THE GLORIES OF ROCOCO IN SOUTH GERMANY

The Rococo style, which flourished roughly between 1720 and 1770, was never really taken up by British architects of the 18^th Century. Rococo was in part a reaction from the heavily statuesque vistas of the Baroque, notably at Louis X1V’s Versailles. In Britain the Baroque of Wren, Hawksmoor and Vanburgh evolved into Palladianism and later detoured to Strawberry Hill Gothick, before the advent of Neo-Classicism. Probably Rococo was thought too emotionally Catholic; even a Catholic architect like James Gibbs (born in Aberdeen), gifted in the Palladian idiom, never pursued Rococo and his St Martin’s in the Fields Church instead became ironically a blueprint for the Protestant churches of New England.

Rococo influences can be seen throughout Europe in other art-forms, in Chippendale furniture, in Sevres porcelain and above all in the exquisite paintings of Watteau, Boucher and Fragonard, whose iconic “The Swing” graces the Wallace Collection. Some fine Rococo buildings were erected in provincial France, in the Low Countries, in Iberia and in Italy, but the architectural style was most warmly embraced in central Europe, in Poland, Western Russia, Bohemia, Austria and above all in Southern Germany.

Germany in general is not greatly visited by the British, whose European touristic sights are usually levelled at the Mediterranean after a stop-over in Paris. But South Germany is a treasure-house where the admirer of Rococo can feast on The Bishops Palace at Wurzburg, where the frescos of Tiepolo complement the grand designs of Balthasar Neumann; the supremely elegant Amalienburg at the Nymphenburg Palace and the Munich Residenz Theatre both by the accomplished court dwarf Cuvillies: St John Nepomuk, also in Munich, with its resplendent altar, the masterpiece of the Asam brothers; further afield the succession of gorgeous Rococo churches at Steinhausen, Weltenburg, Steingaden and Regensburg dizzy the eye.

Three Rococo masterpieces stand out; all are churches and pilgrimage churches to boot, upon which great wealth and great artistic genius have been lavished, Ottobeuren, Die Wies and Vierzehnheiligen.

Ottobeuren

Ottobeuren Abbey, near Memmingen in Swabia, mainly the work of J F Fischer and Dominicus Zimmermann, shares with the other two the “WowFactor” to a very high degree. Situated in the centre of a small town and dominating all, its external aspects are impressive and stately Baroque. But enter, and the visitor is rooted to the spot, astonished by the riot of beauty and colour he beholds. The aisle leads conventionally enough to the altar but on all sides subsidiary chapels burst forth with rapt, beautifully carved, wood and plaster saints, scrolls of delectable foliage, asymmetry everywhere, broken arches, trumpeting angels, smiling cherubim, all glimmering in white, cream and gold-leaf and everywhere swirling stucco apotheoses. Truly it is a vision of Heaven.

Die Wies

The externals of Die Wies (The Meadow), near Steingaden in Bavaria, by Dominicus Zimmermann, are more modest. It stands alone in a country field and its walls are boxy and almost barn-like.  Inside the contrast is overwhelming. A Catholic commentator wrote "Everything was done throughout the church to make the supernatural visible. Sculpture and murals combined to unleash the divine in visible form"^. Founded after a wooden picture of the Scourged Virgin miraculously shed tears, Die Wies is another celestial riot, all movement and excitement, with ecstatic Transfigurations and Ascensions edifying the pilgrims and the interior beauty hugely impressing the less committed onlooker.

Vierzehnheiligen

At Vierzehnheilegen ("The 14 Saints”), by Balthasar Neumann, perched monumentally above the Main, near Bamberg in Franconia, the atmosphere is slightly more devotional. It is essentially a shrine and the internal arrangements are complex. A magnificent main altar is complemented by a second resplendent central altar to the 14 Saints, whose legends are there venerated, and oblong chapels and baldachins link it all together. Again the Rococo decoration is overwhelming, creating a joyful religious confusion of golden saints, angels and cherubs.

These Rococo churches are emotionally very moving. At a great medieval cathedral such as Lincoln or Amiens, the visitor is inspired to sacred thought and prayer by the solemnity of the building. The great Rococo churches make anyone with an iota of religious feeling, even a sceptical Scot, want to sing and dance in bliss.  The life-enhancing spirit of these churches evokes the fugues of Bach, the choruses of Handel or the symphonies of Mozart.

The names of Neumann, (“certainly one of the greatest architects of the 18^th century” in Kenneth Clark’s view), Zimmerman and Fischer are sadly not well-known in Britain. Sometimes Rococo goes over the top in its exuberance of delight, with Pevsner sniffing about “the hint of confectionery” – but who cares if John Knox revolves in his grave, if dry rationalists gnash their teeth, when these great buildings bring such happiness and such unalloyed joy.

SMD
4.12.10                                                   Text Copyright Sidney Donald 2010