Short Presentation on Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne Sculpture

This statue of Apollo and Daphne is a Baroque masterpiece hand-sculpted by

Gian Lorenzo Bernini between the years 1622-1625 that now resides here in the

Borghese Gallery inside the Villa Borghese. It is 243 cm, or just under 8 feet, tall, and

carved from what appears to be a single piece of Carrera marble, which is a light

gray/white marble with gray veining, sometimes with a subtle blue tint, and is a popular

material used in sculpture and building decor that comes from the modern-day region of

Tuscany. The work was commissioned by Cardinal Scipione Borghese, and the

collaboration between artist and patron created a work that symbolized the victory of

Chastity over Passion, a message which the Church believed in. Since this piece was

formed in the baroque style, it follows the pattern of dynamic movement and an active

usage of space, portrayed through a larger-than-life form, that is typically seen with

other baroque pieces, and especially other works by Bernini. The art of this period was

responding to the religious tensions of the time, notably between the Catholic Church

and the protestants in the wake of the Protestant Reformation, and the works of art

commissioned by the Church or other Catholic rulers were glorious, often public, pieces,

that were designed to increase their grandeur and political standing. The pieces of this

period were also characterized by religious themes, either through a direct application of

biblical material, or more indirectly through mythological or allegorical motifs, and this

statue is no different. It depicts the climax of the myth of Apollo and Daphne in stunning

emotional relief. The summary of my translation of the story, written down in Latin by

Ovid in his Metamorphoses, goes as follows:

 Apollo, arrogant after his recent slaying of the great Python, comes across Cupid

as he is drawing back his bow to shoot a pair of lovers, and he insults him, saying that

Cupid is too small and unworthy to hold a bow like the Great Apollo. Cupid gets very

angry, and tells Apollo, “although you arrow may pierce all things, Apollo, my bow will

pierce you,” and he draws forth two arrows, one made of lead to repel love, and one of

gold to create it, with which he shoots the unsuspecting nymph Daphne, and Apollo.

Daphne, already well-versed in rejecting the advances of unwanted suitors, flees into

the woods, wishing to live forever like the virgin goddess Artemis, and she begs her

father, the river god Peneus, to grant her the same gift of not being made to marry that

Zeus bestowed upon Artemis. Because he loves her, he agrees, but Apollo, having

seen her great beauty, is not to be deterred. He burns with desire, and pursues her in

her swift flight through the woods, beseeching her to slow down and let him catch up to

her, since he is her love, and not her enemy. He also proclaims his divine lineage and

great accomplishments to her, but at his words Daphne only flees faster. He pursues

her to the end of her strength, and when he is almost upon her she calls out to her

divine father, “Father, help me! Destroy my form, by which I was pleasing, by changing

it.” Scarcely had she spoken when numbness overtook her heavy limbs, her chest was

encircled with a thin bark, her hair grows into leafy boughs, her arms transform into

branches, her swift feet are slowed by sluggish roots, and her face becomes a treetop.

It is only then that Apollo reaches her, placing his hand upon the new bark, and, sensing

her soul still within, proceeds to place his affections upon it. Even as a tree, Daphne still

bends away from him, but Apollo vows that she, as a Laurel tree, will be his tree forever
if she cannot be his wife, and that she will adorn his hair, his lyre, and the heads of the

triumphant Latin leaders. And thus the origin of the laurel wreath was born.

From the translation of the original story, Apollo never actually reaches Daphne

while she is still human, but Bernini follows in the tradition of the many great artists

attempting to depict myth before him, and conflates multiple scenes that center around

the climax of the narrative, which both serve to showcase the height of drama and

emotion, as well as contain a great deal of elements that will allow for the identification

of the subjects by the viewers. As you can see from the statue, Apollo is placing his

hand upon the bark that has begun to encase her legs and torso at the same time as

when roots begin to shoot out from her delicate toes, branches with new leaves burst

forth from her fingertips, and her hair begins to turn into leaves, and the combination of

these events with the intense emotion depicted on the faces, and the dynamic usage of

diagonals and flowing elements of hair and fabric, make for a very powerful

composition. 

A few really amazing things that stand out to me, and highlight Bernini’s mastery

as a sculptor, are the fact that he is able to make the leaves sprouting from her

fingertips so thin that the light can be seen through them at certain angles, just like real

leaves, that he was able to create a composition that is very ambitious, with the multiple

unsupported limbs and locks of hair, that not only works but has stayed intact

throughout the nearly 400 years since its creation, and his ability to incorporate the

supporting elements of the statue, stretching up from the base, which is necessary for

marble but not for bronze, into the composition itself so that there are no superfluous

elements or areas that distract from the dynamism of his work.

 Ann Thomas Wilkins, in her article Bernini and Ovid: Expanding the Concept of

Metamorphosis, talks about Bernini’s usage of Ovidian writings, not only the stories

themselves but the concept of metamorphosis, or change, throughout many of his

works. She argues that it was extremely likely that Bernini was exposed to Ovid’s works

in his youth, and that he became fascinated with the idea of creating sculpture that

incorporated the idea of metamorphosis on multiple levels. In works like Apollo and

Daphne, not only is the quality of the rendering of the human figures an example of the

Greek idea of mimesis, the concept where things, particularly art, are made in such a

way that they look as though they are alive, thus changing cold stone into living flesh,

but also encompasses the scenes that depict change from the original myth. Wilkins

also talks about how the Apollo and Daphne statue was originally situated in an

entryway, so that a viewer came upon it from behind Apollo, when Daphne was nearly

invisible, and that the metamorphosis of the myth unfolded as the viewer came around

the side and to the front of the statue, adding another layer to the composition. She also

discusses how, In Bernini’s sculpture Neptune and Triton, an interpretation of the myth

where Neptune rescues Aeneas’ fleet from the waves on their flight from Troy is

represented. Although it contains just two figures and doesn’t encapsulate much of the

original story, instead focusing just on Neptune and Triton, the idea of metamorphosis is

still realized in the way that the two entwined figures resemble the head and tail of a

dolphin from the front view, which I found to be very interesting. 

Bernini’s statue of Hades and Persephone, also located in the Borghese Gallery,

is stylistically very similar to the Apollo and Daphne. The way Bernini handles the

texture of the skin as Hades grasps Persephone’s thigh creates the same lifelike
illusion, and the emotions on the faces of the subjects project very similar levels of

intensity and power.