Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s Louvre Highlights

The ancient Greeks imagined Nike, the goddess of Victory, as a winged female figure who flew down to Earth to bring news of victory. This statue of the goddess was found on the island of Samothrace, in the northern Aegean Sea. Intended as an offering to the gods, it originally stood in a sanctuary where people went to pray for protection from the dangers of the sea. The sculpture conveys an extraordinary sense of movement: it looks as though the goddess has just landed on the prow of the ship where she stands proudly, her cloak billowing in the wind and her clothes clinging to her body in the ‘wet drapery’ effect that Greek sculptors were so fond of.

The painter Andrea Solario was a contemporary of the great Renaissance genius Leonardo da Vinci, who influenced the style of his work. This religious image of the Virgin and Child is set against a pastoral background that does not resemble a biblical landscape or the countryside in Solario’s native region of Veneto; this gives the painting a sense of timelessness and helps focus attention on the true, universally recognisable subject of the scene: motherhood. The loving gaze between mother and child, the way the baby plays with his foot and the velvety softness of the famous green cushion (which gave the painting its name) all express the pure joy of motherly love.

A Pietà is a depiction of the Virgin Mary holding the dead body of Christ, usually on her lap. The painter Rosso Fiorentino chose to show the scene differently. Mary’s arms are stretched out wide as she falls back in grief, creating an impression of movement that fills the whole width of the scene. The unusual sense of agitation is heightened by the secondary figures with their brightly coloured drapery, and by the body of Christ which seems unnaturally large. This kind of exaggeration is characteristic of the Mannerist style, represented by Rosso among others. King François I admired the Italian Mannerists but the Catholic authorities banned their works, disapproving of their extreme expressiveness.

Lisa Gherardini, the wife of Francesco del Giocondo, posed for what would become the most famous portrait in the world, wearing a smile that echoes her husband’s name – the Italian word giocondo means ‘happy’. But why is the Mona Lisa considered the ultimate masterpiece? For Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, it was because she wears a ‘mother’s smile’ that reminds us of our infancy. But perhaps it is due to Leonardo’s wonderful ‘sfumato’ technique – multiple thin layers of transparent glaze, creating a misty effect that makes the painting shimmer with life? Or simply because it is a work by the undisputed genius of the Italian Renaissance? Then again, it could be because the Mona Lisa was stolen, then recovered, and made front-page news? Or because the portrait has been copied or referenced so often, by so many artists? The real reason is probably a combination of all the above!

According to the New Testament, Jesus performed his first miracle in a city called Cana in Galilee, where Mary and Jesus were invited to a wedding banquet and he turned the water into wine. The painter Veronese had been asked to paint this biblical scene on the wall of a Venetian monastery refectory; he did so, but he interpreted the story with great artistic freedom, painting a huge crowd of 132 figures combining biblical characters, Venetian aristocrats in 16th-century outfits and turbaned Orientals. He gave the painting a theatrical quality with a splendid architectural setting and dazzling colours made from costly pigments imported from the East by Venetian merchants.

In 1818, the artist Théodore Géricault decided to paint a contemporary subject for the next annual art Salon in Paris to distinguish himself from traditional history painters. He opted for an event that had caused a scandal two years earlier: the shipwreck of the Medusa, a French navy frigate sent by King Louis XVIII to reclaim Senegal from the British. The ship was commanded by an incompetent captain who ran her aground off the West African coast then left 150 people to drift on a makeshift raft, where they had to resort to cannibalism to stay alive. Only ten survived. Géricault took a scientific approach to his subject, interviewing survivors and sketching amputated limbs that he borrowed from a hospital. The Raft of the Medusa was seen as scandalous when it was officially presented at the Salon, but over the years it gained a reputation as one of the first great Romantic paintings.

The legendary lovers Francesca and Paolo are the ultimate symbols of passionate love. To form an alliance between two powerful families, the beautiful Francesca had been forced to marry a deformed and ugly man. However, she fell in love with his handsome younger brother Paolo, who loved her in return. The pair met a tragic end, murdered by Francesca’s jealous husband. This story, recounted by the medieval Italian poet Dante, inspired future generations of artists including the painter Ary Scheffer, who depicted the lovers condemned to suffer in Hell for all eternity. Two poets – Dante and his master, the great Latin poet Virgil – observe them from the shadows, reminding us that poets have the power to make a love story immortal.

Théodore Géricault was very young when he produced this painting, which might look conventional at first sight but is actually subtly original. Many artists of his day depicted horses in movement – a difficult exercise that allowed them to demonstrate their technical skills – and since the Middle Ages there had been plenty of battle scenes and portraits of people on horseback... But this composition seems entirely structured around the horse’s movement, while the officer’s absent-minded, distant gaze is far from heroic. Although the smoke-filled sky and low, threatening horizon line suggest a war scene, Géricault’s work is a far cry from contemporary paintings of famous battles designed to glorify the Empire. By taking an innovative personal approach, the young artist revolutionised both history painting and portraits on horseback.

For his coronation as Emperor of France in May 1804, Napoleon wanted to be consecrated by the pope himself – as Charlemagne had been a thousand years before him – at a ceremony held in Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris. But Napoleon also wanted to demonstrate his independence from the Church, so he crowned both himself and his wife, Joséphine. Nowadays, an event like that would be full of paparazzi…but in 1804, to record the ceremony for posterity, Napoleon commissioned a monumental work from the celebrated painter Jacques-Louis David. After attending the event, the artist used cardboard models and wax figures to reconstruct the scene for his painting. To highlight the splendour of the event, he contrasted complementary colours (especially red and green) and illuminated the stars of the event with a beam of light.

Juliette Récamier was 23 years old when she commissioned this portrait from Jacques-Louis David. Despite her young age, she was already an influential figure. She had married the new governor of the Bank of France and hosted a successful salon frequented by French and foreign writers and socialites. Above all, she was a trendsetter in terms of fashion and design, being one of the first to wear Grecian-style gowns and display Etruscan-style furniture in her home, boosting the taste for all things classical that became so popular during the Empire. You can see some of her furniture in Rooms 557–558 at the Louvre [ou simplement lien]. David’s portrait shows her as more than just a woman of fashion: the almost empty room focuses attention on her as an ideal of feminine elegance – like a photo shoot for a fashion magazine.

By 1784, David was already an experienced painter but this painting for King Louis XVI was his first royal commission – the perfect opportunity to make a name for himself! He therefore went all out to create a masterpiece, inventing a new style that put him at the forefront of the neoclassical movement. David had always admired the classical ideal of beauty but here, rather than following the contemporary fashion for romantic scenes inspired by Greek mythology, he chose to give his work a moral and patriotic dimension with a subject from Roman history: the Horatii brothers, Rome’s chosen champions, who swore an oath to defeat their enemies or die for their country. In fact, David invented this particular episode for the purposes of his painting. He added emotional impact by depicting the grieving women of the family, and his painting was a triumph at the annual Paris Salon.

Fifteen years after The Oath of the Horatii, David turned to another episode from Roman history, but the context in which he painted it was radically different. In 1791, following the French Revolution, he voted the death of Louis XVI (who had commissioned the Horatii painting), and the artist’s political sympathies subsequently led to his imprisonment. It was in prison that he had the idea for this painting based on the story of the Sabine women: when Rome was founded, the shortage of women prompted the Romans to abduct the daughters of their neighbours, the Sabines, sparking a battle between the two cities. The Sabine women intervened at this point, convincing the enemies to unite as one nation. The message of the painting was clear: the artist was advocating the reconciliation of the French people after the upheaval of the Revolution of 1789. David himself regarded this painting as his masterpiece for its ‘pure Greekness’; he felt it came close to the ideal of beauty upheld by the ancient Greeks.

Louis XIV, the ‘Sun King’, identified himself with Apollo, the god of the arts and the sun. In 1663, to reflect his dazzling image, the king entrusted the decoration of the Galerie d’Apollon to his court painter, Charles Le Brun. The latter oversaw an army of artists and instructed them to elaborate on the theme of the sun. The top of the vaulted ceiling is painted with allegories of the hours from dawn to dusk, with the sun at its zenith in the centre. Lower down, the months are modelled in stucco alongside paintings of the four seasons. Twelve winged figures representing the hours are depicted flying in the sky and the days of the week are symbolised by animals; Thursday, for example, the day of Jupiter, is represented by one of the god’s attributes, the eagle. The overall decorative scheme was both artistically and politically symbolic: like Apollo, the Sun King was the master of the universe and a great patron of artists.

A perfectly proportioned female figure standing two metres tall, with a face exactly three times the length of her nose and the famous ‘Greek profile’…too good to be true? Well, yes! Because this is the goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite for the Greeks and Venus for the Romans, the mother of Eros (‘Cupid’ in Latin)... and above all, because she meets the aesthetic criteria of Greek art with her geometric proportions and divine, idealised beauty. The Venus de Milo found instant fame when she arrived at the Louvre in 1821, partly because of her grace and charm – but also because she is an original Greek sculpture, and very few have survived; most of the classical statues around her are Roman copies of long-lost Greek sculptures.

Most ancient Greek sculptures are known to us from Roman copies. The Romans were great admirers of Greek art and they copied the original works, which were often melted down for the metal if they were made of bronze. This is perhaps what happened to the statue by the 4th-century Greek sculptor Lysippos from which this work was copied. This athletic figure of Hermes has the perfect proportions established by the Greek sculptors of the previous century, but Lysippos added a personal and realistic touch: Hermes, the messenger of the gods, is shown fastening his sandal like an ordinary human being. This could be why the Romans associated this figure with the mortal Cincinnatus, a statesman who fell from power and had no choice but to become a farmer, before he was called to save Rome from destruction.

For the ancient Egyptians, most artworks served a primarily symbolic purpose. So this Great Sphinx was not just meant to look good; it was, above all, a guardian. The lion’s body symbolises the sky-god Horus and the human head represents the pharaoh, so the sphinx demonstrates the link between the pharaoh and the gods – especially the sun god Ra, the creator of the universe (. With its outstretched claws and tense body, this sphinx looks ready to pounce, demonstrating its protective role. Sphinxes were placed at the entrance to sacred places to keep evil forces away. 

In 1800, Marie-Guillemine Benoist, a former pupil of Jacques-Louis David, presented a painting at the Paris Salon. The young artist proved herself worthy of her teacher with this work, which respected the conventions of portraiture and was painted in the neoclassical style. The sitter, shown in three-quarter view, is looking towards us, the brushwork is smooth, the contrasts are clear and the background plain, as in portraits by David. But Marie-Guillemine Benoist did more than demonstrate her painting skills: the model she chose was an unknown black woman, a former slave whom she depicted according to the conventions of society portraiture. At a time when the abolition of slavery was a major issue, the young artist was also taking a stand.