague), Herman van Remmen (b. 1889; Pietà in St. Francis, Groningen), Albert Termote, a Belgian by birth (b. 1887; Pietà of 1948 in St. Adrian, Naaldwijk), Wim Harzing (b. 1898; Crucifixion and other reliefs in St. Lawrence, Voorschoten), P. Renald Rats (b. 1900; various ceramic Pietàs), and Wim Nijs (b. 1902; baptismal font in terracotta with bas-reliefs, 1949). In Germany, Peter Ferkatz (Madonna and Child, bronze group), Heinrich Baenner (Crucifixion in wood, strongly expressive), Karl Baur (Pentecost, brown relief in St. Anthony, Augsburg), Emil Sutor (Christ Falling under the Cross), C. Dell’Antonio (wood sculptor; Pietà, etc.), and Berthold Müller (b. 1893; group of the Women at the Sepulchre) have contributed works of note. In Denmark, Chresten Skikkild (1927) and Aksel Theilmann, Eigil Vedel Schmidt, and others are active; in Sweden, Nils Sjögren. In Austria, wood sculpture of a traditional type is characteristic: the Madonna and Child in St. Othmar, Vienna, by Franz Barwig the Elder (1868–1931); the Nativity (1949) in St. Stephen, Vienna, by Josef Troyer (b. 1908); Christ the King by Josef Staud (1949); and the Last Supper (1950) by Sepp Kals (b. 1911). In Switzerland, by contrast, demonic intensity is found in the Assumption in the church of Échallens (Vaud) and in the reliefs of the portal of Our Lady in Bern by François Baud. The Annunciation, a terracotta group by Hans von Matt, exhibits an almost folk-like naive grace, and the Resurrection (1949) by Albert Schilling (b. 1904) is also notable. Croatia takes pride in the celebrated Ivan Meštrović (b. 1883), whose vigorously expressive forms include the Stigmata of St. Francis in the church of the General Curia of the Friars Minor in Rome. Among the Czechs, Ignác Weirich (1856–1916) is remembered for his moving Pietà (1914) in the Palazzo di Propaganda Fide in Rome. Finally, in Catholic Poland, notable interpreters of sacred themes include Pius Weloński (Way of the Cross around the fortifications of the Sanctuary of Częstochowa), Konstanty Laszczka, Jan Szczepkowski, Jadwiga Bohdanowicz (1887–1943; Christ among the Sick), Zygmunt Wolf (b. 1912; The Women at the Sepulchre), Tadeusz Adam Zieliński (b. 1907; Pietà, a wood relief of 1950, full of character in its modern stylization), Maciej Pio-Trowski (a delightful Annunciation in wood relief), and several others.
The sacred theme has also developed in 19th- and 20th-century painting, though it has been strongly challenged by the interest in man and nature. Between the 18th and 19th centuries, Spain produced one of the greatest masters of color and thus of modern painting, Francisco José Goya y Lucientes (v. 1746–1828), who in his Crucifixion in the Prado Museum in Madrid reveals himself as a superb interpreter of the sacred theme. Neoclassical painting of the early 19th century, however, remained distant from emotion, preoccupied above all with reconstructing antiquity; sacred scenes, like profane ones, generally resolved into vast and cold compositions. A typical example is the Raising of the Son of the Widow of Nain (1816) in the Lille Museum by Jean-Baptiste-Joseph Wicar (1762–1834). In France, a reaction against neoclassicism began INGRES, JEAN-AUGUSTE-DOMINIQUE (v.), who later, pursuing an intellectualist search for form and line under the influence of Raphael, became a substitute neoclassicist DELACROIX, EUGÈNE (v.), the ardent herald of the romantic creed with his robust deformations and rich coloristic impasto.
Daily sketches are kept in the Ferdinandeum in Innsbruck. The Impressionist movement, which followed Realism and so profoundly renewed French painting before later spreading to other countries, such as Germany with Max Liebermann (1847–1935), could not address the problem of sacred art, entirely preoccupied as it was with rendering the most fleeting moments of the day in the ceaseless vibration of light. Yet at the same time, France—far more successfully than Germany with the Benedictine school of the monastery at Beuron, which was so decorative and academic in character—opened the way to the renewal of sacred art through the establishment of the Société St-Jean (Paris, 1872).
It was only later, in the period of the new Neo-Impressionist experiment with Georges-Pierre Seurat (1859–91), that Symbolism emerged between 1886 and 1890. One of its most notable representatives, Maurice Denis (q.v.), influenced by Puvis de Chavannes and pointing to the primitives, restored sacred painting to honor through a stylized form, clear outlines, and flat juxtaposed colors. Of a very different temperament but formed in the same milieu was another major master of sacred art, Georges Desvallières (b. 1861), whose robust and tormented forms conveyed strong expression; one need only recall his tragic *Sacré-Cœur*. To these two artists, still active today, we owe the foundation of the Ateliers d'art sacré (1920), which still exist.
One searches in vain for sacred themes in the works of the three great masters who, each in a different way but all seeking synthesis and intense color, renewed painting once more and exerted a remarkable influence on that of our century: Paul Cézanne (1839–1906), Paul Gauguin (1848–1903), the greatest of the Symbolists, and Vincent van Gogh (1853–1900). The same can be said of others, such as Pierre Bonnard (1867–1947) and Édouard Vuillard (1868–1940), who moved from Symbolism to a new and felicitous form of Impressionism. Even for 20th-century painting, the great center remains France, specifically Paris; yet the movements that dominate all international painting—first Fauvism with Henri Matisse (b. 1869) and Cubism with Pablo Picasso (b. 1881), born as if from a need to start anew in order to arrive at painting in and of itself, and then others such as Surrealism (with Mark Sagal [b. 1887], Salvador Dalí [b. 1904], etc.) and Abstractionism—neither gave nor could have given anything, given their premises and limitations, in the lofty realm of sacred art. Generally speaking, even the painters—French and foreign—of the most diverse tendencies who constitute the so-called School of Paris remained estranged from II. Nevertheless, some have distinguished themselves with even very important manifestations of sacred art.
First and foremost stands the work of Georges Rouault (b. 1871), an artist who more than any other knew how to offer a truly modern and evocative interpretation of the evangelical world through essential and robust forms and deep, resplendent colors like enamels: witness his *Christ Crowned with Thorns*. His stained glass and engravings are also of great beauty. We may also recall Marcel Gromaire’s (b. 1892) *Christ Mocked*, an Impressionist work; Édouard Goerg’s (b. 1893) *Crucifixion*, to whom we also owe a fine series of lithographs illustrating the *Apocalypse*; and various scenes by the celebrated Japanese artist Foujita, not without the influence of Italian primitives (*Annunciation, Madonna and Child, Crucifix*, etc.). Finally, it is noteworthy that today, well over eighty years old, Henri Matisse, one of the leading masters of contemporary painting, chose to tackle the sacred theme by working on the chapel of the Dominican nuns at Vence (Alpes-Maritimes).
To these great names many lesser ones may be added, such as Albert Gleizes (*Deposition*), Hébert-Stevens (*Pietà*), Pauline Peugniez (b. 1890; *The Primitive Church* in Saint-Spiritus in Paris; *Christmas Among the Ruins*, 1950), André Osterlind (b. 1887; *Deposition*, 1944), and countless others, whose works are often open to debate.
Let us now briefly examine the most significant representations of sacred painting in our century in other European countries. In Belgium, after Jacob Smits (1855–1928; *Love One Another*) and Auguste Donnay (1862–1921; *Flight into Egypt*, in the Liège Museum), still traditional, Gustave Van de Woestijne and Albert Servaes (b. 1883) succeeded in creating truly modern sacred art, the latter’s *Way of the Cross* in the Museum of Modern Religious Art in Utrecht being particularly notable for its somber colors, rapid brushstrokes, and tragic effect. Armand Jamar (1870–1946) also reveals a dramatic sensibility in his interesting *Deposition* (1938) in the De Winter collection in Bruges.
In the Netherlands, the tradition of sacred painting has always predominated, even when renewal was sought. Between the Garden of Olives and the 20th century, under the influence of Italian quattrocentists, English Pre-Raphaelites, and the Frenchman Puvis de Chavannes, a taste for line and stylized form developed, and at that time there worked among others a truly personal artist, Jan Theodor Toorop (1838–1928): notable for the energy of their conception and line are the charcoal studies for figures of the Apostles (1910) in the Municipal Museum of Amsterdam. A reaction against this manner came in the form of a Baroque-inspired style, based on sinuous and dynamic lines, exemplified by the painting of Henri Jonas (1878–1944), who sought delicate symphonies of color (Magnificat, 1938, in the church of Genhout-Beek), or by Joep Nicolas (b. 1897), who instead employed lean forms and broken, intense lines (Crucifixion, monochrome on opal glass, 1932, in the Museum of Modern Religious Art in Utrecht). Other painters remain essentially traditionalists, such as Joseph Ten Horn (b. 1894; frescoes in St. Bartholomew’s, Nevenbergen), or even academic, like Joan Collette (b. 1889; frescoes in the churches of Reymersstock and Bois-le-Duc, 1926 and 1930). The same can be said of painters of subsequent generations, such as Max Weis (b. 1910), whose colors and forms are more Baroque than ever, albeit expressive (Deposition, on opal glass), or Gérard H. C. A. Hérman (b. 1914), who even harks back to Dutch Renaissance painting (Return from Egypt, 1930). To foster the development of sacred art, a Catholic Academy of Fine Arts has recently been established in Maastricht.
In Germany, the major movement that followed Impressionism (q.v.) was its very opposite, a distinctly Nordic phenomenon known as Expressionism (q.v.), which carried the violence of form to the point of exaggeration and the turbid expression of the individual to the point of allusion. The group known as “Die Brücke” was founded in Dresden, and it undoubtedly marked the renewal of sacred art; later, after 1918, some of its leading representatives turned to sacred themes: Emil Nolde (b. 1867) in large altarpieces, Ernst Barlach (1870–1938) with scenes from the Old Testament. Of a different tendency and more measured spirit, yet achieving unforgettable expressions through patches of color and light, is Karl Caspar (b. 1879), author of a Passion triptych (1916–17) and of the frescoes in the apse of the western choir of Bamberg Cathedral. Others give their sacred scenes an aspect of calm naturalism, albeit somewhat facile, through simple composition and robust forms (Ernst Bahn with a Rest on the Flight into Egypt; M. Ludwig Hotter with frescoes in the churches of Bad-Vueser and Hallgarten), though there are no lack of academic artists, whether in tradition or in the repetition of modern forms.
In Denmark, a painter of taste in his modernity is Joakim Skovgaard (1856–1933; mural paintings in the apse and ceiling of Lund Cathedral). Also notable are Joakim Nielsen (frescoes in St. Elisabeth’s Hospital, Copenhagen) and Brigitte West (b. 1901; frescoes in the Sacred Heart, Randers). In Norway, the leading painter is Henrik Ingvar Sørensen (b. 1882) for the strength of character in his figures (paintings in the Protestant church of Linköping).
Finland counts among its artists Alvar Cawén (1886–1935), author of an altarpiece, Prayer (1933), in the church of Simpele, which still echoes the realism and mysticism of Millet; Tyko Konstantin Sallinen (b. 1879), an Expressionist, with a Crucifixion (1939) and an Adoration of the Magi (1941); while Lennart Segerstråle (b. 1892) remains a traditionalist.
Few Austrian painters stand out for personal qualities, e.g., Anton Faistauer, Karl Pehatschek (b. 1910; Last Judgment). More interesting artists, however, are found in Switzerland: besides Pietro Chiesa (b. 1876) of calm, traditional naturalism (Quid ploras?), and Paul Monnier, who in St. Charles Borromeo during the Plague of Milan, in the church of Avusy (Geneva), even harks back to the 17th century while giving a lively scene through chiaroscuro. Also worthy of mention are Alexandre Cingria (b. 1879) for a distinctive sense of fanciful decoration (triptych of Our Lady of Mercy in the church of Finhaut in Valais), Emilio Maria Beretta (b. 1907) with Spanish reminiscences and not without influence from Cingria, yet with a loose brushstroke (Pietà in the cemetery of Muralto; various decorative frescoes), and Hans Stocker (b. 1896), the most modern in his schematic decorations (Last Judgment, 1934–1938). In 1924, the St. Luke Society was founded to promote sacred art.
Hungary, which at the end of the 19th century had produced famous artists such as Mihály Lieb, known as Munkácsy (1844–1909), author of the vast scene Christ before Pilate (1881), now in Philadelphia, in an illustrative style, today has artists such as Paul Molnár (b. 1894) and the exceptionally refined Gyula Rudnay (b. 1878), with a light and luminous touch (Salutatio angelica, c. 1924, in the International Gallery of Modern Art in Venice).
In Poland, which in the second half of the last century had artists of undeniable quality, though too preoccupied with history or followers of naturalism, such as Jan Matejko (1838–1933; frescoes in St. Mary’s Church, Cracow), his pupil Stanisław Wyspiański (1869–1907; frescoes and stained glass in the Franciscan church in Cracow, 1897–1902), Henryk Siemiradzki (1843–1902; Christ in the House of Martha and Mary in the Academy of Fine Arts, Leningrad), Jan Styka (1859–1925; numerous representations of Quo Vadis), at the beginning of our half-century the most notable painters include Karol Frycz (b. 1876), Fryderyk Pautsch (b. 1877), Kazimierz Sichulski (b. 1879), and today Adam Bunsch (b. 1896) is appreciated for his modern simplicity, author not only of paintings (in St. Mary’s Church, Katowice) but also of fine stained-glass cartoons (for the Polish National Church in London).
Russia too has produced some painters who interpret the sacred world: in the last century, above all Aleksandr Andreyevich Ivanov (1806–1885; Sermon of St. John the Baptist in the Wilderness in the Rumyantsev Museum, Moscow; Appearance of Christ to the People, etc., with reminiscences of a Roman work, as recounted by Ivan Ivanov in 1911), Vladimir Komarovsky (The Virgin and Angels, etc., in the same exhibition), Ilya Yefimovich Repin (1844–1930; sacred themes in his youth), Alexei Yisupov (various sacred subjects in his early period, figures of the Virgin and Christ later).
For brevity’s sake, we omit discussion of other European countries where, though there are certainly noteworthy artists, their work generally remains within traditional forms and has contributed little to modern sacred art. The same applies to the two Americas, which, though often dependent on Europe, have at times produced original expressions, as in the case of Mexican painting.
A discussion of the so-called minor arts would be of particular interest, but we must limit ourselves here to noting the interesting renewal in France—and also in Belgium, Germany, and elsewhere—of objects for worship (chasubles, chalices, etc.). Today, stained glass has assumed great importance, characterized by thoroughly modern approaches, in France (Desvallières, Rouault, Le Chevalier, Hébert-Stevens), Germany (Luckener, Klein, Gitzinger, Baumhauer, Meistermann, etc.), the Netherlands (Joans, Trautwein, Nicolas, Stokhof de Jong, Slijpen, etc.), Switzerland (Cingria, Wanner, Staiger, Stocker, etc.), Poland (after Wyspianski and Mehoff, Bunsch, Mazur, and others), and the beauty of the engravings by the French (whether by birth or training: Rouault, Chagall, Goerg, Hervieu), the Belgians (Jean Donnay), the Poles (Skoczylas, Krasnodebska, Mrozewski, Bartłomiejczyk, Kulisiewicz, Prohaska, Wroblewska), the Lithuanian V. K. Jonynas, and others. Nor should we forget the tapestries (in France with Lurçat and the Aubusson workshop), ceramics (in France, Poland, etc.), embroidery (in Germany, the Netherlands, etc.), painted fabrics (with the Hungarian Hajnal), and other genres of the minor arts, which have produced expressions of truly elevated artistry to the praise and glory of the Church. — See pl. LXXIX–LXXXII.