Bulletin of the Comediantes

"A SMALL BOY WITH GHOSTLY PALE SKIN, wispy blond hair, and large near-set eyes stares from the painted canvas. The white pallor of his hands and face and the flush of his cheeks are reflected by the same peach-and-white colors in his long lacy gown. His look is tranquil, perhaps even timid or sickly, especially for a future ruler …" (17). So begins Mary Quinn's monograph, with a vivid and poetic description of Diego de Velázquez's 1659 portrait of young prince Felipe Próspero (fig. 1, 18), son of Philip IV and Mariana of Austria and long-awaited heir to the Spanish Crown. His birth on 28 November 1657 sparked a cascade of festivities celebrated across the Spanish Empire. (The euphoria would be short lived, as he died at age three.) These celebrations, Quinn argues, "offered a way for cities near and far to express happiness and hope, but also advice, warnings, and even criticism of the Spanish Crown" (19). Six such celebrations form the subject of Quinn's book, which explores how the senses interact dynamically in each festivity and the effects of this sensory interplay. Quinn illustrates that while the Crown used sight, sound, and smell to heighten the impact of royal spectacles, artists or critics mobilized the senses to engage with contemporary issues or to question and resist the Crown's authority.

The book is structured around an introduction and five chapters, followed by an epilogue, a works cited section, and an index. The first two chapters focus on musical dramas produced at the Madrid court. Chapter 1 examines the first of two court celebrations: Calderón de la Barca's El laurel de Apolo—a short, two-act mythological drama combining sung and spoken text and widely considered the first zarzuela—alongside Peter Paul Rubens's painting Apolo persiguiendo a Dafne, commissioned by Philip IV in 1636 (figs. 3 and 4, p. 45). Quinn suggests Rubens's focus on Apollo's desire over Daphne's transformation may have influenced Calderón's focus in his version of the myth, in which he privileges sound over sight, particularly through Apollo's spoken and sung voice. The zarzuela's loa, she suggests, sheds light on the political motivation behind Calderón's artistic choices. Quinn reads the character Zarzuela in the [End Page 163] loa as a symbol of rural Spain, suggesting her lines reflect anxieties about depopulation and neglect, turning the loa into a subtle commentary on the Empire's mismanagement. Quinn interprets Apollo's lust—his "predatory behaviour"— through a political lens, representing the greed of the Spanish Empire, with Apollo standing in for Philip IV. She further contends that the zarzuela as a genre "may have emerged as a direct challenge to the imperial project itself" (57). While Quinn's reading is intriguing, it raises questions about the impact of Apollo's likely female-performed voice on audience perception (women traditionally performed all sung mythological roles) and how this might affect her interpretation of this zarzuela. The discussion also omits analysis of the performance space—El laurel de Apolo premiered at the Palace of the Zarzuela, a royal hunting lodge without a formal theater. This constrained setting may have shaped both the zarzuela genre and Calderón's emphasis on sound, offering a more intimate theatrical experience in contrast to grand productions at venues like the Palacio del Buen Retiro. The palace's Italianate theater, the Coliseo, was designed for large-scale musical dramas featuring elaborate stage machinery and scenery intended to impress audiences with spectacular visual effects, such as Antonio de Solís's three-act Triunfos de Amor y Fortuna, the focus of the next chapter.

Chapter 2 offers Quinn's most compelling analysis of allegory and sensory interplay, enriching our understanding of both Solís's work and Diego de Velázquez's Las Hilanderas, painted between 1655 and 1660 (fig. 8, p. 95). Quinn categorizes Solis's play as a "pastoral spectacle." The "blockbuster" (64) music drama weaves together various myths and storylines, unified by central themes of rivalry and competition that extend from the loa through the main plot. The loa mentions classical authors (Ovid, Lucius, and Apuleius) who wrote about the same myths dramatized by Solís. Quinn compellingly argues that Solís introduced an additional layer of competition between himself and the classical tradition, mirroring themes of rivalry between gods and mortals as well as between classical sources and contemporary innovation, which are also central to Velázquez's Las Hilanderas. Quinn argues that the success of Triunfos de Amor y Fortuna stems from Solís's ability to sustain a dynamic tension between sight and sound, heightening the drama's effect as a theatrical performance while underscoring the theme of artistic legacy. Solís's musical drama, in common with Velázquez's Las hilanderas, focused its commentary on artistic questions, in contrast to Calderón's stronger emphasis on political commentary in his zarzuelas. According to Quinn, both men explore the power of art, the role of the artist, and art's ability to reflect life. A brief discussion of the performance venue and its capacity for spectacle would have further contextualized Solís's success and explained why his work ultimately "eclipsed" Calderón's zarzuela (61).

Chapters 3, 4, and 5 examine the celebrations held outside the Iberian Peninsula to mark the prince's birth. Quinn analyzes various historical documents and cultural artifacts related to these festivities through a sensorial lens, offering insights into diverse perspectives on Spanish rule. Chapters 3 and 4 focus on operas performed in two Italian cities: Naples, a viceregal capital under Spanish control, and Florence, a neutral court that had historically supported the Spanish Monarchy in its long-standing struggle for power with the French. [End Page 164] Quinn offers a persuasive analysis of the operas, showing how they not only celebrated the royal birth but also subtly asserted civic autonomy. Chapter 3 centers on the Neapolitan opera Il Trionfo della Pace by Giuseppe Castaldo. Quinn situates this opera within the context of Naples's history, marked by the initial success of the Revolt of 1647 led by Tommaso Aniello ("Masaniello"), a devastating plague, and Spain's efforts to restore control through public festivities. Drawing on the myth of Parthenope, the siren whose body washed ashore where Naples was founded, Quinn shows how Castaldo's opera leveraged music and performance to subtly counter Spain's celebration, highlighting Naples's unique civic identity. Through an analysis of aural elements, Quinn demonstrates how the opera served both to praise the prince and to express civic resistance. Parthenope's silence in the opera, in particular, powerfully conveys Neapolitan ambivalence toward imperial authority.

Chapter 4 examines Giovanni Andrea Moniglia and Francesco Cavalli's opera Ipermestra, sponsored by Cardinal Giovan Carlo de' Medici, brother of Ferdinand II de' Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany. A patron of the arts and member of the Accademici degli Immobile, the cardinal likely used the opera to show support for Spain while showcasing the renovated Pergola Theater. However, as Quinn argues, the cardinal's disillusionment with Spain and preference for France are evident. Based on a Greek legend, Ipermestra tells the story of a daughter who defies her father's command to kill her husband, leading to her father's downfall and her kingdom's ruin. Quinn argues that while the libretto centers on love, lineage, and imperial power, the music highlights Ipermestra's emotional turmoil—reflecting Florence's own divided loyalties between Spain and France. Quinn also draws parallels between King Danaus in the opera and Philip IV, both unable to secure male heirs, noting the opera's mockery of both figures (in the case of Philip IV, for failing to produce an heir sooner).

The final chapter examines colonial Latin America and the Pacific through official reports of the celebrations held in Manila and Lima, written respectively by Alfonso del Valle, Royal Chaplain of the Manila cathedral, and Diego de Ojeda Gallinato, a high-ranking official of the viceregal capital of Peru. Quinn argues that these cities used the festivities for Prince Prospero to assert and display their own civic identities. For Manila, Quinn demonstrates that the published account engaged the senses to convey the celebration yet also used sensory detail deceptively, for example, in chapter titles that reference absent maps and in ambiguous messages embedded in the text. Noting the absence of a description of King Philip IV's portrait—but the presence of a detailed account of the baldachin holding it—Quinn interprets this as a metaphor for colonial Manila, which supports the king of Spain while also "stand[ing] magnificently on its own" (171). Turning to Lima, Quinn focuses on the report's introductory sonnet and ballad, arguing that in both compositions "the author's use of historical and classical references underscores not Lima's dependence on the Crown but rather the Crown's dependance on the city of Lima …". (174). Quinn further demonstrates how Ojeda Gallinato's account weaves together allusions to the ancient world with vivid sensory detail to construct a fantastical scene that elevates Lima's significance.

Quinn's book is beautifully produced, with high-quality paper, reproductions of eight paintings, one photograph, and digitized excerpts from original [End Page 165] sixteenth- and seventeenth-century texts. A few minor editorial issues exist. Some works referenced in the chapters don't appear in each of the corresponding lists of works cited, and at times, a scholar's last name is mentioned without the full title of their study. The book also contains inconsistencies in terminology. For example, in Chapter 2, Solís's Triunfos de Amor y Fortuna is referred to as a "pastoral spectacle" (62) but is also described as a "zarzuela" or "musical theatrical spectacle" elsewhere (32, 94, 197). This inconsistency is understandable, given the range of terms used to categorize musico-theatrical genres of the period. While the author briefly addresses this in footnote 6 (p. 62), a more direct clarification in the introduction to Chapter 2, or ideally in the general introduction, would help improve both clarity and consistency.

Particularly impressive is the book's originality. As Quinn notes, her study is "the first to show how different cities used Próspero's birth in attempts to further their own (sometimes contradictory) goals" (32). She advances analyses of the performances and poetic and descriptive texts created for the occasion, demonstrating how such art expressed a range of perspectives on the Crown, moving beyond mere flattering celebrations. The book's interdisciplinary approach makes it an asset for scholars and students of theater, literature, music, and history, among others. Her methodology reveals the richness and complexity of cultural responses to Próspero's birth. The book captivates not just because of the depth of its content, but because of the way the author's writing brings these historical celebrations, documents, and artistic works to life. Through her vivid and poetic descriptions of the sources she analyzes, Quinn immerses the reader in the sensory world of the past. Her ability to weave together history, art, and emotion in such a compelling manner elevates the study beyond traditional academic work, turning it into a truly immersive experience. This book is a must-read for anyone interested in the intersection of art, history, politics, and culture, offering both intellectual insight and a rich sensory journey. [End Page 166]