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About Romanesque

Where does the term ‘Romanesque’ come from, and what are its limitations?

The term ‘Romanesque’ often raises questions. Does it apply to Roman or medieval art? Is it about architecture, sculpture, or both? Or manuscripts too?

Even once we have established that it concerns the medieval eleventh and twelfth centuries, more questions may arise: why is it called Romanesque? What aspects of the art are similar to Roman art, and what is different? As a term widely used in art history - and indeed the very focus of the Corpus of Romanesque Sculpture in Britain and Ireland - its origins, usefulness, and limitations all warrant attention.

Who coined the term?

The word ‘Romanesque’ (or romane in French) was first used by antiquarians in the early nineteenth century in both France and England. Inspired by the scientific fashion for classification, antiquarians coined the term to encompass artistic production - especially architecture - of the eleventh and twelfth centuries in Europe. But this was not a neutral term; it came with various, and often negative, connotations.

Bad Roman Art?

For scholars such as the French antiquarian Arcisse de Caumont, romane described what he called ‘debased Roman architecture’. For Caumont, architecture had been on a steady decline since the fall of the Roman Empire. Whilst he identified that something of the Classical style persisted in European building - think rounded arches, heavy walls, and columned interiors - he felt that the quality and sophistication had declined. Romanesque architecture, in this reading, was mimicry of the ancient world executed to an inferior standard.

This would now be seen as an inaccurate characterisation, but it reflects the varying attitudes towards the medieval period in the nineteenth century. An era perhaps known for the romanticisation of the Middle Ages - demonstrated by the Gothic Revival or artist groups such as the Pre-Raphaelites - also saw many scholars be condescending towards medieval art, measuring it against classical standards when these were not the sole influence, and complete mimicry was not the aim.

Romanesque Reconsidered

By the first half of the twentieth century, the definition of Romanesque had expanded and its relationship to Classical Rome re-evaluated. Scholars such as Robert de Lasteyrie and Henri Focillon began to push back on the idea that the Romanesque was a ‘lesser’ form of the Roman. Not only did scholars broaden the definition to apply to art forms beyond architecture - including sculpture and manuscript painting - but Focillon in particular revered Romanesque art and addressed it from his own Formalist perspective. For Focillon, Romanesque art was not a failed version of something older but possessed its own internal logic: a way of organising artistic elements unique to that particular style.

Throughout the twentieth century, Romanesque continued to become a subject worthy of study in its own right, with many scholars focussing the majority of their careers on it. One such figure, known for popularising Romanesque studies in Britain in particular, was George Zarnecki - also the founder of the Corpus of Romanesque Sculpture in Britain and Ireland. Following his influence, the status of Romanesque as far more than a debased copy of the Roman was firmly established.

So, what is Roman about Romanesque? And what is not?

Despite this elevated status, the extent to which the term is actually helpful remains open to debate. On one hand, it is clear that many medieval artisans in Europe had knowledge - both first and second hand - of Roman monuments. This is perhaps more evident on the continent, where Roman building had a longer history, but we can still see it in many examples from Britain and Ireland. Capitals at churches such as St Mary, Worksop, Nottinghamshire, are carved with crocket capitals reminiscent of the volutes on Roman Corinthian capitals (Fig.1) – and many churches — such as St Botolph in Swyncombe, Oxfordshire — have or had a round apse (a semicircular east end), reminiscent of a Roman basilica plan.

Figure 1: Capitals on the south nave doorway of St Mary, Worksop, Nottinghamshire, c. 1180.

Figure 2: Exterior view of St Botolph, Swyncombe, Oxfordshire, showing the round apse, eleventh century.

But whilst Romanesque art and architecture is clearly influenced, to an extent, by the Roman, the label still causes problems. By calling the art of the eleventh and twelfth centuries ‘Romanesque’, the term implies a singular, dominant influence. It does not do justice to the many other formative traditions at work, including (but certainly not limited to) the art of Byzantium, Carolingian, Merovingian, and Ottonian art, Scandinavian and Viking art - and, in the cases of Britain and Ireland in particular, the art of the Picts, Celts, and Anglo-Saxons.

Take the market cross from Glendalough, Wicklow, as an example. A granite cross, 1.68m high and dated to around 1130–50, it is carved with a now-weathered crucified Christ, surrounded on all sides with interlace pattern, zoomorphic creatures, and spiralling foliage. Scholars have traced a wide spread of influences in its design: the moulded terminals of the cross are reminiscent of metal crosses, especially those from late tenth-century Ottonian Germany (Fig. 3), while the panels of interlaced animals relate to the Irish-Urnes style - born from the fusion of late Viking art and Irish Celtic design (Fig. 4)

Figure 3: The Glendalough Market Cross, front on, showing the crucified Christ, c.1130-50 – note the moulded terminals of the arms of the cross.

Figure 4: S face of cross shaft with interlace design, c.1130-50.

Another feature typical of British and Irish Romanesque is the cushion capital, exemplified here in the sculpted versions at St Kyneburgha’s, Castor (Fig. 5). According to George Zarnecki, cushion capitals were first developed in eleventh-century Germany before becoming popular in Anglo-Saxon England, and later in northern France. It is a detail that captures the complexity of the Romanesque as a whole: a style shaped not by one tradition, but by many — and all the richer for it.

Figure 5: Carved cushion capitals at St Kyneburgha, Castor, c.1120.