It is nothing new that an exhibition catalogue, such as this one from the Prado, proves to be of academic importance. However, in the field of Golden Age Spanish Art Studies over recent decades a number of catalogues have served as landmarks signalling substantial advances in the understanding of the social, intellectual, and cultural significance of Spanish paintings and sculptures. The genre’s multifaceted approach articulated through a range of essays permits a deeper interdisciplinary study of artworks by a range of scholars. An excellent example of this is another volume accompanying a recent Prado exhibition, the 2007 Velázquez’s Fables: Mythology and Sacred History in the Golden Age, which provided a valuable and searching study of Velázquez’s treatments of religious, mythological, and historical subjects with particular attention to the culture that shaped both their production and reception. Of further note is the fact that catalogues such as Velázquez’s Fables and this one devoted to the painter and Dominican Friar Juan Bautist Maíno, another key figure in the artistic milieu of the court of Philip IV, are translated into English.

Juan Bautista Maíno (1581–1641) contains four essays, by Leticia Ruiz Gómez, Gabriele Finaldi, Fernando Marías, and María Cruz de Carlos Varona, all of which are translated along with each of the catalogue entries for the forty-four paintings by Maíno that were shown in the exhibition. An appendix of excerpts from sixty-four archival documents related to the life of Maíno are not translated, but these are likely to be of more interest to those whose language skills and interest in the subject already enable them to engage with this documentary material. Thus from the outset it is to be noted that this catalogue is not only an important work of scholarship but also a valuable teaching resource that complements the work on the cultural history of the court of Philip IV by scholars such as Jonathan Brown and John Elliott among others, and allows the teaching of Spanish Golden Age Art Studies to situate Velázquez and his work alongside the important but still little-known works by contemporaries such as Maíno.

Until now Maíno’s fame has been essentially based on one painting, which in itself is an achievement. The Recapture of Bahía de Todos los Santos (1634–35) was one of the twelve battle paintings hung in the Hall of Realms in the Buen Retiro palace. It has since then long been the subject of praise and critical scrutiny. Of this series of paintings it is the only other painting alongside that of Velázquez’s Surrender at Breda (1634–35) that reveals an original engagement with the composition and narrative potential of the battle painting as genre. Naturally, this work is the subject of a lengthy catalogue entry as well as being examined in the essay by Marías and de Carlos Varona who comment that, “it is evident that at the time the Dominican Friar’s painting won the hypothetical competition hands down from a political standpoint” (275). As they continue their analysis, they examine a range of sources and focus on Maíno’s depiction of Philip IV being crowned by his Valido, the Count-Duke of Olivares. However, not only does their catalogue entry text develop an understanding of this singular Baroque painting with its subtle play of naturalism, theatricality, and allegory laden with political significance and literary reference, it places it firmly in the context of the life and career of its creator.

Born in 1581, Maíno belongs to the generation prior to Velázquez, Zurbarán, and Cano, and knowledge of his work is essential to understanding one of the key themes of Spanish Art historiography, i.e., the emergence and development of naturalist painting in Spain. In the opening essay Ruiz Gómez provides an insightful survey of the historiography of Maíno, which shows how his importance in regard to Spanish naturalism has been articulated over the centuries. A key issue has been Maíno’s knowledge and imitation of the style of Caravaggio, which was been discussed and demonstrated by Caravaggio experts such as Richard Spear, as well as scholars of Spanish Art such as Alfonso E. Peréz Sanchez and Enriquetta Harris. The third essay in the catalogue, “On Maíno and Italy,” by Gabriele Finaldi takes up this theme, continuing the biographical tale of Maíno’s early years in the second essay, again by Ruiz Gómez. Finaldi discusses not only the painter’s Italian origins but most importantly the time he spent in Lombardy, Naples, and Rome; new documentation published here reveals that as early as 1605 he was in Rome, when his natural son was baptized, and that he was still there in 1609. As Finaldi states, “Maíno was in Rome just at the time when Caravaggio’s novel naturalistic manner was causing a sensation and converting self-respecting mannerists . . . into followers of a new ‘caravaggesque’ cult” (268). Maíno’s two depictions of the Adorations of the Kings and the Shepherds are the most revealing examples of his response to the many novelties of the caravaggesque style, such as the treatment of color, light, and shadow, the attention to life-like detail, and novel compositional strategies to engage spectators’ imaginations. However, Maíno’s work not only reveals the artist’s own particular assimilation of what he studied in Italy, but as the 1610 Conversion of St. Paul shows and as Finaldi discusses with regard to the few extant paintings of this period, combined with those Maíno went onto paint, his awareness and response to other artists is evident, in particular Guido Reni and Orazio Gentileschi. While many questions still remain to be answered about Maíno’s time in Italy, it is apparent that when he returned to Spain in 1611 his work had undergone a crucial phase of development that would have important repercussions on subsequent Spanish artists and the formation of a taste for naturalist painting among the ecclesiastical and noble patrons.

As significant as Maíno’s Italianate qualities are, it is important to set them alongside others that may be understood as characteristic of Spanish Baroque art and which this catalogue valuably discusses. Perhaps most important of all is the painter’s close ties to the church, and in particular the Dominican order which he joined in 1613. Although Maíno’s extant oeuvre is limited, the range of works catalogued for Juan Bautista Maíno (1581–1641) reveals him undertaking important ecclesiastical commissions, primarily in Toledo. The catalogue provides excellent reproductions, with a range of details and commentaries on the commissions he undertook, such as both the altarpiece and the oil-and-tempera murals in the Church of St. Peter Martyr, completed between 1611–13, as well as devotional subjects such as those of St. Hyacinth and the Penitent Magdalene. The last of the four essays, by Marías and de Carlos Varona, examines these works in the context of Maíno’s particular status as a friar, and a courtier. In 1616 he was named as drawing instructor to the future Philip IV. As Marías and de Carlos Varona discuss, he maintained good relations with the ascendant political figure of the Count-Duke of Olivares, whose role as Valido to Philip IV Maíno later eulogized in the Hall of Realms. Another particular Spanish facet of Maíno emerges during his years spent at the court where he undertook portraits in a more formal sense that show his depiction of the particular austere naturalism of Spanish portraiture. Examples of these portraits are found toward the end of the catalogue, although some, including one of Philip IV, remain to have their attributions certified.

It is by looking at Maíno as friar, courtier, and painter of religious subjects as well as portraits that the importance of his years in Italy can be truly gauged. These subsequent years reveal the application of all he had learned as he developed his own manner of painting in his ecclesiastical commissions, in his portrayals of secular and religious figures, and of course in his singular essay in history painting. Many questions remain to be explored with regard to Maíno. For example, it would be interesting to know more about his relationship to Philip IV and to reflect on the possible ways in which he may have shaped the artistic tastes and skills of one of Europe’s most important collectors and patrons of art. Nonetheless, the Juan Bautista Maíno (1581–1641) catalogue provides for the first time a detailed account of his life and is a well-illustrated survey of his oeuvre which underscores his importance as a painter and broadens an understanding of Spanish Baroque Art in important ways.