Many readers of these reviews have passing knowledge of the salient facts of Portuguese cultural history during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. A list of such facts would include the rule of João V (1706–50), noteworthy for its duration and riches (thanks particularly to Brazilian gold), as well as the sustained (and ultimately successful) attempts by João to convince the Papacy to establish a patriarchate in Lisbon. Even better known are the king’s construction of the gigantic and oddly situated monastery-palace of Mafra; the horrible earthquake of 1755 that decimated Lisbon and so shook European culture that Madame de Pompadour went days without makeup in order to show her solidarity with the suffering masses of Portugal; and the authoritarian role of the Marquês de Pombal under José I (r. 1750–77) in rebuilding Lisbon and bringing Enlightenment ways of thinking to the governance of Portuguese society.

Yet few writers have ever attempted in English to situate these red-letter events within a broader art-historical narrative and, more importantly, from a perspective that is firmly rooted in the extreme southwest corner of Europe rather than the more geographically central regions of the subcontinent. For the first time in any language, in fact, Angela Delaforce’s excellent new volume addresses these shortcomings by giving sustained focus to both the local and international dynamics of Portuguese art patronage during this period. She has done a daunting amount of work in a score of libraries across Europe in pulling off this ambitious project. Thanks to her work, we see the dynamics of eighteenth-century European art patronage for the first time from a fully Portuguese perspective, and that viewpoint is valuable for anyone with interests in Italian, French, British, or Spanish art in the long eighteenth century.

Some measure of the book’s freshness of perspective may be adduced through the following facts: one reads more than 175 pages before encountering a discussion of João Frederico Ludovice, the royal architect of Mafra, and over 200 before arriving at any sustained discussion of the monastery-palace’s architectural and artistic riches. Pombal is not mentioned until page 282, and discussion of the 1755 earthquake must wait till page 285. In other words, Delaforce patiently traces the period through a series of thematic essays in roughly chronological order—so when we arrive at these major events of the mid- and late eighteenth century in the last third or so of the book, their impact seems much more compelling because the reader now knows something about the remarkable artistic accomplishments of Portugal up to that time.

Like many absolutist monarchs, João V spent lavishly on the arts in order to optimize the magnificence and grandeur of the crown and its attendant ceremonial manifestations, both at court and in ecclesiastical contexts. Many Portuguese aristocrats emulated his lavish tendencies, as we see in chapter 6. Delaforce methodically works her way to impressive effect through the patronage of this monarch (in chapters 2–5), with greatest attention given to his adornment of the destroyed royal palace, the Paço da Ribeira, and the stocking of the library within that palace. Another royal project receiving emphasis here is the king’s expansion of the Royal Chapel (also destroyed in 1755), upon the aforementioned elevation of Lisbon to the level of a patriarchate. Agents of the king are also discussed throughout the first parts of the book, and especially in chapter 4. In addition to the demands of diplomacy, many of the envoys of the Joanine court were kept on a short leash through a directed program of locating, buying, and commissioning antiquarian and artistic objects and books throughout Europe for the crown. Delaforce shows clearly in international correspondence of the day the impact of this work on other Europeans. For most of the middle decades of the century, João and his diplomats were constant topics of conversation across Europe—after all, his cultural and political agenda was ambitious, amazingly well funded, and persisted for more than four decades. As such, it simply could not be ignored, even though with his death in 1750 and the destruction of most of his accomplishments as patron barely five years after that, our contemporary awareness of those achievements has been understandably muted. Delaforce does significant work here in reestablishing João’s prominence as one of the greatest cultural patrons in all of European history.

The book also looks at patronage in northern Portugal (chapter 7), with particular attention to the little-known but distinctive late Baroque and Rococo tendencies manifest in the work of Nicolau Nasoni (primarily in Oporto) and André Ribeiro Soares da Silva (mostly in Braga). Although Delaforce does a good job in setting out the ecclesiastical particularities of patronage in the north of the kingdom, she focuses here more than in previous chapters on formal description, as if to heighten appreciation for the distinctiveness of the region’s art—practically for the first time in any nuanced fashion among English-speaking scholars since the work of Robert C. Smith in the 1960s and early 1970s. In this chapter there is ostensive linkage between text and large, good-quality black-and-white plates, but as is seen increasingly in art publication nowadays (due no doubt to the increasing difficulties and costs of securing photographic rights), there are also examples of disconnection between text and illustration as well—not only in this chapter, but throughout the book. (The color plates are generally good and well selected, but unfortunately one or two are of rather poor quality.) The patronage of José I is the focus of chapter 8, while collectors and connoisseurs of the late eighteenth century are discussed in chapter 9. The final chapter examines the changing status of academic practice and theory in Portugal, with the dearth of royal munificence for academic institutions standing out as a relatively overt point of emphasis for the author.

Throughout the book, in fact, Delaforce seems much more concerned with the expository responsibilities of presenting a wealth of material than interpreting it. Broader intellectual trends of the period are often no more than alluded to (although supported with appropriate references in the endnotes, which are employed throughout mostly for purposes of citation rather than discussion). Rhetorical posturing is almost nonexistent in Delaforce’s writing, and she is refreshingly modest about her scholarly contributions to the text. Without fanfare, her archival discoveries are seamlessly interwoven with secondary sources and modern literature of the subfield. There is a remarkable leanness to the text overall—she avoids a formal introduction, making chapter 1 a good prologue on the prior artistic history of the Portuguese monarchy up to the 1700s, and the subsequent chapters present no extended statements of thesis or summary conclusions; when the author has finished presenting material for a given chapter, it simply ends. In other words, the book is incredibly generous in informational and bibliographical terms (as it should be for the price listed), but for most English-speaking scholars it will serve more as a text to be consulted on specific issues and for particular perspectives than one to be read through from beginning to end.

Criticisms are few and minor. Delaforce’s discussion of aesthetics in chapter 10 could have included some reference to the essays found in the exhibition catalogue Bento Coelho (1620–1708) e a Cultura do seu Tempo (Lisbon: Ministério da Cultura, 1998)—very useful for the earlier part of the period she covers, prior to João V. In chapter 9, Delaforce emphasizes the relative lack of interest in the arts by Pombal but does not stress the role played in his government by the private patrons she does discuss. Thus, while Delaforce gives needed attention to the patronage of such scholars as the Franciscan Frei Manuel do Cenáculo de Vilas Boas (1724–1814), the text is so concise and focused that there is no mention of the fact that Cenáculo the collector and patron also served in the 1770s as president of Pombaline commissions on censorship and higher-education reform. Similarly, such scientists as the Italian Domenico Vandelli (1735–1816) are also discussed in terms of their contributions to Portuguese science under Pombal’s Enlightenment agenda, but there is no mention made of Vandelli’s technical and aesthetic contributions as a manufacturer of northern Portuguese faience, stoneware, and creamware.

Overall, the book is very valuable and significant, not only for the major contribution it makes to the study of eighteenth-century art in Europe generally, but also for its contribution to the study of Portuguese art patronage during its greatest period of international accomplishment.