The title that the editors have chosen for this fascinating collection of essays is rather misleading. A more correct title would have been The visual in Counter-Reformation Italy. With two (German) exceptions the contributors confine themselves exclusively to the Italian peninsula. Of the five senses vision remains, then as now, queen. Lip service is paid to the ears; other forms of perception are ignored. Nevertheless, this volume constitutes a considerable achievement. The historiography of the Catholic senses remains committed to the outmoded equation of the Counter-Reformation with social discipline alone.Footnote ¹ Marcia Hall, one of the editors, makes a compelling case for negotiation as a useful ‘counter-category’. John O'Malley, the world's leading historian of the Council of Trent, traces the origins of its decree on images to French concerns for iconoclasm. In keeping with his argument elsewhere O'Malley shows how little Trent actually decided.Footnote ² Indeed, what the volume makes abundantly clear is how conflicted Catholic attitudes towards art remained post-Trent. Catholic views of the human body, and in particular the need for its mortification, stand in contrast with the varying attitudes towards its representation. The Neo-Platonic equation of physical beauty and divine truth long endured and caused considerable unease.

Equally troubling were the blurred boundaries between sacred and profane art. A concern for decorum (for the importance of this concept see Robert Gaston's contribution), in particular on the subject of nudity, dominated contemporary theoretical literature. Peter Lukehart's chapter on Michelangelo's Last judgement shows how this important work was retouched soon after the closing of the Council of Trent. Another theme recurring in many of the chapters is concern for the blurred line between pagan and religious art. Artists, as Maria Loh shows, could use the same figure to represent both Venus and Mary Magdalen, Cupid and an angel; and the former could be transformed into the latter, if required. (It is curious, given the prominence of the Last judgement, that the controversy surrounding the pagan inclusion of Charon's boat nowhere receives a mention.) Still, Bette Talvacchia and Opher Mansour among others also make clear that the threat of censorship should not be seen in negative terms alone. It also spurred on a certain artistic creativity and could, as in the case of Clement viii's inspection of the churches of Rome, also be ignored.

Especially stimulating in this volume is the attention that the contributors pay to the (at times open-ended) discussions of contemporary theorists (see Stuart Lingo's chapter), the viewpoint of artists, and the ‘sensuous’ responses from the audience. Particularly amusing is the painter Giulio Romano's response to criticism for painting God the Father: ‘it is no news to Your Lordships that paintings are the scripture of the unlettered and uneducated, and it is impossible to paint the invisible’ (p. 51). Costanza Barbieri's fascinating chapter on St Philip Neri's responses to art works (he sometimes went into ecstasy contemplating them) shows the important role that religious art was meant to serve; not only as a form of religious instruction but also as a spur to piety and contemplation. Conversely, immodest art stirred up the wrong emotions altogether.

To be sure, not every chapter in this volume seems equally pertinent or convincing. Richard Schofield's chapter on Carlo Borromeo's attempt to separate men and women in church seems hardly to touch on the themes of the volume. Amy Powell's chapter on the changing rituals commemorating Christ's temporary death on Good Friday covers much new ground but her explanation for this change seems based on modern critical theory alone. Yet, the volume as a whole makes an important contribution to our understanding of the role of art in the Counter-Reformation project. It will doubtless become essential reading for scholars working on the sensory experience in the early modern period as well.