The Belvedere Courtyard: The Sculpture Garden of Pope Julius II

Inside The Vatican, part 1

“Landscape With the Vatican Belvedere,” circa 1740, by Jan Frans van Bloemen. Oil on canvas; 45 inches by 64 inches. Musée Magnin, Burgundy, France. Public Domain

When, in 1503, Giuliano della Rovere (Pope Julius II) was elected pope by unanimous vote in the shortest conclave in history, he faced a maelstrom of decisions. How, for instance, to erase the memory of his loathed predecessor Alexander VI or to keep the king of France from encroaching on papal lands? How to organize the missionary efforts to the newly discovered Americas or repair the crumbling basilica dedicated to St. Peter? What name to take as the successor of St. Peter? Of all Pope Julius II’s resolutions, however, none would have greater or more lasting effect than where to place his art collection.

An Avid Art Collector

“Portrait of Pope Julius II,” 1511, by Raphael. Oil on poplar; 42 3/4 inches by 31 7/8 inches. The National Gallery, London. Public Domain

Although Julius was born in the Republic of Genoa, he had spent 32 years of his life in Rome. Nominated a cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church at age 28 by his uncle Pope Sixtus IV, he spent his first years within the inner circle of one of the most prolific builders in Rome’s history. Julius was present as his uncle constructed roads, commissioned the first bridge to cross the Tiber River since antiquity, built the Sistine Chapel, and opened modernity’s first museum on the Capitoline Hill. Among his many tasks, Julius supervised the myriad building sites, which inevitably unearthed ancient sculptures, long buried after the fall of Rome a millennium earlier.

Julius avidly purchased the works, displaying them in his fabulous palace close to what had once been the mighty Roman Forum whose glorious columns and friezes were submerged in the field known to Romans as the “cow pasture.”

Thus, Pope Julius’s collection rivaled that of the Medicis in Florence, and his eager relatives undoubtedly hoped that they might be chosen as the owners of a valuable and venerable array of art. Julius, however, was diffident toward his family, which resulted in a decision that would significantly shape the history of Western art. He donated his collection to the Holy See, establishing the Vatican Museums. Little did he know that his gift would lay the foundation for a museum that today draws over five million visitors a year.

The Vatican’s Belvedere Court

A print of the Belvedere Garden in the Vatican, with the foundation of St Peter's Basilica to the left, 1574, by Mario Cartaro. British Museum/CC BY-SA 4.0

Starting with the “Apollo Belvedere,” an elegant classical statue found in the outskirts of Rome, Julius’s sculptures made their way to the Vatican’s Villa Belvedere. Built under Pope Innocent VIII in 1484 as a retreat from the chaotic court life, this charming structure, perched atop a hill, enjoyed sweeping views of the Eternal City as well as cool breezes on hot summer days.

Pope Alexander VI had transformed it into a gilded prison for high-ranking political enemies, but Julius gave the building a new purpose by placing his treasures in the open internal courtyard redesigned by his favorite architect, Donato Bramante. Pope Julius’s magnificent sculptures were surrounded by orange trees and serenaded by the sound of water trickling from four fountains.

The site evoked the garden of the Hesperides, a mythological playground of the gods; the bright oranges amid the viridescent leaves recalled the golden apples reputed to adorn that secluded space. Pope Julius put his works on display, but not for everyone. The average pilgrim making his or her way to Rome, often on foot, to pray over the dirt of St. Peter’s tomb or touch the aged marble of the sarcophagus of St. Paul, both killed by the idolaters of the Roman Empire, would have been startled to see those same idols lovingly preserved in the pope’s inner sanctum.

Julius opted for a “soft opening” for his collection, inviting humanists, artists, poets, philosophers—in short, those who would be inspired instead of scandalized by the sculptures. In 1510, Francesco Albertini authored a guidebook for the more urbane traveler, featuring the statues of the Belvedere. Albertini described a plaque above the entrance bearing the inscription “Procul Este Prophani,” which is a line from Virgil’s “Aeneid” translated as “Stay away, you uninitiated,” emphasizing the exclusive nature of this nascent museum.

Garden of the Gods

A photograph of the "Apollo Belvedere" in Rome, by Jenny Bergensten, Hallwyl Museum, Sweden. Public Domain

The statue of Apollo—the god of music, light, and poetry—reigned over the garden. A second-century copy of a 320–330 B.C. bronze original by the sculptor Leochares, the Apollo was considered the epitome of human beauty in art. Standing over 7 feet, the work displayed the perfection in proportion, articulation, and attitude achieved by Greek sculptors. His graceful pose and aloof expression would inspire numerous other artists from Raphael to Canova, whose statue of Perseus, a few feet away in the courtyard, was clearly modeled after him.

Other deities disported themselves around the garden. “Venus Felix,” a Roman work from the second century, posed so as to recall Praxiteles’s celebrated 320 B.C. “Aphrodite of Cnidus,” known to be the most famous sculpture of the ancient world. Her visage, however, had been substituted with that of a Roman noblewoman while her son stood in as the adoring cupid beside her. As Julius continued his uncle’s ambitious programs for urban infrastructure, the collection swelled with more sculptures unearthed in areas around the Pantheon and Campo de' Fiori.

The "Venus Felix" statue at the Vatican. (Darafsh/CC BY-SA 3.0)

Hercules wrestled Antaeus and Cleopatra sank into death’s slumber under the empty gaze of large, stone theater masks discovered at Hadrian’s Villa in Tivoli. But the celestial seal of approval of the Julius project came on Jan. 14, 1506, when the most clamorous rediscovery of the century was brought to light.

Pope Julius had heard of an “unusual find” near the Colosseum on the land of a certain Felice de Fredis, and sent Giuliano da Sangallo, a trusted Florentine artist, to investigate. Sangallo brought along his son and his houseguest, Michelangelo Buonarroti, who was in Rome to work on a colossal tomb for the pope. The trio went to the vineyard, saw the partially excavated sculpture, and the two men exclaimed, “That is the Laocoön, which Pliny mentions.”

"The Discovery of the Laocoön," 1834–1835, by Pierre-Nolasque Bergeret. Oil on canvas. Private Collection. Public Domain

Laocoön was known from Virgil’s “Aeneid” as the Trojan priest of the Trojan War who coined the phrase “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.” Killed by order of the Greek gods by two sea serpents that crushed both the priest and his sons, Laocoön’s demise was the first domino in a sequence of events that would bring about the rise of Rome.

One of the most identifiable images of Roman art, the statue was catapulted to further fame when it was described by the first-century author Pliny the Elder. The Roman statesman declared that it was a Greek original by Agesander, Athenodoros, and Polydorus of Rhodes, and that he had seen it in Rome in the home of Emperor Titus, and that it “surpassed everything done in painting or sculpture up to this point"—essentially three Michelin stars!

Sculptural group of the "Laocoön" in the Vatican Museum. Wknight94/CC BY-SA 3.0

The line of buyers was long, including the Medici family and the king of France, but Julius offered de Fredis a lifetime revenue and the sculpture was in the Belvedere by March of the same year. The purchase of Laocoön crowned Julius’s dream of creating a Roman Mount Parnassus, the mythical mountain where Apollo and the nine Muses dispersed artistic inspiration. This investment would bear the greatest fruit of his pontificate.

A Terrace for Artistic Excellence

“Taddeo in the Belvedere Court at the Vatican,” circa 1595, by Federico Zuccaro. Pen and brown ink, and brush with brown wash over black chalk and touches of red chalk; 6 7/8 inches by 16 3/4 inches. Getty Museum, Los Angeles. Public Domain

Raphael and Michelangelo frequented the garden assiduously, Raphael employing the classical elegance for his painting in Julius’s apartments, while Michelangelo would learn how to manipulate the dynamic torsion of Laocoön to fresco his extraordinary ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. Leonardo da Vinci would reside in the Belvedere for three years, Gian Lorenzo Bernini would spend days sketching its works, and Johann Winckelmann would plant the seedlings of the discipline of art history while curating the collection.

The “conversion” of these pagan idols into Christian icons still demonstrates the power of beauty to transcend division, as evidenced by the tens of thousands who walk through Julius’s courtyard daily.

During the festivities marking the 500th anniversary of the Vatican Museums in 2006, Pope Benedict XVI wrote: “The distant origins of this institution date back to a work we might well describe as ‘profane’ —the magnificent sculptural group of the Laocoön—but which, in fact, acquires its fullest and most authentic light in the Vatican context. … It is the light of a beauty that shines out from within the work of art and leads the mind to open itself to the sublime, where the Creator encounters the creature made in his image and likeness.”

Julius’s decision to found the museum had far greater impact on human history than his political, economic, or bellicose policies. And despite dramatic events that would impact the collection over the centuries, it remains one of the most prestigious calling cards of the Catholic Church.

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