This plush museum, filling a cardinal’s mansion in the park, offers one of Europe’s most sumptuous art experiences. You’ll enjoy a collection of world class Baroque sculpture, including Bernini’s David and his excited statue of Apollo chasing Daphne, as well as paintings by Caravaggio, Raphael, Titian, and Rubens. The museum’s mandatory reservation system keeps crowds to a manageable size.
Get the Audio guide – it is excellent.
The essence of the collection is the connection of the Renaissance with the classical world. As you enter, notice the second-century Roman reliefs with Michelangelo-designed panels above either end of the portico. The villa was built in the early 17th century by the great art collector Cardinal Scipione Borghese, who wanted to prove that the glories of ancient Rome were matched by the Renaissance.
In the main entry hall, high up on a wall, is a thrilling first-century Greek sculpture of a horse falling. The Renaissance-era rider was added by Pietro Bernini, father of the famous Gian Lorenzo Bernini.
Each room seems to features a Baroque masterpiece. In Room I is Pauline Borghese as Venus, for which Napoleon’s sister went the full monty for the sculptor Canova, scandalizing Europe. (“How could you have done such a thing?!” she was asked. She replied, “The room wasn’t cold.”) With the famous nose of her conqueror brother, she strikes the pose of Venus as conqueror of men’s hearts. Her relaxed afterglow and slight smirk say she’s already had her man. The light dent she puts in the mattress makes this goddess human.
Notice the contrasting textures that Canova (1757- 1822) gets out of the pure white marble: the rumpled sheet versus her smooth skin, the satiny-smooth pillows and mattress versus the creases in them, her porcelain skin versus the hint of a love handle. Canova polished and waxed the marble until it looked as soft and pliable as cloth.
The mythological pose, the Roman couch, the ancient hairdo, and the calm harmony make Pauline the epitome of the Neoclassical style.
In Room II, Gian Lorenzo Bernini’s David twists around to put a big rock in his sling. He purses his lips, knits his brow, and winds his body like a spring as his eyes lock onto the target: Goliath, who’s somewhere behind us, putting us right in the line of fire. Compared with Michelangelo’s David, this is unvarnished realism – an unbalanced pose, bulging veins, unflattering face, and armpit hair. Michelangelo’s David thinks, whereas Bernini’s acts. Bernini slays the pretty-boy Davids of the Renaissance and prepares to invent Baroque.
The best one of all is in Room III: Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne. It’s the perfect Baroque subject – capturing a thrilling, action-filled moment. In the mythological story, Apollo – made stupid by Cupid’s arrow of love – chases after Daphne, who has been turned off by the “arrow of disgust.” Just as he’s about to catch her, she calls to her father to save her. Magically, her fingers begin to sprout leaves, her toes become roots, her skin turns to bark, and she transforms into a tree.
Frustrated Apollo will end up with a handful of leaves. Walk slowly around the statue. It’s more air than stone.
But don’t stop here. In Room IV, admire Bernini’s The Rape of Proserpina, proof that the age of 24 the sculptor was the master of marble.
Over in Room VI, Bernini’s first major work for Cardinal Borghese – Aeneas, Anchises, and Ascanius – reveals the then-20-year-old sculptor’s astonishing aptitude for portraying human flesh, though the statue lacks the Baroque energy of his more mature work. And in Room VIII is a fabulous collection of paintings by Caravaggio, who brought Christian saints down to earth with gritty realism.
Upstairs, in the Pinacoteca (Painting Gallery), are busts and painting by Bernini, as well as paintings by Raphael, Titian, Correggio, and Domenichino.